#bathroom friendlier

[b33zlebubz]

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER THREE - some faces are friendlier than others.

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

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TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

Fluorescent lights, you've come to realize, might be the lowest layer of hell.  Lower than high school and broken noses and every other unpleasant thing you've experienced thus far in your short life.

The low buzz and flicker of the sterile fixtures above your head seemed to follow you everywhere; almost mocking you.  They were there years ago in the hospital as you held bloodied newspapers up to your disfigured nose, watching the nurses talk to your social worker about what to do with you—then again at your first time working a full nightshift at the gas station down the street.  They were there at every adoption party growing up as you stood in the corner, awkwardly shuffling your feet as you—begrudgingly—introduced yourself to every adult that approached you.  Every school you attended, every clinic, hospital, and residency had them; lights sent from hell to assault your eyes specifically.

Even now, as you shoot upright in the spare dorm-like room Price supplied you with, the fixtures are above your head.  The only difference is that this time, they’re off.  Your brain swims, your breathing tight and fleeting as you grasp the fabric of your sweater in attempts to calm your raging heart.  When that doesn’t work, you throw the covers off and stumble for the door.   Cold, bare feet hitting the linoleum as shaky hands fumble through the dark for the bathroom doorknob.  When you finally get inside, you retch into the sink.

Everything between arriving at your house two days ago and ending up here is a blur.

You don’t leave your room much after the talk with Price—fully content to just sleep the days and nights away until the nightmares took hold.  You only wake up whenever Price knocks on your door and coasts you out to show you around.

You don't know what to think about him---not yet---but you're pretty sure he's safe.  He's painfully British; with thick facial hair framing his face and the faint smell of cigar smoke lingering on his fatigues when you open the door.  Unlike the others you've seen hanging around, always looking very official in pristine business-casual wear or covered head to toe in gear, he has a worn hat that never leaves his head.

He shows you the basics, introducing you to his colleagues around the building and making conversation as you walk.

The bathroom is down the hall, dining facility is downstairs, medical wing on the first floor, the common areas, Laswell’s office, and Price’s office…you can’t say you were able to pay much attention.

Not when that huge, skull-masked Lieutenant is in the same room as you for some of it.

It's then that you learn his name.

"Ghost?"  You question, raising an eyebrow.  You watch the man in question—looking utterly out of place as he slides over to sit with a few others at a table nearby.  He's dressed casually in a black jacket and dark tactical pants; but the balaclava and mask still remain. 

Price places a hand on your shoulder.

"Ghost, Soap…"  he nods towards the Scot you recognize from the day before.  He looks a bit more approachable than his masked counterpart, at least—poking fun at the Lieutenant next to him.  There's a thick bandage around his forearm where you bit him yesterday.

Then, Price gestures to the only one you haven't met yet.  "...And Gaz.”

The man is already looking at you when you meet his gaze, but he quickly glances away again, distracted by Soap who claps a hand to his shoulder.  Whatever he says must be funny, because Gaz laughs and shakes his head, distracted.

"Weird names," you remark, and that earns a chuckle from the captain.

"Callsigns," he replies.  "Nicknames, basically.  Stick around long enough you might earn one yourself…but let's hope not."

You nod.  Your hand comes up to once again brush at the cold dog tags around your neck. "Right.  Yeah, let's hope not."

"You'll be spending a lotta time with 'em for now, probably," Price says, tugging at the brim of his hat as he continues walking, briefly catching your gaze.  "So, I suggest you get used to 'em."

A knot of dread forms in your stomach at his statement.  You glance behind you as you walk—eyes locked on the skull mask.  Again, your head reels with the memory of yesterday.  Gunshots.  Yelling.  Blood on your sneakers.

Blood, blood, blood.

You swallow heavily, "Even Ghost?"

You're sure your unease isn't lost on Price from the way he looks at you.  He places a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, giving it a couple pats as he guides you along with an affirmative nod.  

“Yes,” he says.  "Even Ghost."

The thought makes your mind uneasy.  You swear your heart hasn’t stopped jackrabbiting in your chest since you left your house.  It feels like you should be running, fighting, escaping—something—but instead you find yourself barely leaving your bed.  Your hands itch for your phone to distract yourself but, alas, the only thing Price left you with is your blood-splattered sneakers which sit in the corner.  For good reason, you suppose.

You spend hours staring at the light fixtures above your head in the spare bunk, thinking about everything in your life that's led you up to this point; your father's lies, endless adoption papers, letters, and bright fluorescent lights.  Everything and nothing all at once.  When you finally get to sleep, that's when you find yourself jolting awake at night and stumbling to the bathroom.

When the gagging finally calms, you stand there.  Clammy hands grip the edges of the sink as you breathe—in and out—and swallow back the bitter bile that sticks to your throat.  In your panic, you never even bothered to turn on the lights, and your eyes shine as you make eye contact with your reflection in the dark, dingy mirror.  Light spills in from the hallway behind you, casting a halo of light on your frazzled hair.

Ugh.  You look awful; your bruised eye swollen and irritated again from tossing and turning. The skin on your arms and face is still rubbed raw from viciously scrubbing the blood off in the shower days ago, and you still didn't feel clean. Dried tears streak your face from crying in your sleep.  The thought alone of someone seeing you like this is enough for you to steal yourself.  You take a shaky breath in before letting it out, and you switch on the sink to wash your vomit down the drain.  While you’re at it, numb hands cup the freezing running water before splashing some onto your face, and you stare at yourself for a little while—acquainting yourself with the reality that yes.  This is happening.  Your father faked his death before dying again and now there’s people after you; the man with the scar on his face, you assume, and maybe others.  No, you don’t know the code that Price mentioned and no—you don’t know what’s going on.

You swallow again.

It is what it is.

The dog tags glint against the low light as you turn the faucet off.

Your breathing settled and your heart rate calmed, you're left with a shakiness that comes with the lack of adrenaline.  You lean against the sink for a moment, basking in the silence as the last of your nightmare fades.  You're so lost in thought that the sound of shuffling and low voices in the hallway are almost, almost lost on you.

"It was supposed to be a quiet mission for a reason."

Price's voice can be heard, muffled, down the hall—and you freeze slightly.

"Yeah, well…you can thank the Shadows for that one."  Another, deeper, British accent replies.  One that makes the hairs on your neck prickle.  "'Mission was to extract the kid.  That's it.  If Johnny didn't shoot first, Graves would've.  And we both know how that would've ended."

Price sighs tiredly in response, their voices growing closer as they turn the corner.  You can almost picture him running a hand down his face as he does, the other on his hip.  Then, their footsteps stop a little ways down the hall.

"'Suppose you're right," he says.  "Just…try not to scare 'em too bad.  You know Sparky would want—"

"Yeah…I know," Ghost grunts back, interrupting.  "No promises."

A moment passes. 

There's an unspoken goodbye before you hear footsteps fading off again, signaling one of them has left.  You take a breath and wipe your face before stepping out into the hallway.  You feel his gaze flicker to you as you cross the threshold and pretend not to notice him.  Shaky hands fumble with the doorknob.

It feels eerily similar to the first time you both met.  When he effortlessly killed two men, splattered the blood on you, and then turned around so nonchalantly and asked—

"You good?"  

You freeze up.  Finally, you turn to look at him.

He's not wearing the mask.  Not the skull one, at least, and it works to ease your nerves a little.  The fact that you can see an eyebrow rise at you through a balaclava helps you remember that he is—somehow—human.  A human with a plastic water bottle, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter in his hand with no gun in sight.

You wipe your face again.  Your throat is tight as you speak, as if you've forgotten how to do it altogether, "peachy."

He huffs a breath at your sarcasm, but he doesn't press further.  

"Good," he says.  "'Cause it looks like you've seen a ghost."

You scoff, "you're not funny."

He shifts and tosses you the water bottle in his hand.  You flinch and just barely manage to catch it by the cap.  Then, confused by the gesture, you look back up at him.

"Keep your head up, kid," he says, the subtle softness of his tone not lost on you—although it seems completely foreign.  "'Cause, with the way things are lookin', it'll get worse before it gets better."

It's strange and cryptic.  Your heart lodges in your throat from the strange advice as you lower your brow at him.  "What does?"

"The blood."

You let out a shaky breath, looking away.   "That's hardly comforting."

A moment passes where he just looks at you.  You're unsure what he sees; other than a pathetic, disheveled teenager who just finished dry heaving into a public bathroom sink over a stupid nightmare.  You feel uncomfortable—like he's reading your thoughts, or maybe he's just amused that you're scared of him.  You’re unsure.

"Maybe not," he shrugs and finally looks away, unlocking his door.  "But it's the truth."

You swallow down your unease as you look down at the water bottle.  

A part of you knows he’s right.  Whatever your father got himself tangled up in—it involved you now.  You were being chased and if there was anything you knew about how these stories went; someone was going to end up dead.  Sulking wasn’t going to get you answers, and it certainly wasn’t going to help you going forwards.  You had no idea how the people in the movies, comics, video games, and TV shows always seemed so put-together.  How they—Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and your father—managed to sleep at night with what they did.  What they saw.

"Does it get easier?"  You ask, for some reason.   Your voice is quiet.  Strained.  

Ghost seems caught off guard by the question, because he hesitates in his doorway—a gloved hand resting on the doorknob.  He doesn’t look at you, not really, and you don’t look at him.  You can hear the rain tapping against the window at the end of the hall and the sound of thunder rumbling across the sky above.  You figure he can read minds, because he seems to completely understand what you’re asking without needing to explain much.

“If you’ve seen enough,” he finally speaks.  “Yes ... you do get used to it.”

A moment passes before he shifts and looks at you again. 

“But try not to," he adds. "Your old man didn’t die just for you to get screwed up like the rest of us.”

And, with that, he steps into his quarters and shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone in the sterile hallway.  Fluorescent lights flicker above your head.

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai @karurururu @pertinentpostmortem @kaoyamamegami @hayleybarnesx @nostalgialeech

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[themintsimmer]

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[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Saturday Morning

Plot: Jamie and Y/n spend an unconventional day off together.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child abuse/neglect

A/N: Annndd we’re finally in it in it. A little bit of backstory, a little bit of trauma bonding and a whole lot of fluffy angst. Enjoy!!

(I also fell way behind w/ the taglist and since this series is maybe PG-13, I’m dropping the 16+ 💕)

—————

Someone was knocking on the door.

No, not knocking. Pounding.

Y/n slipped out of bed silently, as if the intruder was already inside her apartment. Bleary-eyed and stumbling in the dark, her hands fumbled for the baseball bat she kept behind her closet door. She’d had it since college and she couldn’t believe she was finally going to have to use it.

The banging continued as she walked through the apartment and down the stairs, growing louder the longer it went unanswered. Whoever was coming to abduct or rob her was clearly in a rush to do so.

Y/n steadied her breath and adjusted her grip on the bat, daring to peek through the peephole and see what she was up against.

“Wha-“ she uttered, lowering her bat and unlocking the door. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

On her stoop, Jamie was bouncing in place, “Can I use your loo?”

Y/n squinted, putting up a hand to block the bulb of Jamie’s stupid headlamp. “What?”

“Roy and I are on a run and I’ve gotta take a piss,” Jamie explained hurriedly, “You’re the only person I know in the neighborhood.”

With a heart rate well over 120 and a mind sluggish from sleep, it took Y/n a second to process his words. “I thought you were a fucking burgler,” she groaned.

Jamie whipped his hand frantically, “Is that a yes?”

Y/n was tempted to shut the door and let him take his chances with a public urination charge. Her friendlier instincts won out and she stepped to the side, letting Jamie race up the staircase to her bathroom. She shut and locked the door once more before trudging back up and setting her bat on the kitchen counter.

A moment later, Jamie emerged, calm and laughing to himself about something. “What kind of burgler knocks before robbin’ ya?”

Y/n was in no mood for his sense of humor. “It is 4-fucking-AM,” she pointed to the stove clock, “I am a single woman who lives on her own and it is 4-fucking-AM.”

“Alright, alright,” Jamie held his hands up in surrender, “Coulda texted you. I’m sorry.”

Y/n leaned against the back of her couch and wiped her hands over her face. Jamie made his way to the stairs, but was struck with a grand idea before he could take the first step.

“Do you wanna come with?”

Y/n glanced up from her palms, “What?”

“With me,” Jamie continued, “Roy. Go for a mornin’ run?”

“What part of 4-fucking-AM isn’t getting through to you?” Y/n asked, floored by his oblivion.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna be up anyway now,” Jamie shrugged, hopping from one foot to the other, “Get your blood pumpin’. Some endorphins.”

Y/n stared at him and wondered if she tried hard enough, could she kill him with eye contact alone?

“It’ll be fun,” Jamie smiled, jutting out his neck a little.

As much as it pained her to admit, he was right. There was no chance in hell she was getting back to sleep with all her senses dialed to 11. It was either tossing and turning in bed for an hour before she admitted defeat and started her day, or do something productive.

Y/n rolled her eyes and brushed past Jamie to grab her running shoes. “4 fucking AM…” she grumbled as she passed him once more.

Jamie made two victorious fists, too pleased with himself to acknowledge the fact that he’d robbed her of a precious Saturday sleep-in. She’d enjoy herself once they got out.

Grabbing a hoodie and locking up her apartment, Y/n followed Jamie out to the street where Roy was waiting on the sidewalk. Under the light of his own headlamp, he looked as confused as Y/n had moments before when he saw her trailing behind Jamie.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

“Convinced States to join us, yeah?” Jamie answered as Y/n yawned.

“I’m gonna fucking push you into the first lake we see,” Y/n glared at the back of Jamie’s head.

Roy looked between his trainee and the woman he barely knew, but respected for the threat alone. Nodding, his eyes landed on Y/n, “You can stay if you keep up.”

“No problem there,” Y/n sighed, taking off into a jog. If Jamie was going to ruin her day off, the least she could do was beat him.

Sharing a glance of amusement, Jamie and Roy ran after Y/n, into the early London morning.

—————————

It turned out to be a fair fight between Y/n and Jamie. Jamie hadn’t underestimated her, per se, but he figured her exhaustion would slow her down. She’d held her own right up against him and impressed even Roy.

“You’re fuckin’ fit, you are,” Jamie said after, the two of them having gone for tea afterwards. He quickly realized the double meaning of the word, “I mean, not like that. I mean, you are, yeah, but I mean-“

“Oh my gosh, words,” Y/n groaned, reaching with one hand to Jamie’s mouth, “Stop.”

Jamie swerved to avoid the hit, chuckling after. “You’re a proper asshole when you’re tired,” he snickered.

“Well, when I get woken up at 4AM,” Y/n glared over at the man, “No, I don’t feel particularly kind.”

The two of them strolled through Richmond, Roy having left them mere minutes ago. They’d run on and off for about an hour before Y/n had to sit through the rest of their regiment. She’d taken a great deal of joy in sitting back with Roy and yelling commands at Jamie.

“I think Roy’s gonna invite you every mornin’ now,” Jamie mused, taking a sip of tea.

Y/n faked a gasp, grasping Jamie’s bicep, “Getting to hurl insults at you? Every day? Oh, well, that’s it. Better hand Keeley my resignation.”

Jamie laughed, shoving her off him before spotting and leading them to a bench. Richmond on a Saturday morning was bustling with people, but it was a peaceful kind of frenzy. The kind you could watch and enjoy.

“Admit it,” Jamie said, sitting down, “You had fun.”

Y/n sighed, pulling her tea to her lips. No such thing would be admitted.

“Why are you even still doing this?” She asked, looking out into the park where a group of kids were kicking around a football, “Zava’s gone. You’re back to being number one. Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

Jamie ran his fingers over his chin, she wasn’t wrong. Zava had made his unannounced exit two weeks prior. The whole reason Roy had offered to train him was to get him back to being the best. He may not have earned it, but the title had been bestowed back to Jamie. Mission accomplished.

“Think it’s more than that,” he answered, “More than Zava. I think…I know I can be better. And I wanna get there. See what I can do.”

Y/n nodded in reply, that was something she could understand. How many times had she pushed herself in school? At work? Not to beat anyone, but to know she had done her absolute best?

“Maybe it’ll pay off in Amsterdam,” she commented before taking a sip of tea. The exhibition match was just one week away.

“Ah,” Jamie smiled, “You excited?”

Y/n tilted her head from side to side in a shrug, “I guess. I’ve never been.”

