#i know my ending tone does not match my beginning one at all

[stgroversfire]

LOOOONG fnaf sb ruin post here. lots of criticism and thoughts no one cares about, and of course spoilers.

take it all with a grain of salt, because while i know a lot about the story, i'm a 23 year old that got into the franchise 8 years ago and i havent actively kept up with the lore since fnaf 6.

and because in researching more for this post i found out there's key lore points in the fucking books and i'm not reading a glorified manual to understand the story of a game i paid 40 bucks for.

i want to be kinder to fnaf sb ruin, but i still feel disappointed.

from a gameplay standpoint, it was, of course, a VASTLY improved game. this is a tumblr post not a review, so i'll keep it short, but by god did the dlc actually have intention and vision that the original lacked, with a lot less bugs (more than i find acceptable, but the bar was low here so i'm taking the W). the core gameplay mechanics actually felt like they belonged in the game and made the experience better, and this free dlc went a long way to making sb's $40 price tag closer to worth it.

the atmosphere was stunning to me- much creepier and like it actually belonged in a horror game. the free roam aspect being less painfully redundant and more linear was a great improvement for player experience. the AR mechanic was maybe a touch cluttered, but i still loved it and was glad to see creative ideas implemented without obvious scope creep.

story wise... well, i'm quite sure i must be missing something. after sb i had so many questions, and i think like one of them is answered. there's something to be said about fnaf sticking to its guns and keeping a lot of lore up to speculation, but i haven't fully grasped what the fuck is happening since pizzeria sim.

it's probably a bit soon after release to be shitting on the story but uh. i still don't know who tf gregory is or his relevancy to the plot. i don't know who cassie is or her relevancy to the plot. i liked her character but it felt like a skeleton of a story. every relationship felt too threadbare to justify character actions (although retrospectively there is something to be said about the actions of children being impulsive). and while it's not inherently bad, i personally don't love every piece of her backstory being some one off line that is never explored (i.e. paraphrasing "this faz wrench is like my dads!" and "maybe your friends will come next time").

i was fascinated by the mimic as an antagonist, and relieved to see anyone but springtrap, but having to google who he was and why he randomly changed forms in the scooper ending (??? did i miss something?) to understand the dlc kind of killed a lot of excitement for me. really great design though, and even if it was a bit obvious i enjoyed the whole mimicking gregory thing.

as for the endings: i'm a bit confused as to why gregory would frantically try to save cassie, only to attempt to kill her off. i'm also not sure why he knows about the mimic in the first place. i have my own theories, sure, but speculation doesn't mean much when the concrete scenes we got gave us nothing. i really wanted more information on gregory and frustratingly ended with more goddamned questions. the scooper ending was cool, even if it confused the shit outta me. fredbear ending was uh. actually very creepy to me and probably my favorite of the bunch. the dichotomy of the cheery music and graphics vs cassie's terrified breathing was creepy af and i wish that wasn't just the joke ending.

i'm losing steam here so i'll try to wrap up. all in all, i went into ruin mostly blind and was really hoping for any kind of wrap up on who gregory is (adding here that im now aware that's in the books, but i really really hate the idea of supplemental paid reading for a paid video game), and while i don't hate cassie, i was a little disappointed to see any expansion on the original story. the gameplay was such a different and improved experience i can't believe it came from the same studio.

and despite me absolutely ripping into this thing, i'm really excited to see more from steel wool and scott. help wanted 2 should be a much less disjointed experience, with some really cool tie ins to vanny (if i understand the lore at all)

EDIT: I FORGOT ABOUT THE VANNI SYSTEM. the bunny enemy was very fucking well designed, made complete sense with the story while also preventing the player from staying in AR too long, and fixed a lot of what made the original animatronic AIs feel extremely janky. that creepy bunny guy takes the game from like. a 5/10 to a 7/10.

if you made it this far i'm sorry you read all that and i hope your day is as wonderful as you are, much love.

[narizaki]

bad habits   suna rintaro x reader

―   tags   gender neutral reader,   fluff,   childhood friends to lovers

―   notes   wc is around 1.2k,   maybe ooc suna,   thank you for 100 followers, here's my gift to you <3

rintaro has many bad habits.

he’s well aware of them — so much so that he has a mental list of them. number 5 on the list is how he gets lazy during volleyball matches whenever he knows his team is in the lead. number 4 is how he never bothers to even attempt to mediate fights. though, he figures that one hardly counts as a bad habit, seeing as it’s the result of spending years around the miya twins. they would rather die than let anyone but kita or their mother get in between of their debacles. 

“tell me a secret, rin,” you hum into the phone.

you and rintaro have ingrained late-night phone calls into your routines after graduating high school and separating your own ways. with him working as a professional volleyball player, you hardly see each other anymore. he's always too busy with traveling and training, despite the fact you still live in the same city. although he knows you’d never tell him, he’s aware that you were upset when he began to have less and less time to talk to you. after all, he hadn’t spent the majority of his life with you to not know what makes you tick.

so, even though he’s stumbling over his own feet walking home, he’s still on the phone with you. he vaguely understands what you say before spouting out the first thing he thinks of — another bad habit of his.

number 3: he loses his filter when he’s tired. 

rintaro never had much of a filter to begin with, but his reserved nature essentially acted as one. he was certainly less blunt than people like kita and atsumu. as the years passed, though, it was made apparent to him that he became more curt with his words when in dire need of rest. he surmises that it’s something that happens to everybody, though, so he forgives himself for it.

“you know, i used to like you when we were kids,” he mumbles. “actually, it lasted until high school.”

you sputter on the other end, choking on your water. rintaro laughs at your incessant coughing.

“that was not funny! and, what? suna rintaro, are you drunk right now?” you yell into the receiver. the volume of your voice makes him wince, forcing him to tug his phone away from his ear. regardless, he laughs a little harder.

“full name? what happened to rin?” he almost whines, kicking a rock. you grumble on the other line. “and i’m not drunk.”

“rin,” you sigh, and he smiles at the nickname. “i know you like to fuck around with people, or whatever, but this isn’t something to joke about.” your tone is serious, almost scolding. rintaro only frowns. he’s not lying. he wouldn’t lie about something like this. he couldn’t, especially to you.

“i’m not joking, i swear. i did like you… or, still do?” he thinks aloud, questioning himself. rintaro is barely registering what he’s saying — mind fuzzy from the harsh day. his coach was particularly unforgiving today, leaving him sore and tired as he drags his feet back to his apartment. still, he continues. “yeah, still do, actually.”

“rin,” you say, exasperated, “you like me? as a friend, you mean?” 

even in his slightly delirious state, rintaro can tell you’re trying to save face — for you or for him, he’s unsure. what he does know is that you’d never thought he’d see you in a romantic light. it was his fault, really — you’d always been a hopeless romantic, but rintaro knew you’d considered him off-limits. aside from your long-term friendship, there was also his disinterested approach to dating. 

if only you knew how wrong you were.

he was never uninterested in dating — he just always had his eyes on you. that was where another bad habit of his shone through — number 2: he never tells anyone, anything. that, mixed with his hard-to-read demeanor, meant that nobody truly knew how he felt about you. of course, those around him could tell that you were close. everybody knew that you and rintaro had grown up together, so it was only a matter of time until people started assuming that the two of you had something more. while rintaro never gave those people the time of day, you’d always nervously deny their pries.

atsumu and osamu would always tease him (and sometimes, you) about it, but they quickly learned to give up once they saw his feigned indifference toward the subject and your immediate rejection to their statements. his default response was to brush them off — he’d rather die than give the twins out of all people anything to use against him, especially if it was about you. he’d never see the light of day again if miya atsumu was found teasing rintaro about something.

“rin? hello?” your voice echoes throughout his head, forcing rintaro into reality. 

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles. he’s considering taking his word back — telling you that yeah, he does mean it as a friend. but he decides that he’s already too deep in and fuck it, he’s going to tell you. 

“i do like you…more than a friend. i have for a while, and i know it’s my fault that you had no idea, but i guess i’m telling you now?” rintaro grimaces at the uncertainty in his own voice. he’d always been so sure of himself — or, at least put effort into appearing as such. you’ve always been the exception to that, though, and he supposes that’s a fact that’ll never change. 

a beat of silence passes until you reply. 

“yeah. it is your fault.” you breathe. 

suddenly, all the air is gone from rintaro’s lungs. it forces him to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, shoes skidding against the concrete. his grip on his phone tightens, and he’s considering mumbling out some half-assed excuse about how he is, in fact, drunk. he’ll pray that you believe him, so he can run back to his apartment and maybe actually get drunk before pretending that everything is okay.

thousands of thoughts run through his head. some of them are about how he’s going to play this off, while others are about where you stand with him now. is this what being a setter feels like? having to go through hundreds of different situations to decide what will bring the best outcome? how shitty. he vaguely feels sympathy for atsumu. 

that is, until your laugh fills the air around him. 

“but you’ve told me now, so i think you should turn around.” 

he spins on his heel, coming face-to-face with you. your appearance is disheveled, looking as if you just ran to him — which, you did, based on the harsh breaths you’re taking — and you only have a thin t-shirt and sweatpants on. your phone is still by your ear, grinning at him. it’s childish and hopeful, reminding rintaro of the smiles you would send his way when the two of you would play on the swings during recess. he adored them just as much then as he does now.

rintaro has many bad habits. he’s aware of them, and despite what others may say, he’s come to terms with them.

but as he rushes forward and cups your face into his hands, he knows what he’d say if someone were to ask him what his worst habit was.

number 1: he can never say no to you.

[bookshelf-dust]

soul made of honeybees

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @biillys

word count: 6,418

warnings: brief swearing, mentions of smoking, reader deals with body insecurities/dysmorphia, uses exercise as a punishment, all of the struggles that come with trying to accept oneself

synopsis: on a journey of becoming more active and trying to be happier in yourself, you find billy, who helps you develop a healthier relationship with exercising and shows you that your body should be celebrated for all it does for you.

a/n: well, what do we have here? my creative juices have begun to flow again, and this is the first fic to be born of that particular affair. in my head i’ve set this in the late 80s, maybe early 90s, where i imagine billy still works at the pool during the summers when he’s home from college. this is a situation i’ve found myself in over the past year, and i wanted a chance to explore it in this way and sort through some of my own experiences. i hope you will enjoy it. as always, happy reading! <3

————

Jane Fonda is a fucking fantastic woman. But right now, you hate her. 

She manages to look stunning and effortless with each kick of her legs; while you are sweating profusely, your shorts are up your ass, and your fingers are swollen from overheating. 

You hate exercising in the moment, but once her thirty minute video is over and her group of people in tights and tiny shorts are gone, admittedly you do feel better. Rinsing the sweat from your face, feeling your muscles ache the next day—it brings you some sort of satisfaction. 

Your body likes that you’ve gotten more active. 

But your own hatred for your body was the reason you allowed Jane Fonda into your home to begin with. Sick, right? You know it’s bad, and yet each time you squat, crunch, and press, you can’t stop yourself from wishing you were shaped differently. From looking at the toned and athletic bodies in Miss Fonda’s videos and imagining what it would be like to feel that comfortable in your own skin, to be so graceful and…perfect.

So, you continue to push yourself, in hopes that you’ll become more appealing, that if you keep doing this, there will come a point where you aren’t totally and completely disgusted with the body you’ve been given. 

Because at this point, you’ve truly convinced yourself that you cannot be happy in your body. Even if you have noticed your strength levels increasing and really want to push yourself more. But you won’t let that positivity ring free like the woman on your television always wishes you would. 

“You did a great job!” Jane’s voice rings throughout your living room as the workout video ends, and you scramble for the remote, having had enough of these cheery attitudes for one morning.

You sit back on your hands, stretch out your legs, and try to steady your breath. Your knees have carpet burn, and you can feel sweat dripping down your temples. 

You may be a heaving mess, but you need more. The workouts have gotten easy, and you need something new. 

A woman runs by outside your window in a bright pink leotard and blue jogging shorts, matching pink leg warmers meeting her tennis shoes.

I could try that, you think. Maybe I’d like running. 

You certainly didn’t like it in school, but most of that was the result of shitty phys-ed teachers and the fact that you were never the athlete those instructors wanted you to be. 

You push off the floor and stalk to your room, digging for the sneakers you know are buried in the back of your closet. You have to try this. You need to keep pushing yourself. And if you don’t do it now, with this sudden spark of energy, you probably never will. 

Five minutes. You can run for five minutes. And if you feel like you can after that time is up, you’ll do ten. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as you’re tying your shoes, shoving away the thoughts telling you that you’ll definitely not look as cute as that woman on the street or any other woman that goes for a run, their ponytail swaying and their cheeks perfectly pinked. 

But what does it matter? You have to try. You have to be productive and make something out of yourself. You can’t deal with the pulsing, clawing thoughts of self-hatred anymore. Your body has to change.

The only problem is that you haven’t yet realized your mindset must too.

The heat that swallows you up when you step out of your front door is almost enough to send you right back inside. But how disappointed will you be in yourself if you retreat that quickly? 

You let your body begin to walk before your brain can start to argue. Your street doesn’t really have a sidewalk, so you keep to one side as the cyclists and other joggers do, ensuring you won’t be in anyone’s way. Subconsciously, you’re already making yourself smaller even though there’s no one outside to judge you. 

You look down at your watch, noting the time, and start to run. Not as though you’re being chased by a serial killer—or a man—but enough that it counts as a run. Those first few seconds are blissful. You feel like a little kid as the adrenaline spreads through your veins. Like your mom has just called you in because dinner is ready, like you're racing against the sunset so that your feet land inside the door just before the streetlights flick on. 

You forgot what it was like to move your body in this way. To feel this momentary freedom. You make it about three minutes before your side starts to hurt, a telltale sign that you haven’t done this in far too long. The heat is starting to get to you too, but you said you’d go for five, and that’s what you’re doing. 

It’s pitiful, the way you press yourself to the inside of your front door, trying to catch your breath from that little bit of work. Why did it hurt so much more than everything Jane Fonda tells you to do? 

Maybe you’re not meant to be the athletic type. Or maybe I need to eat something, you think. I need to make a plan for myself. That could make it easier. 

You can’t eat with your shirt sticking to your back though, so you strip and turn the shower on, practically jumping under the cool stream of water. But not before you glance at your body in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Your hands find your stomach, eye each stretch mark and bit of cellulite. Each extra-soft spot of skin, every part of you that doesn’t conform to the vision you have in your head. 

You wish that five minute run had fixed everything. That you could magically look like an aerobics instructor and be happy in your own skin. Your eyes fill with tears, and you think for a minute that it could be better to just stop before you get ahead of yourself. What’s the point? You don’t know if you have it in you to wait and see results. And you know you won’t turn into someone else, won’t form a new shape…and then you’re spiraling. You can’t think of a single reason why exercising is worth it.

Because it can be fun. Because it pushes you and makes you stronger. You shove this tiny voice away and let your gaze flick back to the shower, where you’ve completely abandoned your cold sanctuary. You hop in and start scrubbing your hair, trying to think of anything that isn’t your body in that mirror, anything other than how much you looked like a fraud trying to fit in with everyone else. 

————

You continue on this way for a while longer: running in the mornings, doing as many of the Jane Fonda videos as you have access to at work, drinking more water, blah blah blah. One of the perks of working at the library is that you can check out as many tapes as you want. But you’ve done all of Jane’s workouts, and you need more. 

You could swim, but when is the community pool ever not full to the brim during the summer? You could try jazzercise. No. That’s just not for you. You could…go to the gym. 

The pool also has small gyms for both women and men, and you know the men’s one is usually very busy, but most of the women in Hawkins take part in other forms of exercise. And if you went in the mornings…you might have the place to yourself. You might could try and tone up. 

God, this sounds so stupid. 

And your heart rate picks up just thinking about doing this very new and very big and very embarrassing thing, but you want to do it. You’re going to try. 

Hopefully you’ll just go unnoticed. This is a totally normal thing for people to do, right? 

The community pool opens at ten during the week, but the doors to the gyms open at seven. And that’s what time you get there, out of pure fear that you’ll have to interact with another human and make a fool of yourself. But the universe must be looking out for you on this particular morning, because the door is unlocked, and you slip in without any hassle. 

Billy isn’t a morning person. He never has been, but an excuse to get out of his hellhole of a house before anyone else is up to fuck with him? Yeah, he jumped at that opportunity. 

Usually the manager opens the gyms and stays to open the pool during the summer, but he volunteered. Especially because he can usually get in a workout before his shift technically even starts. 

He’ll bench as much as he can without a spot, work on the pull ups he never tells anyone he struggles with. It just feels good to be able to use his muscles and push himself. Billy is proud of what his body can do, what it does for him, how it protects him—and he’s not ashamed to admit that.

His body is one of the only things he has control over, and he’s heard his share of people talking about how vain he is, how he shouldn’t spend so much time doing this or that. But he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s built a body he’s proud of and feels comfortable in, and truthfully he feels like everyone should be comfortable in their body without anyone else pushing them to look another way. 

Billy is leaning against his car, hands tangled in his hair in an effort to tie it up, a cigarette dangling loosely from his full lips when he sees you for the first time. 

He watches you get in your car, bag slung over your shoulder, interested only because he never sees another soul here this early. 

