#Staying up 2 days is a win for everyone. Grins

[ladymariayuri]

do not give me 2 days off in a row i will sit in my house and play games for 28 hours straight

[isaadore]

ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID, NEVER THE BRIDE CARLOS SAINZ

pairing carlos sainz x best friend!reader

SUMMARY as you stand beside carlos on his wedding day, watching him pledge his life to someone else, memories and silent hopes haunt you. for years, you’d been his confidante, his closest friend, maybe even the one meant for him—or so you thought. now, he slips away into a future that doesn’t include you. word count 1.9k words

warnings ANGST, the reader is kind of selfish and self-centered, carlos is also kind of a red flag

note there’s a possibility of a part 2 if u guys really want to see them together 🤞

THE CHAPEL IS QUIET besides the soft shuffle of footsteps and murmured instructions as people take their places for the wedding rehearsal. You stand toward the back, watching Carlos and his fiancée laugh together at the altar. The two of them look flawless—she, radiant in a dress that reflects the soft light of the stained glass, and him, with that familiar sparkle in his eye. But this time, the sparkle is for someone else. It hasn’t been for you in a long time, and you’ve accepted that. Mostly.

The officiant clears his throat, prompting everyone to get into place, and you feel a nudge at your elbow. One of the bridesmaids is giving you a soft, knowing smile. “You all right?” she asks, her voice a whisper. You return the smile with a nod, brushing off the pang in your chest. It’s silly, really, to feel this way now. But as you turn your attention back to Carlos, his easy laughter filling the room as he looks at his fiancée, you can’t help but feel like you’re watching something break apart inside yourself. You’ve known Carlos for over a decade; shared secrets, fears, dreams—and, maybe foolishly, you thought those moments meant something deeper. You thought, someday, it would be you he looked at like this.

The wedding rehearsal progresses, and everyone goes through the motions, but you drift in and out of focus, memories tugging you backward. You see yourself, more than a decade ago, sitting beside Carlos at a karting track, cheering on racers with passion. It was the summer you met, the two of you inseparable from that day on. You’d sat shoulder to shoulder, laughing and betting on who’d win, and he’d promised he’d race professionally one day. “Formula One,” he’d said with a grin, “just you watch.”

From then on, it was the two of you tackling life together, side by side. Countless late nights, coffee cups stacked high, pouring over notes, and talking about the future. His career took off like he promised, and you watched, proud, as he took to the track just like he’d always said he would. You were his constant cheerleader, always there in the stands for his races, always beside him when things went wrong, and always celebrating when they went right. Friends, family—even strangers—used to say you two were destined. “You’ll end up together, I can see it in your eyes,” they’d say, smiling knowingly. “It’s written in the stars.”

You never said anything to Carlos about those whispers, even when you let yourself hope there might be truth in them. But life, you learned, has its own plans. Time passed, people came and went, and somewhere along the way, the idea of “someday” slipped through your fingers. Carlos met her, and in what felt like an instant, everything changed. The moments you once shared were fewer, his time was taken, his heart somewhere you couldn’t reach. And soon enough, the two of you fell into this unspoken distance. You stayed silent, letting him drift, because you wanted him to be happy—even if it meant being just his friend.

The rehearsal dinner is a warm, intimate gathering, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Carlos and his fiancée sit at the head of the table, surrounded by family and friends, all of whom raise a toast to the happy couple. You sit a little way down, listening to the speeches with a smile plastered on, wondering how, after all these years, you’re suddenly so far away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, caught up in the moment, until later, when he manages to break free from the crowd and find you sitting alone.

“Hey,” he says, sliding into the chair beside you. His gaze is soft, filled with that familiar warmth, and for a second, it feels like you’re back to the two of you, just as you were before.

“Hey,” you respond, a little too casually, trying to hide the flutter in your chest.

He grins, nudging your arm. “I was just telling my fiancée about the time we drove halfway across the city in the middle of the night just because you wanted to see the sunrise over the ocean. She thinks we’re both crazy.”

“We were crazy,” you laugh, the memory bittersweet. “I think I still have sand in my shoes from that trip.” It feels so easy, talking to him like this, like slipping into an old, worn sweater that fits perfectly. And for a moment, the weight of everything else fades away.

His gaze grows distant, and there’s something in his eyes, almost nostalgic. “You remember when we used to joke about getting married if we were both still single by thirty?” he says, his tone light, but you can feel the undercurrent of something else in his voice.

Your heart skips, your own laughter catching in your throat. “I remember,” you say softly. It was always a joke, something you’d laugh about in those late-night talks, back when the idea of growing up still seemed distant. But it was a joke you both wanted to believe in, at least a little.

He meets your eyes, something unreadable flickering across his face, but then he brushes it off with a laugh. “Guess we got a little off track,” he says, his voice casual like he’s trying to make light of it.

You smile, trying to hide the ache inside. “Yeah. Life tends to do that.” You want to say more, to ask him if he ever wonders what might have been, but the words stick in your throat, trapped by the weight of years unspoken.

That night, you lie awake in your hotel room, staring at the ceiling as memories play like a silent movie across your mind. Every late-night conversation, every shared dream, every moment you thought you’d get to keep forever. The reality hits hard, and there’s a sense of finality in it all. Tomorrow, Carlos will belong to someone else in a way he’s never belonged to anyone, and all those years of silent hopes and what-ifs will finally be laid to rest.