Jamie’s face transformed in a split second, from content to near disgusted.

Y/n leant back, “What?”

“You’ve never been to Amsterdam?” Jamie was darn near incredulous at the mere notion.

“No,” Y/n replied, her voice jumping an octave under his judgement.

Jamie scoffed and turned away from her. “How the fuck do you live here this long and not go to Amsterdam?”

“And yet somehow, I still walk the earth,” Y/n chuckled at how bothered he was, “I’m guessing you’ve been.”

Jamie’s lips popped out very duckface-ish. “‘Course I have. Practically a fuckin’ tour guide.”

“Alright,” Y/n said, “Gimme your recommendations.”

Settling back against the bench as if he meant to stay a proper while, Jamie ran through his index. He picked through the pleasant memories, stag parties and one emergency diverted flight that ended in a particularly rowdy five star hotel evening. None of those amounted to anything stacked up against one trip taken much earlier in life.

“Gotta go to the Anne Frank house,” he began to list off ideas, “It’s super sad, but you gotta do it. There’s a really good place nearby to get stroopwafel, gotta go there. Eh, a boat ride down the canal. The tour guides driving ‘em give you all these fun facts about the architecture and the history and stuff.”

Y/n listened, it was the first time she’d seen Jamie properly excited about something. He was passionate on the field, but this was a childlike joy.

“You do remember there’s a match, right?” she laughed, “I’m only gonna end up having, like, one night.

“Then fuckin’ pack it in,” Jamie shrugged and gestured ahead of them like the country was laid out before them, “It’s Amsterdam.”

Y/n raised her cup to take a sip, “How do you know so much? You’ve really been that many times?”

“My mum took me when I were about 16,” Jamie answered, “Took me to all the historical sights and stuff. Guess it all just stuck.”

“Hm,” Y/n nodded, “What about your dad?”

What prompted her to ask, Y/n couldn’t know. She’d noticed that Jamie’s mother came up in conversation sometimes, but his father never did. Her subconscious curiosity had gotten the better of her.

Jamie felt his chest tighten at the mention of his dad. Y/n couldn’t have known anything about their relationship, he knew this. He just wasn’t sure how to reply when it was a subject he didn’t want to pick up. At all.

“Not really a thing,” he chose the safest answer, “He took me before me mum, but…wasn’t nearly as fun.”

Y/n watched his expression shift, how his eyes went from watching his fingers slide over his paper cup to the air in front of them. How Jamie was always fidgeting, but was now doing it with purpose. Worse, she recognized something about all of it.

“I’m sorry,” she backtracked, “That was way too personal, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, it’s-“ Jamie quickly held up a hand. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel bad for her innocence. “It’s fine. He’s just a,” Jamie shook his head, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

Y/n gazed down at her tea, sensing there was more that he wanted to say. Looking away not only saved her dignity, but it allowed him some quasi-privacy to say it.

“What about your folks?” Jamie finally looked back at Y/n, nudging her elbow a little.

That was worse, Y/n decided. Far worse.

“Uh,” she stalled, there was no choice but to answer, “We don’t really talk, to be honest.”

“Why not?” Jamie didn’t hesitate to ask.

Y/n inhaled deeply, blowing the air out with puffed cheeks. It was a piece of her history that she’d left in America, sending it into silent submission the second she stepped foot in London.

“We just…” Y/n shrugged, “Don’t have a relationship. Never have.”

Jamie’s brows dropped in confusion, “What’re you, like, adopted or somethin’?”

“Nope,” Y/n’s lips popped around the syllable, “They’ve just…never had any interest in their kids. Me and my sister, we kind of raised ourselves.”

“Fuck,” Jamie muttered, realizing he had definitely dug too deep. It was too late to back out though, their secrets were spilling themselves out. Better to lean into it than try and patch the all too massive leaks.

Y/n bitterly chuckled over her tea cup, “Yeah.”

Jamie absorbed what she said, leaning on his knees now. It was like he had to take a defensive position up a past that was nowhere near, yet all around him. If Y/n was going to be honest, the least he could do was match it.

“My dad and I,” he started, picking at a loose corner of the cardboard around his cup, “We kinda got in a fight. Earlier this year.”

Y/n turned to face Jamie, thinking he meant an entirely normal type of argument.

“Came back to the locker room after we lost a match,” he continued the story, “Talked a bunch of shit. Got ugly and…” Jamie hesitated, his fist feeling the phantom pain of the confrontation, “Yeah…”

Y/n’s lips parted in gentle shock, he didn’t need to finish for the meaning to come across.

Jamie could feel her eyes resting on him and found the strength to meet them. The tight smile across his face didn’t match the story, but it felt necessary. He sat back, hating the silence they were wading in.

“My parents never yelled. Not because me and my sister were perfect angels or anything, but…they just didn’t care enough to get that emotional,” Y/n admitted before she could even realize the vulnerability in which she said it with, “I mean, there was nothing we could do to even get them to pay attention to us. No recitals, no science fairs, no achievements…nothing. So long as they kept a roof over our heads and kept us breathing, they felt they were doing enough of a job.”

Jamie scoffed, bitter for both of them. “Me dad couldn’t be bothered to show up to any matches. Not when I were a kid.”

“What about when you went pro?” Y/n asked.

“Only in Manchester,” Jamie answered, “Screamin’ at me on and off the pitch that I were doin’ it wrong.”

Y/n traced the curve of Jamie’s jaw with her eyes, watching it clench. He made sense. For the first time since they’d met, he made total sense. You couldn’t go through a childhood like his and not come out with something to prove.

Their conversation became an exchange. One would share and, to make the other feel not so vulnerable, the other would chime in. “Once me and my sister could cook for ourselves, get jobs,” Y/n countered Jamie’s revelation, “My parents were even more done. It’s the main reason I came to England. To get away from them.”

Jamie was fully engaged now, his body turned to face Y/n as she matched his honesty. He knew all about running away.

“I worked so hard in school to get As, extracurricular stuff, anything I could,” Y/n gestured to the air with her cup, “So I could get out.”

“Yeah,” Jamie interjected, his memory sliding back to mornings before dawn spent on the pitch near his childhood home. He’d been just as relentless then as he was now. “Can’t tell you how many fuckin’ hours I spent just…tryin’ to get good. Tryin’ to do something he couldn’t touch.”

Whatever tolerance Y/n and Jamie had start with had long since morphed to a sort of comfortable acquaintanceship. It felt like, without ever moving from their bench, they had made some grand leap into kinship. They were both members of a club neither of them had asked to be in. With their shit spilled out on the ground before them, there was so very little left for them to hide.

“Y’know they’ve never visited me?” Y/n said softly, catching the shock on Jamie’s face out the corner of her eye, “Not once. I’ve been here since I was eighteen…not even for my graduation.”

Jamie watched with sadness as Y/n tried to hide hers. Once they found one another, it felt like there was nothing else to do but…laugh. It was one of those, this is our life laughs. Here we are, our families don’t love us, and it’s not right but here we are. Gentle and faded, but still unbelieving.

“Think we did pretty good,” Jamie said, “Yeah?”

Y/n’s smile came back, she’d allowed Jamie to cross so many of her self-drawn lines and she’d believed it had simply been out of convenience. No, there was something about him she’d only ever recognized in herself. Resilience. “Resentment’s a tremendous motivator, isn’t it?”

Jamie smirked at Y/n, wondering how he’d gravitated towards her knowing just the best, only to find out they had the worst in common. They were both a little broken, and it certainly felt better to be broken with someone else than by himself.

“I’ll drink to that,” he smiled, the two of their paper cups knocking into one another.

————————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan

#ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #heartfirst

[maxislvt]

https://www.tumblr.com/maxislvt/718963485407576064/pervy-student-wanda-thats-constantly-bothering

oh this! her accidentally blushing her hand against your bulge or sneaking into the teachers bathrooms just to corner professor!r

warnings: smut, unspecified age gap, amab!reader

she's such a freak and a pervert, I have Thoughts about her

She isn't the slightest but shy about her feelings for you and all her friends have to suffer the consequences. I just imagine her as one of those people that call their older crushes like "blorbo" and shit like that. All her friends think she's fucking delusional 😭

wanda: they're so babygirl with their little coffee order and pastry :(

natasha: are you aware that your "babygirl" pays taxes

sam: I hope they're married with at least 3 kids

wanda: I'll be a great stepmom!

You can tell Wanda has feelings for you, but don't really say anything. You've been teaching for so long that you just accept that at least one person you teach is going to want a relationship with that's not entirely appropriate, even if it's just them wanting to be friendlier than they should.

A lot of Wanda's Deranged is from a distance at first. Maybe you caught vulgarly offering you a blowjob but it was in the middle of class and there were 50 other people in the room so you assumed she was joking around into her friends. (it was entirely directed at you)

After a while, she gets really bold and decides to be more up front. However, she's completely insane so this manifests as her "accidentally" sending you a very detailed love letter in place of a writing assignment. You're flustered as all hell but find it actually impossible to stop reading. It's so horny that you end up rock hard by the end of it.

You just email Wanda telling her to resend the proper assignment and don't mention it. Wanda can tell you've read because you can't even look at her. She takes this as you just being shy so she just keeps pressing your buttons. Her clothes get tighter, more revealing, and a lot shorter. You're ashamed to admit it catches your attention every time. Wanda comes to your office hours and you're absolutely useless because you're just a stuttering mess

Wanda can only wait so long before her perverted tendencies get to the best of her. That's exactly how you end up fucking her over your desk the first time. It's literally the last time you have any control in that relationship. You were just so pent up and frustrated — it seemed like the best solution in a weird way

Obliviously giving her what she wants doesn't make her stop. Wanda just wiggles her freaky little way into your heart and boxers but you grow to love her despite how unhinged she can be at times. Wanda does have pretty serious feelings and once you start to accept her affection it just grows. She plans out little dates and trips for when breaks start. They're a bit out of the way for secrecy sake but they're all worth it

The only exception to that secrecy whatever unhinged and deranged information she sent to her friends

wanda: ttyl, gonna take professor ___ on a date later than eat their ass

carol: I asked if you wanted to go see the new mission impossible???

Wanda takes you to an arcade for your first date together. It's technically a little creepy because you've only talked about liking videogames and stuff like that once and it was during the first class you'd ever taught Wanda in. The two of you have fun, especially you because you absolutely smoke Wanda at all the games. (the subsequent ass eating was a little passive aggressive though)

You may be older but Wanda definitely takes the lead during sex. She'll hide under your desk when you don't have a class just to edge you while you're grading papers. Wanda won't let you cum unless you've graded a certain number of assignments before her next period. It does wonders for your productivity.

Wanda wants you to call her some title of authority in bed. She's shooting for you to call her mommy but she'd settle for something like a master/mistress. You refuse to call her mommy because she's younger than you but she makes you see the error of your ways eventually. (she edges you until you give in)

Wanda loves using toys on you, especially when she's pegging you because you get so overstimulated fast. You're normally so composed and professional all the time, and she wants to be the only one to see you an absolutely mess.

She tried putting you in a cock cage once but it lasted all of one day. Surprisingly, she's the hornier one between the two of you and it just kept getting in the way of what she wanted to do to you. Wanda does occasionally threaten you with when you're being too prudish

Unrelated but Wanda accidentally graduates with a minor in whatever you teach because she kept taking your class every year 😭

#panther speaks #anon #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff headcanons #panthers headcanons

[solarisensun]

OKAY what about big brother Suguru and his weird friend Satoru who sits a little too close and let's his touches linger a little too long. Suguru-nii's friend who insists you call him Nii-chan too because he's over at your place so much he's basically your brother anyway. "O-Okay... Nii-chan." you whisper as he pulls you in for another hug.

You tell Suguru you don't really like how touchy he is but he ignores your worries. "He's just friendly." or "He just loves you as much as I do." You learn to avoid Satoru as often as you can.

But it's impossible to remove your self proclaimed brother from your life. In fact, he gets more and more overbearing.

Until one day you wake up naked with Satoru inbetween your legs kissing all up from between your thighs, over your stomach and to your face. You scream for Suguru who enters with a sigh, berating Satoru for waking you up so suddenly.

You start to struggle but you're tied to the bed. You realise you don't recognise the room at all, it's dark and covered in photos of you that you never knew were taken. Photos of you sleeping, in the bathroom, out of friends. Clothes you're missing, panties that had disappeared, all presented around the room.

Now they can protect you from all the weirdos on the outside forever in their secret hideout. ❤️

warnings: step-incest, NSFW, noncon, yandere themes (whats new), i got a little carried away w this

suguru appears to be the lesser of two evils. whilst your new brother is aloof and stoic, you appreciate the fact that he keeps to himself most of the time. though you often feel scrutinized under his cold, calculating gaze, suguru has never once overstepped his boundaries.

the same cannot be said for his best friend.

to say that gojo satoru makes you uncomfy is the least of your worries. initially, you'd brushed off his hugs as nothing more but an attribute to his outgoing personality. but that doesn't explain the casual kisses he presses to your cheek- close enough that his lips brush the corner of your mouth, his bold fingers toying with your collar, the hem of your skirt, the occasional explicit picture that somehow 'accidentally' slides into your messages at 3am.

and the fact that he'd squeeze your cheeks between his fingers until you give him a meek 'nii-chan'

after weeks of putting up with gojo's antics, you finally muster up the courage to knock on your brother's door. suguru is as unmoving as a rock as you tell him about gojo. the more you blabber on, the more insignificant you feel under your brother's narrow gaze.

suguru simply shrugs when you are done with your tale. one look into his dark gaze tells you that you will gain no sympathy here. "gojo has always been friendlier than most." he waves a hand in the air to dismiss your concerns. "you're reading too much into it."

"besides, what would you have me do?" suguru questions pointedly as his gaze hardens. "tell him off like he's a kid?" his voice is filled with irritation. 

“i-” you begin. “he’s harmless,” suguru cuts in before you can finish. “are we done? i have matters to deal with.” 

immediately, you shrivel up. the hurt look on your face causes suguru’s glare to soften just the slightest bit. “don’t worry about gojo.” in a rare moment of softness, suguru tucks your hair behind your ear. the whisper of his fingertips against your cheek prompts a shiver to run down your spine. the dark look in suguru’s eyes is indiscernable. “i’ll talk to him about it.” 

the next day, gojo corners you against the wall the moment you dare to step out of your room. before you can even flinch, both his arms have closed around you, keeping you boxed under him and left with no choice but to stare into his crystalline blues.

"heard you ran your mouth about me yesterday," gojo muses. immediately, your breath hitches at the implication behind his words. "painted me out to be a nasty pervert, didn't you?"

"n-no!" you shake your head frantically. "i didn't say that."

"yeah?" gojo cocks his head with a grin that's a little too wide. "that's not what i heard. you really hurt my feelings you know. don't you know that i've always protected you like my lil sister?"

all sense of bravado that you'd embodied yesterday fades into thin air the moment gojo leans in. "you gotta make it up to me," he tells you in gleeful tone that doesn't sound the slightest bit hurt.

"how?" you ask wobbly, anything to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

gojo smiles down at you. "give me a kiss."

when you lean in to peck his cheek, he tuts you. "on the lips, darling."

"what?"

the stunned look on your face prompts gojo to sigh. without warning, without permission, his long fingers cup around your chin and he angles his head down to press his lips against yours. despite your pathetic attempts to pull free, gojo simply takes your muffled whimpers and the way your fingers fist around his shirt as a sign to lean even further down. 

it almost felt as if he needed the breath that you were holding, like it belonged to him. there was nothing gentle about the way your back slams against the wall as gojo takes your face between his large hands. dimly, you register a low groan that rumbles at the back of his throat before he pulls away. 

looking at him scares you. the way his pupils have been blown out so wide that you can see your own distorted reflection in them. the imprint of his fingers seem to burn into your skin. 

he lets out a little breathless laugh, the grip around your face tightens like he’s restraining himself from doing anything more. “that was a kiss that i wanted.” 

you flinch when gojo leans in closer, half expecting something to happen again. instead, he merely whispers into your ear, “see you tomorrow night.” 