You’re pretty, he thinks. Your hairline shines in the morning sunlight, damp with sweat, your neck the same. Your sports bra peeks through your pale shirt, and one of your slouchy socks is hiked up higher than the other. You’ve clearly just finished working out, but he thinks you look breathtaking. 

There’s something about you. Something light and sweet that he can feel even from this distance, like something is telling him you have a good soul. 

The next time Billy sees you, you come out of the door looking frustrated—he assumes at yourself. He doesn’t want to bother you, but he would like to talk to you at some point. 

You turn around when you go to unlock your car door and lock eyes with him. Your heart stutters at the fact that someone has caught you, probably knows you were exercising. But he is gorgeous. You give him a small smile, and climb into the driver's seat. All you can think on the drive home is that it must be nice to be so effortlessly gorgeous. 

————

You continue on this way for weeks. Close to a month. You workout, you wave and acknowledge one another. This other person who you share this tiny thing with and who you are not judged by. 

On this particular day, you decide to be brave though. You packed a swimsuit, and you’re going to speak to that gorgeous boy and hope he doesn’t get freaked out by you. 

You place your weights back on the rack, the muscles in your thighs pulsing, your arms feeling like jelly. You’ve only worked your way up to the set of fifteens, but that’s something, right? 

You’re sweating, and dread walking outside into the swath of steadily climbing heat and humidity. Your heart pounds at the prospect of speaking to him. 

With your bag over your shoulder, you push open the door and step outside, jumping almost immediately. “Shit!” 

Billy laughs at your reaction, both because he hadn’t expected to frighten you, and because your jolt was pretty entertaining to witness. 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I didn’t mean to make you lose your shit, it’s just too hot to stand anywhere without shade.”

You lean against the cool metal door behind you. “Fuck,” you sigh. “My survival skills are clearly not what they should be.”

Billy laughs into his drink, taking a swig from the Coke he bought at the vending machine. 

“You headed out?” he asks, subconsciously fussing with a belt loop. 

“Well, yeah, I was. But um, I was going to ask a favor from you, if that’s okay?” You must sound like a dumbass, speaking to this man for the very first time, only to ask him for something.

“Shoot,” Billy responds.

“Do you think it’d be okay for me to swim a few laps in the pool? I know it’s not open yet, and I haven’t even told you my name, but I promise not to be a bother or anything. I just kind of wanted a chance to swim when there was no one else around, you know?”

Billy finishes his drink and tosses the can in the recycling bin inches from your hip. It lands with a resounding ping. 

You start to think this was a very stupid idea, and that maybe you should’ve just kept yourself at home like always.

“You can totally say no—”

“Yeah, sure I don’t see why not—”

Your words clash together and the both of you start to laugh. You raise your hand, gesturing for him to continue his thought. 

“It’s fine by me if you swim a little. I doubt you’re gonna trash the place.” He grins at you, dimples forming in his cheeks. “I’m Billy, by the way.”

A heat rises up your neck and washes over the tips of your ears. You tell him your name and thank him for letting you bend the rules. 

“Ah, fuck the rules. It’s just a community pool,” he winks, opening up the gate for you and telling you to have at it. 

You’d put your one-piece on underneath your workout clothes this morning, and you try to ignore the prick of shame, even disgust, that you feel having put your body in it as you wade into the pool. 

The water is cool, and as it drenches you, you feel lighter, somehow. You swim out to the deep end and push off the wall with your toes, propelling yourself underwater and kicking for as long as you can go while holding your breath. 

The little girl that still lives within your soul leaps to the surface, giddy with each push off the wall, each stroke of your arms underneath the water. She is excited. Free. 

She isn’t thinking about what your stomach looks like in this swimsuit or how stupid you probably look with your sloppy swimming skills. 

You swim for maybe twenty minutes, or at least until your shoulders are aching. You kick over to the wall, hoisting yourself up just that little bit so you can prop your elbows up on the warming concrete. 

You feel so light here that it almost makes you forget why you came. 

You hear footsteps and Billy appears from around the corner, a fluffy white towel in hand. 

“You getting out? I figured I’d come and make sure you hadn’t drowned.” 

You giggle. The sound makes him smile, pearly white teeth on display. Your eyes are drawn to his, where the summer sun has multiplied his freckles so much that they blanket his nose and the tops of his cheeks, washing over his temples. 

“I appreciate you looking out for my safety,” you say, climbing up the short ladder. Billy holds out a hand to help you steady yourself as you stand. You’re hesitant to take it because you’re all wet, but your hand moves before your mind takes control. “Thank you.” You give him a shy smile.

He grins at you and hands you the towel. You wrap it around your shoulders and follow him back under the awning when he starts walking away. Billy leans up against the cold brick wall and you stand, a little nervously, in front of him, trying to think of what to say. 

“I’ll admit, uh, it’s been nice to see someone else here so early in the mornings.” Billy lets out a huff of a laugh. “I was gonna ask though, why’d you pick this shithole to workout in?”

You pull the damp towel tighter against your torso. “It’s a quiet shithole,” you say. “And this whole exercising thing is pretty new to me, you know? I didn’t want to be somewhere people could see me like that.”

You realize how self-deprecating that comment was, realize you’re being too upfront, and try to quickly cover your ass. “What about you?” you ask, daring to make eye contact just to make sure he’s not disturbed. 

“Well, it came with the job,” he laughs, “and I love working out. Always have. Plus, it might be a shitty place, but the older equipment is a lot better than what newer gyms are using. So it works for me.”

Huh. 

“Oh. Nice.” You chew on your thumbnail. What a fuckup you are. 

Billy tilts his head, trying to encourage your gaze to raise to his. “What just happened?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

You look at him, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair and arms crossed in front of his chest. “It’s nothing…I just don’t really know what to say to someone who enjoys the gym? Who has a positive relationship with it and everything.”

A crease forms between Billy’s brows. “You’ve been crazy consistent with it, but you don’t like it?” He asks you, but based on your body language and how you’ve acted the past month every time you head out, everything adds up and Billy knows the answer before it even leaves your mouth. 

You shake your head, ashamed that you even brought this up. “No,” you laugh nervously. “I hate it. I only started because I’m unhappy with myself? So it’s more of a punishment than something that brings me joy.”

Billy’s chest squeezes at your words. That is exactly why he started working out all those years ago. To make himself stronger because he was ashamed his father had power over him. Because he wasn’t good enough for anyone, so out of anger he made himself more powerful.

But he doesn’t want you to feel that way. You shouldn’t be working out purely to punish yourself for some absurd reason your mind has come up with. 

And even though Billy has had very minimal interactions with you, he likes you. He wouldn’t wish the horrible thoughts he’s had for himself on anyone else, but he gets the feeling you already know. 

“Well, I’m not gonna berate you or nothin.’ But uh, if you ever want help, or want to workout together so it’s not so miserable, let me know alright?”

You smirk at him, hoping to make the situation a bit less awkward. “Are you implying you’re the reason working out would become less miserable?”

Billy laughs, glad to see you’re not totally opposed to the idea of him offering help. “Yeah. But really, you shouldn’t have to hate it y’know? If I can help you figure out not to hate it…I’d like to try. And we could get to know each other better.”

Billy fidgets with the lighter in his pocket. He’s weaned off cigarettes, but he keeps loads of lighters around so he has something to occupy his hands with. If not, it’s usually not a good situation for him to be in. 

Your heart squeezes at the genuine quality in his words. You feel like you’re a lost cause at this point, but there’s a big part of you, the soft and squishy and easily flustered one, that wants to take him up on this offer. 

You nod, wrapping up your towel so you can drop it in the bin and go get changed. “Okay. I’ll think about it, Billy. Promise.”

————

“One more.”

“I can’t, Billy. I told you, I’m not strong enough for this shit.”

You swear when you’re frustrated. Billy has learned that over the past few weeks. 

He crouches, leveling with you. Your knee bounces, the dumbbells in your hands sitting on the tops of your thighs. “Yes, you can. You’re already up to twenty-fives for your presses. Try one more for me and then you can rest a minute.”

Your eyes well with tears that you quickly blink away as you settle back against the bench. This is the point in a workout where you just start to hate yourself. You think it’s pointless, you know you’re body hasn’t changed enough, you feel like total shit—everything just feels fucked.

You use your knees to help lift the dumbbells and slowly lift them to the appropriate height, making sure to protect your shoulders like Billy taught you. You inhale and raise them up. Your arms are shaking, especially your non-dominant one which is really fighting this shoulder press, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to lift them fully until you do. 

“Fuck, yeah!” Billy’s voice reaches your ears just as you’re lowering your arms, completely out of breath. You set the dumbbells on the floor. 

Billy is thrilled for you. He can see the progress you’re making, how much stronger you are and less hesitant to try new exercises.

When you look up at him the expression on your face tells him you are not thrilled. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

You stand and walk over to the mirror that covers one whole wall. You put your hands on your hips and bite the inside of your cheek. “Billy, will you look at me, honestly?” You gesture to your body. “This is the matter. I don’t look any different than the first day I showed up here, do I? Even if I’ve been busting my ass, I’ll just never—”

You stop, rubbing your hands down your face and over your bloodshot eyes. 

“You’ll never what?” Billy locks eyes with you in the mirror. 

You set a hand on your chest, nails digging into your skin. “My body will never be good enough for me. I’ll always look at every other person that walks by, jealous that they have the figure I want and I’ll never have. Why did I have to get stuck with this shit? Why couldn’t I be given a body that I’d be happy with. Life if fucking hard enough, why couldn’t I have this one thing?”

“And you’re just so effortlessly gorgeous, you know that? I wish it was that easy for me, too. It’s just like, why am I even doing this anymore when I know I’ll never look the way other women do? I’m bullshitting myself, aren’t I, Billy? Working out like it’s gonna do anything.”

You exhale and drag your arm across your nose, avoiding Billy’s gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.” Billy’s tone is firm. “Listen for a second, will you?”

“You are getting stronger. You’re using heavier weights all around. Shit, you’re up to fifty for your deadlifts. Hold your arm up for me—yeah, and squeeze, yep. Look at that.” 

He taps his index and middle finger on your bicep, on the bit of muscle you’ve grown and shape you’ve built. “You are absolutely not bullshitting yourself, you hear me? If anything, you’re bullshitting yourself by thinking you can’t be happy in this body. You don’t have to look like other women. Who the fuck put that idea in your head? I don’t know if you see how I look at you, but I think you’re gorgeous, and I love to see you becoming more comfortable in the movements you do, in your own strength. Your body does so fuckin’ much for you.”

Billy is still keeping eye contact with you in the mirror. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and you swear you sweat more because you know he’s right and you know you are getting stronger but fuck you just can’t believe that. You look at him and you just wish you were that lithe, that comfortable in your own skin. 

“I’m doing this with you—hey, take a deep breath, alright?” He clocks the way you’re shaking out your hands, trying to keep yourself from breaking. Crying. Screaming out of frustration. “I’m doing this with you because I used to be just like this, you hear me?” 

He hates being vulnerable, fucking despises it, but he knows that giving you this information, giving you this little pathway into his life just might save you right now. 

“I worked out all through junior high and high school because I fuckin’ hated myself, and I thought if I could get bigger, if I could make myself look intimidating, then maybe other people wouldn’t treat me like shit. That part worked in some places, but I didn’t like myself any more because I hadn’t sorted through any of my mental shit.”

He says your name. Slowly. You like the way it sounds when he says it, hating the way it sounds when it leaves your own lips. 

“I know we aren’t all that close yet, but I see so much fuckin’ potential in you. I’m not gonna let you suffer with all this shit alone. I know you hate your body, but this is the one you were given, and there’s no point spending so much time destroying yourself over that simple fact.”

You turn around to face him, your hands on the sides of your neck, rubbing as if that will stop the emotion from rising in your throat. It doesn’t work. Billy’s eyes move back and forth between yours, across your face, tracking every change in your expression. He recognizes what you’re doing, trying to suppress all of this. 

“C’mere.”

You go before your mind can fight back. Billy takes you in his arms, tucking your face into his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You breathe unsteadily into his skin. You don’t care that he smells like sweat and you smell like sweat and that you’re shaking and tears are slipping from your eyes. His arms are strong, and the feeling of his biceps squeezing you closer, his hands running up and down your back, it makes it all feel like it’s okay. 

“It’s just so fucking hard, Billy,” you mumble, lifting your head up slightly. “It’s not fair. I just want to be pretty and normal and have a body I can accept like everyone else.”

Billy gently touches his index finger just below your chin, coaxing your gaze up to meet his. “I know it is. And I mean it when I say that you are pretty. Honestly, you gotta think about how many ‘pretty’ people there are out there, people who have the bodies the tabloids tell them to have—and are absolute dicks. Hell, that’s how I was in high school.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling that he did get a little joy in you having admitted that, even if it’s not a full on smile. His thumb swipes down your cheek, mopping up the little track left by a tear. 

“Point is, this, what I’m holding right now, is your body. No one else would know it like you do, know how to take care of it, know where each mark has come from or each thing you’ve put it through. Each thing it’s gotten you through. You can accept it, because I’m going to help you get to a point where you can look in the mirror and not shit-talk yourself.”

You pull back a little, pressing the palms of your hands to your face, your elbows slightly poking the top of Billy’s rib cage. “I’m just so scared.”

“I got you, you hear me?” He pulls your shirt away from your collarbones just so it’s not sticking to your skin so much. “You don’t need to be scared. Not with me.”

You nod. And you keep doing that until it feels a little more believable. 

————

Billy can’t stop looking at you. 

And he really needs to focus before he runs off the sidewalk and into the road. 

But for the first time in the few months he’s known you, you look free. You look happy. You look all of these things and you’re running. There’s a baseball cap perched backwards on your head, one of his from forever ago that he lent (gave) you when you mentioned you didn’t have any. 

He can smell the sunscreen you’ve slathered all over yourself, see the sweat dripping down your spine. This is the first time you’ve felt brave enough to go out in just a sports bra and a cropped sweatshirt, bright colored biker shorts covering the tops of your thighs. Your frilly socks make it too, just because it shows how much more comfortable you’ve gotten with doing this. 

It turns out you never hated running. You just needed to do it in a different atmosphere, with different thoughts running through your head. And having a good running partner helps, too. 

“There’s a bench up here if you want to rest a second before we finish,” Billy says through a rather aggressive exhale. You’re glad the sun is setting, because that makes it so much cooler than when you try to run in the morning with the sun beating down on you and seeping into your veins.

You sit down, taking a long drink from your water. Billy crouches on the sidewalk, shaking out his hair and retying the mess of a bun he was wearing. 

“You’re doing so good today,” he tells you, winking at you from his place just a few inches to your left. 

You grin into your water bottle. “How long was that?” you ask. 

He rises and sits down next to you, his arm slung behind your back on the bench. His thumb brushes the shell of your ear, rubs over the little hoop you’re wearing. You watch as he does a little math in his head, checking out where exactly you are. “Little over two miles, bee.” 

Bee. Your heart skips every time he says that. It’s a very new thing, but it sort of slipped out one day, and you’ve loved it ever since. 

“What movie you wanna see this weekend, honeybee? My treat.”

When you’d asked why he chose that name for you, he’d teased at first, telling you it was just because you’re so damn sweet. But really it was a little more sappy than that. 

“Well, you are sweet. And bubbly when you want to be. But think about how much shit those little fuckers get done. How persistent and focused. They’re all cute and fuzzy n’ whatever, but they’re like, badass lil’ things, y’know?” 

Your knee bounces excitedly on the pavement. “Really?” That’s the farthest you’ve run so far. And you didn’t even hate it. You had…fun.

Billy laughs, throwing his head back a little and bearing his neck to you. It shines with sweat and it almost looks like he’s glowing. “Fuck yeah. You’ve been kicking my ass this week. I hate running.”

“But you do it with me,” you say.

“But I do it with you.”

You reach over your shoulder and squeeze his hand. “I like running better when it’s with you. Just for the record.” He squeezes back, lifting your hand up gently to press his lips to it. 

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

A crease forms between your brows as you meet his gaze. “What for?”

“For not giving up.” You start to argue with him, but he continues before you can belittle yourself even the slightest bit. “You’ve kept at this, at trying to get yourself stronger and to try and feel more comfortable in what your body can do. I know you probably still wish you looked like some fuckin’ model or some shit, but I can see how much you’ve eased up, you know?” 

You nod, giving him a small smile. “I do still wish that sometimes. It would be easier. But I’m getting better, I think. I hate to tell you you’re right—,” he shoots you that cocky, prideful grin, “but my body does do a lot for me. I’m starting to accept that it can do a lot for me…” 

You trail off, tapping the toes of your sneakers on the concrete below you. “And I did squat with the bar and those little plates yesterday without a spot.” 

The spot in question was watching you carefully from a few feet away, ready to sprint if you needed help. 

“Yes, you did, bee. You’re kicking ass.” That dimple forms in his cheek, and you know he’s about to say something smart. “Speaking of ass—”

You stand abruptly, turning around quickly so that the area he’s speaking of isn’t directly in his face. You’ve learned he has a staring problem, specifically with that part of you. Not that you mind. Maybe that’s where your pride comes in.

————

The sun has slipped beneath the horizon by the time Billy slips his key into the gate, pulling it securely shut behind him. The first spattering of stars are trying to show in the purple-blue sky. 