A soft knock breaks the silence, and you know who it is before you even open the door. Carlos stands in the hallway, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. “Couldn’t sleep,” he says quietly as if apologizing for being here.

Neither of you speaks as you let him in. He sits on the edge of your bed, looking around your room, and for a moment, you’re transported back to a thousand nights like this—quiet, comfortable, just the two of you in your own little world.

“Feels like old times, huh?” he murmurs, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. There’s a sadness in his eyes, something that tells you he’s feeling the weight of this moment, too.

You nod, swallowing against the tightness in your throat. You want to ask him why he came, why he couldn’t sleep, but instead, you ask the one question you’ve never dared to before. “Carlos… why her?”

He looks at you, startled as if he hadn’t expected the question. For a moment, he seems lost, his gaze shifting down to his hands, his fingers tracing patterns on his palm. “What do you mean?”

You hesitate, struggling to find the right words. “I just… I thought maybe…” You laugh softly, trying to make it sound casual, but the pain is unmistakable. “I thought we were closer, that maybe we could’ve… I don’t know.”

Carlos sighs, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re my best friend,” he says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You’ve always been there for me, through everything. But…” He trails off, searching for words that don’t quite come. “She fits into my life in a way that’s just… different.”

It’s a simple answer, but it hurts more than you’d expected. There’s no twist of fate, no reason beyond his choice, and somehow, that’s worse. Sometimes, love is just a decision, and he chose her.

The day of the wedding dawns bright and warm, and the chapel fills with guests, soft music floating through the air as they take their seats. You stand at the front in your bridesmaid’s dress, trying to ignore the weight of every whispered “what-if” that has lingered over you all these years. You can feel the stares from the guests, their knowing glances as they look at you, wondering why it was never you. They know the history you share with Carlos; they know the stories of two kids who were always meant to be something more. But life, you remind yourself, had other plans.

The music swells, and the bride begins her walk down the aisle. Everyone turns to watch her, but your gaze remains on Carlos, the way his face lights up as he sees her, the love in his eyes so clear, so unshakable. For a moment, he glances your way, and you think you see something—hesitation, maybe even regret—but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a quiet resolve as he turns back to his bride.

The ceremony is beautiful, each word of his vows carving an ache deeper into your heart. He speaks of love, of loyalty, of promises he’ll keep, and you know he means every word. And as they say their vows, you realize, finally and completely, that this is the end of whatever you and Carlos once shared. The life you’d dreamed of with him will remain just that—a dream.

At the reception, the air buzzes with joy and laughter, everyone is caught up in the celebration. You watch from a distance as Carlos dances with his new wife, his gaze never leaving her. They are lost in each other, and you feel, more than ever, like an outsider, a ghost in someone else’s story. But as the night draws on, Carlos finds you, and for one last time, he pulls you into a dance.

“Thank you for being here,” he says softly, his hand warm in yours, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t think I could have done this without you.”

You force a smile, trying to mask the ache in your chest. “Always the bridesmaid, right?” you joke, but your voice cracks, betraying you.

Carlos’s hand tightens for a second, and there’s a look in his eyes you’ll never fully understand. For one last moment, you let yourself imagine that this is your wedding, that you’re the one he’s holding, that you’re the one he chose. But as the song ends, so does the illusion, and he steps back, letting you go. And you realize that this is how it was always meant to end.

As the night fades, you slip away quietly, watching from a distance as Carlos laughs and dances with his bride, surrounded by everyone who loves them. The story you’d clung to for so long is over, and as you walk away, leaving him to his new life, you feel the weight of a decade’s worth of memories finally begin to ease. Carlos will always be a part of you, and you will always be a part of him. But as you disappear into the night, the life you’d imagined fades into memory, a story that never came to be.

Maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ CS55 MASTERLIST

[onsomenewsht]

I just wanna feel something, tell me where to go

About when she wants to win gold and you talk too much but don’t answer her questions

《 read part 2, 'cause everybody knows something I don't wanna know

》 Alexia Putellas x fencer!Reader

》 words count: + 1.7k

》 the mountain’s call [way of saying]: the irresistible pull or urge to pursue a challenging goal or adventure

“You look like someone who needs to see the best place in the entire Village”

Alexia looks up from the pass’ lanyard she’s fidgeting with, finding your open smile even before spotting your outstretched hand. Her eyebrow rises on its own accord, always sceptical around strangers.

The Olympic Village is big enough to welcome the egos of some of the best athletes in the world, but not big enough to avoid their clashing. It’s actually encouraged.

Within a certain limit, obviously.

The footballer sees you in passing almost every day, given that the Spanish Team rooms are basically neighbours with the Italian Team ones. Your outgoing attitude and friendly nature make you pretty popular around the village. The fact you’re easy on the eyes and quite the talk among the players isn’t lost on Alexia either – she likes good gossip like anybody else.

“Come on, Reina, don’t let me stand here like an idiot”, your teasing words take her back from her overthinking one more time.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere celebrating that?”, she points to the medal hanging around your neck.

A genuine smile rises on both your faces as you mindlessly hold the piece of gold to look at it one more time, feeling like this is some kind of dream.