#thirst hours #jjk thirsts #getou suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #🍳. satoru #🍳. suguru

[dollfaceksj]

YES CONTINUE A POSION PARADISE

YERRRRR lets go

tell me ur thoughts! <3

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #4

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

it’s jimin’s party today

[a/n: i been obsessed w this outfit so i imagine reader wearing sth like this cause its so cute idc if u dont like it]

you go there by foot bc it’s not that far, like a 10 min walk

your feet in these heels are killing you but it doesn’t matter when you look that good

once you arrive, jimin pulls you in for a hug, thanking you for coming

ur not THATTT close w jimin, ur closer w joon and tae

but ur still on friendly terms w jimin

at least way friendlier than jk

its not awkward between u and jimin and u often talk abt ur love for cats and pop culture

unlike u and jk. u can count the amount of convos u’ve had with that loser on one hand and half of those were this month

jimin leads you to taehyung and unfortunately

jungkook is sitting

right beside tae

jk’s wearing a leather jacket and black jeans. his hair is wavy and there are silver rings decorating his pretty fingers

you haven’t seen them since that evening at tae’s and it’s been 3 days since

tae texted u a couple times but ur replies were pretty short to him

and u feel kinda bad

cause its not taes fault??

but ur stubborn. and stupid

tae hands jungkook his solo cup and jumps up from the couch, lunging straight at you

he hugs you tightly, swaying with you from left to right

“i’m glad you made it! all these people are boring,” taehyung says into your ear, squeezing your frame

you chuckle and pull away, hitting his shoulder

he holds you back by your shoulders. “you look good. you came to break hearts.” he nudges your hip with his

he’s soooo annoying

but the compliment is rising to your head

your relationship w tae is like a brother or cousin

he’ll only tell you you look good if you actually look good

and he’ll tell you if you look like shit

“come, sit with us,” he says as he makes some extra space on the couch. he takes the seat next to jungkook

thats when you remember that jungkook is here.

you pretend you don’t notice him though

and he seems to be doing the same thing

asshole.

you don’t really feel like drinking tonight so you decline tae’s offer of getting you something to drink

you spend the next twenty minutes listening to tipsy taehyung rambling about his call of duty wins

yawn

you get up and tae instantly tugs on your wrist

“where u going?”

you sigh. “bathroom. i’ll be right back.”

he nods and lets go of your wrist, turning to jungkook to continue his uninteresting conversation

you push your way through the sea of sweaty and smelly bodies

there’s a pair making out in front of the bathroom door so you push past them as well and enter the bathroom

you lock the door and take care of your business

you wash your hands and glance at yourself in the mirror, fixing your makeup a bit before turning on your heels and unlocking the door

just as you unlock the door, the door swings open

uhh

you did not do that

like u did not open the door it just swung open on its own.

in that split second you think it’s someone who desperately needs to use the bathroom

but your heart drops straight into your ass when you make eyecontact

with

jeon

jung

fucking

kook

THE FUCKKK

you can’t even understand what’s happening

you can barely react

when jungkook

suddenly

and gently

pushes you back into the bathroom by your waist

his hands are respectfully placed but it still sends a shiver up your spine and down all your limbs

haha

wow

😂😂😂😂

jungkooks hands on your waist for a few seconds

who wouldve thought

he walks in and shuts the door behind him

and you know you’re not going crazy but was that… the click

of

the

door

locking????

did he just? lock the door??

you look up at him, lips parted but not a single word on your tongue for him

he leans against the closed door and shoves his hands into his pockets

you frown at him, confused on why he’s trapping you in the bathroom

“what the hell, dude?” your annoyance is clear in the tone of your voice

cause what the HELL jungkook???

“i couldn’t find any other proper moment to come talk to you,” he says but you can’t bring yourself to believe him when he’s got a shit-eating grin on his lips

you roll your tongue against the inside of your cheek and cross your arms over your chest. “talk?”

what could he possibly want to talk about with you???

“yeah. i said i didn’t like you but i hope you know it was a joke. i’m sorry it didn’t come across that way.”

you drag your eyes slowly down his figure, hoping you look like you’re judging the fuck out of him

but he doesn’t react

in

the

slightest

“is that all?” you ask as you make eye contact with him again.

he stares at you for a moment longer before pushing himself off the door, closing the distance between you two

you automatically take a step back but your bum is already pressed against the sink, leaving you with nowhere to go

fuck

FUCK

why is he getting closer still

he stops right in front of you, tips of his shoes touching yours

body menacingly looming over yours, making you tilt your chin to look up at him

he stares you down, tongue playing with the double lip rings in the corner of his bottom lip

fuck he’s hot

like fuck. he’s so hot

he says, “tae was right, you know.”

you scrunch your brows together and struggle to find your voice. you compose yourself quickly though

“about?”

he answers right away. “you look real fucking good.”

ah

hahahahahah

hahahahahahahahahahahaha

😂😂😂😂😂😂

right right

😂😂😂😂

so funny.

his voice is so sultry and the way he’s staring you down like he’s enjoying the view. like he wants to devour you whole

it almost makes your knees buckle

GIRL GET IT TOGETHER

he’s literally your junior be serious

you try to stand your ground

no you HAVE to

the fuck you look like being weak in front of this little shit

“thanks. anything else?”

wowww bitchy much?

he stares at you for a moment longer before shaking his head. “nope.”

“good. get out of my way then.” you wave your fingers back and forth to tell him to get lost

he chuckles and steps aside, watching as you push past him and leave him to stare at your retreating ass

you make your way back to where tae was but he’s gone

of course he is

you look around the room, annoyed with all the people dancing and shoving up against you

all of a sudden, a hand on your shoulder makes you slightly jump

you turn and see tae

PHEWWW thought u were gonna get harassed or something

“y/n, you haven’t drank anything yet, right?” he slurs his words and you roll your eyes

this can only mean he wants you to do something

“jungkook wants to go home but he has a speaker jimin really wants. do you mind walking home with him and bringing the speaker back with you?”

what

literally what😭

“please?” he says as soon as he sees the doubt on your face

you sigh, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. “i can’t believe you’re asking me to do that.”

he frowns. “what? i’ve asked you to come to my place at night too.”

“i’m not talking about walking at night, i’m talking about making me go with jungkook.”

“he hasn’t apologized yet?”

huh

how’d he know jk was going to apologize?

“how do you know he wanted to apologize?”

“because it’s jungkook.” he rubs his nose and looks around before looking back at you. “have you ever seen him at a party before? he came to this party just to apologize to you cause he knew you’d come and he wouldn’t have another opportunity. that’s why he’s already leaving despite only having been here for like half an hour.”

you don’t know if that’s just tae being drunk or if he’s actually telling you the truth

bc why

why is that

so

sweet?

were you being dramatic? 😭😭

for being mean to him??

over something so silly

u kinda were lowkey babes.

you sigh softly.

“alright.”

to be continued

<- previous ; next ->

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#how are feeling babies #😁😁😁 #let me know ur thoughts plsss <3 #clover over #clover’s drabble series: toapp | jjk #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x oc #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook drabble #jungkook smut

[crybaby-bkg]

okay but like....low key kinda creepy landlord gojo who is just a bit too friendly with you, his new tenant.

he's been renting out his home in some far away spot, secluded from most of society. you thought it was more like a temporary situation, a getaway spot for a week or two, but after discussing more over the phone, you find out that its quite the opposite. the landlord, Gojo he calls himself, tells you that the place is up for leasing if you really wanna stay there. that he'd even cut the price of rent for you after confessing that its a bit out of your price range month-to-month.

you should've seen his eagerness as a red flag, that you, a lonesome body by yourself, would be living in this big space all alone for god knows how long. should've been a little worried with how much he lowered the rent, his urgency to move you in as soon as possible. even offering up his own hand to help you move things in.

but, it's something about a pretty face that just disarms you.

landlord gojo that walks you through the space after you first sign the lease. he's pretty in the face and tall with too big hands and too pretty dimples and grin. he's full of wit and charm and flirty little jokes, makes you fantasize about where he's been intimate in this home before renting it, and if he would return to his roots for you.

landlord gojo that pops in occasionally, knocking a few times and waiting for you to let him and the store brought cookies inside the warmth of the house. he brings you expensive wine and little knickknacks he's collected on his job trips, and you think he's a little friendlier than a landlord should be. but you don't mind; he's kind and he gives you the best company during your prolonged stay away from the busy city life.

but also - landlord gojo who breaks into your house when you’re not home. but is it really breaking in though, when he owns the place? is he really doing something bad by letting himself in, when this is technically his property?

maybe letting himself in isn't so bad - but going through your things is. it starts off innocently enough, with him rummaging through your fridge to see if you ate the plate of cheese and crackers and grapes he brought you two days ago. then he looks through the photo album you hide under the coffee table, and then your cabinets and then -

and then your dresser drawers. finds himself holding up baby blue lace panties with a delicate trim, the shade closest to his eye color. he pockets those, but goes for the real gold after that - your dirty laundry hamper.

maybe he is wrong for resting in your bed with his head buried in your pillow to gather your scent while fisting his cock with your used panties wrapped around his shaft. sue him! you shouldn't be such a fucking cock tease with your sweet texts to him whenever there's a leak in the bathroom and your soft eyes whenever he grins at you. shouldn't be so fucking intoxicating with your addictive smelling perfume and plush looking tits that he knows would smell even better.

with a grunt, gojo cums in the panties he's holding tight around his cock, huffing through his nose at the intensity of it all. and after sitting there for what feels like forever, he cleans himself off with a stuffed bunny on your bed. he hopes you find the little treat he's left you, crusted and white and smelling of him. he hopes you find it, panicked and scared, and call him to tell him that someones broke in. that you need saving, that you need him to stay there with you and make sure you're safe.

maybe then he'll reveal that he never moved out of the house in the first place.

#ive been very depressed for the past like 8 months bc of grief and such #and ive found it hard to like read and write and interact with creative works #but for the past day ive been reading a lot more and I forgot how much it helps with writing! #HUZZAH!!! #anyway lol I hope you all enjoyed this #I like him creepy and a little unhinged I fear #I have another bkg wip but idk if ill write it tonight bc im still tryna word it lol #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #gojo treats! 🍬

[the-badger-mole]

The Volunteer Part 5

With Ty Lee and Haru there to help, sorting through the clothes was short work. To fill the rest of the time, they amused themselves with tossing teasing jabs at Zuko as they counted down to the end of their shift.

"Knock it off!" Zuko said, tossing a pair of balled up socks at Haru's head. "It's just dinner with a friend."

"There's a thin line between friend and friendlier," Haru snickered.

"You still have a few minutes, Zuko," Ty Lee pointed to the clock on the wall. "Don't you want to run a comb through your hair or something?" Zuko scowled at Ty Lee and reached up to touch his hair self-consciously. Ty Lee exchanged an annoyingly knowing look with Haru before guiding him out of the room.

"We should go," she stage whispered to Haru. "Zuko doesn't want us to know he cares about how he looks for Katara." Zuko found another pair of socks and threw them at Ty Lee. She only laughed harder when they hit her back, as she ushered Haru away. Zuko was still scowling after they were gone. He sniffed indignantly and picked up the socks he'd thrown, tossing them back into the pile of clothes to be washed. Then he went to the bathroom to straighten out his hair. He wore the Hama's Haven tee-shirt with an old, worn and paint spattered pair of jeans with his scuffiest sneakers. Not a great look, admittedly, but since this wasn't a date, it was fine, he thought. He made one final pass over his hair before he hurried out to meet Katara.

She was waiting in front of the building. Zuko skidded to a halt when he saw her. She had taken her hair down from it's usual braid, letting it fall all the way down her back in tumultuous waves. She also wore the light blue volunteer tee-shirt, but tucked into her jeans in a way that accentuated her soft curves. The dying light of twilight cast her in an ethereal glow, making her eyes seem to almost gleam when they landed on him. Zuko's mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard, trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. It wasn't fair for her to look this good after hours of working.

"You ready to go?" Katara asked, smiling up at him.

This was not a date.

"Yeah," Zuko managed to say. He led Katara to his car and opened her door for her.

"So gallant," she giggled. Zuko's face burned with embarrassment. He took a deep breath as he walked around to the driver's side and climbed in.

This was not a date.

Zuko was worried he'd have nothing to say for himself, but Katara started the conversation off and intentionally or not, never let it slow down. They spend the drive over talking about their day at the shelter. She asked about his new assignment, and apologized for it not being more exciting. Apologized that the work he was doing as punishment for a crime wasn't more engaging.

"I put you and Ty Lee down for the field trip next week," she told him. "I don't know if you'll find it interesting, but it sure won't be boring."

"When you say it like that it makes me think I should be nervous," Zuko chuckled. He chanced a look over at her and found her grinning wickedly.

"Maybe a little," she said. "But don't worry. The kids don't bite...often."

The noodle shop was a little hole-in-the-wall that Zuko had never heard of. It looked appropriately casual for two friends to have dinner after work. Still, Zuko hurried to Katara's door to open it for her, and he was pleased to see a faint blush on her bronzy cheeks.

"A girl could get used to that," she said. Zuko shrugged sheepishly and shut her door behind her.

"My uncle drilled it into me," he told her. "It's a hard habit to break. It's why I don't usually give rides in my car."

"Well, thanks for making an exception," Katara laughed.

They were seated immediately, and given menus. Katara set hers aside and took a drink from her water glass. Zuko must have looked confused because she winked conspiratorially.

"This is one of my favorite places in town," she said. "I could recite the menu in my sleep." Zuko hurried to make his own choice, and after the waiter had taken their orders, he scrambled for something half-way interesting to say.

"How long have you been volunteering at the shelter?" Zuko asked.

"Years," Katara told him. "My grandmother is one of the founders. It was actually named after a friend of my grandmother's."

"It was?"

"Yeah," Katara sighed and shook her head. "She never got to see it, though. Hama, that is. My grandma knew Hama before she moved here and married my grandfather. Gran-Gran said that she and Hama stayed in touch for a little while, but then...life happened. They reconnected a few years before Hama died, and life had been tough on her. I'll spare you the gory details, but...Hama could've used a place like the shelter. When my grandmother found her again, she was sick and homeless. Gran-Gran brought her here to live with her. After she died, Gran-Gran decided to honor her memory and started the shelter. My mom was a social worker, and she helped Gran-Gran get the shelter off the ground. My brother and I started out playing with the kids there.

"That's incredible," Zuko said. "I've been here long, but I can see how much of an impact the shelter has had. You've got to be proud of how much good your family's done."

"It's not just us," Katara said. "We've had so many volunteers and supporters helping us- helping my grandmother- make Hama's Haven happen. But, you know that. Your uncle's been one of our biggest doners since it opened."

"What?" Zuko sat up.

"Didn't you know?" Katara frowned at that. "I thought you were close. I thought you knew that was why Iroh asked the judge to assign you guys here." Zuko shook his head.

"I...I haven't spoken to my uncle in a while," he admitted. "We were close, and I know he did a lot of work with community outreach, but I never knew the specifics."

"Oh..."Katara bit her lip and looked away awkwardly. "I've met your uncle. He's a nice guy."

"Yeah," Zuko agreed with a mirthless chuckle. "He's great."

"He's really proud of you, you know." Zuko flinched at that. He was certain that Iroh was proud of him. Once.

"I miss him," Zuko admitted. Then to his surprise, Katara reached across the table and squeezed his hands.

"Talk to him," she said. "I don't know what happened, but if you talk to him about it, I'm sure you can work it out." Dumbstruck, all Zuko could do was nod. Fortunately, he was spared having to say a word by the arrival of their food.

This was not a date!

Thankfully the subject changed once the meal had arrived. Zuko learned about Katara's family (like him, she had lost her mother young. Unlike him, she had a wonderful support system in her father and brother); her plans for college (she wanted to continue her grandmother and mother's work in community outreach and social justice); what she liked to do in her free time (she keeps incredibly busy between after school activities and the center, but she was an avid ice skater, hiker and had started taking scuba lessons). Zuko found her fascinating. She was nothing like the stuck up brown noser he and his sister had been certain she was.

She asked about Zuko, too, but aside from school and a couple of extracurriculars, he had little to say about himself. He didn't want to talk about his family, and he was grateful when Katara didn't pry. He was in such a good mood that he offered to cover their meal when the bill came.

"Alright," Katara relented after all her protests had been shot down. "But this means that dessert is on me."

"Dessert?" Zuko repeated.

"There's an ice cream shop around the corner that makes the most amazing flavors," Katara told him. "Things you'd never have even thought of. It's my favorite place in the city." Zuko raised his brow and smirked at her.

"I thought this was your favorite place in the city."