The pool is calm, empty, and lit only by the pale bulbs built into it and the two light poles on either side of the patio. 

It was Billy’s idea to sneak in for a late night swim. He thought it would be fun, and he knows you hate swimming in an overcrowded pool. But truthfully, he just wanted to give you another space where you could feel completely without judgment and just exist. 

“What’s the plan here, Billy? I didn’t even think about taking a detour to get a swimsuit.” 

It’s true, you’ve felt so carefree around him that you weren’t overthinking, overanalyzing a scenario like this. You weren’t worried about running inside and finding the most full coverage bathing suit you have because you’re afraid of Billy seeing your body. But right now…you just feel calm. Your body isn’t perfect, but it’s okay if he at least sees your legs. 

Billy is already slipping off his shoes and taking off his shirt. “That’s because the point of this is being spontaneous, bee.” He walks to the far end of the pool and dives in, just in his little running shorts, before you can even blink. 

You’re nervous, just that little bit because this is so different from something you’d usually do, and now you’re just stripping? You’re just living and having a good time? Who the fuck are you?

You step out of your own shorts and pull off your socks. You’re left in your underwear and your little cropped sweatshirt. You register, as you walk down the stairs, that your underwear are blue, and you look just like Lisa from Weird Science. It makes you smile. 

You track Billy’s movements once you're up to your waist and realize he’s heading for you. He squeezes your ankle beneath the water before coming to the surface, a wide grin on his face. His necklace is stuck around his back and on instinct you reach out to straighten it. 

His eyes drag up and down your figure. “Hi, gorgeous.” The low drawl of his voice makes the tips of your ears burn. 

You wade a little deeper into the water, circling behind him. When you’re drenched up to your chest, you splash him. Billy cackles. It is possibly the most joyous sound you’ve ever heard. 

He dives for your waist, hooking an arm around you and swimming off, making you howl with laughter before you have to hold your own breath when he pulls you out deeper than you are tall.

He hoists you up out of the water and gently tosses you to the side, letting you fall into the water on your back. The adrenaline coursing through your veins is magical. 

You keep playing with him, playing, like you’re both kids who’ve never been in a pool before, until you’ve run through most of your energy. You try and teach him a game you played as a child, where one person spreads their legs and your goal is to swim between them without touching their skin, even as they move their legs closer together each time. 

It’s silly, because you inevitably know you’ll touch your opponents legs, but it’s fun. You don’t think about anything else when you do it. He teases you though, trapping you with his calves most times so you automatically lose. 

Now though, you and Billy stand nose to nose, at a depth where you’re not up to your chin so that you can actually speak to him. “This was a really good idea,” you tell him. You push some of his wet hair out of his face and then, rather than pulling away, you set your hands on his shoulders. 

He wraps his arms around your waist. “This okay?” he asks, lowering one arm so he can show you he wants to lift you up. You give him a sweet yes. 

Billy’s hand grips your thigh, coaxing you upward so you can get your legs around his back. You adjust your arms behind his head, him respectfully keeping his hands on the backs of your thighs. He steps back just that little bit more so he can submerge himself further in the water now that you’re held up. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile for this long before,” Billy says. His blue eyes flick back and forth between your own. 

“You’ve given me a lot more reasons to.” Your hand cups his cheek and he swears he could fucking collapse. You’re so gentle with him and Billy never knew he even wanted that. But now he craves it. Craves you. 

That cocky smirk you’ve started to recognize before it even begins makes an appearance. “Yeah? Can I give you one more reason to?”

You hum in agreement, and then Billy is pressing his lips to yours. They’re damp and he tastes a little like chlorine, but…he was right. You smile brilliantly into the kiss, and you’re not sure you stop the rest of the night either. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[sunnebeam]

"i always get the job done."

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi being unironically romantic

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: tysm for all the love in the first drabble! here's more of househubby!yoongi & his badass wife,, as always, lemme know ur thoughts :>

You're stepping off the bus, having clocked out of work earlier than usual, when you see your husband strolling along the sidewalk with his signature apron on and a mesh tote bag on his shoulder.

"Yoonie!" you call out to him.

Your heels clack against the pavement as you run towards him. The bits of impact hurt your soles but you forget all about the pain when Yoongi kisses you on the forehead as soon as you reach him.

"You're early," he remarks, grabbing your hand and placing it on his bicep before walking the two of you to the direction he was going.

"Boss let us leave early," you explain, oblivious to the looks that other passersby are giving you and your husband.

("Is he a gangster?"

"He looks so scary!"

"What is he doing with that woman?"

"Is he kidnapping her?!")

It's when Yoongi leads you to a secluded alley that you realize you're not heading towards your home.

"Uh, Yoonie? Where are we going?"

Your husband smiles radically.

"You'll see."

He leads you through a bunch of twists and corners before finally arriving at an equally secluded shop. The dim lighting does nothing to deter him as he opens the squeaky door and leads you both inside.

"Ah, Yoongi," a deep rumble echoes as soon as you walk in. "You're back."

"Of course," your husband responds. "I did everything you told me to do."

Huh?

"Did you, now?" the voice taunts, and you can finally match a face to the voice when he steps into the light. "Are you sure you did everything?"

"I always get the job done. You know me, Seokjin."

The job?

The man called Seokjin sneers before nodding and heading to his shop's backroom, leaving you and your husband alone.

"Yoonie?" you call his name. "What's going on?"

"A gamble, darling," he tells you. "I'm making a gamble."

Your eyes widen. "What?! Are you—"

"Yoongi, are you ready?"

Seokjin emerges from the backroom with a big cork board in tow. The board is brightly decorated, divided into three sections each showing different...

"...prizes?" you think out loud. "Yoonie, what is all this?"

"A stamp scavenger hunt, darling," your husband explains in a no-nonsense tone as Seokjin hands him a dart. "I've collected ten stamps from ten different stores like Seokjin told me to."

Oh. Oh.

"Why didn't you just say so?" you laugh, nerves vanishing as you take a good look at the cork board. "Well, what's the prize?"

"Third place gets a cute plushie," Seokjin gives you the rundown. "Second place gets a self-cleaning robot vaccuum—"

("That's what I was hoping to get.")

"—and first place gets an all-expense paid trip for two to Jeju."

("Yoonie, forget the vaccuum. Get this!")

And so the gamble begins.

The three of you wait with bated breaths as Yoongi positions himself. His eyes are closed and he blows air on the blunt end of the dart as if it'll help. Opening his eyes, he takes a deep breath, swings his arm back lightly, then throws the dart.

It lands on third place.

"Oooooh! It looks so cute!" you squeal, taking the cute plushie from Seokjin and hugging it to your chest. "It looks like Holly!"

Your happy giggles flood the shop.

"Well, Yoongi," Seokjin tuts. "Sorry but..." He smirks. "Looks like you lost."

Your husband looks at you nuzzling the plushie in delight.

"You fool," Yoongi says, "haven't you realized by now?" Now he's the one smirking. "The true prize is seeing my beautiful wife's smile—"

"Yoonie! Stop embarrassing me!"

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[inurnctdreams]

00:00 - l.dh

idol!haechan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, drabble

warnings: swearing, suggestive, mentions of sex, pet names (baby, hyuckie)

wc: 0.7k

“happy birthday dear hyuckie, happy birthday to you!”

“hi baby, thank you.” donghyuck’s voice is quiet and slightly raspy. nothing you haven’t heard multiple times before, but not what you’d expected when you’d called your boyfriend at exactly midnight in his current time zone.

“did… did i wake you up?” you frown, and your voice must betray your disbelief if his cute little chuckles over the line are anything to go by.

“maybe, i fell asleep like twenty minutes after i ate dinner.”

“were the guys not with you?” you pout. you’d at least taken some comfort in the fact that he’s surrounded by the rest of the dreamies for the start of his birthday if you can’t be there.

“they’re here.” he says. “our intention was to stay up.”

“and you all fell asleep? that’s actually really fucking funny.” you can’t help the giggles that escape you at the thought of all seven of them crowding in one hotel room to see donghyuck’s birthday in, only to not make it to midnight.

“yeah, i guess we were all pretty tired.”

“wait, does that mean i still got to be the first person to say it?!” you say excitedly. it’s not yet his birthday where you are, but you’d be damned if you were gonna let a silly thing like time zones come between you and making sure your boyfriend started off his day showered in love, albeit virtual.

“uh-huh.” he smiles, leaving out the fact that he’d been planning on answering your call before anyone else could wish him happy birthday anyway. you’d been so cutely adamant that distance wouldn’t stop you from being the first. “i miss you so much.” you almost don’t hear the whisper. if you didn’t know him so well, you’d chalk the voice crack up to him only just waking up.

“i miss you too, baby. twenty-one hours.” you let yourselves sit with the bittersweet feeling for a moment. tears begin to form in your own eyes but you blink them away. “i cannot wait to give you your presents, i think i’ve outdone myself this year!”

“all i need is you.” he elongates the vowels in ‘you’, trying to match your cheery tone.

“ew, stop being so greasy! plus, you love presents and i’m still mad my master plan to have them sent to you was ruined.”

“management did have a point about the shipping time issues, plus this way you can see me open them properly.” he reasons. “i can’t wait to hug you again.”

“just hug me?” you smirk.

“this was supposed to be a cute, innocent birthday call, not phone sex!” he gasps dramatically, sending you both into another fit of giggles.

“okay, okay.” you relent. “i guess the whole point of birthday sex is to do it in person.”

“tease.”

“we did not need to hear that.” another voice chimes in, clearly muffled and far away.

“why are you even on the phone so late?” mark questions, sounding closer than jaemin had. “oh shit dude, happy birthday!”

“is it already midnight?” jisung’s voice is muffled, and then you hear rustling and yells for the other boys to wake up.

“i’ll let you go, have fun with the boys!” you smile.

“no!” hyuck immediately whines.

“it’s okay baby, have a good morning and let me know when you’re boarding and landing, yeah?”

“fine.” he sighs, and you can hear the pout in his voice. the mental image of him, bedhead and traces of sleep, has you mourning the fact that you can’t squish his cheeks or kiss his forehead. yet, you remind yourself. “i’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you as soon as i get back.”

“i’m holding you to that.” you smile, ignoring the fake gagging sounds in the background.

“get some rest too, i know you have work in the morning.”

“i’ll try.” you knew it would be difficult to settle your restless brain but he was right, you did have work, plus the stuff you’d planned for when he got home that you had managed to keep a surprise. “happy birthday, hyuckie. i love you.”

“i love you too.” you glance down at your phone when the call ends.

twenty-one hours.

[amyelevenn]

All I know is that you drove us off the road

PAIRING; Oscar Piastri x driver!reader

SUMMARY; Oscar insists on taking you to the airport after a race, but faces engine problems on the way there.

WARNINGS; none really - mainly fluff! maybe a car breaking down?

A/N; I really enjoyed writing this! let me know any thoughts and feelings are always appreciated!

1.8k words masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・♥︎・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・♥︎・✫・゜・。.

“No, please. I can make my own way to the airport, Piastri,” you laugh, giving him a shit eating grin at his implication. “I can drive, ya know.”

It was the Monday after the Melbourne Grand Prix; it wasn’t a particularly notable race for either of you, despite you both finishing in point scoring positions. It wasn’t an overly entertaining race; no flags or spectacular overtakes from anyone in particular.

“You were drunk last night, not sure you should be driving,” he grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes.

A couple drinks were consumed the night before at a local bar Oscar’s friends had told you about. It wasn’t much, not overly busy on a random Sunday night in March. It allowed for some kind of anonymity, something that was quickly becoming a foreign concept to you.

You shove his shoulder, giggling as you feign anger. “I had two drinks! In what world does that classify as being drunk?”

Oscar rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a happy chuff. “Please, come to the airport with me. I’m going that way anyway!”

It’s hard not to deadpan at him; you may not have been a local, but you knew well enough that the Melbourne Airport wasn’t exactly near anything else. It was well over an hour from the city, where he was claiming to be headed.

“Osc, just accept the no,” you half beg, beginning to roll your suitcase away from him and towards where your team were gathered. You almost manage to take two steps before his hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back in his direction.

He had miscalculated how close you would end up being to him – you were mere inches away from his face, bodies all but pressed against each other.

“I insist. Let me take you to the airport, love,” he mutters, with an air of intimacy that came with the proximity.

You hadn’t realised you were holding your breath in anticipation until your body forced you to sigh. Finally, you give in to his insistence, silently nodding in acceptance. He takes a second, closely examining your face, before moving in the direction of his car. your face heats up ever so slightly, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach not something you were wanting to experience.

You are just friends, a little voice screams in the back of your mind. But the way he looks at you makes you wonder – what if there could be something more?

You were quick with your goodbyes to your team, informing them Oscar had pestered your walls down enough to convince you to ride with him. You comically exaggerate it as much as you can, making him into some sort of creepy guy who doesn’t leave you alone until you finally agree to go out with him. They all laugh, hard, which confuses you until a hand taps on your shoulder, revealing the man himself standing awkwardly behind you.

You excuse yourself from the group, laughter echoing behind you as you and Oscar walk away, his teasing grin matching your own.

“You really think I’m some annoying loser?” he teases, bumping his elbow into yours as you enter the hotel carpark. You barely even notice his hand resting softly on the small of your back as he guides you towards his car.

“Ha ha,” you sarcastically laugh, purposely losing all tone from your voice. He shakes his head as he silently giggles to himself, opening the passenger door for you. You thank him faintly, making a mental note of his little actions that have really established him at the respectful, gentlemanly one on the grid; and rightfully so.

Getting in himself, he revs the engine before pulling away from the crowded midday carpark. A soft silence envelops you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the radio. It wasn’t uncomfortable, nor foreign, sitting in the quiet of each other’s presence. In fact, the tranquillity was a welcomed constant in your ever busy careers.

You had known Oscar for a couple years now, and he was one of the few drivers who actively went out of his way to maintain a positive relationship off the track, despite your lives depending on besting the other ever odd weekend.

As the car navigated the city’s complex grid, the beauty of Albert Park in autumn faded from view, leaving you in awe of the towering Melbournian metropolis—a testament to human ingenuity that always amazed you.

“You drove really well yesterday,” he gives, not necessarily trying to fill the comfortable silence.

“Thank you, Osc. It was certainly better than the crash I had in Bahrain!” you laugh, beginning to find it increasingly hard to ignore his constant glances over to you. “You drove a great race too! That overtake of Leclerc was really quite something.”

He sighs, dismissing the comment as if it meant nothing. He tried so hard to act nonchalant on the surface, but internally? He adored hearing any praise you had for him, even if it wasn’t directly from you, but instead Lando or the PR manager telling him you said ‘Osc is so beyond talented!’

It didn’t take much for you to compliment him, which was the best part; he was always doing something amazing that prompted telling him just how good he was, or how lucky he had gotten that day, or how cool his special livery looked.

Even it was miniscule, you always had a comment for him that would make his day.

You hadn’t even noticed the car slowing to a stop, pulling over on the side of some random suburban road until you were at a full stop, the engine beginning to smoke under the hood.

“Oscar what the hell have you done…” you raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Uh, I’m not sure but I reckon we should maybe get out of the car,” he stutters, pushing himself out of his side before opening the hood to assess the severity of the situation.

You shook your head in disbelief, a chuckle escaping your lips at the absurdity of your situation. Here you are, stuck on the side of the road, while a Formula 1 driver fumbles under the hood. Talk about irony.

It was difficult, watching him rattle around underneath the hood when he clearly had no expertise here and not laugh your ass off. “This feels like…some sort of karma for forcing me to ride with you. I thought you knew how to drive?” you finally laugh, the ludicrosity of it all hitting you like a brick wall.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you watched him struggle – maybe he needed more than a racing licence to handle car troubles.

“Hey, i didn’t twist your arm to get in, love,” he huffs. “And I am an amazing driver, thank you so very much.” He tries to stifle the smile breaking out on his face, but you notice it before it got hidden away.

Before you are able to retaliate, a middle-aged couple emerges from the house you had broken down in front of.

“You fellas alright?” the man asks, pushing the gate outwards so they have a better vantage point over the smoking vehicle.

“We are so sorry, are we in the way?” you ask, putting on a sympathetic show that you had become so used to having for the fans. “We were just about to call for help, they shouldn’t take too long to get here.”

“Nah mate, they’ll take foreva to get ‘ere and cost ya an arm an’ a leg. Let me help youse,” he offers, but doesn’t allow you the option as he waddles over to where Oscar is still hunched over.

The woman moves to stand next to you, introducing herself, Kristyn, and her husband, Mitch. You give yours in return, to which she compliments you on your name. “’ve never met one before,” she muses, repeating your name gently under her breath to herself.

You smile softly, making light small talk as Mitch explains to Oscar what is at fault with the engine.

“You two seem like a gorgeous couple. How long’ve you been datin’?” she asks, not noticing the caught-off-guard expression you have on your face.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as she compliments you, your heart racing at the unexpected attention. It almost bugs you more than you would have anticipated, a sense of embarrassment creeping along your flushed skin.

You ponder telling her the truth, that you aren’t together, but figure it would be easier to go along with it, for her and your sake.

“Almost a year now, yeah,” you smile, feigning a sense of admiration for your ‘boyfriend.’