Your gaze falls on Alexia, still sitting in a corner of a communal break room when her teammates are cheering all around for one more victory in their Olympic journey.

“I’m gonna celebrate for the next four years, I can spare some time for you”

“Congratulations, by the way, I heard it’s not the first one”, she takes your hand as you burst out laughing, helping her on her feet.

You may have hosted the closest thing to a party you can do in the Village when, just earlier this week, you won your first gold medal.

It’s not your first Olympics, it’s not even your first Olympic medal. But finally being a gold medalist? An Olympic Champion? You sure could not let it pass over in silence.

The short walk is filled with small talks and giggles, you do most of the talking but Alexia’s grin stays firmly on her face the entire time. You notice her rosy cheeks and more relaxed stance, holding yourself high with pride to finally see the blonde so carefree around you.

“How did you even find this place?”

The night lights of Paris really turn the city into some sort of fantastic dream, the view is easily able to take the breath away from the little balcony you open for her. You’re on top of the biggest complex in the Village, the usual chaos that fills the French capital is somehow just background noise.

“Fencing is an ancient discipline”, you start, barely avoiding Alexia’s playful hit on your arm at your documentary-like approach.

“Jokes aside, the Italian school basically created fencing, but then the French school redefined the system to what it’s like today and they will not shut up about it. It’s a long lasting rivalry between two countries that, sportwise, hate each other”

“Everyone hates the French, sportwise”, the Spain captain agrees, mimicking your move as you sit on the floor of the balcony.

“Fencing into the Grand Palais in fucking Paris is like playing every single game as a World Cup final against the host country in a stadium filled with their fans and colours”

“Dramatic”

“Of course! You’re putting Italian and French people in the same place, asking them to fight with swords, literally. It’s gonna be dramatic”, you let your gaze wander around as the blonde’s one tries to find something inside you.

Alexia waits for you, understanding just now how your cheerful and playful behaviour hides something more complex.

She has turned on your Team Final on her way back from the stadium, curious about it – about you – after the little party you put on for the entire Village following your Individual Final victory.

She got nothing about what was happening, not understanding how some hits were good and others were given away or not counted. She prides herself on being able to recognise good athleticism and quick leg ability though. The way you move on the piste, quickly but precisely in every single gesture, is mesmerising. The way your mind acts even faster than your body is even more captivating.

What surprised her the most is the way you hold back.

While your opponents celebrate any conceded hits and your teammates celebrate loudly all the successful points, you stay stoic and firm the entire time.

It’s something she doesn’t expected from you, usually so excited about everything.

That’s probably one of the reasons that brings her here with you in the first place.

“You don’t look dramatic when you fence”

“Oh, you watched me?”

“It was the bare minimum after your detailed commentary after our last game”

“I’m Italian, I’m a football fan from birth”, you say, rolling your eyes humorously, not ready to reveal that the Spanish team is the only one you care about keeping up with during this Olympic tournament.

Alexia Putellas just admitted she turned on your Final to see you win a gold medal.

“Wait, let’s just go back to you watching me fence”

She smile at your weak attempt to avoid her question, genuinely amused about you but pretty sure you’re gonna tell her everything she asks – eventually.

A comfortable silence between the two of you fills the air for some minutes, somehow guiding your bodies closer.

“How did you find this place?”, the Catalan winks when you turn to look at her.

“I hate fencing with the French”, you start to explain after a bit with a serious note underneath your voice, “I lost my last Olympic Individual Final against a reckless fencer with the most annoying Parisian accent ever”

Another moment passes, Alexia doesn’t pressure you but can feel you relax when she places her hand on your knee.

“Last time I was in Paris, I injured myself. I was out for nine months and lost two major tournaments. This Olympics being hosted here as I was supposed to redeem myself and prove to be good enough at the same time? Really took a turn on me at first”, you avoid her gaze as you sum up one of your biggest fears to a stranger on a balcony viewing Paris’ landscape.

“I needed a place to escape without running away”

“And here we are, facing Paris from a hiding spot”

How the footballer manages to understand you so well in such a short amount of time, in such an unusual setting, is really something that surprises you. Your eyes meet and you can distinctly feel your heart skip a bit.

“I befriended a handyman, this floor is for staff only as some sort of control room”

“This explains the private balcony”

“I should have started with this and not the unasked story of my life”

You can still feel Alexia’s hand on you, mindlessly caressing your leg as you try not to implode and hide the redness of your face. She smirks.

“We’ll play France in the semifinal”, she says with a hint of disbelief and irony.

“Fuck the French”, you state solemnly, “It’s basically a wanna-be repeat of the Champions League’s final, you’re going to be fine”

“If you just jinxed it–”

“I did not, I know an Olympic Champion when I see one”

The burst of confidence and the firmness in your voice, despite the easy way you’re both talking about Spain’s next game, are enough to subside the noises inside Alexia’s head – your voice is a good distraction and your presence is a welcoming discovery.

“How is it?”

“What?”

The blonde’s finger points at the piece of gold still hanging on your neck, you’re just glad it’s her other hand as you look back and forth between her and the medal.

“You won enough to know how it is”

“It’s my first Olympics”

“In Italian there’s a word, I don’t know if you have the same difference in Spanish. It’s olimpionico and it’s not like olimpico – olympic”

“You never go for the straight answer, do you?”, she interrupts you with a teasing smile.