"It's my favorite noodle spot," Katara said, rolling her eyes. "I'm allowed to have more than one favorite spots."

"That's not how favoritism works," Zuko chuckled.

"You have your definition, I have mine," Katara shrugged. She slid out of her seat and tugged at Zuko's arm. "Come on!"

The ice cream shop was a bit further away than Katara had let on. It was nearly half a mile from where Zuko had left his car, but the night was nice. After they'd gotten their ice cream (paid for by Katara at her insistence), they walked back slowly. The ice cream was as good as Katara had promised. Zuko had gotten a cone of spicy mango and chocolate, and Katara had gotten sweet corn and cheesecake, a combination she swore was delicious.

"Here," she said, holding her up towards Zuko. "Try it." Zuko hesitated, but gingerly scraped his spoon down the side. To his surprise, Katara was right.

"Wow!" he said.

"Don't ever doubt me."

"Never again," Zuko swore. When Katara held up her cup again, he took another scoop, before offering her a taste of his.

"Mmm!" Katara said, nodding her head. "I don't usually like spicy, but this is just the right amount of heat."

They sat on a bench halfway back to Zuko's car to finish their treats. Zuko surprised himself by telling a few jokes that actually made Katara laugh. He liked her laugh. He never thought that a laugh could be attractive, but Katara's was. It was a bit wild, like someone who's never been given a reason to be self-conscious about her laugh. Who was used to laughing long and loud. When she laughed hard enough, she snorted, which was Zuko's favorite.

Finally, they finished their ice cream and headed back to Zuko's car. It was late, and Hakoda would expect her home soon. They weren't hurried, though. They took long enough that Zuko had time to work up the nerve to ask something he was certain would ruin the night.

"Was this a date?"

Katara's footsteps faltered, then slowed. She kept her gaze studiously on her feet. Her jaw rolled from side to side, as if she were weighing her next words carefully on her tongue, working out how to let them out in a way that wouldn't kill their nascent friendship. Zuko felt the blood rush to his face, and he started to back track. There had to be a way to take his words back and return to the easy camaraderie they'd found that evening. Katara beat him to the punch, though.

"If I said yes," she said slowly, "would you be okay with that?" Zuko froze mid-step. Katara stopped and looked back at him. The expression on her face was mix of nervousness, shyness and frankness. There was no amusement. No sparkle in her eye to mark what she'd just said as a joke. Zuko managed to wrestle control of his tongue.

"Yeah," he said. "I'd be okay with that." Katara considered him for a moment. Then she smiled at him, and slipped her hand into his. It fit so well, as if it was always meant for him to hold.

"The weather is getting nice," she observed, leaning into him. "We'll be able to start turning the garden soon. Maybe we can put you on that."

"That sounds nice," Zuko murmured. His heart thudded in his chest. He thought that his answer would've been the same even if she'd suggested he clean out the dumpsters behind the building with a toothbrush.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

#atla #zutara #volunteer au #THE YEAR OF CONTENT!!!!

[yellowbunnydreams]

Mechanised Devotion (Part 4) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~You're all so lovely honestly, and honestly I know we are all simping over large hot killer man, but who gives a fuck but it is so fun to write! I hope that you enjoy this part as well, sorry for some more slow burn :). Also, enjoy some animatronic fluff cause why not?~

Tag List!: @ruh--roh-raggy @likoplays

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships. Nicknames, degredation.

For the past three nights you had been attempting to call Steve Raglan.

However, it never seemed to go anywhere but to the voicemail, hearing his warm, but tired voice saying to leave a message after the tone and he would get back to you as soon as he could. That felt like an utter lie as you hung up the phone for the fifth time that day to call him. Looking at the clock with somewhat despair as you realised it was time to make the long walk back to Freddy's once again.

Despite what had happened, you had been unable to get ahold of Steve to tell him about it, and the thought of being in that pizzaria filled you with dread. Somehow, you had managed to make it for three more nights, and tonight was your last shift of the week.

You'd figured out a few things since you arrived.

Freddy and the yellow one you recognised as Chica now seemed to be somewhat 'friendlier' than the others. Freddy would move quite early on in the night and had taken to peering into the little window of your office door to make sure you were okay, taking up residence at the end of the hallway and watching as you came in and out. You'd also noticed your drawing you gave to him roughly tacked up behind the stage when you made your initial inspection for the night, which made you smile despite your rapidly beating heart.

Chica seemed somewhat confused at first, she kept dropping off items outside your door like some demented robotic delivery service. Sometimes it was a surprisingly in-date bag of chips, but most of the time it had gone out of date in the nineties. You felt bad, wondering whether it was programming gone haywire.

Foxy remained an asshole, he liked to stare at you through the window and drag the hook along the door, trying to catch the handle and let himself inside. You'd brought one of those sticks that sits under the handle and acts as a heavy duty door stop, which seemed to deter him somewhat, although you weren't sure with how heavy they surely were that it would truly buy you any time if any of them decided you'd met your time.

Sometimes you would draw instead of doing your homework and checking the cameras, placing them against the glass so the animatronics would see. You made a point to keep one of Foxy being mean to you on you incase he lingered too long at your door and you needed to get out for a few moments to use the bathroom. For whatever reason, it seemed to make him move on after staring at it with the one intact eye, eyepatch and ears moving before it was almost like he stomped off in a huff.

You had managed to make the job somewhat easier for yourself, but it didn't mean you wanted to continue working in a restaurant filled with malfunctioning robots with at least a minor penchant for violence.

Coming through the door, you noticed how eerily silent it was. Pulling back the thick red velvet curtain and waving at the animatronics cautiously. You hadn't really seen Bonnie around that much, but you were quick to spot the slight flicker of their lids and a faint creak of limbs as it seemed they powered up, waiting to roam around the open space. You even stopped by Pirate's Cove and opened the curtain slightly, jumping as you found Foxy leant forwards and mouth agape, almost at your head height. Hand over heart as you tried to calm down your nerves, you found yourself breathing heavily.

"Asshole." you muttered, blowing a strand of hair out of your face before you headed to the office again. Planting the door stop under the handle and securing it. Glancing at the monitors as you flicked on the breaker, you gave a satisfied nod as they came on as expected. Sitting at your chair and keeping an intense eye on the animatronics as you waited for them to start their fuckery.

But as the first hour crawled by, you began to worry. Even cautiously peeking out of your door and checking for one of the mascots. Nothing.

Something felt off.

Stepping back into the office, you noticed one of the cameras was down suddenly, making you frown. The cameras were ancient, sure, but you had never seen one receive 'no signal' like that, and part of you wanted to go and check what it was that had made it play up but a creeping, cold feeling in your stomach told you to stay where you were. Safe. Or at least, relatively so.

Steve Raglan, or rather, the man who pretended to be Steve Raglan had slipped inside the pizzeria in the earlier hours of the afternoon. And he had waited oh-so-patiently for his prey to wander in obliviously into his trap. He'd been monitoring you for days, growing irritated as you called and called, but he wasn't about to give you the satisfaction of answering. He knew you would quit before he even had a chance to turn on the charm and sweet-talk you into continuing, and honestly, he was intrigued how you managed to figure out that drawings helped to control the animatronics.

Or it was simply a clever, clever fluke.

But as he ran his gloved fingers over the knife in his hands, he grinned under the mask, none of it mattered in that moment. You were about to be his, and his stupid child had failed in her duties once again. Something pitiful about getting shot on the job and having to take medical leave. His hand automatically moved to where his collar usually covered and thought of the scars that would be there, how painful it had been when they had been inflicted on him so many years ago, but he had managed to go to work the next day still. He blamed Vanessa's mother for her weakness.

Stalking through the blind-spots of the cameras, he made his way towards the office, his footsteps light despite the heavy suit around his body. He felt his heart pounding in his broad chest, and if his eyes were visible, he was sure they would have almost been pinpricks as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. Carefully peeking in, he noticed your intense concentration on the cameras and tried the handle quietly. Pausing as it didn't fall open, confused as to why it wasn't budging. Peering back in, he could just make out the door jam, and this time he really swore. Adrenaline mixing with fury that you would spoil his reveal like that.

Moving away like a shadow, he searched around for an alternative. He was growing impatient. He wanted to break you. The doors were all locked up and he had the key at the moment, you never stood a chance of escaping from him. But there was a begrudging respect that you had managed to think of something so stupidly simple that it never occurred to him.

As he turned the corner into one of the staff corridoors, he spotted a solution and grinned coldly.

You were soon going to be his.

~~ It was around 4am when your head snapped up, looking towards the door as you swore you saw something moving nearby from the corner of your eye. A chill sliding down your spine like an ice-cube as the feeling of being watched suddenly came over you.

Then you heard it, it was faint at first, but grew louder as you paused and tried to place the noise. It was the sound of something heavy moving, but it wasn't like the usual footsteps you heard outside your door when Freddy and Co. moved around, this was something...odd. Echoey almost.

After another few moments, you realised it was definately movement, and looked around for the source, before spotting a vent with the cover missing on the floor next to you. Cautiously, you grabbed your flashlight and knelt down besides it, straining to listen as you tried to think what could be making the noise.

'Probably just a rat.' you thought to yourself. About to stand up before you spotted two white eyes glowing out of the dark, coming around a bend in the vent, moving slowly, painfully forwards with a soft 'shush' of fabric moving across metal.

Hands trembling, you flicked on your flashlight and felt yourself choke on your breath as the yellow and damaged features of an animatronic came into view. The fur matted and slightly broken in some places, eyes half-lidded and blank as they stared at you. crawling itself through the small space towards your office.

You dropped the light and screamed as a distorted laugh emanated from the creature. The man inside the suit savoured the sound with a delighted shudder, his heart pounding harder in his chest as he managed to pull himself out head first into the office. His massive frame slow to rise as he unfurled himself to reveal his nearly 7ft height in the Spring Bonnie costume. Not that you knew it's name. Nor did you really know his.

Scrambling for the door, you tried to prize away the door jam, but your fingers kept slipping and unable to turn it so it could release. Body shaking as your own adrenaline worked overtime to try and help you escape. But a heavy weight against your back suddenly slamming into you took your breath away and left your hands trapped against the solid door.

The pressure moved, and you felt a heavy hand pressing against the back of your neck, pinning you by your throat as you tried to reach back and grip the thick animatronic fingers holding you in place.

At the edge of your vision, you saw the expressionless face with an almost skeletal grin come into view. Those white eyes burning into your mind as you saw the other hand come into view, bringing up a wickedly sharp knife with it. Seeing it, you burst into tears, hot and salty and they streamed down your face and it became hard to breathe from the pressure and as your nose and throat became sticky with mucus. Nails scraping into the fur behind and the wood of the door, feeling splinters ripping up into your fingers as you tried to make your desperate escape.

You sobbed harder as a wheezing laugh came from the suit.

"Such a pretty little cry-baby." The crackling voice cooed, bringing the knife closer and running it across your cheek, making you shake and flinch, drawing a little blood across your skin. You swore you almost felt the thing shudder as it watched the crimson welt up against your flesh, mixing with your tears and dripping off of your chin into the white of your blouse.

The knife moved from your face to your back, running across your ribs and making your heart flutter wildly like a bird trying to escape from a cage, the sharp edge catching the delicate fabric before it sat at the base of your neck, just under its hand, threatening to thrust the tip into your spine and leave you dead or paralysed.

"You almost ruined my fun, little thing," It hissed, coming in closer and watching her expressions with almost a sense of delight about it. The jaw creaking open slightly and turning the grin menacing as it tilted it's head to one side. You swore you almost heard it breathing, like it was smelling your hair as it pressed in close again, the weight of its body against your back and forcing the knife to pierce your skin. It spoke again, low and crackling as if the voice inside was broken. "what did you need a lock for? Hm? Were you scared you'd get hurt?"

The questions were almost mocking, the voice distorting and moving somewhere between all too human and robotic. Sobbing harder as you couldn't find the breath to suck into your lungs. You didn't know that the man behind you was shaking in excitement. From the thrill of having you trapped and pinned, crying so hard you might pass out and already bleeding for him.

Suddenly it spun you around, slamming its large hand across your throat and lifting you slightly, your toes barely able to keep on the floor as your eyes widened in panic. Clutching at the hand and arm as your instincts told you to fight. To survive.

"Fucking answer me when I ask you a question!" It snarled, slamming your head against the door and making you see stars as you gasped for breath. Feeling the back of your head become sticky and warm, running down your back and through the animatronic fingers. Distorting the colour.

"To...To keep freaks...like you.. OUT" you sobbed, shouting as loudly as you could with the metal crushing your windpipe, your foot coming up and slamming against the arm holding the knife. Feeling something crunch under your foot as you were slightly surprised that you managed to bring your leg up that high.

But the thing dropped you, grunting as it moved back for a moment. This time though, it brought the left hand up to right forearm and made an all-too-human gutteral scream as it doubled over. You watched in horror as blood poured from between the rotting cracks in the suit, and your face paled as you realised that there was somebody under the mascot suit.

Steve Raglan under the suit was pissed. He had been having such fun making you cry and sob, and he hadn't thought about your legs being free. The pain of the springlocks digging into his arm made his nerves light up, his hand clenching and unclenching as he made sure it could still move. Knowing he was going to have to spend time digging the barbed hooks out of his flesh for hours afterwards. His head snapped back up, intending on killing you for your disobedience.

But your hands had managed to work the door jam and you had made a run for it. Leaving behind all your stuff as you fled the building, not caring to look back or even attempt to grab it as you fled from the psycho in the yellow bunny suit.

Your lungs burned, and your eyes remained misted as you burst into the cool night air outside and continued to run down the main road. You weren't sure where you were going, but it was anywhere, anywhere but Freddy's where those silver eyes watched you with a dark, burning passion as you fled from him.

#steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #william afton x you #william afton #william afton smut #springtrap #steve raglan #springtrap x reader

[tomhollandisabae]

Loved the ones you wrote about Lewis. Can you do something angsty. Like they have a huge fight cause he's jealous and even break up, but eventually get back together. Thank youuuu

thank u so much for ur request luvv!!❤️

the met - lewis hamilton x reader

masterlist

summary; following your night out at the met gala with lewis, you return home and a huge fight breaks out, leading to many regrets

warnings; heavy angst, panic attack, mentions of death, jealousy, mature language, fluff at the end

words; 1.2k

a/n; please send me ur requests!!❣️

You and Lewis had finally decided to attend the Met Gala together this year for the first time as an official couple. However, if only you knew how things would eventually turn out, you’d never to do that.  

You'd hoped for a nice evening, getting to know new people, socializing and in general having the time of your life with your boyfriend. Nonetheless, as a result of you being a well-known actress- and one of the most beautiful out there- you tended to attract too much attention on you.  

So, when one of your co-stars from your new movie started acting a little friendlier with you, Lewis saw red. You noticed how quickly his behaviour changed, from being out going and relaxed – to being moody and restraint. You thought that he was acting childish, so you decide against paying him any mind, but that infuriated him even more, resulting in you being more than annoyed because of him.  

Undoubtedly, it was expected once you walked in your house, that he’d start throwing fits at you. 

“Lewis, seriously relax” you rolled your eyes as you made your way to your bedroom to change. 

“Relax? You just fucking asked me to relax? No y/n, I won’t relax because you know why huh?” he looked at you while pointing his finger towards you “because today you acted like a total brat, knowing already that whatever you were doing was bothering me, you decided against changing your behaviour and continued on flirting with that asshole.”  

At that point you’ve had enough.  

“I acted like a fucking brat? Me? You're unbelievable Lewis. You have no right to tell me how to behave. I was being friendly towards him, we were playing in a goddamn movie together for six whole months, did you ever think that if I really wanted him like that, I wouldn’t already have done something back then, when I was alone with him?” you yelled at him. 

“I don’t know that...” his posture stiffened. 

“Excuse me?” you asked shocked. 

“I don’t know that nothing happened between you two while I wasn’t around. As you said, it was easier back then and considering the way you both were acting tonight, I don't exactly doubt that.” he told you and you felt your heart breaking into millions of pieces. 

“You really think that low of me? You really think that I would do something like that to you? Even after the millions of times I've told you how much I love you?” you said while biting your lower lip as tears started rolling down on your cheeks. 

“y/n...” his face took a sad expression. 

“no” you lifted your hand stopping him “I don’t wanna hear anything. What you said is really serious Lewis, because now I know that you don’t trust me.” you tried to wipe your tears, but new where constantly falling down. 