“Aw, bless your sweet young hearts,” she hums, gently patting your shoulder as if to say you had her approval. It was weird, but it felt nice to have her endorsement of a relationship that wasn’t even real. Maybe you wanted more with Oscar?

You nod along, answering any and all of her follow up questions about him, like how you met, how he asked you out, if marriage was on the table. You almost enjoyed making up a whole story for her, weaving this intricate narrative for her to invest herself in. the pair of you had gotten so caught up in each other that you hadn’t noticed the car being put back together, Mitch reviving the engine in approval of a job well done.

“Well, at least he isn’t the only one who can’t handle car troubles!” you muse, laughing with Kristyn as the boys make their way over to you.

Mitch wraps a lose arm around his wife, and you follow his lead as you intertwine your own around Oscars waist, to which he accepts with no questions.

“Thank you so much for your troubles,” he murmurs. “Can i give you some money or something? It’s the least we could do.”

The couple scoff in sync, laughing at the idea of being paid for merely helping out a stranger. “Nah, we don’t want your dough mate. Just don’t blow the car up, that’ll be enough.”

“Are you sure? Please, let us compensate you in some way, as a thank you,” you suggest.

“Maybe you should drive instead of him, aye?” Kristyn laughs, breaking the four of you into a fit of giggles. You nod in agreement, to which Oscar immediately shoots down with the reason of it’s his car.

“Well, thank you again for your help. We really appreciate it.” Oscar squeezes your shoulders, then releases you as he walks over to the passenger side to open it for you. It wasn’t until then that you realised how much you had been leaning into his side, missing the warmth of him almost immediately. You say your goodbyes, telling them it was really nice to meet them, and one final thank you for their kindness.

As you drive on, laughter spilling between you, you can’t help but think maybe this unexpected detour was just what you needed to explore what’s brewing beneath the surface.

.・。.・゜✭・♥︎・✫・゜・。.

as always, feedback is appreciated!

[earthtooz]

x : SHADE MATCH :*+ﾟ

in which: reo loves your lipstick. even more so when it's on him.

warnings: suggestive towards the end so i am making this a 16+ post, fluff, UNEDITED ASF, 1.3k words, gn!reader, just... me loving reo, reader wears makeup, i am going crazy over him tbh.

a/n: i blacked out writing this tbh. enjoy !! wrote this on a whim 100%

you’re carefully applying your lipstick when a demanding yet familiar figure makes himself known in your peripheral.

glancing over, you catch reo’s eye in the mirror as he leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, subtly adjusting the cartier watch adorned around his wrist. he’s not wearing his blazer jacket yet, and the undone first few buttons of his shirt leaves more to be desired.

you look away before you can fall further in the rabbit hole, puckering your lips a few times before fixing up any stray splashes of colour dotted around your skin. smiling in satisfaction, you cap your lipstick before putting it back with the rest of your cosmetics.

two sculpted arms snake around your waist, and reo’s face finds home next to yours, eye-level with you as he blatantly admires your reflection. 

“stunning as always,” he murmurs, smugness dripping in his tone, and the way his hands squeeze at your hips tell you that he has some less than pure intentions.

“thank you. could say the same about you,” you say in return before breaking eye contact, leaning to grab the necklace you had laid out in preparation for tonight. “keeping your hair down tonight, love?”

reo runs a hand through his locks, letting the fringe fall back in place as he hums in contemplation. “i don’t know, what do you think? what you want me to do is what i’ll choose.”

“you know i love it either way,” you say, “doesn’t change how beautiful you are.”

he beams, your words having an obvious impact on him, but before he could shower you with compliments in kind, you raise your unclasped necklace to him.

“help me out?”

“anything for you,” the purple-haired delicately takes the jewellery from your hands, his heart swelling three times in size when he realises it’s the one he bought for you. in fact, he already noticed that you were wearing the outfit he bought for you, thrilled at how wonderful you looked dressed in his money.

of course, if he said that thought out loud, it would probably be received with a not-so-gentle punch from you. 

he’ll communicate it properly one day but for now, he mutedly admires you, gently brushing his fingers along your neck as he does the clasp for you. after a few moments, reo tells you he’s done by turning you around himself, hands lingering on your hips.

“what are you staring at?” you ask after a while of him simply admiring you, taking his time as if you had all the time in the world. 

well. if that’s what you wanted then reo would make that happen. 

“just the most beautiful masterpiece i’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he replies, hand snaking up to delicately hold your chin, and you realise what he’s trying to do when you see the way his eyes begin to droop before leaning in close.

“no, don’t ki-” you get cut off regardless with the gentle press of reo’s lips against yours, and you falter a little, needing to hold on to the bathroom counter for some semblance of security as the athlete leisurely moulds his lips with yours.

there’s no brain space to dwell over your lipstick when reo is kissing you breathless, pressing you harder against the counter. you pull away with a shiver, pressing a finger to his lips before reo could get ahead of himself and let the kiss heighten in intensity. 

the groan he lets out is an indicator of how unhappy he is with your blocking, but you can only take his pout so seriously when he has your lipstick smeared all over him. you probably look no better and you feel a little scared to turn around and see for yourself.

his breath fans heavily across your lips, eyes gleaming with lust and adoration as he looks down at you. “what was that for?” he complains.

“my lipstick, you ruined it,” you say, “and it’s all on your lips too.”

the athlete smirks, eyes widening in realisation. “is it now?” he asks before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek. you feel it linger before turning around to look in the mirror, confronted by a clear kiss mark on your skin.

“reo!” you huff, “this is hard to wipe off, you know.” 

“just put concealer over it.”

you could slap him and it’s clear that he sees the intent in your eyes because he ducks away, covering his head with boisterous laughter slipping past his lips, the noise echoing around the marble of the bathroom. “please don’t hit me, i’m sorry!” he laughs, trying to sound sincere to no avail.

at the sound of your sigh, reo loosens up, grinning even wider when he sees the way your face lights up at his antics. he decides that he truly is willing to do anything for you, so long as he gets to see you smile at the end of it.

it’s reckless to think so but then again, falling in love with you hasn’t been anything short of, love filling up his lungs until he needs to pour it all out, only to be filled again with every second he finds himself lost in you. 

“fine. this will be payback,” you mutter, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in, placing a kiss on the open expanse of his chest, right near his collarbone.

reo wonders if you could feel the way his heart rate spiked.

after lingering there for a few seconds, you pull away, satisfied with the mark you left behind. “now we’re even.”

you step away from where he had you against the counter, looking for makeup wipes and your concealer to have the two of you looking perfect again. but when reo looks at himself in the mirror, he is immediately entranced with the mark you left behind. 

reo wonders if it was too ridiculous to want it tattooed.

“here,” you say, pressing the makeup wipes against his chest which reo dumbly catches, mind still faraway even when you order him to clean up. 

without thinking, he obeys, cleaning the makeup off his lips. still dazed, he hadn’t realised that you were already done.

“you forgot a spot,” you point out before the purple-haired can feel a cool cream be spread on his skin- your moisturiser, he realises. after putting lip balm on his lips, you make a move to wipe the lipstick stain off his chest when reo snaps back to reality, stepping away from you. “reo… i need to get that off.”

“no, i think it should stay,” he says, voice laced with fascination. 

“babe, c’mon, don’t be silly, you sh-”

“-i’m not being silly, it’s a very nice, very territorial addition to my outfit.”

you’re horrified at the imagery of reo parading around with your kiss mark on his chest. granted, it wasn’t incredibly bold or out-of-place, and if you were going somewhere a little less formal, you would have inclined to agreed.

“i am going to be seeing your parents tonight.”

“they have an eye for art.”

“reo-”

“listen beautiful, what do i gotta do get you to agree?”

“do the dishes for a month, pay for my emotional reparations, donate a grand to charity, and show me a good time, and only then will i agree.”

“too easy,” he smirks. "hope you're ready for the time of your life then, you know i don't like to go the easy route."

BLLK MASTERLIST © 2023 EARTHTOOZ do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites.

[prim-and-rotten]

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 girls night

pairing: (fem)yandere!bestfriend x reader

summary: during a relaxing sleepover with your best friend, you try to cancel the next in favor of a new guy.

a/n: not sure I like how I ended it but ill post it anyway. a tame one for my first

warnings: implied stalking and murder at the end

delicate fingers draw random shapes around your back. jasmine is humming softly to her playlist in the background, a private one, tailor made to suit both of your tastes. it's melodies are blurred and distant, dulled by the heavy blanket of exhaustion enveloping you.

your nights spent together always come to a close like this. Next to two emptied wine glasses sitting at her bedside table, you're now both laying on the softness of her queen sized bed. skincare done, another matching set of glossy polish sticking to your nails, dressed in warm matching pjs she bought a few days prior for the occasion, and hair put up in another heatless overnight curl hack you found online.

"are you falling asleep already?" you can hear the cheeky grin in her voice. the sun is down and the lights are dim, the clock at her bedside table reading 23:36. "It's friday, sleepyhead... i was hoping we'd stay up a little longer." with a quiet snicker, her hand is now resting flat against your back, and it takes a stupid amount of strength in you to not whine and ask her to keep going. really, how could she blame you? she always goes out of her way to make you as comfortable as possible and then acts confused when your eyelids start feeling heavy.

"what else did you have planned for tonight?" you stay still, knowing that if you get her talking and focused on something else she'll go back to aimlessly drawing shapes into your back. and she does. "i was thinking we should watch another scary movie." a sigh escapes you. "you always pick the worst, it's gonna keep me up all night." she snickers again, a bit louder this time now that she knows you're not asleep. "oh no, you'll have to spend more time with me. how terrible!". her hand is on your arm now. "come on, you know that's not what i meant."

a silent beat passes, and her comforting touch almost lulls you back to sleep. almost.

"fine. then before you sleep, let's pick out a recipe for sunday's dinner. you should come over earlier so we can make it together, it'll be fun. i'm getting tired of takeout." she's playing with your hand now, admiring her work and already thinking of what color she should paint your nails next once they start chipping.

sunday. you have your sleepovers on fridays and sundays. sometimes when your schedule allows it, you have them on saturdays too. it's something you've been doing together since high school, and while your schedule now is a little more busy due to school and your part time jobs, you still try to stay consistent with your established routine. you have to pick up your coworkers shift tomorrow, so the next one should be on sunday. wait... you changed plans for sunday. right, your date. you never told her about that. shit.

"actually, i can't do sunday.." she pauses. "why? I thought you're free," the dissatisfaction is clear in her tone. you already know how she's going to react once you tell her, but you can't come up with a lie on the spot. so with no choice left, you finally turn to her and hesitantly begin to explain.

"do you remember seth from last week?" her eyebrows furrow. you met seth after she regrettably left you unattended for a quick trip to the bathroom at the frat party you dragged her to last week, one she really, really did not want to go to. if there's one thing jas hates, it's sweaty frat boys making moves on her and worst of all you. she couldn't care less about making new girl friends either because she already has you, and in her eyes you're all she really needs.

"no." that's a lie. yes she remembers, unfortunately so. when she saw you two tucked away at a corner a little too close for comfort, she almost gagged. she walked, no, practically ran to you to drag you away from his filthy hands. what could he possibly have said to you to put that smile on your face? it's not the kind you give to her, it's cute and shy and your cheeks are red and she can't tell if it's the alcohol in your system or him who made them bloom into that pretty color. seth, whose name honestly rolls off her tongue like shit. seth, the greasy frat boy with the ugly mug. the one you're somehow actually interested in. great.

"you don't? i don't remember you drinking that much." your voice is quieter, like you're trying to tread lightly. because of course you are, she's doing a pretty terrible job at hiding her disgust, and at this realization she tries to tone it down for your sake. "yeah I don't, remind me." so you do. just in case you drop some details about the conversation you had at the party, so she doesn't have to ask outright for all the details and out herself for being obsessive. but you don't add anything new about the party, instead, you tell her you had been texting for just a few days now. he has your number. yuck.

"you've been texting and you didn't tell me?" she can feel the tension in the room now, the same room that was previously occupied by nothing but warmth and comfort. she's trying to backtrack now, putting away the face of slight disgust she had put up and replacing it with a smile of disbelief at an attempt at making you feel less guilty. she knows why you wouldn't tell her right away, this isn't the first time she's reacted to this kind of thing negatively. this is not a habit she wants you to form, so she needs to do some damage control. to make you feel comfortable with talking about your love life again. how is she supposed to protect you from these greaseballs if she doesn't know you're speaking to them in the first place?

so she brings back the playfulness that was there before. she's playing with your hand again to put you at ease, so that you hopefully start rambling about him, and luckily you do.

he approached you at the party and you found him funny so you exchanged numbers. you've been texting back and forth for the past 4 days. you think he's cute and charming. he asked you out 2 days ago, and your schedules only allowed for the date to happen on sunday. you're really looking forward to it. how unfortunate.

"isn't it a bit early? i don't really trust him." you let out a chuckle at that, "i could count the amount of people you trust in one hand." touché. "i'm just looking out for you." you sigh. "i know, but you don't have to. i can handle it." she raises an eyebrow at that, and you know exactly what she's about to say. "don't forget who was left picking up the pieces every time you got stood up. I don't mean to be a dick by bringing it up but i'm the one who's left having to take care of you, and i hate seeing you cry over the same breed of asshole over and over again." there's another beat of silence.

shes right of course, so you can't really come up with another rebuttal. "you know where to go if something happens," and you do. every last date you've gone to ended with you spending the night at her place, the one place you feel comfortable going to for anything, with puffy eyes, a box of tissues and a big headache. the conversation ends here.

it's silent again, and all you can hear is the music playing and the air conditioner whirring. it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, you've turned to your side and jasmine continues to play with your back until she hears the telltale sign of light snoring. she can't join you just yet, not until she's done with her research.

not until she knows his schedule and has a plan laid out. the guilt of being the sole reason you keep getting stood up does eat at her at times like these, because she knows it makes you insecure. what else are you supposed to think? but it's okay, because at the end of the day it's always her you come back to, and she's pretty damn good at bringing your confidence back up if she does say so herself. it's her you seek out for comfort, and if she can't have you for herself, she'll do anything to keep it that way.

[soullessjack]

i know ive vaguely mentioned that jack is putting on his own kind of personality-performance in the same way Dean is but something else I microwave in my head a lot is how he specifically plays it up with cas and performs in a similar way. they’re like two bodysnatchers pretending they’re humans and performing traditions that they think will help them blend in (like Cas calling Jack ‘slugger’ in the tombstone script draft)

I think another aspect of Jacks character that is often forgotten is that he also isn’t entirely human, and that coupled with the general infantilization he gets from the fandom means nobody is really looking very deeply into his behavior or recognizing it as a performance—specifically one that’s rooted in his need to be seen as acceptable and “Good,” and contributes so much to the sensitivity and defensiveness he’s shown to have towards his perceived place in TFW and the Winchester family.

everyone thinks it’s cute and charming that he wanted to match ties with Cas and supposedly has a talking teddy bear toy in 15x11 (the both of which can be seen as part of traditional nuclear family roles just like Cas calling him ‘slugger,’) but when that same episode ends with jack ruefully admitting to cas that he’s going to kill himself as part of Billie’s plan and as a way to atone for the damage he caused, you really have to question the sincerity of his behavior—especially since it’s not even the first time he’s used cutesy charming behavior to essentially manage everyone’s mood and emotions to keep being perceived the way he wants to be perceived at the face value he’s created for himself (unabashedly lying to Sam and Dean about anything happening while he was out with a big smile and an “I promise,” in 14x16, and doing the same thing to Mary in the beginning of 14x17).

another thing is that if jack does feel like he can be himself and also be accepted or even praised for it, like he was in apocalypse world with Mary and the refugees that saw him as a hero, he gets immediately defensive whenever something about his [genuine] self or his capability is questioned; he gets upset at Mary for not thinking that he can beat Michael alone and blows up at Cas for thinking he’s too weak to do anything by himself as a human being, and in both of these instances he switches tones a lot between a very deadpan and blunt when he’s essentially unmasking, vs a soft one when he’s trying to be reassuring and acceptable.

it adds a lot to his identity crisis in the beginning of s14 and especially to his soulless arc, when he’s basically desperate to get back into the traditional Good Son role he’s gotten even though his own subconscious outright mocks him for it and calls him pathetic for even wanting to be that person again

*which jack also becomes increasingly defensive and blatantly aggressive about.

im losing the plot because of my stomach hurting so TLDR jack is basically a bodysnatchers playing house the same way Castiel is amen godbless peace be with you all

[silveryclear]

STNAF Coraline AU

MDNI ALL CONTENT REGARDING STNAF IS 18+ AND SO IS THIS BLOG

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Pairings: Normal Friend/ GN Reader | Other Friend/ GN Reader | Carter/GN Reader

CW: NSFW, manipulation, kidnapping, torture, sexual content, obsessive behavior

A/N: Yes, this is what I’ve been working on for the whole month of October. This is my first long fic and I’ll be posting the chapters daily. I hope y’all enjoy! Happy Halloween!

Around 4-5 chapters, three different endings (for each love interest)

Friend, Carter, Scrim belongs to @stnaf-vn

Art belongs to me

Chapter 1

“So… what do you think?”