“No, never done anything the straight way my entire life, now let me go on with my wise and deep talk”, you graciously – and quite bravely on your part, if you must say so yourself – drop your arm around her shoulder, releasing a breath as she smoothly adjusts her body closer.

“Olimpionico is formed from the Greek ᾿Ολύμπια, which means ‘competitions of Olympia’ so our Olympic Games, and the root of νικάω, that I don’t know to explain how but can be translated with ‘victory’ or ‘winner’ and you have to trust me on this one”, you’ve never been happier with your strict education and the Italian questionable school system.

“I’m still waiting for the point”

“I mean to say we have a specific word for an Olympic athlete who doesn’t just compete in the Olympic Games but actually wins”

“You won enough Olympic medals to know how it is”

“The last time we won bronze as a team and I lost the gold against the obnoxious Frenchwoman, Alexia, keep up”, you’re perfectly aware of her hand on your thigh and her eyes burning on your face – she definitely noticed your red cheeks and the cracks on your walls.

“It’s my first Individual gold and this is my first Team gold, it’s– I don’t know how to explain, but it’s–”

“It’s olimpionico?”, she indulges you, her accent around the Italian word is way more charming than the French one.

“You get it”

“Olympic Champion sounds so uncool now”

As the night turns into a darker shade of black and the Paris lights really do the city’s name justice, you feel like there’s something profound linking you with the athlete curled on your side.

It’s a shared desire to prove yourself to everyone, while wanting to make just a few close people proud. It’s a shared hunger to be the best among some of the greatest, but to make sure the ones around you shine as much.

It’s a shared feeling, deep inside, telling you’re right where you’re supposed to be.

[mimasroom2]

My tennis star! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Secretly dating jock!ellie

C/w: smut but for like 2 seconds. Mention of weed lol. Uhh that’s it this is pretty laid back. This is my first time using those fake texting things I think I like it? Idk

W/c: ≈ 800

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

- She plays tennis bc I said so 🎾

- She’d win a match and she’d post on her instagram story something REAL cheesy like “only reason why we won is because someone special was in the crowd💖” and everyone thinks she’s talking ab a guy but it’s really you >•<

- She’d pull you aside into an empty hallway and lean over you with her arm up (yknow. The classic masc move.) and whisper “You comin’ to the game tonight, baby?”

- It’s so fucking cheesy but you swear she makes your knees weak every time she talks with her sexy ass voice.

- “Too bad I can’t have a massive ass sign that says your name on it all big or something.” You grin widely and she laughs, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

- You guys go on dates to the mall so she can buy new workout clothes & equipment. Every time you guys see someone you know in a store you split up and pretend to be looking at different things on other ends of the store. Eventually when they leave you two come back together and giggle.

- “Heya stranger.” She grins, showing you some knee high socks she found while she was pretending to look around.

- Only your two best friends know ab you and Ellie, so you’re always having to make up excuses as to why you’re going to the tennis games.

- “They needed help with grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for the game, and you know I always need more service hours!”

- “Man I’m sorry I can’t go to the movies tonight. I already told the tennis coach I’d do face painting for the little kids that come😕”

- You’re studying at your desk when the first message from Ellie absolutely jumpscares you. The girl really needs to learn about context 🙄

- Absolutely all the girls in the crowd and on the opposing team would swoon over her. She lovesssss the attention and always waves at the crowd and blows kisses to them. Sometimes she winks at the girls on the other team to purposefully distract them as they’re serving. You don’t feel jealous though because you know as soon as the game’s over you’re going back to her place to celebrate ;)

- You feel so fucking lucky you’re dating a jock as her toned muscular arm is pumping in and out of you.

- “Fuck,, guess all that racket swinging comes in handy when I’m fucking you, hm?” She smirks, and she was actually right. She could practically finger you forever and never get tired.

- She’s a perfectionist with her playing and in bed. She’d have to make you cum at least twice before she’s satisfied.

- The next morning Ellie has to leave early for practice so she lets you stay in her room to sleep in. She texts you a WHOLE BUNCH, effectively spamming your phone and waking you up:

- She comes up to you one day out of the blue and says “Hey y/n, I’m like so serious can you hide all my stoner shit until this season is over…?” You knew she smoked but she told you she only does it when she’s off in tennis, so you’re surprised when she hands you a shoebox full of all her stuff.

- “Yeah ‘m fine. Coach has been gettin’ on to me. Jus’ more stressed out is all.” Is all she has to say when you ask about it. She runs her hands through her hair, thinking you’re frustrated with her. You’re just glad she trusts you enough to make her keep her promises to herself.

- She’d ask you what your favorite color is and get a special racket in that color for whenever you see her play. She’d say it’s her lucky racket :,)

- You were never super into sports but you loveeeee spending time with Ellie, so she decides to give you some one on one lessons.

- “Yeah, thas’ it, baby.” She’d mutter in your ear from behind you. She’s holding the racket with you and helping you swing your arms the right way.

- You guys didn’t expect to see anyone on the tennis court this early, so when other people come and Ellie recognizes them, she quickly guides you guys behind a tree.

- Your stomach is filled with butterflies as she tucks your loose hair behind your ear and kisses you !!