“Baby I'm sor--” you cut him off. 

“No Lewis, you don’t get to offend me like that and then say you’re sorry. Fuck your sorry! I need some time off” you finally said while sniffling your nose. 

“What?” Lewis exclaimed in a whisper. 

“I need space Lewis, I'll go to y/f/n’s tonight.” you told him and went to your bathroom to change. 

“y/n, please, don’t leave. I’m really sorry. Jealousy took over me and I know that doesn’t justify what I said to you, but it was in the heat of the moment, none of that meant anything. I didn’t mean anything I said baby. Please baby, don’t go.” you heard him silently crying on the other side of the door. 

Your heart was breaking even more at the sound of his sobs, but you couldn’t let him manipulate you. You couldn’t make him feel as if he had the upper hand. As you exited the bathroom, you paid no attention to him and grabbed your things, trying to make your way to the garage, while Lewis was hot on your heels. 

“y/n please” was the last thing you heard him saying as you started your car engine and left. 

One week had gone by and you were missing Lewis more than anything else. He hadn’t stopped calling you or texting you. He even turned up to your friend’s house, so you decided to go and stay at a hotel instead. You knew that he was worried about you, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him, until... 

You eventually needed to go back to your shared home to grab some of your things. So, you picked a time that you knew he would be gone, more likely during his morning ran, to go and pick up your things. 

However, you were wrong. 

Once you entered your house, you so Lewis sleeping on the couch with plenty of heavy- alcohol bottles scattered all over the place. What made your blood run cold in your veins, though, was that you noticed Lewis’ bear chest not moving.  

Immediately, tears started rolling down on your cheeks and you dropped your keys on the floor as you run up to him, kneeling besides him. 

“Lewis” you exclaimed his name between sobs as you grabbed both his cheeks, feeling how cold his face was. 

The worst thoughts made their way into your mind and you started sobbing uncontrollably while on the same hand, you couldn’t stop muttering out his name. 

“Plea...” your voice got caught in your throat as you begun having a panic attack. 

Lewis was not responding to you; his whole body was cold and you couldn’t feel his pulse as your hands were trembling way too much. You felt like you couldn’t breathe and your vision couldn’t stay focused.  

In your despair, however, you didn’t notice the two strong arms that wrapped themselves around your body as you were kneeled on the floor. 

“y/n...” you heard someone say, but your ears were buzzing too much. 

“Baby... breath, please” you heard his angelic voice in your ear as a soft kiss was placed on top of your head. 

“Lew... Lew” you cried out. 

“it’s me baby, shh, I'm here, everything’s going to be okay” he tightened his grip around you. 

“you’re not... dead” you said between sobs. 

“What?” he exclaimed shocked “of course not baby.” he placed one of his palms on your cheek lifting slowly your head. 

“you’re so cold” you said. 

“I slept with the window open baby.” he smiled down at you as he pointed towards the open window. 

“Really?” you asked in a weak voice. 

“Really baby. I'm sorry if I scared you, but I'm alive, I promise” he chuckled lightly. 

“Fuck you Lewis” you exclaimed in a high-pitched voice and jumped on top of him as you started hitting his chest. 

“Hey hey” you heard him laughing resulting in you starting to laugh too. 

“you’re an asshole Lewis” you said as you leaned down, your face inches away from his. 

“I know” he bit on his bottom lip. 

“But I love you so much” you whispered. 

“I love you too baby... please forgive me” he pleaded. 

“of course” you breathed out with a smile and grabbed both his cheeks with your hands, finally connecting your lips with his. 

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lewis hamilton x you #driver x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton fanfic

[solitaire-sol]

02. Soft

For: @prongsfoot-microfic Month: December 2023 AO3: Link Notes: Merry (possibly belated) Christmas, and equivalent holidays, to everyone who celebrates them! I just wanted to put out a little Christmas fluff to break my lack-of-posting streak. <3

They’d spent the day out-of-doors, tramping through snow-covered fields and wading through thigh-high drifts like colder, friendlier quicksand, competing to build the most ostentatious snow sculpture before trying to stuff snow down the back of each other’s coats. By the time James and Sirius had returned to the house, the coats in question thoroughly soaked when the snow-stuffing had become an impromptu wrestling match, twilight had already fallen and the village had been illuminated by festive lights and flickering tapers in red and white wax.

Christmas had come to Godric’s Hollow, or at least it was nearly there, and the air was layered with pine and cinnamon over the fresh, clean, cold scent of new-fallen snow. James and Sirius wandered back to James’ house, where the windows were glowing in warm welcome despite the fact that no one was home: James’ parents had gone visiting, as they did every holiday, and James would normally go with them except that Sirius was there, which took priority. James had been apologetic when he’d informed his mother and father, but Euphemia and Fleamont hadn’t seemed at all surprised-- The boys were old enough to look after themselves for a night or two, and the ‘old folks’ had departed with only a few cursory warnings against burning the cottage down.

After the two of them had stamped the snow from their boots, discarding their sodden coats in the mudroom, they'd only had to glance at each other before they were racing for the stairs, elbowing each other mostly-playfully as they clattered up the carpeted steps and separated at the landing: James darted into his room, then into the adjoining bathroom, while a hastily-slammed door from down the hall signalled Sirius' disappearance into the guest bath. Taps were turned, prompting hot water to rush out from pipes charmed to convey the perfect temperature, and the billowing steam fogged up the mirrors in each bathroom. Sirius, still his mother's son, couldn't help but take the time to wash and detangle and mostly dry his hair; so that by the time he made his way back downstairs, James was already in the kitchen, a towel around his shoulders and his hair still damp from the bath as he applied frothy whipped cream to two mugs of hot chocolate with far more care than he showed in Potions.

James looked up as Sirius entered the kitchen, passing him the mug with a cartoonish dog gazing mournfully up on the side; their fingers brushed together, just a little, and something in Sirius was warmed by more than just the hot bath, more than just the heat from the ceramic under his palm. James' mug had an out-of-proportion deer on it in the same cartoony style, both cups were bought as a joke the year before, but they were 'their' mugs and saw plenty of use whenever Sirius came to stay. The mugs were a set, after all, just as Sirius and James made a pair.

Hot chocolate successfully procured, the boys made for the plush sofa in the living room, where Sirius stoked the embers in the fireplace with a flick of his wand as James flung himself onto the couch with reckless disregard for the whipped cream and molten chocolate in his hand.

“Budge up,” Sirius ordered, causing James to grin at the faux-authority in his tone, and there was a good deal of jostling and wriggling before they found something that suited them-- Half-sprawled across the length of the sofa, Sirius' back wedged in the corner of the backrest and the couch's arm, James' back to his front. Long limbs and lean bodies slotted together with zero room to spare, and something that might still have attracted covert stares and curious speculation in the Gryffindor common room could be as easy and as natural as it felt. Sirius reached behind him with his free hand and seized a handful of the thick quilt draped over the sofa’s back, pulling it forward and draping it over James, who picked up the edge and tucked it around them like a two-occupant cocoon.

It might have surprised those curious Housemates to hear the surprisingly gentle cadence of the conversation that followed, which rose and fell according to the whims of the boys now cuddled together on the overstuffed sofa, the twinkling lights of the large evergreen in the corner creating a private constellation in the firelit dimness. Christmas at the Potters' was nothing like Christmas with the Blacks, who acknowledged the holiday in the way they did so many other things: With a deliberation that was at once both slightly ostentatious and severe, all overworked house elves and enormous silver punch-bowls that had once belonged to some storied precursor who’d flavored his glühwein with his enemies' blood. Sirius had years of receiving gifts from his parents, and occasionally they'd even been things he wanted, but there had been nothing like Christmas with James' family, all three in ridiculous jumpers that Euphemia knitted and Fleamont loved and James wore with pride. Their tree, always a superb specimen from the woods around the Hollow, was always all but smothered beneath the tinsel and enchanted tapers and sugared gingerbread, and hidden among the branches were multiple ornaments shaped like the letter 'J,' each in a different style, one for every year of James' life.

When Sirius spent his first Christmas with the Potters, Euphemia presented him with a jumper of his own, and James' gift had been an elaborately wrought letter 'S' to hang next to the other ornaments on the tree. "I'll get you another one next year," James had promised, and Sirius had laughed and called James a sop and pretended to study the weave of his jumper to hide the gratitude in his eyes.

James had been as good as his word-- James always was, when it mattered, and Sirius mattered to him, even if James showed it through deeds and not quite through words. It was evident on that night, in the way that James could be quiet with Sirius, in the way that the boy who always carried himself as if he were centre-stage could drink his hot chocolate and speak only when he felt like it, not when he felt he had to. That these feelings were returned, nebulous and as-yet-undefined as they were, was obvious in the way that Sirius allowed himself to enjoy the sweetness of the hot chocolate and the milky flavour of the cream, childish tastes that he'd never been allowed to develop but which, like so many other things, he was able to experience through James' presence in his life. Sirius had been honed by his family until he'd become as bright and as sharp as a blade; but with James, with James alone, there was no need to bring that blade to bear. James could disarm Sirius without really having to try, perhaps because James so readily showed Sirius the vulnerabilities that James would otherwise never admit he possessed.

When the mugs were emptied and set on the coffee table, when the logs in the fireplace were burning low and neither James nor Sirius felt inclined to stir them to life, the clock on the mantel began to chime. “Midnight,” James observed, relaxing against Sirius and smiling into the firelight, his fingers twisting idly into the fabric of Sirius’ sleeve. “That makes it Christmas Day. Happy Christmas, Padfoot.”

“Happy Christmas, Prongs,” Sirius replied, his voice soft, his eyes softer. Sirius didn’t quite smile, still somewhat unused to the way that James could make him feel-- Like the first day back at Hogwarts with his friends, like Monty and Effie smiling at him over the breakfast table, such times with James were too precious for Sirius to take lightly, and he would never quite master James’ knack for cradling everything in a grin. Even so, if only for a moment, it seemed like the world beyond the front door had faded into a pleasantly indistinct haze, and all that really mattered was that cosy living room and that glowing fire and the quilt that smelt faintly of lavender, the lingering sweetness on his tongue and the warm, solid weight of James against him, as if that was how they were always meant to be. James’ breathing flattened and slowed as he drowsed, ever able to fall asleep with an ease that Sirius sometimes envied, and Sirius let himself follow suit, his murmured words almost lost beneath the steady crackling from the fireplace.

“You mean the world to me.”

#prongsfoot microfic #prongsfoot #bambibelle #james potter x sirius black #sirius black x james potter #i was trying to write with all the usual holiday family stuff going on around me SO #hopefully it's at least a little cute and fluffy #my backlogged microfics are pretty angsty so this is like my christmas present to the boys #happy holidays everyone! #fics by sol

[transgymbro]

Hey! Sorry if you've answered this question before, feel free to ignore this or link the ask/post answering it but did you have any trouble starting going to the gym? I really want to start but I'm self conscious about not knowing anything about the machines and etiquette (and a little bit about which locker room I should use). Do you have any advice on any of these?

PS I fucking love trans gymbros

Honestly this is the first question I've had about the gym at all, so no worries! And thank you!

Okay so, cultures tend to vary from gym to gym, but these things will remain consistent:

ALWAYS RERACK YOUR WEIGHTS. If you are using dumbbells, PUT THEM BACK IN THE PROPER PLACE WHEN YOU'RE DONE. It's especially important to put them back in the proper place because if you put 45 lb dumbbells where the 20 lb ones should go, the person using the 20s might not be able to move them out of the way to their proper place.

Clean the machines you were using. This is how you prevent ringworm, COVID, etc. from spreading. There are usually spray bottles/paper towels/wipes around the gym for you to grab and clean your machine with

Don't spend longer than necessary on a machine. Generally people don't mind you being on a machine as long as you're working out. It's one thing to log your exercise/meals but don't be sitting on the machine texting a friend for like 10 minutes.

If a water bottle or other gear is on or near a machine, it's being used. Come back later. This is normally how people say "I'm not done here, but I had to get up to use the bathroom/get water".

If you don't know how to use a machine, ask a staff member or another gym goer. Seriously, gym rats are much friendlier than people assume and they WILL infodump to you, especially when they hear that you're a beginner. Staff members are there to help and they can show you how to use the machines. Also, in some cases the machines will have the instructions written on them. I'm going to put my tips for machines below somewhere.

Here are some things that are more nuanced:

Noise level - Some gyms (looking at Planet Fitness) require you to keep the noise level to a minimum (don't go to these gyms. Screaming/grunting has been scientifically proven to help you grind out that last rep). Others allow you to scream as loud as you want. You can ask, or you observe how much noise other people are making and go based on that.

Locker rooms - My gym allows you to use the bathroom of your preferred gender and despite not binding my large chest I've never gotten shit in the men's locker room. That being said, given how transphobic some laws are, this will depend entirely on your area. My advice here is ask the staff, and if they respond in a transphobic manner, then this isn't the gym for you.

How much to talk to other people - This depends on not only the gym culture but the individual also. Some people don't mind being approached, others want to be left to do their workout. In the very least, if you want to compliment someone on how much weight they're lifting ("damn bro you strong af" "that's anabolic as fuck") you can absolutely do that though. Also, if you are just asking if someone is using a machine, don't be afraid to do so, in my experience this is an interaction no one really minds.

More tips about machines:

Start light - Learn how much weight you can handle before trying to push yourself. Generally, if you can do 15 reps on a weight, you're ready to move to the next heaviest one.

Form - You don't have to worry about this so much on the machines, as you tend to be less likely to injure yourself due to their design. However, this will depend on the machine. Therefore, it's good to keep good form anyway. You can check by reading the machine's instructions carefully, asking a staff member, or knowing what it's supposed to be working and making sure you feel the right kind of pain in the right spots (i.e. you should be feeling strain in the muscles you intend to work and nowhere else, in general). Listen to your body most of all, and if you have any sharp pains, stop.

Feel free to message me if you have any more questions, and if anyone else has good pointers or if anything I said was wrong, please say something in the reblogs/comments!

#trans fitness #transmasc #trans men

[clumsyexpression]

One Piece Men needing a Blue Sky Holiday

Here's some One Piece guys having a bad day and here's how you ruined it (͡• ͜໒ ͡• )

Ace:

You just wanted a cool drink from the gas station but the door read ‘No shirt, no service’ and you had a lengthy discussion on what  classified as a shirt and him covering his nipples with his hands upon entry wouldn’t cut it

Aokiji:

After explaining how he had such a long day of reluctantly doing paperwork and what not, he also  had to explain how he ate the Chilly-Chilly Fruit and not the Chili-Chili Fruit and you two had a very lengthy talk about his devil fruit being somewhat of a misnomer since he couldn’t spontaneously generate bowls of chili, and when he disagreed with you, you decided to file a complaint to Fleet Admiral Sengoku and now he has to read it over the next day he goes in to work and sign all 73 pages that outline your argument

Crocodile:

You reasoned that if he ate the kinetic version of the Sand-Sand fruit, his powers would be a lot more cooler since sandcastles would be easier to build and he would be a lot more ASMR friendlier, which might help with his attitude problems

Franky:

Waitress: “Hmm, Coke, no, but we do have Pepsi – is that okay?” Franky: "No-" You: "Yeah, that will be fine – pretty much the same thing, right?”

Katakuri:

He saw you coming with your bullshit but wasn’t rude enough to turn you away. He is now forcing himself to consume end-of-the-shift Dunkin donuts and watered down Dunkin Refreshers that had its ice melt more than 45 minutes ago but at least your company makes up for it but you were still on that bullshit to get him old Dunkins lmao

Kid:

You were goading him into thinking he couldn’t do this cool trick you discovered and while he was clouded over in anger and being super competitive, you managed to trick him into ‘drawing’ a dick on your new widescreen tablet with his magnetic devil fruit powers - which was actually the the 65” TV that belonged in the common area and now everyone is mad at the both of you

Law:

You discovered his Squishmallow collection that he swore up and down was Bepo’s until you threatened to punch them all. Bepo still cried that you would even think to do that, you monster

Lucci:

You asked him to smell this really cool but very dubious plant that was on clearance at Lowe’s that had no label besides a barely legible cat silhouette on it. Now he’s been rolling around all over the floor while making really weird screeching sounds and  clawing the shit out of anything to that dares to move for the past 3 hours.