Your best friend asks as he looks at you with excitement. You look up at the looming old manor in front of you, trying to find the right words to match his enthusiasm. However, you end up blurting out the first thing that pops into your head. “Pink. Very pink.”

He snorts in amusement. “Is that all?”

“Old.” You add.

Friend rolls his eyes playfully and moves behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Those are some amazing observation skills! Would our resident caveman like to tell us anything else?” He teases.

You laugh, feeling some of your initial uneasiness slowly reaching wash away with Friend’s humor. “Hungry.” You exclaim.

Friend smiles and you feel him gently push you into the large manor. “Then let us get settled in and we’ll order some pizza, my sweet Neanderthal~”

You let yourself get pushed into the manor whilst you do your best to keep your emotions in check, feeling your face heat up. The sweet tone he uses with you along with his soft touch and penchant for nicknames leave your heart beating in the tune of a bittersweet melody.

Friend goes to a lot of trips for his clothing line and sometimes you tag along. For a lot of the time, this is the only way you get to spend any time with your super busy friend. You put up with the long hours of traveling, jet lag and uncomfortable situations because not only is he your best friend since childhood, but you’re also very in love with him and have no way of telling him how you feel. Recently, though, it feels as if the gap between your two worlds has gotten bigger and you have no way of knowing how to close it. It seems like the more you try, the farther he slips from your grasp.

This time, you stay at an old manor called “The Pink Palace”, fairly near the city, but still hidden enough to feel like you have privacy. Friend was always a sucker for old fashioned houses and architecture so this was a way for him to keep his love alive while also doing his job.

You are currently sitting in a classy living room adorned by vintage decor with your best friend by your side, ready to watch a movie on the flat screen TV that looks very out of place.

You manage to take a peek of your best friend beside you and you begin to feel butterflies in your stomach. Moments like this when the two of you are alone are the ones you treasure the most. You feel as if you are the center of his world, with no distractions from his job and the modern world to come between the two of you. You hoped this would be the best time to admit your feelings for your best friend, but every time you tried, you’d get a wave of anxiety and mental images of your best friend rejecting you, making this trip awkward.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes, effectively snapping you out of your inner turmoil.

Carter: I could sense you chickening out from a mile away.

You roll your eyes at your college friend’s ability to know exactly what you are doing. How does he do that??

You: I’m just waiting for the right moment, okay?

Carter: No, you’re waiting for the last possible moment and torturing yourself. Drag this out, and you’ll be the “best man” on his wedding day.

You: …

The thought made your stomach churn and you write back quick.

You: It won’t come to that! I swear I’m telling him this time. No take backs.

Carter: Good. You can do this. 👍

You chuckle.

You: Thanks, Carter. I’ll let you know how it goes.

The movie keeps playing as you work up the courage to finally tell him how you feel. You take a deep breath and open your mouth… and his work phone rings. You sigh. Another confession thwarted.

Friend looks at you apologetically. “I’m sorry I’m doing this during movie night. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I’m done with work, okay?” He kisses the top of your head and leaves in a flash, right before you barely have time to register your own fluster.

You sigh. Alone again. You don’t want to get in between him and his work, but it feels like it gets in between the only time the two of you get together. Even now, the reason you both are staying in this palace is because of work. You don’t mean to be ungrateful, but when will you be a priority?

A bolt of lightning strikes near and shakes the manor slightly, making you jump. Rain starts to pour in buckets and you chuckle dryly as you think that even the universe knows what you’re going through.

“This sucks.” You mutter, before getting on your feet and walking around the palace, exploring the multiple rooms available. You try to push your feelings for Friend and your thoughts of loneliness away while you observe your surroundings, taking in the grand building in which you’re currently staying in.

This place would almost seem isolating and scary to you if it wasn’t for the fact that it was very… pink. Or at the very least, tried to include the color in every place that it could. No wonder Friend loved this place so much.

“I wonder if something like this is where he’d like to settle down and have a family.” You blush and shake your head.

You’re getting too ahead of yourself… you haven’t even confessed!

Not paying attention, you walk into a room that looks different from the rest of the house. For one, it doesn’t have an ounce of pink. And the color motif are the primary colors, along with the color black. It sounds strange, but in person, it actually looks cohesive. A jar of buttons sat on the dresser along with many sewing materials. The room seemed to reflect this craft as you noticed that buttons where everywhere around you. Your attention is quickly robbed by the most adorable bunny plushie you have ever seen! It has cute little button eyes and it’s so soft and fluffy to the touch, you can’t help but squeeze and nuzzle into it.

You giggle softly, feeling much better now than you were before. You decide to take the plushie just during this trip since you’re the only person in the palace. No one else will miss it.

You go back to the living room to finish the movie by yourself along with your little plushie. And maybe a bottle of vodka you found in the back of a cupboard. The two of you watch the movie while you drink who knows how much, before you feel yourself begin to drift off.

A loud clap of thunder wakes you up suddenly. Lifting your head off the couch and wiping away some of the drool on your chin, you groan and massage your temples gently, doing your best to ward off the hangover that is slowly creeping up to you. You notice the credits of the movie are playing so you grab the remote and turn it off. You had fallen asleep in the middle of it. You begin to snuggle back into the couch again only to realize your little fluffy friend is missing. You look everywhere around you but it’s nowhere to be found. Strange.

You go back into the strange room and you find the rabbit sticking out from underneath the bed. You must’ve imagined you took it with you and you actually dropped it. When you go to pick it up, you notice something weird on the other wall as you peek from under the bed. You stand up again and walk towards the wall where the wallpaper protruded in some areas, almost as if it was covering up something.

You take some scissors from the desk and you crouch down to cut along the dented areas of the wallpaper. You scoot back and look at what it’s revealed.

A tiny door. Just big enough for you to fit through. You try to pry it open but it’s locked. You rummage through the key drawer that Friend had showed You previously and one caught your eye. A black key with the shape of a button.

And with one flick of your wrist, the door is opened.

You debate whether you should go in alone in the middle of the night, but you’re too curious (and drunk) to ignore this great discovery.

“I hope I don’t find a rat’s nest at the end of this…”

You crawl through the surprisingly clean tunnel, lighting the way with your phone flashlight.

You reach the end and open the door to the other side to find…

The exact same room.

“What the hell? How did I end up in the same place?” You say out loud.

Suddenly, you noticed sounds coming from downstairs. You reach for the bunny plushie and the scissors and take them with you as you slowly stalk down the stairs.

You hear the muffled sounds of people talking and sound effects in the background and you figure the TV must be on. But you distinctly remember turning it off after the movie had ended…

You clutch the scissors tighter.

You walk into the living room, the lights and TV turned on, playing an old western movie. But you barely pay any attention to it as your gaze zeroes on the figure sitting on the couch, eating popcorn. You take a step forward, but to your luck, the wooden floor panel creaks oh so loudly.

The figure stiffens, most likely aware of your presence and you gulp, raising the scissors to attack the intruder. The figure cautiously turns around and every inch of hair on your body stands up.

Once he faces you, you freeze in shock. Is that..?

“Hey sweetheart~ I was just watching this while I waited for you. Ready for movie night~?” Friend smiles sweetly at you.

However, this Friend is dressed very differently from the one you’ve known your whole life. Also, he is blonde? And it looks good on him?? You curse his ability to look good in anything. But the thing that actually made you stop in your tracks and made your skin crawl were his eyes. Gone were the eyes full of life and wonder that often sucked you in when you gazed into them. In their place stood black buttons just like the ones on the plushie you’re clutching. They were piercing and unsettling to stare at. If it weren’t for the fact that the figure was moving and breathing right now, you’d most likely think he was a model made after your best friend. With some changes of course.

Your silence made this “Friend” tilt his head to the side and look at you with concern, or you figured it was. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I have no idea what I’m looking at right now…” You murmur, gaze unwavering from this doppelgänger.

“Friend” chuckles in amusement and grins at you. “I’m Friend, silly! You know, your best friend since forever?”

You raise an eyebrow, keeping the scissors clutched tightly in your hand. “I don’t know exactly what you’re playing at, but you are not Friend. Friend is not blonde, he doesn’t own clothes like yours and he definitely doesn’t have buttons for eyes.”

This so-called “Friend” grins wider, unsettling so, but quickly disappears into a charming expression. “What, can’t a person try out a new look without their best friend threatening them with a pair of scissors?” He teases.

You give him a deadpan stare.

He coughs. “What I mean to say is…” He stands up and walks around the couch, approaching you casually. You can only stare in slight fear into his soulless eyes as each step brings him closer to you. He stands in front of you and gives you a reassuring smile. “I’m your Other Friend!”

“My Other Friend? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like! I’m your friend from another world. A world filled with wonder where everyone has buttons for eyes!” He says with bright smile and a glint in his button eyes. His voice sounding like a cheery animated character.

You blink. “Oh man, I must’ve drunk more than I thought…”

He laughs in amusement. “Maybe so… but why not try to enjoy this while you can? I’ve got popcorn and your favorite snacks. Aaaand we can watch any movie you want~” He sweetens the deal.

You raise your eyebrow, intrigued. “Is the popcorn extra butter?”

His grin widens. “Of course! What kind of best friend would I be if it wasn’t?”

You narrow your eyes and give him a firm nod. Before he could even attempt to come closer you point a finger at him, your expression full of suspicion. “I’m staying because I’m not fully convinced this isn’t a dream—“ You let out a loud hiccup. “…And I’m too drunk to walk back up the stairs.”

Other Friend giggles. “I understand.”

“I’m keeping the scissors, so don’t try anything funny!” You exclaim, sluggishly making your way towards the couch, slumping down on it.

“Wouldn’t dream of it~” He chuckles before sitting on the couch next to you.

While watching the movie in your drunken haze, you fail to notice your Other Friend’s grin grow possessive as you clutch the plushie he had made just for your arrival~

Chapter 2

[awearywritersworld]

A misunderstanding makes you feel insecure.

Haikyu x Reader w/c: 1.4k // 1.1k warnings: just a lil angst, but fluffy endings. a/n: back on my haikyu bullshit bc life is tough rn and i needed something pure and wholesome. post!timeskip, hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader characters: Tsukishima Kei // Kuroo Tetsuro

masterlist

Tsukishima Kei

When Tsukishima first met you in university, he had taken notice of you, though you didn’t really start talking until you were paired for a research assignment. While he was just a tad nervous when you invited him to your apartment to work on it, he didn’t mind as you lived nearby.

An observant person, Tsukishima soon took note of your little quirks, many of which he silently regards as endearing. Your eyes would widen, sparkling with interest as you stumbled upon new articles and discoveries during your research. You always brewed a fresh pot of tea and grabbed something extra at the bakery when you knew he was coming over.

When he told you he plays volleyball for the Sendai Frogs, he was taken aback by how interested you seemed. He informed you about his position and that he started playing because of his older brother. Pink dusted his cheeks when you asked if you could attend his next match, which he agreed to. During the match, a few of his teammates gave him nudges and sly smirks. "You just seem really into the game today, Tsukishima-kun."

Your friendship persisted even after your project had been turned in, and while Tsukki was surprised, he also found that he was relieved. He enjoyed your company, after all. The thought of parting ways with you made his heart skip a beat like some lovesick teenager.

Toward the end of the semester, you're approaching the lecture hall you share with Tsukishima when you spot him talking to one of your classmates, a girl. The sight makes your stomach flip and you freeze, watching their interaction from afar.

"I just wanted to give you this, Tsukishima-kun," she begins nervously, handing him a box of sweets wrapped in pink paper.

"Oh, thanks." His tone is unexpressive as ever.

"You play volleyball, right? Maybe I could come to watch you sometime!"

She's barely finished speaking before he responds, "sorry, but I don't really like having people come to my games. You know, focus and all..."

He trails off and she tries her best to recover. "O-Okay! No problem! I'll see you around."

She scurries away and you can just barely hear him grumble something about annoying admirers and wanting to be left alone. You realize you stopped breathing at some point and all you can think while you harshly exhale is 'oh, god.'

Over the past few months, you had certainly developed a crush on Tsukishima. You feel awful about having gone to quite a few of his games when, evidently, he must have found it irritating. You're staring into nothing with wide eyes when you hear your name being called.

Your head snaps in the direction it came from and your gaze meets Tsukishima's as he approaches you. He greets you as he usually does and you stutter out a reply. Walking into the classroom together, he's squinting at you out of the corner of his eye. It's clear to him that something is up.

"You okay?" he asks as you both slide into your usual seat beside one another.

"Of course!"

That's how the next few days pass--- he knows something is wrong and you pretend that everything is fine. You're quieter than usual and you haven't invited him to hang out at all. Since you're typically the one to take initiative, Tsukishima is left feeling a little lost.

When you don't come to his next game, he finally decides he's going to have to figure out how to resolve whatever is going on. It's already dark outside by the time the team finishes, but he still heads in the direction of your apartment.

With each step, he wracks his mind trying to figure out what the hell he's even going to even say. Did he do something wrong? Have you grown tired of him and his cynicism?

Standing in front of your apartment door, it occurs to him that you might not even be home. He knocks apprehensively and the door swings open a few moments later.

"Tsukki!" you squeak out.

You're in your pajamas, a sight he's never seen before, and it makes his mind go blank. He tries desperately to keep his eyes from trailing down to your thin top and flannel shorts.

"Can I come in?" he finally asks.

"S-sure!" you step aside. "I'll go get some tea started."

He can't help but smile as you hurry off, thinking you might be the cutest person he's ever met. Instead of making his way to the couch, he leans against the doorframe to the kitchen. "Do you need a hand?"

"That's alright, it'll just be a few minutes," you say, reaching up to a high shelf for a tin of tea leaves.

He's behind you in an instant, his body pressed to your back as he grabs the one he knows is your favorite. "This one, right?"

"Yeah, thanks!"

Shocked your voice doesn't betray you, your heart is now hammering in your chest with impossible force. He's still close behind you as he sets it down on the counter. Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he takes a step back.

Once you finish filling the kettle, he speaks up. "Is it okay if I ask you something?"

Setting it down on the stove and turning on the burner, you turn to give him your full attention. "Always."

The way you look up at him expectantly makes him swallow and clear his throat. "I was wondering if everything is okay?"

"What do you mean, Tsukki?"

"Um, you just haven't seemed like yourself the past few days."

He hopes his vague answer is enough, but you tilt your head to the side. "How so?"

If he didn't know any better, he'd think you were trying to torture him.

"Well, you've been less talkative," he nearly winces at how pitiful he sounds. "And then when you didn't come to my game tonight..."

He can't think of what else to say, cursing the way his cheeks heat up. You hardly notice though, too caught up in your own embarrassment and avoiding his eye.

"Oh, that!" you laugh nervously. "You see, I may have... overheard you talking to our one classmates the other day..."

The look on his face tells you he has no idea what you're referring to.

"She gave you a gift a-and asked to come to see you play, but you told her you didn't like when people came to your games." You're talking very quickly by this point. "I-I didn't want to annoy you-"

Tsukishima's eyes nearly pop out of his head in disbelief and he starts to laugh at the situation, but you think he's laughing at you. At first, he fails to notice that tears have begun to slip down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry Tsukki," you apologize, lip quivering.

That gets his attention right away, a look of horror taking over his features.

"No, no, no! I wasn't- I didn't mean to laugh!" His words are jumbled and he tries his best to slow them. "It's just that you're not people, you're... you."

"Oh," you say while wiping at your eyes, not quite yet processing the meaning behind his words.

You still seem so sad and it tugs at Tsukishima's chest, making him panic.

"I like you!" he blurts out and your watery eyes dart up toward his face. "I'm sorry, I thought I was more obvious about it than I was. I-I missed seeing you in the stands tonight and talking to you in class and coming over afterward and-"

He keeps rambling on and you think it might be the longest you'd ever heard the usually very matter-of-fact man speak for. He only stops when you start to giggle, your hand covering your mouth in an attempt to hide it.

The kettle suddenly whistles, breaking any sort of tension that might have lingered between the two of you. You swiftly remove it from the heat before turning back to him.

"I like you, too, Tsukki."

He breathes a sigh of relief, eyes flicking between each of your own. His honesty just moments ago has him surprised and while he'd usually be uncomfortable in a situation like this, oddly enough, he's not.

There's a ghost of a smile adorning his face and he spends a second just looking at you. 'You're... you,' he considers his words from earlier and knows that this is what he meant. You're different from most people. You make him feel at ease.

"You should call me Kei," he states simply, before moving to prepare the tea just the way he knows you like it.

Kuroo Tetsuro

One afternoon, Kuroo stopped by the coffee shop across from his office building downtown. Pulling the door open, he caught the reflection of a person around his age in the glass. As he moved so that he could hold it open for you, you thanked him with a small smile.

You caught his attention, dressed for some seemingly important job, your hair just a touch messy, but in a way that looked good. While you waited in line, he asked you about your day and his charming small talk left you a blushing mess.

You were in front of him in line, but once you finished telling the barista what you wanted, he stepped up to add his own drink to the order. "On me, of course."

Two years later, you're living together in a cozy apartment and you couldn't be happier. Kuroo is everything you could ever ask for--- charismatic, reliable, thoughtful. It was even his idea that the two of you go out for dinner after work every Thursday.