- You feel like a little kid playing in the woods again because now you and Ellie are sneaking around the park/tennis court trying not to be seen by the other people

- She gets really cocky sometimes and posts soft launches of you on her insta stories

- It would be a picture of you in her lap WAHH! Her tattooed hand is on your thigh with the caption “keeping me occupied”

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

[drvscarlett]

Let Him Cook Pt 3

Charles Leclerc x MasterChef contestant!reader

Series Part: 1, 2, 3

Taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life @ririyulife @minkyungseokie @mehrmonga @sltwins @charlesgirl16 @six-call @spideybv28 @casperlikej

"I honestly can't believe that this is actually happening"you told Charles as you sit down on your couch with your laptop.

The past few days have been a lot of preparation for the three most important dish of your life. You have been replicating and timing yourself to make sure that you are a perfectly well-oiled machine during the competition proper.

Charles is currently in Abu Dhabi for the final race which is a complete bummer. He wanted to be there but work is work. So that's why he spends most of his available time doing a facetime with you. It was pretty helpful since his conversations with you helps soothe your nerve and helps avoid overthinking the whole process.

"You got this mon amour. You know I always believed in you since day 1" Charles grinned.

"I really hope that everything goes well tomorrow"

"It will and I will be watching all the way from Yas Marina to hear that my girlfriend is a MasterChef winner"Charles proudly states "I'm really getting so excited, is this how you feel when you watch me race?"

You laughed "Oh mon ami, you are much more stressful to watch with your high speed corners and those wet race misshaps"

"But doesn't this technically make me your WAG if you win? Don't they have WAG gossip accounts that I could be part in?"

It was moments like this that Charles made everything lighter by focusing on trivial things. It helps a lot with the building pressure that everyone has been placing on your shoulder.

Y/NCooks posted a photo.

Y/NCooks the boyfriend is so supportive. I'm pretty excited for today!

Gordongram goodluck Y/N! Boyfriend reveal when you win?

User1 Gordon is so real for that Y/NCooks thanks Chef! Lets see???

User2 win or lose, you already made it Y/N!

User3 its just so wholesome to see how Y/N keeps the relationship private but never secret. I ship them so much

User4 i don't know if i want to be Y/N or I want to be her boyfriend

User5 goodluck Y/N! Get that trophy!

Final episode.

Former contestants lined up at the balcony with some of your friends and close relatives. It was a very surreal moment because you used to watch this sitting in the comforts of your own home and now you are actually the one being watched.

The moment that the clock starts ticking, you started to work. There was no room for any delays today as you were creating dishes after dishes. You have to use your time wisely so that you can finish the dishes you have in mind.

"Charles, were going out to drink, are you coming?"

"You guys go ahead, I'm going to watch something" The minute that the cars were back in the garage and the ceremony was over, Charles couldn't wait to go back to his hotel room. He was to turn on his TV to watch the live broadcast of the MasterChef Australia.

He was just on time with the last five minutes of the appetizer round, technically he haven't miss much. You were focused in tasting everything and ensuring that all the flavors are there. You plated really well and it shows how much you have grown. Charles is extremely proud of you.

"Aren't you a little worried to be working on the octopus so early on?" the judges wondered. The judges were currently tasting the soup that you have given them.

"I know that its a lot of risk but I have to push for it to show my talent"

The judges find the soup beautifully seasoned but their only slight flaw with the dish is that the octopus is a little bit tough due to the water not boiling hot enough. Its that flaw that sets a 2 point difference with your fellow contestant.

Charles could feel his eyes getting heavier from all the events earlier that day but he really wants to stay awake. He believes that Y/N could do it. The main course was a stronger dish for Y/N which is how she tied the score with her fellow contestant.

The dessert is the make and break for Y/N. Charles knew that its also her greatest opponent as you prefer savory over sweet. However, seeing the way that you are cooking right now that you have massively improved your skills in the sweets department.

It was tense as you run back and forth to the freezer to make sure that the pana cotta is chilled enough while you went back to your work station to mix the pot. Charles almost had a headache after seeing you trip over in the last 20 minutes of the session.

But all in all you pulled it off. The dessert was stunning and exquisite as the judges noticed. It was an elevated traditional pana cotta

"I believe we have made a decision and the scores are very very close with each other" one of the judges concluded.

The guests from the balcony went down to join the homecooks and Charles wishes that he could have been there for you. Instead, he records the moment through his phone. The announcement will be here in any seconds now.

"And the MasterChef Australia winner is....."

MasterChefAU just posted a photo.

Liked by Gordongram, Charles_Leclerc, and 670,000 others

MasterChefAU congratulations to Y/NCooks you are the MasterChef Australia winner!

User1 That was worth the wait, Y/NCooks is now a masterchef winner!

User2 she was so brilliant! what a performance!!!

User3 tell me why is Charles Leclerc is in the likes, isn't it like 4am there in Abu Dhabi?? Didn't you just race sir???

User4 Seems like Charles is a fan of MC Australia User5 Answer the crowd Charles_Leclerc User6 Didn't Arthur and Lorenzo guest in MC Australia, they say they are good friends of Y/N User7 That is some interesting information User6

Y/NCooks posted a photo.

liked by MasterChefAU, Charles_Leclerc, and 308,000 others

Y/NCooks I have a new plate!!!!