Luffy:

You set up a bunch of those faux food soaps with the hopes that he would use it to bathe, but instead he proceeded to break into your edible looking wax melts that smelled deliciously like food since you kept them in close proximity in the bathroom and now he has  a very bad tummy ache

Mihawk:

You accidentally broke the bottle of wine he intended to share with you in 5 minutes – not having enough time to look through his extensive wine cellar, you knew exactly where his red wine vinegar was and poured him a glass. He then started to choke exactly like this.

Rosinante:

You warned him that the food was a little spicy as a joke and he still caught on fire

Sanji:

You told him that you knew a great bar to unwind at with plenty of exotic dancers that are topless the whole time but was not at all entertained when the Chippendales was on stage the entire night

Smoker:

You gifted him some really nice cigars while yall were at a party but he got really buzzed and he thought he was eating some ants on a log but didn’t realize that he was actually eating his cigars until he was already 4 sticks in

X Drake:

You keep preparing to tell him about the details of this really cool, super top secret mission that nobody can know about except him and if you so much get a whiff of him thinking about snitching you out, you will open the door and get on the floor so everybody walk the dinosaur. You never explain the details btw

Zoro:

You two were in the middle of arguing and he says something that really rubs you the wrong way; you turn to look behind you to see who the fuck he’s talking to and when you turn back to face him, he’s gone. Now he’s big mad since you put him on search to find who he was talking to and he can’t find his way back to you to give a proper answer

#one piece #one piece x reader #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #eustass kid #trafalgar law #charlotte katakuri #cyborg franky #x drake #white chase smoker #kuzan #aokiji #donquixote rosinante #dracule mihawk #rob lucci #portgas d ace #sir crocodile #pink thread of fate

[apotatomashedbybts]

Homecoming

✉ Pairing: idol!Seokjin × secretagent!reader ✉ Genre: fluff, angst, romance ✉ Trope: married au, flashback au ✉ Word Count: 6.5k+ ✉ Trigger Warning: mentions of gun, blood, injuries. suffocating feelings. ✉ Rating: pg13 ✉ Banner: @fleurguk / @sweetieguk [My loveliest, Sana! Thank you so much for making this beautiful banner for me! 🤍 ] ✉ Beta Reader: @eoieopda [I can't thank you enough, Jade, for reading and helping me through this writing! Without you this fic wouldn't be what it is today! Thank you for all the hard work you did for me and for all the little compliments you left(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) They mean a lot to me! Thanks for being such an amazing beta💜🌼]

✉ Disclaimer:-

↳ This fic is the revamped version of my first ever published fanfic on Tumblr 4 YEARS AGO ON OCTOBER 25, 2018.

↳ The secret organisation mentioned in the story is purely fictional. However, the other military organisations/groups do exist in real life. ✉ Author's Note(1): I remember coming up with this story, all those years ago, while doing living creature things in bathroom at night and writing this down as soon as I got out! To say that it was exhilarating would be one way to put it. But more than that I felt liberated and happy that I found something that I wanted to do! I wanted to write! And let people read It! While revamping this story I felt embarrassed about the way I wrote it all those years ago but it also reminded me of how I was so excited and confident about it and I didn't really care about criticism nor did I think I wrote bad. I miss that part of me... Now I am constantly worrying if it's good enough, continuously hoping for a little interaction... I hope I can go back to just loving my work... and not drown in self doubt. But, hey, it's all about growth, isn't it? ✉ Author's Note(2): In this story, there are a few parts where the flashbacks jump between times. I have included the times but I hope it's not too confusing.

✉ Author's Note(3): It'd mean the world to me if you not only like but also REBLOG and let me know about your thoughts on this! ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠). Your feedback gives me the motivation to keep on writing ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧ ✉ Taglist: @sugarwithtea , @tangy-tangerine , @lonelystudio , @kuuipobangtan ✉ Crosspost: ao3 | Wattpad ✉ Extras: Book Cover | Homecoming Timeline

✉ Summary: When you breezed into Seokjin's life, he understood why the phrase "home is where the heart is" is so celebrated. Despite the cruel nature of your professions, both of you managed to live through it but Seokjin's worst fear clutched his throat when you disappeared unannounced for two years and he felt his very home taken away from him. However, promises are meant to be kept and one must return home at the end of the day.

OR

— where Seokjin waits for y/n to return home.

Seokjin's life is bountiful today. 

In his widely spread bright kitchen the air feels more forgiving than it has been for a very long time. The sunlight seems friendlier than usual and the incoming sounds from outside fall softer on the ears. 

Seokjin could enjoy all of these consciously only if he wasn't busy removing the last of the now crumbled architectural masterpieces of spiders from the side of the oven hurriedly. But what he does notice is the clamour of his friends — except the youngest, Jungkook — as they start to swarm the kitchen with bags full of all the necessary groceries that he had requested them to bring earlier.  

The third youngest whines while putting the bag he is holding on the counter, “Hyung! I want to stay with you!”

As much as Seokjin would have wanted to have them here, today is not the day. Today is a day that he wants to keep his mind full of you and only you. So, he pulls off a serious face that almost goes halfway to a pout and says, “No can do, Jimin.”

Seeing Jimin sulking, Namjoon intervenes and with a light tug on Jimin's left sleeve he says, “You know how it is, Jimin.” Then looking at Seokjin's ‘already back to being a busy body self' Namjoon smiles, “Let him be. It's for y/n.” 

“We will come back tomorrow. He won't mind us then. Let's leave for now.” Yoongi states matter of factly while standing at the door, preparing to leave and waiting for others to join him.  

Amidst the busy shuffling of them preparing to leave Jungkook comes back from the backyard. He informs while looking at Jin with his big doe eyes and pointing his right thumb outside, “Hyung, they have finished cleaning up the rooms and the porch. They said they’ll be done after a couple of hours, once they clean the pool and garage. Should I stay with them?” 

“Yeah, no. We’re leaving.” Namjoon grabs Jungkook’s one arm and Hoseok the other. Yoongi patters forward, lightly pushing Jungkook’s figure while Namjoon and Hoseok drag him backwards. 

Jungkook’s doe eyes become even bigger in surprise and confusion, “Huh? Already?” 

To which he gains nothing more than a quick “yep” from Yoongi.

Seokjin mouths a small 'thank you' to Namjoon and Yoongi for helping him out. Namjoon and Yoongi don't say much but with a slight nod they wave goodbye to him and leave with the rest of the boys. 

Closing the door behind them Seokjin heaves a heavy sigh and scurries back to the kitchen. He has a lot to do. Even though the day is still young, he feels like he doesn't have enough time to do everything he wants to. 

While sorting out the ingredients for your favourite sushi he chuckles at how this one thing has survived all these years on your list of favourite foods. And with that his mind takes him back to the day he first met you at the fansign seven years ago. 

 •••••••

Fansigns had always been Seokjin's favourite. He loved interacting with his fans and absolutely adored their cute and fun way of showing their appreciation.

That day wasn't any different. He was looking forward to receiving all the love personally from the fans but that changed when you showed up. He didn't expect to fall in love himself. 

He was the first member among them to meet the fans as he was sitting at the left-most seat. You greeted him shyly and handed over your album for him to sign. Jin looked at you and he noticed that even though you were kneeling you still looked as if you were almost standing. You knew exactly what he was thinking and when you were about to just say it he asked, “Sorry, but how tall are you?”

You replied almost immediately, lightly placing your palm on your forehead, smiling sheepishly at your own unexpectedly right guess, “6'3". It's hereditary.” 

The time given wasn't enough. While still recovering from the heat in your ears, you took out the huge insulated container, handed it over to him and said, “I made these sushi for you all. I hope you like them.” 

He made that surprised face accompanied with a 'woah' and a bunch of thank yous. Before you could say anything else you were told to move on to the next member. 

Maybe it was the lingering taste of your handmade sushi or perhaps it was your sparkling eyes when you spoke - neither of which he could choose between - that made Seokjin think of you more often than not. He regretted in those moments of remembrance that he couldn’t ask for your name. 

People say, when you want something with your whole heart then the whole universe mechanises itself to make it true for you. It worked for Seokjin too. 

In the next fansign, you were there - with your box of sushi and that sparkling smile adorning your face. 

When you knelt in front of Jin the second time, who was sitting in his usual, left-most seat, you couldn’t help but avert your gaze as you felt the gradual sensation of heat rising from your neck to your whole face at his words, “I have been waiting for you.” 

Years later, on your fourth year marriage anniversary, in the comfort of your couch in your beach house, you had told Jin, while reminiscing that fateful meeting that the wishfulness of it all made it harder for you to forget the smile that nearly took the shape of a smirk on his lips and the intent gaze with which Jin was looking at you while saying that. He’d set you on fire and you stayed willfully.

You had also pointed out how all the members craned their necks to look at him losing his usual composure over you. They had made fun of him for it later but in Jin’s words, it was a very small price to pay if he could show how much he admired you.

“What’s your name?” Jin asked while signing your album. 

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Your voice trembled in anticipation of all things happening around you.  

For Jin, on other hand, restlessness came to him after the fansign was over. He couldn’t stop imagining your reaction when you would discover his phone number written on the page he signed, accompanied by a cheeky little note under it that said - “looking forward to a text from a lovely stranger.” 

“That was super cheesy, honestly.” You had smiled, while reminiscing again while cuddling in the same couch as the sunset and the salty afternoon breeze both caressed your skin. 

Seokjin had looked at you and while taming away the strands of hair on your face he wished he could just look at your happy face forever like this silently but you were looking at him expectantly with those deep eyes and he had to say something back. 

But there was no taming the tempest of love he felt for you so he had cupped your face in his hands to fill it with kisses and nuzzled your neck while saying, “You loved it nonetheless, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, I did.” You had giggled under his touch. 

Falling in love with you was easy for Seokjin. 

About a week after giving you his phone number, while everyone was busy taking rest amidst the shooting of a music video, Jin had slipped out in the afternoon through the back of the residential building. 

The night before, Jin had told you through text how much he wanted to see you. For some reason, picturing his pouty face typing the text had made your heart burn. 

You had the day off so you drove to Chuncheon where they were shooting and called Jin upon arriving. 

You were sitting on the wooden platform over the lake, waiting for him. You saw Jin running towards you from a distance so you stood up immediately to wave at him so that he could notice you. 

In hindsight, Seokjin realised it was a bad idea to run at you with everything he had just so he could hug you as soon as possible, as you lost your footing when he all but tackled you; and both of you fell into the water.

In the split second before falling, you had braced yourself for hitting the cold water in this freezing winter but the water was surprisingly warm and it felt nice. 

You wiped the droplets off of your eyes to get a better look at Jin who just spat out a mouthful of water and was running his hands through his wet hair and face. 

The heart burn was back and you finally asked what you had been pondering over for a couple of days now, “Jin… Can I politely ask you to go out with me?” 

As awestruck as Jin was at your question, he didn’t miss a beat to answer back, “Can I… politely kiss you to say yes?” 

Falling in love with you was easy for Seokjin. But loving you and losing himself in your kiss was easier. 

He did get scolded when he returned to the shooting spot with all his clothes wet and make-up washed off. Everyone assumed that his red face and ears were a result of the cold and that he was smiling sheepishly because he felt guilty. The real reason was a well-kept secret between you two. 

It wasn’t easy dating an idol but you made sure to support him as discreetly as you could. 

Thankfully, due to the nature of your career, you were no stranger to discretion.

After finishing your three-month-long Winter Warfare training in Pyeongchang under SWC – also known as ROK-SWC which stands for The Republic of Korea Army Special warfare Command and is responsible for the army’s special operations forces – you had completed your year-long training for the 707th Special Mission Group — which was an elite counter-terrorism force made of only the best of the country. Being an ex-UDT/SEAL, it was easy for you to go through the rigorous, 10-day selection program and get selected for the prestigious team. 

You thanked your stars for having you go through all that romance-is-a-luxury stuff before you met Seokjin. 

Now, you had ample time on your hands before receiving your recruitment letter. So, you attended his showcases, visited most of his domestic shoots and spent nights, whenever he was available, in his apartment. You duped the hawk-eyes of lurking reporters by disguising yourself as a fast food delivery person - it was super effective. 

It wasn’t easy dating as an idol but Seokjin tried his best to do his part too. Whenever you visited him he made sure to take time out of his busy schedule to be with you. On his day off he visited you at your local sparring centre to watch you practice and hype you up. Sometimes he even showed up with banners to cheer you on just like you did during his shows. And all you could do at times like those was to laugh while covering your whole face, mirror his cheering movements and do well in practice. 

Since it was nearly impossible for him to take you on dates in public, sometimes he decorated his apartment like restaurants or picnic spots to give yourselves a normal dating experience.

After four months of secret meetings, longing for each other, countless kisses and innumerable laughs, Seokjin understood why people called a person their home. 

As the realisation hit him, he thought it was about time he asked you if you felt the same too. 

And Seokjin knew exactly how to make it special for you. 

One fine spring morning, he took you to a dog park that he had rented for the day. 

The night before, Namjoon had asked him if he was sure he wasn't rushing things. 

Seokjin had replied that he was afraid of it being too late.

The choice of place for an early morning date couldn’t have been better since you just adored dogs. You loved it even more because neither of you owned a dog. 

Like an unavoidable phenomenon, Seokjin came to you like a book that you must memorise, like a notebook that you must highlight and put sticky notes on.

And because you knew him so well, you decided not to squint your eyes at the oddity of Seokjin’s constant check-ins while you were busy playing with a border collie, his hasty retreating steps or the brittle grin that barely reached his red ears to assure you that nothing was out of ordinary.

You just smiled to yourself, preparing yourself amidst the loud colliding of your heart's beats that fought with each other like two racers trying to win first place. 

You knew of his intentions and you knew that your answer was going to be yes. 

What you didn’t know was that a very adorable golden retriever would grab the end of your long jacket and drag you to the only cherry blossom tree of the enormous park that stood mighty and beautifully in the middle of it. Now you understood why Jin had insisted you on wearing that in the morning. 

Under the cherry blossom tree were fifteen cute little corgis that sat patiently with their tongues out and wagging tails. Each of them had one placard hung on their necks with letters written separately which read, “WILL YOU MARRY ME?” 

It was a silly and tiresome feat to achieve. He knew you would have been happy even if he had proposed to you in some alleyway with a wildflower ring, but it was you; and if he could Jin would bring the whole moon to your lap to make you feel special. However, much to his pouty lips and flared nostrils, physics is an ass. 

There were a whole bunch of words that Jin thought he would be feeling for the next coming moments. But when you walked over to him with your hands covering your gasping mouth and your watery eyes amidst the timidly falling petals of cherry blossoms and uttered the word “yes”, none of the words he thought of sufficed. He slipped the rose quartz ring on your ring finger and hugging you he let the world surrounding him fall silent under the sound of your heartbeat.

“How did you even manage to do all that?” You asked while on your way home in the car. You giggled remembering how all the corgis charged at Seokjin, making him roll over the ground, and climbed on top of him when he was trying to give them treats after everything was done. 

He looked at you. His face was trying to do multiple expressions at the same time. He wanted to smirk, and act cocky; he also wanted to hold back his laughter. Ultimately all he could do was pout and say, “You know I could have done all of that myself but I was short on time so the people from KKA (Korea Kennel Agility) helped me.” 

You laughed at his reply, “I am not running away though.” 

Jin intertwined his fingers with yours and pressed a kiss at the back of your hand. His lips stayed a few seconds longer than a chaste kiss required, “Mhm.” 

 Two weeks after the proposal, the wedding was held secretly in Seokjin’s family home. His band members and your respective families were present. You moved into the new house that Seokjin had bought prior to marriage in a nice suburban neighbourhood. Before you let reality hit you, you gifted yourselves what you could: a breezy honeymoon getaway to the beach, for as long as possible, in each other's complete presence. 

The reality that hit you two was sad and lonely. 

Oftentimes as a human defence mechanism, they try to look over the harsh reality. They ignore its existence and keep it shoved inside a storage bunker above head until it comes crashing down. It was the same for both of you. 

While dating, neither of you thought about how hard it was going to be to have enough of each other and live as a family even after marriage… Especially after marriage. 

You were already training to be in the SWC’s 707th special mission group and Jin’s career as an idol was far from over. 