So when that day of the week finally rolls around, you finish your tasks for the day and head over to his nearby office to meet up. You get off the elevator on his floor and make your way down the hallway, noticing his door is open a few inches. You stop once you hear voices inside.

“Isn’t it hard having a partner, though? I mean, always having someone around, not being able to relax and do your own thing.”

The voice is unfamiliar and your head tilts to the side as you listen.

Your boyfriend chuckles, hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “I suppose they can be a lot sometimes.” 

Inwardly, Kuroo reflects on your late-night bouts of energy when he’s half asleep, your ramblings about the newest show you’ve been watching (he truly does try his hardest to keep up), your habit of constantly asking him for reassurance even though you’re so far out of his league it’s unreal. 

You can’t see the fond smile that bashfully plays on his lips or hear the thoughts running through his mind. Left with just his words alone, you deflate as you’re overcome by embarrassment. 'Well, he's not wrong,' you think.

“Then what’s the point?” the other person wonders.

You can’t bear to hear Kuroo's answer, so you move away from the door and attempt to swallow the lump in your throat. The fact that you’re about to burst into tears at his work, of all places, is probably why he thinks the way he does. A humorless laugh passes your lips as you berate yourself. You dip into the bathroom and force yourself to take a few deep breaths before anyone can see you.

If only you had waited a few moments longer, you would have heard Kuroo's response. "I figured out pretty quickly they could be a handful sometimes, but it's part of what made me love them, you know?"

"No, gross. Don't go all sappy on me, senpai," the young intern rolls his eyes.

It just makes Kuroo laugh, "you asked! Now get out of my office and go tell them you'd love to get dinner with them tonight."

The intern grumbles as he leaves, but Kuroo doesn't miss the grin tugging at his lips. "After you finish your work for the day, of course," the older man hollers from his seat.

Finally having composed yourself, you exit the bathroom, passing the intern and greeting him politely.

You knock once you reach the door to Kuroo's office and his eyes light up, "hey, sweetheart!"

His tie has already been loosened for the evening and his hair is a bit disheveled.

"Hey, Tetsu," you say sheepishly. Even now, he still makes your stomach flutter.

"I just need a few minutes to finish this up," he informs.

"Sure, take your time!"

You try your best to make your voice sound bright and move to take a seat on the couch that's tucked against the wall. Kuroo returns his attention to the computer, but he quickly realizes you're quiet. Weirdly quiet. He peeks over at you and you're just sitting there on your phone with a blank expression.

The soft clicking of his keyboard stops. He says your name and you hum in acknowledgment. "What's on your mind?"

You glance over to find that he's looking at you, his body leaning over his desk in your direction. The expression he wears is a gentle one. His obvious concern and the fact he's already picked up on your vexation are enough to arouse the emotions you'd hopelessly tried to bury earlier. In an attempt to hide your tears, you avert your eyes. The action immediately has Kuroo rising from his seat.

"Hey, hey, hey," he frets, sitting beside you and putting a hand on your knee. "Look at me, what happened?"

The sight of you like this makes his heart squeeze tightly in his chest and when you finally turn to him, his eyes are burning with worry.

"It's nothing, it's dumb," you dismiss, waving your hand.

"Sweetheart, don't say that. Something's got you all worked up." He brushes your hair behind your ear. "Talk to me."

"I-I'm sorry" you choke out.

"There's no reason to be-"

"I know I can be a lot sometimes," you add, wiping at your nose with your sleeve.

Realization and guilt descend upon him in tandem. "You heard-"

"Only some of it!" you clarify before he finishes, "I-I didn't mean to listen in on you, I just-"

He boops your nose, making your words stop in your throat. "You just didn't stay and listen to the part where I told him you it's what makes me love you so much."

He's got a little grin on his face, refraining (with some difficulty) from calling you a dork.

"You said that?"

He hums, "of course I did."

A moment passes and he can sense you're still feeling unsure of yourself, so he continues. "I can be passive and a bit... emotionally closed off at times. It makes me admire how expressive you are and how strongly you react to things, both good and bad."

Touched by his words, you feel all your anxiety ebb away, replaced by a warm feeling in the center of your chest. "Then you'll be happy to know that is perhaps the sweetest thing anyone has ever said and it makes my heart want to explode."

"Ah, see! There it is!" he beams and stands up, offering you his hand.

Once you rise to your feet, he places a kiss firmly on your temple.

"Alright, the rest of this can wait," he decides as he grabs his bag, turns off his computer, and slips his fingers through your own. "I'm all yours."

[roomsofangel]

IN THE ABSENCE OF EVERYTHING, I PROMISE TO KEEP YOU WARM . . jeong yunho

“you’ve ruined me for anyone else, i don’t think i could ever stop loving you even if i wanted to.”

pairing idol!yunho x fem!reader

one sided dislike/hatred. sunshine x grumpy. could be seen as an enemies to lovers but it’s all one sided on y/n’s end and she just doesn’t like him in the beginning while yunho is completely oblivious, but still matches her energy.

genre angst, fluff, smut, fic.

synopsis ateez are on a much needed break after their recent comeback — traveling overseas for a short-term vacation, yunho desires nothing more than just to ease himself and let go of worries.

but with a run in with someone he deems an angel in human skin, yunho learns she doesn’t know who he is and pretends to be someone else.

filled with secrets and a burning romance, yunho learns that no matter what you do or how hard you try, life just isn’t fair.

and he only had himself to blame.

warnings mature themes, mainly due to language. a lot of dishonesty. hurt without comfort if i’m being honest. nsfw later on. arguments and miscommunication. reader and yunho don’t have a good first impression at all, and they both don’t use the most nicest words at first. a lot of talk of mental health, exhaustion, and being overworked.

notes this is told in past tense, yunho’s pov. think of it as you are listening to him tell the story after it all ended, only knowing his side. this was also going to be a one shot, but i instead have changed my mind and went with original idea when first planning this, and this will be a fic.

a/n this is a repost! so if it sounds familiar i originally posted this with my old blog mothworked!

status ongoing

started 05/06/23

completed n/a

reblogs & comments are very appreciated and also help out a lot! thank you for reading and giving my work a chance ^_^

. . . # chapters !

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | to be continued. .

PREVIEW BELOW. . !

yunho hasn’t been happy in a while.

he doesn’t know when or where this sudden realization came into place, nor does he know when the feeling of numbness even decided to pop in for a chat as if it was a distant relative who came over for the holidays and refused to be put to bed.

he just knows he hasn’t been the same person after their comeback — assuming that he was only overworked, this will cease.

it didn’t.

his hands shoved his clothes into the oversized suitcase, hearing the zipper tug and close his belongings all tightly knit together, yunho let out a huff of air, allowing himself to pause for a minute, take in everything while staring blank at the pompompurin keychain he had setting on his nightstand with the mental reminder to hook it onto his bag to match with mingi — “will this actually do anything?” he voiced outloud, grumbling before pulling and rolling the suitcase off his bed and down the hall, “i’m here.”

the first person to lift their heads towards him was hongjoong who smiled in response, eyes showing he was just as exhausted and eager for this break, “does anyone know where we’ll be going?” he asked

“california — not so bad, huh?” seonghwa acknowledged, a light tone to ease the tension created from just the lack of care to their needs that begun to radiate off of then in their tones and actions

and yunho wanted to believe him, he really did.

but the feeling in his chest was yelling at him otherwise.

“san’s birthday is coming up,” yeosang mentioned one night while he and yunho unpacked, the two sharing a room together after losing a game of rock paper scissors

yunho could recall the shade the walls were painted, green lily. mingi was the one who mentioned the color by name and it had made them all erupt in fits of giggles on how — and why, he knew something like that but thanked him nonetheless, san announcing the dorms should be painted the same shade before getting a pillow aimed towards his head by a sleepy jongho

and now, yunho was scurrying around downtown LA, attempting to find a good present for his friend. why was gift shopping so hard? would san even like it? no, scratch that, san loved anything given to him — he was just a big ball of sunshine.

it was yunho who wouldn’t deem it good enough.

maybe coffee would help, yeah, that would. just something to distract his neverending nerves so he can think better. he should’ve asked seonghwa, he thought to himself.

the sky was clear, the sun being bright and reflecting on his freshly dyed scalp, it was his mind that was clouded and unable to steer in one set direction — not fully processing where he was going, only aware he was aiming towards that coffee shop he noticed. oh, if he knew then, he would’ve turned around.

colliding with a body, soft gasps and cold drink being spilled on his warm skin, “fuck,” he cursed out loud at the sudden temperature and new situation

and that’s when his eyes met yours.

but with the way his day and emotions had been, he didn’t intend for his next words to be come off so harsh, “i’m sorry”

you looked at him with an annoyed expression, brows knitted tightly together, “just watch where you’re going now i have to deal with a day without my drink.”

scoffing, yunho shook his head, “i wouldn’t be talking if i were you, you basically were fucking naurto running into my chest,”

you let out a huff, “naurto running?!” running your fingers through your hair, you shook your head, “if i wasn’t so mad, i would have laughed.”

“i can get you another one,” yunho tried to compromise, not wanting a feud with a stranger over a drink

plus, he wasn’t sure if you knew he was an idol and if you did, he didn’t have any desire to end up on an article, his thoughts broken by your scoff

“no fuck you, i wanted that one,” you folded your arms over your chest, eyes darting to the floor before you started getting napkins to clean up, yunho unaware of why he followed behind

“are you this uptight all the time?” yunho blurted, earning his chest to hit your back before you turned with raised brows

“only to dumbasses who make me spill my drink.”

“touché.”

he finally convinced you to let him get you another drink, taking a seat by you while the straw was between your lips and your fingertips tapped the cold plastic cup that had water droplets decorating, “you can leave now,” you said

“don’t flatter yourself, i ordered something too,” yunho shook his head

you sneered, “your presence just annoys me.”

yunho leaned forward, propping himself up with his elbows as he looked at you with a mocking grin to tease you more, “is that any way to talk to me after i got you another tea, which may i add, at a coffee shop?” he paused, looking at you taking a bite of your cake pop, “plus that cake pop.”

“yeah.” you shrugged

yunho ordered hot chocolate, his intentions were to get an iced americano but with the day he was having, his taste changed for today, his hands holding the warm wrapped brownie he hoped to enjoy if not giving it to san later

you teased him about it which was fair, he did so about your tea.

“what’s your name?” he asked

met with silence.

“hello, are you deaf?” he titled his head in response, you looking at him with a teasing grin

“for you, yeah.”

ignoring what you had said, yunho straightened his posture, “i’m yunho and you are?”

and yet again, met with your silence

“you’re making this really herd,” he huffed

“that’s the goal.” you replied

yunho didn’t know how much longer the two of you sat in silence, eating and drinking before you began getting up to clean your area, he remembered how the strands of your hair fell in front of your face and you harshly moved them aside in annoyance, jaw clenched while you got your bag that he didn’t realize you had with you — eyed landing on a specific dangling keychain that resembled the one he had connected, before he could make a comment about coincidences, you spoke

“y/n.”

“huh?” he questioned

you dusted yourself off and laughed, “my name is y/n, you asswipe.”

that was the first time he met you

and sometimes he wished he would’ve left you alone after that

maybe the two of you would have been better

maybe you wouldn’t hate him this much

and maybe he could’ve done things differently if he had another chance

but you won’t give him one

and he knows he doesn’t deserve it after what he did.

it was almost fate.

the situation and timing could come off as such — at least, yunho wanted to believe the two of you were starcrossed lovers destined to get it right either in this life or the next one.

he didn’t expect to see you there, polished and composed, the opposite of who he met the day prior. you radiated something that he knew he wouldn’t be able to get enough of.

and he couldn’t.

even now, he found himself drowning in your memory and wanting to be swept under permanently — it nearly sounds as if he was praying for a fatal outcome, but he did not want to die. he just wanted his heart back.

the same one that still stayed in your hands while yours was forcibly removed from his

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Action AUs (Giveaway Winner Post)

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

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hi @onboardsorasora thank you SO MUCH for your request, and congratulations again for winning the giveaway ❤️ we are so sorry that this took such a long time to get to you... unfortunately the mod team have been rather busy with all sorts of things: wedding planning and driving lessons and travelling abroad and writing copious amounts of smut. we hope this was worth the wait ❤️

Daniel/Max

nsfw: I struck a match and blew your mind by @33max | Not Rated | 4.1k

Max is a getaway driver and starts to work with Daniel on jobs. I loved the pacing of this fic. There's so much detail and progress within this and the author really did a great job of picking which parts to highlight for the plot progression. I loved Max's commitment to Daniel.

“I am, I promise. I think it’s just a broken rib or two.” Daniel says, and his hand comes up to squeeze Max’s shoulder from the backseat. There is blood on his knuckles. “C’mon Maxy, be a good boy and get us out of here.” So Max does. He gets them out of there, but he feels sick. Not because they almost got caught, but because he knows that if Daniel really had needed to go to the hospital he would not have been able to leave him there. He would have let them both get caught over leaving Daniel alone and hurt on a hospital doorstep.

nsfw: strangers by bloodmoonforme | E | 37.9k

Daniel, a detective, is on a not-quite-dead-end murder case when they bring in Max from out of state to help him solve it. They have history and havent seen each other in four years. I loved the tone in this so much. The author has a very coherent narrative that build just right, its really intriguing. I also love how the reader almost solves the case too. Not only the murder case, but the /what happened to Max and Daniel/ case that gets revealed throughout. Its a truly well written fic with a lot of action and feelings!

He gets up, his stomach feeling heavier and colder by the second. There's something creeping all the way from his fingers, up his arms and to his belly, a prickly sick thing. Then he looks towards the center of the room, marked by a well-worn rug. Daniel stands there, alone in Esther’s bedroom, standing in the half-light. He's there, and suddenly he’s not.

nsfw: Bite Down and Taste Red by @mysticalbreadcollective | E | 46.5k

Max works in a bar, and Daniel is the Mafia Boss who keeps buying drinks. This story is absolutely captivating - from beginning to end, it is so beautifully written and paced, with just enough angst to make things truly delicious. Daniel is so much fun here - hot and charismatic and so very head over heels for his bartender!

He finds out that Max speaks several languages, and he’s from a place called Hasselt, which means absolutely nothing to Daniel. He’d looked it up later, on the map on his phone, squinting at it. Compared with the US, its miniscule. He can’t imagine Max being born in a place so small. When Max is so – much.

Carlos/Lando & Daniel/Max

i'll race you for pinks by @chubbydinosaur | M | 30k

Lando is brought on to a heist by professional criminal, Carlos. Sparks fly. This story is such a fun ride - as always, this author perfectly balances humour, emotion, and high stakes action, and it makes for a thrilling read. Lando is so disarmingly charming in this - I adored him!

Daniel/Lando

til the bone crush by @clementiaes | T | 19k

Pacific Rim is perfect for Formula 1 AUs, and this is one of my favourite examples. Daniel and Lando are paired as Jaeger pilots. Both are coming off of other drift partners with baggage - Daniel from Max after Max’s career ending injury, and Lando from something that could have been a relationship with Carlos, had Lando’s insecurities not buried it before it started. Lando is prickly, closed-off and miserable at the start of this story, convinced he is unlovable. This story is about him gently and gradually being opened up to the realisation that people love him, and that he deserves to be loved.

The point is, no one is getting tired of you any time soon,” Daniel says. “Seriously, who even told you that?” Lando looks down at his hands, picking at a hangnail. “No one. I just — I know I’m not easy to get along with.” Daniel frowns. “You deserve to be happy,” he says, finally. “You know that, right?” Lando looks down at his knees. “Look at me, Lando,” Daniel says, but Lando doesn’t. His shoulders are starting to creep back up near his ears again. Daniel’s moving before he quite knows what he’s doing. He gets one hand on Lando’s shoulder and one on his chin, turning his face so that he’ll look at him. Lando sucks in a sharp breath, eyes wide, but to Daniel’s surprise, he doesn’t pull away. “I don’t know how you got it into your head that you’re like, unlovable, or something, but it’s not true,” Daniel says. “Really. You think you can believe that for me?”

Charles/Sebastian

He Is All, And He Is More by @effervescentdragon | M | 15k

In this AU of The Old Guard, Sebastian and Charles are immortals that meet on the battlefield during the Crusades. They kill one another over and over, until they reach a tentative understanding. Their relationship deepens over the centuries. It can be difficult to write characters as ancient and make them feel ancient, and Akira really does. I love the tentative way they negotiate one another, and the understanding they gradually come to. Battlefield enemies to lovers is quite the relationship arc.

"And if we only met a thousand of years from now, you would still be wearing red.” “Why?” Sebastian shrugs, a grin evident in the dark. “Your red string dictates it. Fate, or something. Destiny. Red suits you. You look good in red.” Charles bites his tongue. “So do you.”

Lewis/Nico/Sebastian

on golden sands by sionisjaune | T | 6.2k

Lewis Hamilton is planning the heist of the century and he wants Sebastian Vettel on his team. The target - Baron Nico Rosbergs car collection. Sounds simple on paper but reality never is. Oceans Eleven heist!au. Who doesnt love a good heist!au? This author writes some of my favourite sebcedes, the characterisations are spot on and the vibes are at turns wholesome and rancid. Perfection in a fic!