It was such a wonderful experience to be a part of this kitchen and to win this prestigious award. Thank you so much for all your support and love. This is such a dream come true!!

User1 im so proud of her

User2 Can't wait what's next for you!

Gordongram Well-deserve! You did amazing!

Y/NCooks this means a lot Chef! Thank you for watching

MasterChefAU Our winner!!!!

Charles_Leclerc 🏆❤️

User3 what even is that? you are putting sebastian vettel to shame with your rizz User4 Charles, she has a boyfriend!!!!!!! User5 Bro really thinks he can bag Y/N when he can't even cook Y/NCooks Thank you :')) Charles_Leclerc liked this comment. User6 SHUT UP, CHARLES IS COOKING SOMETHING User7 Silence for Y/N's bf, Charles is coming after your seat!

[benispunk]

Lucky Number

logan howlett x reader

Logan wants to know why 12 is Y/N's lucky number. He might be falling in love all over again.

TW: language

Masterlist

\I/

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening. Not because she could finally relax, have some time for herself, enjoy the silence of her room without, most of the time, anyone in the mansion interrupting it… Well, maybe yes, it was that. But that’s not the point. 

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening because she could finally spend time with Logan outside of the school’s routine, out of everyone's eye sights, just the two of them against the world.

And this evening wasn’t any different. She absolutely adored those moments with him as he looked and sounded so relaxed, and she felt as if she was falling more and more in love with him every single time.

She had bought a bottle wine and some appetizers that she had hidden in the kitchen all day, just for their special night, and Logan would do the same. Even though their relationship was official to everyone in the mansion, they always felt the need to sneak into each other’s rooms like teenagers in love.

One time, Logan was discreetly walking towards her door with two glasses in hand and his bottle of whiskey under his arm when he heard someone cough at the end of the corridor. He turned around, startled. Scott had been standing there, probably waiting to catch one of the two lovers and embarrass them. Logan stood there, saying nothing before flipping him off and entering Y/N’s room. 

She sat curled up on her bed, a glass of red wine in hand, as she lazily picked at a plate of cheese and crackers between sips. Logan sat next to her, leaning against the headboard, holding his own glass of whiskey, his eyes glinting with amusement. He could stay there for days, listening to her talk, laugh, watching her smile. Anything that had to do with her, he needed to be there. 

They had been playing a ridiculous card game for the last 20 minutes where you had to pick a number between one and twenty and then pick two cards, the closest to their number wins.

They were laughing again when Logan leaned forward with another challenge, his grin cocky. “Alright, one more time.”

Y/N smiled wide and quickly answered, “Twelve!”

Logan narrowed his eyes at her this time, his smirk softening into something more curious. “Again with twelve?” he asked, amused. “That’s the third time tonight you’ve picked twelve.”

Y/N blinked. “No, it’s not,” she said, a little too defensively, taking a bigger sip of wine. Maybe she should slow down with the drinking part.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Yeah, it is. You even won with that number.” He gave her a knowing look. “And now this. You pickin' twelve on purpose or somethin’? Are you cheating?”

She gasped at the accusation, « How dare you accuse me of such a crime? A girl can’t have a lucky number anymore. » She sipped some more wine dramatically, which made Logan laugh. How much she loved that sound.

Logan’s grin widened as he leaned in a bit closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Lucky number, huh? What makes twelve so special?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and swirling the whiskey in his glass.

Y/N felt her breath catch slightly, the warmth from the wine making her feel just a bit too relaxed. She hadn’t even realized she'd been picking twelve that much. It just... came out. It was her lucky number indeed. And now, Logan was asking about it. Oh no.

She gave a casual shrug, trying to play it off. "Oh, you know… twelve’s just... a good number. Balanced. You know, 1 plus 2 equals 3, and… uh, three’s cool."

Logan tilted his head, staring at her with an amused expression that said he wasn’t buying a word of it. « Then why not pick three? »

She could feel the heat rising to her face even more. He was too perceptive. She tried to shrug again, but it came off awkward. « I—I don’t know! Twelve just feels… lucky, I guess."

But Logan wasn’t letting it go. Of coure, he wasn’t. He leaned in even closer, his voice a low tease. "You’re hiding something." His tone was playful, but his eyes held a tenderness that made her feel even more flustered. "Why twelve, darlin’?"

Y/N's heart raced as she realized there was no escaping the truth. She hadn’t even thought about it consciously until now, but of course, twelve was special. It was his birthday— October 12. And the more she thought about it, the more it embarrassed her. It felt too sweet, too sentimental to admit out loud, but Logan's gaze was gentle, and she knew he wouldn't let up until she told him.

She cleared her throat and bit her lip, looking anywhere but at him. "It's... It’s your birthday. » she finally mumbled, barely above a whisper, still trying to avoid his eyes. "October 12. That’s why it’s... my lucky number."

There was a pause— a silence that stretched just long enough for her to regret saying it, but when she glance up at Logan, she saw something different in his expression. His face softened, his eyes widening just a bit before something warm and quiet settled in them. For a second, he seemed speechless, which rarely happened with Logan.

« My birthday?" he asked, his voice softer than before, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Y/N nodded, feeling vulnerable and a little embarrassed. « Yes. I’m sorry this is so embarrass— » 

“Put your glass down,” he said firmly, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“What?” she asked, confusion clouding her expression.