Two months after your wedding was still manageable. Then, one sweltering August morning, you got summoned at the SWC headquarters to receive your recruitment letter from your superiors. It wasn’t the one you were aiming for. You were taken on by an arcane and powerful organisation. It was led by a collaboration of several governments undertaking covert missions to address sensitive and violent crimes: the Organised Crime Control Association, or in short known as The ORCA. 

You were dumbstruck. Seokjin was proud of you. 

He knew what you were capable of, and even though he wanted you to stay close to him he knew where you would shine the most. To him you were as smart as Sherlock and more impregnable than Jack Reacher. 

You were silent and stuck after receiving the news - Jin pushed you towards your dream just like he had always done to himself. 

The reporting HQ of the organisation was outside of South Korea, and you had to depart within three days’ notice. You assured Jin that you would keep in touch as best you could. But your best wasn’t always enough. 

As soon as you arrived there, your internet presence was erased from every database except from the organisation itself. Being an ORCA member also required you to get rid of the phone you possessed and instead use a burner phone that they provided. 

Contacting family was an extravagance for everyone and you respected that sacrifice. 

Both of you lived on infrequent texts and even rarer opportunities to listen to each other's voices. 

Jin would tell you about his day and you would yours. Even the most mundane things would be the most exciting thing that you both had listened to in a while. 

“I have a day off today so I stayed up all night and played games. That’s why I woke up this late!” 

“I broke three pieces of training equipment today so I have to wash the dishes after dinner.” 

Daily flavour of monotonous life was delivered to the other side of the phone in a wrapper of - I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. 

Seven months of bone-draining training later you returned home on a much deserved vacation. It was a reward for having the most impressive evaluation result, nearly making up for the broken arm and the burn your back had sustained to receive it.

It took you a month to recover and Jin made sure that it took no more than the minimum time required. He was with you all the time - taking care of the littlest of your needs. 

You were grateful but seeing him always on high alert broke your heart. You wanted to tell him to relax his shoulders and peel off some of the attention he was giving to you to his own work. 

But he wanted you to be healthy as soon as possible so that you could lead your normal life.

Normal life… 

The life that Jin wanted for you wasn't your normal life. Your 'normal' life was out in the wilderness full of heinous crimes and the smell of blood and gunpowder. 

'This' was your vacation - a way out of the ordinary. 

You knew that once he heard about what really was going to happen he would break and protest. But it was necessary to let him in on some basic information so he could prepare himself for that. Moreover, you had already broken one of the core rules of the organisation by letting him know you were working for The ORCA. 

One evening, after your month-long healing period, you walked over to your husband in the dining room and back-hugged him. You rested your chin on his shoulder and called out to him with a sigh trapped inside the cavity of your chest, trying not to sound too sad, “Seokjin-ah…”

He knew that tone. You called him like that only when you needed to say something serious. 

But he acted clueless anyway and while setting the plates on the dinner table and placing a quick kiss on your cheek, he quipped, “What’s poppin’, good lookin’?” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at his attempt to lighten the mood. You needed to tell him before it was too late. “Come on, Seok! I am trying to be serious here.” 

“Yeah… I am sorry, poppins. I am listening now.” He held your arms and made you sit on a chair. Then he dragged another chair to sit facing you and held your hands in his, “What is it?” 

His thumbs drawing small circles on the back of your hands didn’t soothe you much but you tried to look relaxed, “My vacation… Um… I am going to stay here until they call me back. And they are going to call me sooner or later.” 

Your hands fell from Seokjin’s hold like a yellowed leaf from a branch. He couldn’t believe that you just said that you wouldn’t stay at home, that you wouldn’t stay with him, and you were planning to go back to a job that gave you a broken arm and burn marks just on the training! 

You placed your hand on his shoulder and called him softly, “Seok-ah…” 

His head hung low as he kept on glaring at the floor. Even if the dining room wasn’t so brightly lit, you wouldn’t have missed the teardrops that escaped your husband’s eyes and fell directly on the floor without getting the chance to glide over his quivering soft cheeks. 

Seeing him refusing to get his head up and look at you, you called again, replicating your previous tone, “Seok-ah… Please listen to me.”

“NO!” An almost scream escaped his parched throat. He looked up at you quickly with glossy pleading eyes before looking down again, “You are not going anywhere.”  

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead on his and held his face in your hands. Your thumb grazed softly across his cheek, swiping away the tears that slipped and stained them.

“Seok-ah…” you whispered. He begged, “please don’t go…” 

“Please, look at me. Listen to me just this once.” You pleaded and he adamantly shook his head, still looking down. 

“Please? Just once?” The teardrops dancing along the brim of your eyes threatened to fall.

His eyes finally met yours and your tears fell just like his. 

You inhaled sharply, “Seok-ah, I can’t just quit my job out of nowhere. If I tell you to quit being an idol and do a normal day-to-day job, would you be able to? Too many people depend on you - be it emotionally or professionally. It’d be unfair. Same goes for me… It’s too important to just… leave! And you know more than me what it feels like to chase a dream and finally achieve it. I… love my job. And I can’t let my abilities rot.” 

You paused. Jin didn’t say anything back; he simply continued to look at you with those big eyes waiting for you to say something more. Something convincing.

You continued, “I know you are worried and I know that this work is dangerous as fuck! I get unnerved more than I would like to admit. But if I am allowed to be a little arrogant, I am the best in my field, well — almost.” You rolled your eyes. “But still I want you to have faith in me that no matter what happens I will return to you. No matter how long it takes me, no matter what happens. Can I ask for this much trust from you?" 

"It's not that I don't trust you, poppins… I trust you more than myself. But… it's just that I am so…” He gently caressed your once-broken arm while looking at it, “Scared… I just need some time.” 

His eyes darted back to yours and you understood where he was coming from; if he was in your place you would be wary too. 

You finally let go of the sigh you had been holding and whispered, “Okay. Let’s do that.”

At night you felt a soft hold on your hand - it jolted you awake. 

But you relaxed immediately when your body understood that it was Seokjin. 

He flinched a little seeing you stir out of slumber. His voice came out rather croaked, “I.. I am sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up.”

You glanced at the watch kept on the bedside table - it read 3:56 am. 

You sat up. In the white light of the LED seeping in through the window from the outside, you finally made out his face - his eyes were swollen and shiny red. 

He didn't let go of your hand. Instead he held the other one as well when you called him gently, “It's okay, baby. What happened? Why are you up so early?”

His voice came out but a whimper, “I just couldn’t fall asleep.”

He sniffled to speak clearly, “Your hands are calloused.” 

“You know, the downside of practice,” you shrugged. You went on with the flow of his conversation. You knew he would speak his mind eventually.

There was a silence that hung around for a few seconds like that awkward friend in the group before Seokjin spoke up again,  “I thought about it a lot… and it’s just not fair. Neither to you, nor to myself. But I know you…” He paused to take a deep breath as if to prepare himself to say the next words, “Promise me that no matter what happens you will come back to me.” 

You felt relieved and grateful. It wasn’t like Seokjin owned you and you needed his permission to do what you wanted to do with your life but his understanding and support made the emotional burden a lot less gravitational. 

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to return…” You squeezed his hands as an assurance, “But I promise that I will. You need to promise me one thing as well.” He looked at you with questioning eyes and you answered, “That you will lead your life normally keeping this faith in your heart that I am doing perfectly fine. Can you please promise me that?” 

Seokjin was well aware that it was nearly impossible for him to continue living normally knowing that you could be in a life threatening situation at any given moment but if it would give you a little bit of relief, he wouldn’t mind lying. “Promise.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing your foreheads together. 

“Oh! I need to request you one more thing! You might come across me in the streets while I am on duty. Please ignore me and treat me as you would treat any stranger. Can you please do that?”

He nodded vigorously, and wiped his runny nose with the back of his bare hand. 

You smiled and brought out a wet tissue kept in the side drawer. With it, you wiped his hand and patted his nose gently. 

He kept on staring at you while you were doing so; and when you were done, with a smile that hung on his lips like a decade old incandescent bulb trying its hardest to do its job properly, he remarked, “I think I should get used to doing it myself from now on.” 

The call finally came - later than dreaded, sooner than hoped for. 

The thing with living in absence of loved ones is that you never get used to it, no matter how much mental preparation you had done for it. 

So, when you kissed him goodbye from the doorstep instead of letting him drop you off at the airport, Jin was devastated. 

Jin didn’t want to move away from the doorstep; the larger part of his brain was trying to convince the rest of it that you would emerge from the line where you disappeared and laugh at him saying that it was all a prank. 

Alas! It was not. 

It was summer again and Summer was sad that it had been demoted from being Seokjin’s favourite season to his most hated one. 

But in all of the stifling air that hung around and inside Jin, a notification sound brought a gust of sea-scented breeze to him - a text message from you. 

“Check the drawer under the staircase.”

Seokjin took a moment to blink away the surprise and then he ran inside, leaving the threshold behind. 

Inside the drawer was a multi-patterned cardboard box with a note on top that said, ‘one for each day you miss me’ and within it was a pile of letters - 366 in total, in case it took you that long to keep your promise. 

Days were going by.

You were keeping your promise though contacting each other while you were away was rare. 

Officially, you were granted two vacations yearly. It didn’t matter which times of the year you took them as long as there wasn’t any mission that required your input. The length of your vacation also depended on the presence of operations and requirement of personnel and expertise. 

To ensure coverage, the agents were given a form upon entering the organisation. It asked the agents which time of the year they preferred to have a vacation. You had filled it up as ‘I am fine with any time of the year’. Of course you had preferences in mind but the higher-ups didn’t need to know about them. The response turned out to be in your favour because some heartless asshole in the authority made sure that no agent got the vacation that they put as their preference. That made power harassment a hot topic at the dinner table among the rookies. 

Even though you had years of experience and you were proficient in your job, you were a rookie in the organisation and therefore assigned to easier tasks. It was convenient because you were able to effortlessly wrap up the work in time.

You always made sure that you were home for Jin’s birthday and your wedding anniversary. 

In the beginning you also secured vacations as long as seven days. As promised, you returned home unscathed. 

But as years went by your holidays got shorter. 

On your fourth year anniversary, you got three days for your second vacation of the year. Jin took you to the beach house where you had your honeymoon. 

It freshened up memories that you cherished. And you cherished the person in those memories. You wished to stay home forever when Jin kissed you by the bonfire under the stars and your toes curled in the cold sand.

Just like any other human whose primary instinct is to adapt and survive, you both responded to your situation likewise. You made sure to make enough memories while being together - in shapes of photos and videos, laughter and smiles, kisses and sparkling eyes - to hold on to and reminisce when you stayed apart. You were living and adapting. 

But life is cruel and it couldn’t tolerate that it was beginning to seem bearable to both of you. 

After the last goodbye in the summer, that marked the beginning of your fifth year as an ORCA agent, Jin continued living just like he had made himself live all these years - waiting for the phone to make that special ringtone set for unknown numbers; going through the photos and videos of you and the two of you together, working consciously for the sake of everyone and himself; taking care of himself so that he doesn't get scolded once you returned home; keeping up with world affairs to make wild guesses about where you might be right at that moment and reading one letter per day. 

It was hard at first but he had started to get the hang of it. 

Seokjin’s worry started when you neither contacted him nor came back in winter as usual. 

Things turned blue when even after the 366th letter his phone didn’t vibrate with that special ringtone and you didn’t return to him in spring like you were supposed to. 

Jin felt his consciousness shutting down like a gradual power outage - one by one, bit by bit. 

The members were worried about both of you, but if they were to show their weakness to their oldest brother then who would keep him sane? 

“Sane…” Jin chuckled to himself in the darkness of the living room and wondered if he was ever sane for even a single day since you joined that hell of a stupid secret organisation. 

Now he felt even more insane because the walls of every room in this big house were beginning to close in on him; the ghost of your presence haunted every corner of its existence.

He had to make an escape, he had to survive, he had to keep his promise. 

He started to spend more and more of his time outside the empty house, in the company building - working himself to the bones, making a cocoon in his studio. 

He also began to reread the letters, starting from the very beginning.

At night, he buried his screams in the wet pillow and prayed for you to be safe and alive and that you would come back to him. 

“Is this too much to ask?” He wondered, “it’s been a long time…” 

His prayers were answered one fateful winter morning when he was woken up with a start by the unfamiliar relentless ringing of his phone. 

He fell from his couch and fumbled to take the phone out from under the letter that he was reading last night — 210th — and opened your text - ‘guess who is coming back home finally? See you tomorrow, lover boy.’  

He blacked out for a good minute because of the sudden burst of serotonin in his system. 

The entire day, Jin couldn’t wait for their schedule to wrap up and he kept on pestering the staff by asking repeatedly after each task, “Are we done yet?” 

When finally they were free to go Jin rushed out of the building with Taehyung who just liked tagging along wherever Jin went. 

Upon reaching, the forgotten house greeted them with upset cob-webs, sad furniture and prideful dust that weren’t too happy about the idea of being removed. The dust protested by invading their nasal cavities resulting in a series of immediate coughs and sneezes.

“Damn, hyung! When was the last time you came home?” Taehyung asked in a muffled voice after covering his nose and mouth with his scarf. 

Jin’s forlorn gaze travelled around the space and his voice came out rather distant. “I haven’t, yet.” 

•••••••

The beeping sound of the microwave oven pulls Seokjin out of his reverie. The muffins are the last one of the dishes that needed done. All the other preparations are complete. All he needs to do now is to wait - which is proving to be the hardest of all the tasks. 

He is restless and he can’t stop shaking his legs and repeatedly checking the time. He is trying hard to convince himself that years are a lot longer than a few hours but he can’t make the anticipation in his heart go down with any amount of pep talk. He is finally going to see your face, hear your voice and hold you in his arms. He is finally going to feel your warmth envelope his lonely frigid heart. 

Just as the sun sets, leaving the house at the mercy of the moonlight, the loud sound of the doorbell starts to echo throughout the house. 

Seokjin springs up from the inner threshold where he has been sitting on the floor, and before the ringing can stop he opens the door. 

A tanned smiling face lined with days of trauma greets him and Seokjin doesn't miss a beat to hug you. Keeping his ears on your chest he listens intently to the beats that greatly solace him. He squeezes you tighter in his embrace as his head moves up and down rhythmically on your very-much-breathing bosoms.  

Your life is merciful today. 

The water touching your body is the perfect temperature. The hands massaging your sore muscles and helping you clean are soft and gentle. The clothes you are wearing are crisp and clean. Your stomach doesn't have to growl for long and the food in front of you is warm and inviting — finally you are going to have the sushi you were dying for.

Most importantly, the person you are with now is someone with whom you don't need to stiffen your shoulders and strain your senses. 

You don't realise until you see his face how much you longed to see it. Seokjin's face is like a resting place for your eyes - a balmy sight. Looking at him now reminds you of the three days straight you had once spent in the surveillance room. When you came out and saw the greenery outside the building, you cried because your eyes had felt so relieved. 

Lying down on the bed with Seokjin snuggling you  under the cosy blanket, the fatigue finally catches up to you and you feel yourself getting swallowed by the soft mattress. You don’t remember the last time you felt so worriless while falling asleep or the last time sleep came to you so easily, so caringly. 

With drowsy eyes you look at your husband who is looking at you with a faint smile and some residual longing in his eyes and you suggest in a sleeplaced voice, “Maybe I should take voluntary retirement now.” 

Jin watches you fall asleep right after making that comment. He knows that it’s most likely your body’s comfort receiver talking and you would return to your usual self after getting enough rest. Still, he can’t help but water the little seed of hope that you just sowed in his heart. 

He rests his palm softly on your cheek and gently caresses the space beside your eye with his thumb. He shudders while thinking about the countless sleepless nights those beautiful eyes of yours have endured and the innumerable grotesque things they have witnessed. 

His mind tells him that maybe he can try to reason with you again later but right now he must give his own tired body some rest. 

Lying in the comfort of your presence in the familiar room makes him release a slow content sigh - the walls don’t feel suffocating anymore. 

He scoots closer to you and places a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “We have a lot to catch up on, poppins.”   

His arm moves on muscle memory and finds its way around you anchoring itself. 

Seokjin has been running for a while, trying to escape from a part of his reality but now he can stop doing that and get some rest - he has come home now. 

— © 2023 apotatomashedbybts, all rights reserved. Reposting or modifying of any kind is not allowed. Translations are not allowed.

#bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #thebtswritersclub #micdropnet #bangtanoasis #bitemeval #freyasreads #libraryen #monfics #userlavienjin #useryoonqiful #userjeonjcngkook #eoieopda archive #useromy #kim seokjin #fic: homecoming #jin ff #jin fanfic #jin fluff #jin angst #jin oneshot #married au #seokjin × reader #idol!seokjin #secret agent #romance au #flashback au

[riaswritingalore]

RUV X CRUSH THAT CAN GROWL AND SCREAM

PLOT SUMMARY: Boyfriend arrives to the church for round 2 with Ruv who is anything but happy about it and decides to take matters into his hands. As he is losing, however, reader decides to step in to help, showing what they’re capable of.

No trigger warnings, perhaps Ruv being loud but that’s it I believe.

gif from: Friday Night Funkin’ but It’s Anime by Pol

You had been friends with Sarvente for a while and were a regular at the church, giving a hand with whatever Sarv needed help with. That’s how you meet Ruv. 

It was awkard in the beginning given both, you and Ruv were the silent and reserved type that didn’t speak much unless necessary, although you were far friendlier than Ruv and not intimidating at all.

The kindness you would always show to Sarvente in every visit at the least helped put Ruv at ease and not try to kick you out.

The first interaction between you and Ruv that included more than two words was that one day Sarvente was out and left him in charge of everything. You had brought some supplies for the church and Ruv helped carry the items. Needless to say when Sarvente came back and saw Ruv having a nice conversation with you she was happy. 

Cue Sarvente expressing how she felt about Ruv making a new friend and try as he might, denying it didn’t work. 

More visits meant more time for you and Ruv to bond. An odd friendship formed but it was special. Ruv enjoyed the fact that he could spend time with someone without having to talk all that much and the feeling was mutual.

Ruv started waiting for that time in the day where you would arrive and though he never smiled, you would soon learn he simply couldn’t as it physically hurt him, the air felt lighter whenever you were around him.

Slowly he started to feel sick... he grew worried as his stomach would act weird, he would often feel warmer thinking he had caught a fever although it would turn out to never be the case. He hid this from Sarvente for a while so he could still help around the church, but she noticed something was up soon enough.

When asking Ruv about it, she pieced two and two together quite fast. She told him if this happened whenever you were around. Sarv nearly laughed when he quickly asked her if you were the one who was sick. She proceeded to tell him that no and that what he felt was love.

His expression after was one Sarvente would never forget. 

Until that point Ruv had thought it impossible for him to feel anything other than rage. To say that he was confused would’ve been an understatement.

Boyfriend’s timing couldn’t be worse. If Sarv hadn’t stopped him, Ruv would have murdered the beeping boy on the spot. As if he wasn’t dealing with his own problems already.

The battle had been going on for quite a while now. Unlike last time, nothing had been destroyed and although everything shook each time Ruv sang, the church stood still.

You were next to Sarvente who watched the situation with worry, you could hear her muttering a prayer as she observed the rap battle going on between Boyfriend and Ruv. You had been cleaning something upstairs when Boyfriend arrived and came down after feeling the church shake with Ruv’s voice. 

Sarvente had told you before of the incident with Boyfriend. He and Girlfriend, the girl with the red dress sitting and watching silently, had arrived in hope of getting to the bathroom. In short, things escalated quickly and everything was destroyed. That was also the time you learned Ruv could sing, and loudly at that. Mighty impressive. 

For the second time in his turn, Ruv stumbled upon his words and he knew he had lost. His anger increased at the thought of something happening and hurting Sarvente or you if Boyfriend challenged you. He sang with the hope of keeping that from happening.

“Do you have another mic?”

Sarvente turned to you with furrowed brows, trying to find any hint in your expression that you might not be serious about this. “Are you...?”

The nod you gave her was all she needed to go and grab what you had asked for.  

Boyfriend would have been killed long ago if the daggers Ruv glared at him were real. “You win, now get lost!”

“Eh? No way! I win and that means I get to choose who to go against with next!” Boyfriend exaclaimed way too excited about a new challenge. 

Ruv growled at Boyfriend hoping that’d be enough to get the blue-haired to leave,but he completely changed when someone walked next to him holding a mic, at first he thought it’d be Sarvente, he would expect her to sing next, but when he saw you his eyes went wide open.

“I accept the challenge,” you said with confidence. Though you occasionally sang, you weren’t a professional. It didn’t mean you weren’t confident in the skills you knew you had.

Boyfriend pointed his index finger at you with a smile bigger than the one he just had, “then get ready to get your butt beat!” 

The smirk on your face was enough to tell Ruv to step back and give you space, even though it didn’t make him less worried about your safety. 

You let Boyfriend sing first, he picked Zavodila. You’ve heard Sarv humming this song a couple of times so you were familiar with the melody. When Boyfriend finished his last beep, it was your turn to show him.

You brought the microphone closer, your mouth opening and taking a long breath. A deep, loud growl came from you. Though it didn’t shake the whole building, the windows clearly did. You felt it from your chest and throat  and as always were careful not to strain your voice. You kept singing, until the end in which the growl turned into a louder scream instead, letting the air go through your lungs and your mouth doing the job of making it clear. 

Not only did you sound intimidating but you also appeared terrifying and Boyfriend and Girlfriend looked at you as though they’ve seen an Eldritch God or something of the like. He kept singing, of course, but as he was impressed has he was scared and he lost pretty quickly. 

When Boyfriend and Girlfriend left, Sarvente ran and hugged you tightly and a bit out of nowhere too. You let her do it, a sheepish smile on your face as she complimented your extraordinary voice. “You sounded amazing! Oh, you should totally join the choir we could do something different! Thank you! thank you!”

“Sarv you will crush them to death with your hug,” Ruv said. Though he seemed the same at first glance, it was clear he too had been impressed. He had never heard something like that; while yes, his voice was loud, he couldn’t do a death metal scream. 

Eventually Sarvente let you go, still smiling, still happy that you had helped the church in yet another way. When you said that you were happy to help as always and that you would do this again, Ruv knew he couldn’t deny his feelings for you any longer and there was the fact that you had sang his song as well. 

#friday night funkin' #fnf #fnf x reader #ruv x reader #gn reader #this wasn't supposed to be as long as it turned out

[bro-atz]

1024UB CHAPTER NINETEEN: EVERYTHING IS FALLING APART

word count: 2.1k

table of contents ♤ previous chapter ♤ next chapter

Ze Cafe was super slow again, but no one seemed to mind because the friend group wanted to hang out at the cafe. Yunho and Iseul couldn’t make it because of their experiment for class, Jongho was off at a game, and Seonghwa... Gyuri texted Seonghwa earlier that day asking him if he wanted to meet up at the library and hash some homework out, but he responded to her with “I’m already at the library with Bora.” Seonghwa never texted Gyuri like that before— he was usually a lot friendlier and never used proper punctuation or capitalization like that.

“I was honestly so fucking pissed when I saw that. I really think she took his phone and answered for him,” Gyuri huffed out.

“No, literally, I hate talking to her. She’s so tedious to talk to, and I thought I was tedious,” Yeosang was surprised.

“You’ll never be tedious, babe,” Wooyoung, from behind the coffee machine, winked at his roommate. Yeosang gagged.

“I hate her so much, guys, you don’t even know. You hate talking about or to her? I have to see her fucking face every time Seonghwa brings her home. I don’t care if Hwa has a girl over, but literally anyone else but her. She’s such a bitch, guys,” Hongjoong ranted.

“Hate is a strong word… but I agree,” San piped up.

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually hated someone before I met her. I ran into her in the engineering building when I was getting some coding work done, and she was judging every little thing I did and kept trying to correct me,” Yeosang rolled his eyes. “She acts so holier than thou, it’s insane.”

“Yo, the other day she and Hwa stopped by the cafe, and when he went to the bathroom, she made “small talk” with me and pretty much said that working while studying is embarrassing. Who the fuck does she think she is?” Wooyoung held his fist up.

“Wait, so many of us fucking work and study? I’m doing a paid internship, and Seonghwa, who is her fucking boyfriend, is a teaching assistant!” Gyuri spat out. 

“Why does she always act up when Hwa’s in the fucking bathroom?” San pointed out.

“Yeah! Whenever Hwa’s not around, it’s like her true self comes out,” Yeosang agreed.

“I told her I was taking business to focus on music production, and she actually rolled her eyes and said music is a waste of time and that my degree was going to waste. I nearly punched her, y’all have no idea,” Mingi bit out.

“What the fuck?! God! I hate this bitch even more now!” Hongjoong roared.

“She stole my man…” Gyuri added quietly.

All the boys turned into meerkats just staring at Gyuri like she was a predator or something. After taking a sip of her coffee, she looked up to see the meerkats— even San’s eyes were wide open. “I meant that she stole my best friend, guys. Every time I’m with him, she appears moments later and glares at me. I have to leave every single time. I hate it.”

Some of the boys exhaled upon hearing Gyuri’s clarification, causing Gyuri to work really hard to not roll her eyes. There was a brief moment of silence before a literal lightbulb went off above Yeosang’s head. Wooyoung and Hongjoong looked up to see that the flickering light they’d been annoyed with for months finally stayed on, and Yeosang said to the group, “Gyu, you should convince him to break up with her.”

“Are you insane? The girl already has a vendetta against me.” Gyuri shook her head. “No way.”

“No, he’s right. Gyu, he’ll only listen to you out of all of us. You need to tell him how horrible she is,” Mingi added.

Hongjoong took Gyuri’s hand and looked her right in the eye as he begged, “Please, Gyu. You’re our only hope.”

All of the boys literally started begging her. Yeosang, Mingi, and San all fell to their knees before the girl, Wooyoung fully bowed behind the bar and nearly hit his head on the countertop, and Hongjoong was just praying to her like she were a God.

“…Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”

The boys cheered loudly as a look of exasperation fell upon Gyuri’s face.

“Okay, okay, when should I do it?” She asked after she got them to calm down.

“Now,” someone answered.

“Now?!”

“Yeah! He’s at the library, right? You can catch him before he leaves!” Wooyoung encouraged.

“Hell no!”

Despite her refusal to go at that very minute, Gyuri found herself being escorted to the library by Yeosang, Mingi, and San (Hongjoong and Wooyoung had to stay at work). She really hoped and prayed that her shitty luck would work in her favor and that Seonghwa would either not leave the library or already be home. However, her shitty luck worked against her, and she actually caught him right as he was leaving the library. At least he was alone, but dear God how she did not want to talk to him about this.

“Oh, hey, Hwa,” Gyuri greeted.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

There was something really cold about the way he responded to her greeting, which actually made Gyuri shiver. “I have to get some work done. Remember, I asked you if you wanted to get some homework done.”

“Right.”

Something felt really off with Seonghwa. Usually, he was happy and excited to see her, and they would be talking all the livelong day. “How are you?”

“Good.”

Gyuri’s heart was breaking. “I miss hanging out with you…”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve been busy.”

These answers he was giving her made her wonder if he actually was the one who sent that text to her earlier that day. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the red marks on his neck. “You having fun?”

Seonghwa’s hands immediately covered the red marks on his neck— he knew.  “I guess you could say that,” he responded.

There was such an intense, crazy awkward silence between them. Gyuri didn’t even know how to say anything at that point. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him to break up with Bora because she and the rest of the group don’t like her. What if she told him that she liked him? No, that was a crazier idea. She should just keep her mouth shut for now.

“I actually have something to tell you. Can we sit somewhere?” Seonghwa broke the silence.

“Oh, uh, sure…”

They walked over to a bench in the park in front of the library. Gyuri looked over her shoulder to see that Yeosang, Mingi, and San were hiding behind a tree, their heads sticking out from the side as if they were cartoon characters or something. That definitely made Gyuri feel a little better, but her chest was getting tighter, making it harder for her to breathe with every passing second. There was so much tension in the air surrounding them, Gyuri felt like she was drowning in it, and the bad feeling in her gut was becoming more apparent as Seonghwa looked down at his shoes and said, “I think we need to take some time away from each other.”

At that moment, Gyuri felt her blood freeze. Seonghwa continued, “Bora doesn’t like how often you text me or hang out with me, and she was upset that I was comforting you on the roof the other night. I don’t want to upset her, so…”

“I’m sorry, what?” Gyuri was shocked; did he just choose his new relationship over her, his best friend? He’s choosing hoes before bros? “What the actual fuck, Seonghwa? You’re fucking with me right now, right? Tell me you’re fucking kidding.”

Seonghwa looked up from his shoes and right at Gyuri. His eyes were red, and he looked like he was about to break down and start crying, but he didn’t. “I’m serious.”

Gyuri’s jaw dropped. She searched for the words that would properly express the betrayal she felt at that moment. She stammered out, “You… you’re… you’re going to choose her over me? You’re really going to throw away our seven-year-old friendship for that dumb-bimbo-whore-bag?!”

She could faintly hear Mingi snort at her description of Bora, but she was in no state to appreciate the fact that he enjoyed her insult. She was looking right at Seonghwa, whose sadness seemed to immediately switch to pure rage. “She’s my girlfriend! Don’t talk about her like that!”

His eyes were red, but there were no tears in his eyes now, but that didn’t matter to Gyuri. She was pissed. She was livid that he was so blindly infatuated with this vile, evil creature that spawned from seemingly nowhere. She said everything that came to her mind. Every single damn thing. She was done trying to be nice.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Seonghwa? You’ve known me for-fucking-ever, and you’re still getting to know her! Did you know that she insulted Mingi and Hongjoong’s majors, telling them that music is a waste of time?! Did you know she gave unsolicited “advice” to Yeosang to fix his code?! Did you know that she finds it “pathetic” that some of us need to work and study in order to afford the good things in life?! Did you know she says all this shit to us whenever you’re in the bathroom?! Did you know that your own fucking roommate doesn’t want to go home anymore because you’re there with little-miss-pissy-face?! How the fuck can you choose her over us?!”

Gyuri raised her fist, but Seonghwa stopped her by grabbing her arm. The two glared at each other and trembled with their own rage. She ripped her arm out of Seonghwa’s grasp and pushed him away, only for him to use his brute force to hold her arms back before she could do substantial physical damage. “She is a good person. She might not say things nicely, which is why you all took her the wrong way. She’s never doing anything maliciously.”

“That’s your entire argument?!”

“Yeah! She’s a good person, unlike you with your anger issues!”

In that moment, Gyuri felt her heart shatter into millions of tiny shards, hurting even her lungs and gut. She stared at Seonghwa in complete shock, her arms going weak. Seonghwa let go of her arm. The two avoided eye contact, and Gyuri felt her eyes tear up quickly. Tears spilled of her eyes and she brought herself to look at Seonghwa and speak, her voice wavering. “Is that… what you really think of me?”

Seonghwa stayed silent. The silence confirmed Gyuri’s worst nightmare— no one would ever truly like her because of her personality. Even her best friend of seven years was leaving her because of her and her “anger issues”. Of course. That’s how her life was, and that’s how her life always would be. She was a placeholder until someone actually great came along, kicking her out of their life. “So… you’re going to choose her…”

“Yes,” Seonghwa bit out.

He got up without even glancing in her direction. He barely faced her as he said, “Don’t text or talk to me. Leave us alone.”

With that, he left. Gyuri sat on the park bench completely torn apart. Mingi was the first to appear by her side, San having to hold Yeosang back from chasing after Seonghwa. She wasn’t sobbing the same way she once had in front of San, but the tears just kept falling onto her lap. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, dry her eyes, and lie to the boys that she was fine. She anything but fine. Seonghwa’s insult just kept ringing in her ear. Was he right? Would she never be better than Bora because of her own fucked personality?

Mingi patted her leg as Yeosang and San joined her. She knew for a fact that it was San who hugged her because he was the only one who ever hugged her waist so comfortably. In that moment, she didn’t care if Mingi or Yeosang saw; she found refuge in San’s arms and chest. She grabbed onto his shirt and shoved her face in his chest, her tears not stopping. She wasn’t wailing, but Lord was she close to.

“Gyuri, I am so sorry… I shouldn’t have asked you to do this,” Yeosang said sadly.

“You were really strong, though. I’m proud of you for holding your own,” Mingi tried to encourage her.

Gyuri couldn’t get out a single word. She was so fixated on not crying that she just hugged San closer. All three boys hugged her and tried their best to comfort the crying girl as she sat on the park bench wishing that she got to him before Bora did.

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