Rosberg greets Seb at the gate, behind the windshield of a pale blue Bentley. The paint job sparkles in the golden sunlight, and the hood ornament gleams chrome. The gates roll open at his whim with an ear-splitting, metallic sound. Rosberg beckons animatedly from behind the wheel, and Seb gets the message that he should leave his car and join Rosberg in the Bentley for the ride up to the house. […] Before Seb can slide into the passenger's side of the Bentley, Rosberg has to shoo a pudgy English bulldog into the backseat. It clambers, ungainly, over the console and waddles into the back, collapsing in a happy, wrinkly lump on the leather seats. “Who’s this?” Seb asks, watching long strings of drool ooze from the dog’s flabby mouth onto the pristine interior of Rosberg’s classic Bentley. Seb once saw an R-type Bentley much like this one go for two and a half million at auction. “This is Roscoe,” says Rosberg, long-sufferingly. “The result of an unfortunate affair.”

Charles/Pierre

Hic Svnt Leones by @cerona10 | M | 32.6k

Charles is different to how Pierre remembers him. The world-building in this fic is second to none - it’s absolutely stunning! The world feels so full and alive, and it’s easy to get completely sucked in. The way they build in exposition is so clever and natural feeling, and the action is exhilirating and fun to read. Perfect!

His shadow isn’t his own, not anymore. It shakes and shimmers, fighting against its own shape. His shadow’s head twists and breaks before mending itself into that of a horse, neighing and trashing, a single horn jutting out from its forehead. Its jaw unhinges and it begins breathing heavily, drool escaping its mouth like a waterfall.

Fernando/Lance

nsfw: Venus Flytrap by @pitconfirm | E | 25.7k (wip)

Professional criminal Fernando Alonso is recruited for a job. His mission: seduce Lance Stroll. This fic is RED HOT. From the very first few sentences, Fernando exudes this confidence that is so much fun to read. Contrasted with Lance - pouty, privileged, and surprisingly vulnerable - the dynamics are gorgeous. This author is so fantastic at dialogue and pacing, and this fic flows so beautifully. I can't wait to read more!

Once they reach the games room, it’s easy to spot him among the crowd. For the past few days, Fernando has been memorising every freckle on Lance’s skin. He could recognise him from just the curl of hair on his tender nape, but the most striking thing about Lance is his demeanour—elbows rested on the roulette table while he boredly holds his head in his hands, huffing in disappointment when he loses again. His carelessness stands out starkly against the opulent golden trims and old paintings covering every wall. A boy like Lance doesn’t belong in a place like this, but money talks.

nsfw: green light, red wine (and i don't feel fine) by @vicsy | E | 18.8k (wip)

Fernando is the Mafia boss who owns the club that Lance Stroll - son of his biggest rival - wanders into. This story is SO HOT. The tension between them is palpable, and they bounce off each other so well. You get the feeling that both of them are underestimating each other, and it makes for so much delicious tension. Amazing!

There aren’t many opportunities Fernando deliberately missed in his life. He wouldn’t be on top if he did. Right next to him, clad in a tight white t-shirt, sits an opportunity for a power move, the one Fernando would take all the way.

[outsideratheart]

Finalissima (Leah Williamson x reader)

A/N: In honour of the lionesses wining the Finalissma here is a little fic. I’m not sure if it can be classed a sequal but it does take place in the same universe as Welcome to Colney. I hope you guys like it.

When you arrived at Wembley Park the sight of the stadium brought goosebumps to your skin. The stadium was legendary and as you looked up the steps at the end of Wembley way you saw the video montage advertising the historic match between the Champions of Europe and the Copa de America champions. A sense of pride fills you when you see the moment Leah lifts the trophy. You may not have known her at that point but hearing the way she described that day makes you feel like you were there. Then it showed you and the rest of the Brazilian team lifting your town trophy and you are reminded why you are there. You have a job to do and there it just so happened that the person standing in your way was also your girlfriend.

You were looking forward to the press conference because it meant you got to see Leah. Having just arrived for their MD -1 training, Leah and Sarina were already outside the conference room by the time you and Pia arrive.

“Don’t worry, you’re not late” You hear Leah say when she sees you reach into your pocket for your phone

It had only been four days since you had since Leah but boy was she a sight for sore eyes. 

You didn’t know what to do. With both Sarina and Pia standing close by you couldn’t greet the blonde you way you truly wanted to so you settle a hug which doesn’t half as long as you wished and subtly place a kiss to her neck as not to get caught by the women in front of you.

The four of you make small talk until a member of the media team tell you that the press conference is ready to begin. You and Leah enter side by side but are soon split up with you being placed at one end of the table and Leah at the other.

“They have to seperate us” Leah says earning a laugh from the journalists 

The blonde jokingly holds up her fists, a gesture which you respond.

“I’ll do my fighting on the pitch” 

Your competitive nature is something that Leah admired, now less so considering she was on the opposite end of it. 

The first couple of questions were for the coaches and whilst you tried your hardest to listen and take in what they were saying, your focus remained on your girlfriend. No words were exchanged put plenty was said with your eyes.

“Focus Y/N” your coach whispers whilst Sarina answer a journalist’s question.

“I am”

“On the press, not on your girlfriend” 

When you and Leah officially started dating you didn’t hide it. The fans soon noticed the way you were always together. They caught the moments when you hand rested a little bit too low on Leah’s back or how she was wore clothes that struck a striking resemblance to yours.

“I’m playing mind games” 

“No, you’re letting her in your head. Parar agora” 

Pia was right. Leah had been sending you teasing messages all day about how Wembley is her house and nobody will beat her there. She had access to your head that nobody else had and although you wouldn’t admit it, she was breaking you down from the inside.

You wait for the question that you know is coming. It just a matter of whether you or Leah gets asked it.

“Y/N, Leah” you both look at each other “Tomorrow you will be marking each other. Do you think this is will be easier or harder given that you are team mates?”

Leah waits knowing that you will want to answer this question.

“Before coming to Arsenal I knew that Leah was one of the the best centre backs in the world. In the last few months I have seen the reason why she rightfully has this title. As for tomorrow, what’s the saying? Iron sharpens Iron. I know Leah will bring her A game but there’s nothing I want more than to walk away from Wembley tomorrow Finalissima champions and being the first team to beat England under Sarina Wiegman”

She knew you meant it but the emotionless tone of your voice worried Leah. You were her team mate and girlfriend yet the way you talked about was as if she was just another opponent.

“Thanks Y/N” Leah jokes “Tomorrow is going to be difficult. Brazil has the reputation they have for a reason. Their playing style is like no other and we welcome the challenge. I admire Y/N’s optimism but we are playing at Wembley, these are our fans and we won’t let them down, they will see us lift another trophy” 

The tension between the two of you grew thick and heavy within seconds.

 “As you can see our captains are ready for battle” Pia jokes.

When the press conference ends you have an uneasy feeling in your gut. Ever since this fixture was announced you and Leah joked about going head to head but now that it’s the day before the game things have changed, there is no longer room for jokes.

The four of you leave the conference room, Pia says she will meet you back in the hotel stating that you need to be back for team meal and Sarina tells Leah to meet her on the pitch in ten minutes. 

Once you are alone you sink down the wall, Leah soon join you. When she is by your side your hand rests on her thigh and she leans her head against your shoulder.

“Are you ok?” Leah asks.

“It’s a lot” you place a gentle kiss to the side of her head “I hate that one of us has to lose tomorrow”

“It’s all part of the game Y/N, the game you love so much. That competitive fire the burns in there” Leah taps your heart “is why you care so much and it’s why you feel the way you do” 

“It is going to be really fun to beat you tomorrow”

“I’m being supportive and you’re ruining it” 

“I know, I’m sorry” 

Abruptly, Leah stands up and for a small moment you think she is mad at you so you avoid eye contact, instead choosing to play with the laces on your trainers. You feel Leah kick your foot gently in attempt to get your attention, it works. She holds her hands up and helps you to your feet.

“Tomorrow is going to be incredible, win or lose. We are making history and there’s no one I would rather do it with. We are going to lead our teams out to a sold out Wembley stadium and then at the end of the game I want you to come and find me, ok?”

It amazed you how Leah knew exactly what to say to make you feel better, no matter the circumstance.

“Come here” 

You greet her the way you wanted you before the press conference but your kiss is cut short when you hear someone clearing their throat. Much to your annoyance Leah pulls away but you pull in and steal one more kiss. 

Playing in front of a sold out Wembley stadium is something many few can say they have done especially in the women’s game and it is a moment you will tell your children about in the future but right now the screams of the home fans make you realise the challenge at hand will be anything but easy. 

The first half ends with England up 1-0, the home side was proving that Wembley was in fact their house but it wasn’t over yet and you were determined to play your heart out for the next 45 minutes. Despite the absence of Marta and Debinha, you are Geyse are putting the England defenders through it and they are struggling to keep up with your pace and Brazilian flair. They are starting to get desperate as the second half is all Brazil.

Just as you are through on goal your ankles get clipped and given where you are on the field you know exactly who is responsible for it. 

“Watch it baby, being cute only gets you so far” you whisper as she helps you to your feet.

This is how to game goes and as the clock counts down Brazil get’s closer and closer to getting the equaliser. It’s not matter of if, it’s a matter of time and that time comes in 93rd minute. The moment you hit the ball you know it is going into the back of the next. You quickly celebrate before grabbing the ball so that the game can restart as soon as possible but there isn’t enough time for a second goal as the final whistle is blown.

Penalties. 

Both teams have strong penalty takers so it comes as no surprise when the fifth and final penalty determines the game. The referee gave you the ball and the boos that followed were deafening. You could feel your heart beating rapidly but it didn’t change a thing. You had taken countless penalties over your career and the key is to treat each one the same, the crowd & venue didn’t matter.

You weren’t predicable when it came to placement from the spot yet somehow Mary is able to get her fingers to the ball and sends it over the bar. She did it, she had saved your shot and you had cost your team the Finalissima.

You couldn’t believe it. The sounds of the crowd became muffled almost as if you were underwater. Your gaze remains on the goal, which was now empty as Mary Earps has long left to celebrate with her team, you were in shock and you mind replays the shot over and over again. The shame you felt was overwhelming and you wasn’t ready to face your team yet but you knew they would be on their way to you.

Leah watched from a distance as you crouched down with you head hanging between your legs. She is torn between celebrating with her team and going to comfort you. In the end she chooses the latter knowing that she has all night to be with her friends.

“Give her a minute” Rafaelle stands in front of her blocking the way.

“I just want to see if she is alright” Leah didn’t want to challenge her team mate and your friend.

“Y/N has never missed a penalty in her entire career and to do it now, in front of all these people and in a final. She felt a lot of pressure for this game”

“We all did and for it to go to penalties isn’t what any of us wanted” 

Leah tries to explain that they all felt pressure given the stakes but Rafaelle still tries to explain your point of view. She knows by past experiences that there’s no way you will talk about what you felt today and what this loss means to you.

“You see the number she wears” Rafaelle point to where you are now stood and more so the the 10 on the back of your shirt “That 10 means a lot in Brazil and she will feel like she failed not only us but everyone back home. She says it’s her job to score goals and today she did that but she won’t be happy with one because she knows if she would have scored two then we would have won”

“I won’t say anything Rafa, I just need her to know that it is ok”

“Leah I know you are her girlfriend and she loves you but I’m her best friend so listen to me when I say give her some time and wait for her to come to you. This will hurt Leah”

The blonde didn’t hear a word the Brazilian said after ‘she loves you’. You and Leah hasn’t said those words said but she wanted to.

Eventually you rejoin your team and congratulate the opposition on their win. You interaction with Leah is short and you keep your game face on, you couldn’t let Leah see through your facade.

“You played really well Y/N” After her discussion Leah didn’t know what to say to you.

“Not good enough but congratulations Leah” 

For a brief moment Leah thinks are you going to kiss her and it gives her peace knowing that you are ok but you move to side at the last minute, the kiss is placed on her cheek instead of her lips.

She watches as you walk into the tunnel with your medal in your medal in your hand instead of round your neck.

An hour or so later you stood at the balcony on the rooftop of your hotel as you watched the England fans on the street below you. It hurt knowing that you let your team and country down but what you hate the most if that no matter how hard you try you cannot be happy for your girlfriend.

“I’m surprised to see you here” the sound of Geyse’s voice brings you out of your trance.

“Where else am I suppose to be?” 

“We thought you would be with Leah” Rafa and few of the other girls join you.

“No” you shake her head “I don’t think she wants to see me, I wasn’t the best girlfriend earlier”

“Y/N you were being a captain who tends to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders”

“It’s my job and today I failed—“

“You didn’t fail us and we wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to spend the night with your girlfriend especially when we leave for Germany tomorrow” 

“I don’t know where she is”

Just has you finish your sentence you phones goes off.

“Leah?” Rafa asks and you shake your head.

It wasn’t Leah but it was someone that could help you find her but it came with one condition, an exchange of shirts. You double check that the team are happy for you to leave and they all but push you towards the door.

Meanwhile at a restaurant within Wembley Stadium the Lionesses are celebrating the win with their families but Leah cannot help but think about one person that isn’t with her. She stares at her phone screen with her thumb hovering over your contact. She knew Rafaelle was right but she needed to know if you were ok.

“Still thinking about your hot Brazillian girlfriend?” Beth asks. Although she wasn’t playing in the game she still showed up the support them. 

“Rafa said to wait until she comes to be but I don’t know I can wait that long”

“Well it looks like you won’t need to” Beth turns her team mate around to where you have just entered the restaurant.

You were still dressed in your team tracksuit and the look of defeat was there but barely visable to anyone that didn’t know you. She sees your eyes scan the room and a smile appears on her face when you find her. The closer you get to her the bigger the smile gets and Leah knows the one her face mirrors yours.

“Minha Linda” your arms wrap around her tightly.

“What are you doing here?” Leah asks before kissing you quickly.

“I’m here to support and celebrate my girlfriend because that is what she deserves” your arms fall to her waist.

“How did you know where we were?” 

You hold up your match worn shirt and watch as a look of guilt washes over Leah’s face. 

“Baby, I swapped with Rafa” Leah didn’t know what to say. If she had known you wanted to swap shirts with her than she wouldn’t have given hers to her fellow centre back.

“This isn’t for you. It’s for Mary” Leah eyes widen at her keeper’s name “I know, she’s got guts but I think her performance makes her deserving, don’t you?”

“She put an end to your streak” Leah couldn’t help it as a smirk tugs her lips. She hates that it was against your but Mary’s save won them trophy and she was proud of her.

“She did but next time we play I want your shirt, deal?” 

“Deal” 

You quickly made go over to Mary who upon seeing you enter already has her shirt ready. The two of you sign them before posing for a photo and you make sure to congratulate the keeper on her exceptional performance, Mary Earps had earned your respect in that game and you wanted to make sure she knew that.

Having shared you enough, Leah pulls you back over to where her family are seated and introduces you to the entire Williamson family. 

Leah saw you relax as the night went on but she remembered what she was told earlier on and she couldn’t let it go. She hates the amount of pressure you put on yourself, she saw the way you were with Arsenal but with Brazil it grew tenfold and you needed you to know you weren’t alone.

“Y/N” Leah tapped you thigh softly as you listened to what her mum and brother were talking about. Upon hearing your name you turn your attention to your girlfriend “I want you to know that you’re not alone anymore. I’m here if you want someone to talk to about the pressure you feel about representing your country. I know it’s a little bit different for you but I understand what you’re going through” 

“Leah I know that I have you and it means a lot. I knew you understood me the day we first met and it’s why I feel the most at peace when I’m with you. Today was hard and losing the game was tough but it’s moments like this with you that I know win or lose everything will be ok”

You had spent the past couple of days stressing about the outcome of this game and what it would mean for you and Leah, in the end it didn’t change a thing. If anything you both respected each other more and it became a memory that you will both remember for a long time to come.

[ya9amicide]

Redamancy [BTS]

chapter two

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ♡

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

taglist: @frieschan​ || @writingwithmai || @osakis-gf || @hiefisch

Although I knew there were seven of them, it was no less shocking or intimidating now that they were standing in front of me. It was clear that they were all a different species which is shocking as most of the time, packs with both predator and prey hybrids don’t mesh well.

Some were hiding behind others. The ones in front did not look happy with the situation…understandably.

“Hello,” I say, observing how some of their ears twitched at the sound of my voice. “I was going to feed…I’m sorry I never got your name.” I turn my attention to the German Shepherd I welcomed in earlier.

“Hoseok,” he says.

I smile and he shifts on his feet. “I was going to feed Hoseok and offer a place to sleep while the storm is raging outside. He told me there were more of you so I thought I’d offer the same to you as well.”

One of the hybrids in the front watches me. He has shaggy gray ears and a tail to match. “Why?” He asks, tone flat and voice low.

“Do I…need a reason?” I ask and he narrows his eyes and I sigh. “Because you shouldn’t have to sleep outside in a storm like this. You shouldn't have to sleep outside at all to begin with.” They still just stand there. “I’m going to get some more towels so you can dry off. If you’re here when I get back, I’ll assume you accept my offer, and if not…” I take my leave then.

When I get back, I make a move closer to them with a stack of towels, and they shuffle backwards, some letting out low growls. I freeze, body tensing. Without taking my eyes off of them, I slowly place the towels on a side table by the couch. “Feel free to sit in the living room or the kitchen. Once we get some food in you I can show you to the showers and the bedrooms. You can take some of my brother’s clothes in the meantime.”