Without missing a beat, Logan took her glass from her hand and placed it gently on the nightstand beside his own. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a tender kiss.

Time seemed to pause as they melted into each other, the warmth of the moment enveloping them. Every worry, every ounce of embarrassment faded away as Y/N felt herself sink deeper into the kiss, the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his lips mixing with the sweetness of the wine on hers.

Her lucky number was his birthday. How fucking wonderful. What did he even do to deserve that? To deserve her. His grip on her tightened slightly, pulling her closer as if he wanted to fuse their bodies together, to ensure that nothing could ever come between them. How lucky he was.

When they finally broke away, he held her gaze with a softness that made her heart race. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The moment hung between them. Y/N could see the sincerity in his gaze, the way he was allowing himself to be vulnerable. Her heart ached with love. But he wasn’t done.

His hand cradled her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. “You keep doin’ this—showin’ me how much I mean to you… » He paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, « I’m falling for you all over again,” he confessed, his voice low and raw. 

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, a smile breaking through her earlier embarrassment. « See why twelve’s my lucky number? »

Logan laughed softly, a glint of mischief in his eyes, before he suddenly lunged forward, pinning her down onto the bed. Y/N squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up as he captured her lips in a quick kiss. The warmth of his body over hers ignited sparks of electricity that left her breathless.

As they broke apart, he held her gaze, his eyes gleaming with adoration. The warmth between them crackled with unspoken affection, and Y/N felt her heart swell. If he was her lucky charm, she was his too.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, their foreheads touching as they breathed each other in. Logan leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper and more lingering, their lips brushing together softly. The moment was pure magic. 

Y/N felt happiness enveloping her, knowing that luck wasn’t just about numbers; it was about sharing her life with him.

XXX

[junnieverse]

IT GIRL L♡VER ➳ ENHYPEN

➙ what it's like for enhypen to be dating their s/o who is also an idol

pairing: enhypen x afab!reader

genre: fluff, a tiny bit suggestive under heeseung's

request: " Cutie patotiiiiii. What do we think about enhypen dating an idol s/o? Maybe even the it girl of the generation? Sending you lots of love <3 ~ sunshine ☀️"

a/n: here it is anon, thank you for the request sweetie and sending you even more love right back, hope you like it!

a/n (2): it has also been brought to my attention that @/rlcswo on tiktok has stolen this word for word so please do go and report this user everyone

a/n (3): shameless self promo, I have a new enha series so please do check it out, thank you <3

🖇️ — 양정원 ; JUNGWON !

he is constantly doing covers of your group's dances

he is a bit more lowkey and 'professional' about your relationship

more 'private but not secret' because he knows how you both need to keep your work separated to your private life

but he will be posting his selcas with you to show fans how smitten he is

jungwon is already incredibly active on weverse always replying to fans but now talking about you is all he ever does

'Jungwon how was your day?' a fan would ask

'Just had lunch with my sweet (y/n) and now I'm going to practice!'

biggest simp ever actually

sees you on the big screen during an award show and he's all smiles now, it's adorable :(

but ofcourse you would be displaying the biggest grin ever seeing jungwon shining on stage too

🖇️ — 이희승 ; HEESEUNG !

this man would risk it all for your relationship

whenever you were both together in public he would always be overly affectionate (giving dispatch a field day with the amount of content)

he knows you want to keep things a bit more private despite being in a confirmed public relationship because engene are a little... yeah

but ofcourse majority of them were very supportive and found you and hee to be such a cute couple

the amount of edits of him giving you 'the look' and fans constantly commenting how they wished they were you even for just a second

you'd usually try to stay composed around heeseung but your boyfriend was a tease and he wanted to see you become a flustered mess even on camera

k-netz knew this too because during an enhypen performance, when heeseung's part would come up the camera workers would always try to get the camera on you to get your reaction

let's just say there are many YouTube compilation videos of you simping for your boyfriend

'(Y/n) folding for Heeseung for 8 minutes straight'

🖇️ — 박종성 ; JAY !

jay usually keeps your relationship with him private unless it is brought up or he has something to say about you relating to something he was talking about

"Speaking of actually, (Y/n) showed me how to play this new song on my guitar." jay says during the live as he played a few chords

and during the en o clock episode where he was making muscles for the boys, he wasn’t sure on how to make them and so he called you to help him

fans found it endearing how he causally stayed on the call with you throughout him cooking and his phone would pass around the boys whilst they all said hi and made small talk with you

it soon became a normal thing where during lives if you were to call you would say hi to engene and during your lives he would say hi to your fans

he's always buying you gifts

during your lives there is atleast one item you have on that you'll mention saying you got it as a gift from jay

jay is very much into his rock music and that's pretty much 95% of his Spotify and then the other 5% is your group's songs

🖇️ — 심재윤 ; JAKE !

the most supportive boyfriend ever

best believe he is cheering the loudest during your performances and when your group wins an award

if it's one thing jake was gonna do, it was shamelessly promote you and your group's music

he plays atleast one song from your group during his solo lives and he talks about which songs he likes more and how hard you worked on it

during interviews, just from hearing your name he becomes like a happy pup wagging it's tail like it's time for his walk

the members always tease him for how much of a simp he is but fans find it so cute and wish for a jake of their own