Moving into the kitchen to make more food, I don’t hear anything from the other room for a few minutes. Then there’s shuffling and I know they’re drying off. From what I can tell, they are all staying in there.

However, when I turn around to start bringing food to the kitchen table, I see the tall hybrid with the shaggy gray fur and I jump. “Motherfu–,” I slam my hand over my mouth before I finish the word. I’m sure he can hear the erratic beating of my heart.

His mouth twitches slightly. “Sorry.”

I wave him off after my heart calms down a little. “You’re fine. I just didn’t hear you coming in so I wasn’t expecting to see someone when I turned around. Would you mind bringing everyone to the table, please?” He nods and walks off.

I set all of the food out and notice that they are all standing off to the side, watching me. “...You can sit down.”

“Anywhere?” The small cat hybrid in the back says, moving to stand behind the others when my gaze turns to him.

I tilt my head slightly in confusion. “Of course, anywhere! I don’t have a preference so pick whichever spot you want.”

The predator hybrids seem to surround the prey around the table. The only spot left is by the shaggy gray one from before. It seems they want to protect the others from me should I try something.

They all wait for me to start filling my plate before they do the same. “So, I know Hoseok’s name. Can I know the rest? Also, I’m not really the best at identifying hybrids so if you’re comfortable I’d like to know what kind of hybrid you are.”

Hoseok is the first to speak up, still nervous, but clearly more comfortable with me than the rest because of our previous interaction. “German Shepherd,” he says, which makes sense as soon as he says it. His ears and tail are full of deep brown fur, both a bit wild from the conditions outside.

“Yoongi,” another one of them says, his tone and stare both cold, “Russian Blue cat.” It’s short and dirty, but it’s clear to see that his fur is a silvery gray color.

The small cat from before sits next to him, gripping his sleeve tightly. “Jimin…I’m a Calico.” His voice is timid and he avoids looking at me. His fur is a beautiful patchwork of black, orange and white.

One of the tallest ones speaks next, his tiny white ears barely visible through his hair. “I’m Seokjin,” his voice is quiet and kind. “I’m a ferret.”

“I’m Jungkook! I’m a rabbit,” one of the younger boys says. It’s then that I can hear the sound of thumping on the ground. His foot is tapping in excitement and he gives me a bright, but still nervous smile. I smile kindly at him and his eyes twinkle.

The big hybrid from before leans back in his seat next to me. “I’m a wolf,” he says and then pauses, as if waiting to see if I would run away in fear at this. I simply raise a questioning eyebrow in response and he smirks again. “My name is Namjoon.”

I finally turn my attention to the last hybrid and almost jolt when his striking feline eyes meet mine. They’re half lidded and observant. “Hello,” his voice is deep and echoes throughout the room. “My name is Taehyung, I’m a tiger.” He grins wickedly.

“I thought packs with predator and prey hybrids don’t usually work?” I ask.

“Most of us have been together since we were young,” Namjoon says. “Under the right circumstances bonds like ours can work.” His tone is suggestive when he talks about how they came together. It’s dark and angry. Clearly, the circumstances weren’t good ones.

The bunny is still bouncing his foot in anticipation under the table. “What’s your name?” He asks.

“I’m Wren,” I say, taking another bite of food.

“What do you do, Wren?” Yoongi asks in a purr. He leans forward, tone sly.

My gaze turns fond. “I’m a writer when I want to be but a professor everyday in between.” I love what I do. Most days I get to teach people about Greek mythology, something I’ve held a big interest in since I was little. And in between all of that, I get to write books about things from the deep recesses of my mind that others get to eventually enjoy.

“How did you guys end up out in the storm?” I ask. They all shift uncomfortably, those who were previously comfortable now retreated back into themselves. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Namjoon waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. It’s a reasonable question. We’ve been out on the streets for a while now. All of us have rotated to and from different owners and shelters since we were young. That’s how we met each other. We all eventually ended up on the streets and just stuck together after that.”

It was safe to say that after that, the lighthearted mood was gone.

When everyone finished eating, I guided them upstairs to the different bedrooms and bathrooms. “Here are some clothes. They should fit relatively well,” I hand them each a pile of clothes to choose from. “They’re my brothers. He used to live with me but when he moved out he left some stuff behind. There are towels and toiletries in the cabinets. You all can choose between any of the bedrooms except mine of course. So, any room besides the last one on the right is free reign. If you get hungry feel free to raid the kitchen, I just ask that you clean up any messes you make.”

I watch them all shuffle where they stand. I blow out a breath of air and awkwardly rock on my heels. “Well, if you need anything don’t be afraid to come ask. I have nothing going on tomorrow so don’t be afraid to wake me. All I ask is that you knock before you come into my room.” Knowing they won’t give me any further answers, I walk down the hall to my room. Giving them one last look over my shoulder, I quietly close the door behind me.

[vanfleeter]

Matched: Chapter 1 - The Reunion

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Thea Warnings: 18+. Drinking. Angst. Smut. Lust. Protected sex (p in v). Oral sex (m & f receiving). Fluff. (please let me know if I missed anything) Author's Note: Beginning of an adventure told through the eyes of Jacob.

When I met her, I found myself immediately attracted to her. Pathetic, I know. There was just something about her that drew me to her. Her eyes sparkle when she’s happy but show utter despair when she’s not. I fear if a flower were to look upon her sadness, it would wilt. But the life that shines through when she’s happy is like bathing in the sunlight, warm and comfortable. Her smile is contagious, you can’t help but smile when she does. Her laugh is melodious, like a song you want to listen to over and over again and never tire of hearing it. Her hair, long and dark as it flows over her shoulders and halfway down the spine of her back. Her skin lights me on fire in the best possible way. I crave to feel her skin against mine, tracing my fingers along her skin, tracing every curve and goosebump that raises as I make my mark on her.

I thought I was shit out of luck when I found out that Sam liked her too. Pursued her in every possible way until he finally got her to agree to go out on a date with him. I kept my distance whenever she came around, looked away when he’d kiss her. I tried to keep myself distracted from her, dated around–but no one compared to her. No was like her. I thought of her whenever I had myself buried inside of another woman. She consumed my thoughts at every waking hour, she even infiltrated my dreams.

Seeing her with Sam physically pained me. Did she make him feel the same way she makes me feel? Did he get butterflies whenever he saw her? Did his heart pound in his chest when she was near? Would his palms get sweaty? Did he ever stutter over his words when he spoke with her because of how nervous she makes him?

I would do anything to have her–but she’s with my brother. I can’t do that to him. I can’t be selfish, wanting her all to myself. He seems to genuinely like her, her him. He’s happy, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin that.

Fate, though, seemed to have different plans.

After being away for nearly a year, traveling around the boat, like I’ve always wanted to do–something my twin brother thought was insane, I had come back home to be told of the news that I used to be so desperate to hear.

“We broke up..” Sam says as he pops the top off of a beer bottle and hands it over to me. I gladly take it and drink some of it.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say as I set the bottle down on the table. “When did it happen?”

“A few weeks after you left on your boat trip,” He sits down across the table from me and takes a drink of his own beer. “But it ended on good terms.. We mutually decided to split. We fit better as friends.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Sam nods his head, takes another drink of his beer. The bustle of the people in the bar toned down a little, finally. Between the loud music and the people raising their voices over it to be heard made my head want to explode.

I see his face light up and he waves someone over. “I didn’t think you were going to make it!” He says as he slides out of the booth to hug the incoming guest. I nearly choke on my beer when I see her walking over.

It’s only been a year but somehow she looks different. Her long hair was now shorter, stopping just above her breasts. Those seemed to have gotten bigger too.

Knock it off, Jake. Be respectful.

She stands there, dressed in a black leggings that accentuate her curves and she’s wearing a dark red sweater, a little low cut revealing the top half of her cleavage.

After their hug ends, Sam invites her to join us in the booth. She happily agrees and slides in beside him. My heart hammers in my chest, the same way it always has. I hadn’t thought of her the whole time I was away–or at least the last six months of my trip, I wasn’t. It only took me half the trip to finally decide to get over her. Now here she is, seated across from me, looking more beautiful than she did when I had last seen her.

“So, Jake..” I lift my eyes to look at her. The way she says my name, innocently enough, but still does something to me. “How was your boating trip? I saw a few things you’ve posted, looked like fun.”

“It was good,” I say as I take another drink. “Relaxing, it felt nice to get away from everything for a little while.”

She smiles and it just about kills me and I can’t fight the urge to smile back. “I’m glad you had a good time. Missed you though..”

She missed me?

“Feels good being back?”

“Yeah, it does.” I say.

Sam then excuses himself to the bathroom. He’s leaving us alone. Now the sweaty palms set in. I run them against the fabric of my jeans, willing the nerves to go away. It’s been over a year, almost two, since we were ever alone together. It was quiet between us. Neither one of us is speaking. I had no words, unsure of what to say exactly as the woman I once loved sits in the booth across from me.

Could this really be happening? Is fate trying its damndest to push us back together, though we have never been together? Or is this some cruel joke from the universe, bringing us together like this, only then to rip us apart and force me through the tragic heartbreak of seeing her loving on someone else?

“I saw that you made a stop along the coast of Florida back in June.” She finally says. “Not to sound stalkerish, but I saw you there.”

I looked up again, meeting her eyes. “You were there? You saw me?”

She nods her head. “I wanted to talk to you but uh, you seemed a bit preoccupied with a blonde–practically swallowing her tongue.” My cheeks burned in a flush and I ran a hand through my hair. She giggles and leans back in the booth. “I would’ve gone to see you the next day, but your boat was already gone.”

“You would have come to me?” I ask, not believing a word she was saying. She would have come to me. I barely remember being there. I don’t think I would have remembered her if she did come to me. I barely remember the blonde. I wouldn’t deny that if I woke up with her wrapped up around me, I wouldn’t have been upset. It’s everything I had longed for, to have her wrapped around my body, whimpering my name as I made her come apart at the mercy of my own hands.

“I should’ve gone sooner, maybe I would’ve caught you before you left.” She says, leaning forward on the table.. “After that, you were never seen or heard from. Next thing I know, today comes and Sam is calling me, inviting me out because you finally came back home.”

“And you still came?”

I can see the light blush in her cheeks. She nods her head and smiles. “After seeing you in Florida, you were all I could think about. Hoping you were safe but also hoping you would come back home.”

“I would have, eventually..”

“I see that now.”

My mouth presses into a tight lipped smile. Glancing around the bar, I notice that Sam hasn’t emerged from the bathroom. Pulling out my phone, I shot him a quick text.

‘Where are you?’

Just as quick, he response comes back. ‘Went home. Have some fun! ;)’

“Um well,” I cleared my throat. “Seems like Sam has ditched us.”

“You’re kidding..”

I shake my head and stuff my phone back into my pocket.

Come on, Jake.. Take your chance. She’s here. Don’t let her get away again.

“I’m going to go pay the tab, and then maybe we can get out of here?” I say, in hopes that she’ll say yes. When she nods her head, I begin to slide out of the booth and make my way up to the bar to close the tab. I’ll request the money later from Sam as payment for ditching us. Though I’m secretly hoping tonight won’t be all bad.

If she had shown up on my boat, I would have taken her with me. I would have taken her everywhere with me. So long as I had her and knew she was mine, I would have done it. 

“I still have it,” I say. “The boat.”

Having not driven to the bar this evening, I had no other way home. So a walk is what we took back to my place. A place she’s never been. A place that has never been graced with her presence, everything inside untouched. Now she’s here, standing in my living room and holding a glass of wine.

“You brought it all the way here?”

I nod my head. Taking her hand, I pull her out of the living room and out the back door towards the pole barn. Her eyes grew twice their size when I pulled her through the door and flipped on the lights.

“This is so much bigger than I thought it was.” She says as she approaches the boat. She runs her fingers along the still glistening paint. “Don’t tell me you brought women on to this..”

I chuckle but shake my head. “No.. I didn’t think anyone was worth bringing onto this.” I find myself stepping behind her, placing my hands on her hips and drawing her close to me. “Except you..”

She turns her head to the side and lifts her eyes up to look at him. “Only me?”

I nod my head and pull away to lead her around to the back where the ladder is. I drag it down and help her climb up. “I was selfish.. Hoping that I’d find you out there somewhere and that I’d take you back here and make love to you like I’ve always wanted to.”

I caught her biting her bottom lip. She steps up to me and slowly wraps her arms around my neck. “What if we did that now?” She asks.

She.. I stood there, not believing the words that she had spoken. After everything that transpired; our meeting, her falling in love with Sam and then them dating, my heart longing to be hers and she to be mine, and then my leaving. Now she stands before me, suggesting the act of making love to be committed at this moment.

“It’s not the same without being on the waves…” I say with a sly smile.

She shrugs her shoulders and pulls away before walking around me. She ducks inside but peers back out. “We can make our own waves.”

Oh fuck.

I didn’t want to seem desperate and run right after her but at the same time I wanted to run after her. So I met in the middle and hastily went after her. I brought her to the bedroom and gently laid her out on the bed.

Is this really happening?

Her legs wrap around my waist and she pulls me down on top of her. Her breasts are fully pressed up against my chest. Leaning down, I press my lips to hers. My god, they feel so good. They were everything I imagined they would be. Soft and nearly smooth, save for a few breaks in the sensitive skin.

On instinct, my hips grind against her core and she moans into my mouth. I know I’m growing hard and I know she knows because I feel her hand snake its way between our bodies. She cups her hand around my clothed length and slowly starts to move her hand in circles. I groan and bury my face in her neck where I lick and I suck on her skin, leaving a noticeable mark.

I will always mark her so everyone knows that she belongs to me now.

Not being able to contain myself, I pull away and unbutton the rest of my shirt before sliding it off and tossing it somewhere in the room. She sits up as well and removes her top, revealing her braless chest to me. Immediately, I latch onto her left breast as I begin to massage her right one. I circle her nipple with my tongue before lightly nipping at it, which elicits a deep moan from within her.

Licking her nipples once more, I pull away again only to hook my fingers beneath the waistband of her leggings and drag them down her legs along with her panties. I find them to be black and all lace. I wonder if her bra matches, if she ever chose to wear it. Once I have her pants off, I move downwards, hooking her legs over my shoulders.

Her cunt is right there in front me and I couldn’t feel any luckier than I do at this moment. I bet I’m better than any lover she’s ever had.

“Jake…” I hear her whine. It makes my cock twitch inside my pants. Guess I know now that I like to hear her whine like that.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” I tease as I bring my hand to her center and slowly rub my thumb in circles over her clit.

She moans and reaches down with her hands to tug at my hair. “You know what..”

I smirk and move my face closer, removing my thumb and rubbing my nose against her clit instead. I flick out my tongue and lick upwards through her folds, as slowly as possible, just to drive her crazy.

I lick and I suck and I thrust my fingers inside of her until I have her legs clutching my head tightly between them. She comes undone at my mercy and I drink up every drop she has to offer.

Pulling away, I gently drop her legs to the bed and undo my belt before unbuttoning and shoving them down my legs. Digging into my wallet, I pull out a condom and slide it on my length. She moves up the bed to make herself more comfortable and I crawl after her, resting once again in between her legs.

In one swell thrust, I’m plunging deep inside of her, stretching her out. We both moan in pleasure as I bottom out. I’ve always dreamt of this, having my cock buried so far inside of her and making the most beautiful love to her. And now it’s becoming real. I start to move, thrusting in and out at a delicious pace. I come to rest my arms on either side of her head, tangling my fingers inside of her hair.

Her naked breasts bounce with each of my thrusts, they brush against my chest, which turns me on even more. I feel her hook her leg against my waist before I’m suddenly flipped onto my back and she’s on top of me, straddling me. She laughs at the surprised look on my face.

Fuck yeah I’m surprised. No woman has ever done that before.

She keeps the pace I had going, lifting herself up on her knees before letting herself drop back right back down. I can tell she’s close as her walls clench around me.

“Soak me, Thea..” I bring my hand between us and rub her throbbing clit. Her fingers dig into my chest and thrust my hips upwards, pushing myself deeper. My name falls from her mouth as her release coats every inch of me and continues to ride me until her orgasm is through.

Before I even had a chance to register how beautiful she looked, she was off of me in a second and rolling off the condom. Her mouth swallows me and she begins working me to my own release.

“Fuck..” I clutch the sheets in my hands as my legs shake. I didn’t even know I could do that.

Soon she has me coming to my release, the orgasm washing cleanly over me. Her tongue. Goddamn. She licks me from shaft to tip, not missing a single drop of my own release.

Once she is finished and my orgasm subsides into nothing, she crawls back up to me and curls into my side, draping her leg across my waist.

“That was… Wow..” I breathed, my chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as I worked to relax my body. She giggles against my chest and begins to draw little circles on my skin.

“Jake?” I hum in acknowledgment, waiting for her to continue. “Had we seen each other again in Florida, would you have taken me with you?”

I nod my head and look down at her. “In a heartbeat.”

There was a part of me that couldn’t believe that this is all real, that if I were to wake up tomorrow morning, she would be gone and I would have dreamed all of this. A dream that I never would want to wake from, because she’s here and she’s in my arms.

____________________________________________________

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