'10 minutes of Jake being (Y/n)'s biggest fan'

you both have matching couple rings that you never take off even during performances

overall just super proud to call himself your boyfriend :(

🖇️ — 박성훈 ; SUNGHOON !

when ni-ki mentioned how sunghoon has high standards he wasnt lying, but then again you are the standard :p

a complete show off unlike jungwon

"Oh you know (y/n)? Yeah they're my girlfriend, isn't she pretty." he would say during a live

despite your protests telling him to stop he just wants everyone to know that your his

now he's all boastful when you aren't there but the minute you're both in one room, it's like he doesn't know how to act

hoon becomes almost robotic and can't even maintain eye contact with you

gets all shy in front of everyone and can't show you any pda

you both had to mc together once and hoon kept stumbling over his words and would blush everytime you looked over to him and smiled

the 4th gen it couple everyone loves and wants to be or be like

🖇️ — 김선우 ; SUNOO !

being called the 'sunshinez' as your couple nickname

loves spending time with you

he passed the friend check too and your members absolutely adore him (just as much as the enha members adore you)

you didn't know this until he mentioned it on a live but he collects your pcs

your no. 1 fanboy that's for sure

fans even noticed how you'd both started picking up small habits from each other

the couple that has all the juiciest tea on people in the industry

fans soon found out you'd actually been supporting him since his i-land days and found it so special

he posts atleast one photo he has with you atleast once a week and it's always the cutest thing

🖇️ — 西村 力 ; NI-KI !

he loves seeing you wearing his clothes during lives or part of your airport fashion

similarly to jake, you and riki have matching couple necklaces that you always have on

now riki usually keeps to himself but when it comes to you he suddenly comes out from his cave

he could disappear without posting for weeks to a month but when your group has a comeback he is the first to post it on his weverse to promote it and fans will tease him about it

'Ni-ki coming out of the trenches to hype up his girl' fans would say

'You'll know Riki's alive when he makes a post about or with (y/n)'

ofcourse netizens are quick to notice that too calling it couple goals

if he's not out with jake then he's either at home or with you, no in between

he's always sharing inside jokes he has with you to fans and they love how happy you make him

if ni-ki isn't updating fans, they come to you begging you to tell your boyfriend and miraculously he updates on social media

[acknowledge-reigns]

Animals | Jacob Fatu x Black!fem OC (SMUT) 18+!!!

Kinktober Day #8: Breeding & Marking

"Baby, I'm preying on you tonight.

Hunt you down eat you alive

Just like animals.

Animals, Like animals-mals..." 🎶

Description: Jacob celebrates his tag title win with his wife

Warnings: Breeding, marking, rough sex, possessiveness (on a healthy level?), somewhat primal, dirty talk, degradation, vaginal sex.

Face claim: Saweetie

MDNI!! 18+ BELOW THE CUT

My masterlist can be found here and my kinktober schedule can be found here.

As always my fics are based in kayfabe, not about real people.

tag list - @mysticreigns2 @queeny23 @jeyusos-girl @notfancyrebelpaper @xbriexx @skyesthebomb @mzv11 @paigereeder @glitterywitchstarlight @v4mp-reads @hunnidmilly

Jacob sat in the bloodline locker room, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his wife, Arielle. He had just won his first championship in WWE and was eager to celebrate with her. She had flown in just for his championship match.

As he paced back and forth, the door swung open and Arielle walked in, a smile on her face. "Congrats, babe," she said, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm so proud of you."

Jacob and Arielle had been together for a little over five years, initially she was just his hairstylist. Nights and nights of sitting up just the two of them laughing and bonding while she did his retwist brought on feelings neither of them could ignore.

the amount of times she'd pop his hand with her comb and scold him for his inability to stay still made her feel like she was turning into her grandmama. No one knew how to work her last nerve like Jacob Fatu.

And coincidentally, no one had ever given her butterflies like Jacob Fatu. His laugh was contagious. His genuine personality. He'd swept her off her feet. The way his goofy ass had insisted on telling people that in this story the little mermaid falls for the big bad wolf, not the prince. This of course being a play on her name being Arielle and his gimmick being the Samoan werewolf.

Jacob spent the last 5+ years grinding and putting in blood, sweat and tears on the Indies to support her and their growing family, they had two children, Kirsten (4) and Samuel (2) whom Arielle had sent off with her parents for the weekend so that she and Jacob could have their moment to celebrate. The struggle was over.

Jacob pulled her close, breathing in her scent. "Thank you, baby," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Arielle looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "So, what are we going to do to celebrate?" she asked.

Jacob grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I have something in mind," he said, his voice low and seductive. "But I think we should go back to the hotel first."

Arielle raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Lead the way," she said, a playful smile on her lips.

Once they arrived at the hotel, Jacob quickly pulled Arielle into the room and closed the door behind them. He pinned her against the wall, his body pressing against hers.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he growled.

Jacob's hands roamed over Arielle's body, his touch possessive and hungry. He nipped at her earlobe, his breath hot against her skin. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Arielle moaned as Jacob's lips moved down to her collarbone. "I'm all yours, Jacob," she said, her voice breathless. "I've always been yours."

Jacob pulled back slightly, his eyes burning with desire. "Good," he said, his hands sliding down to her hips. "... 'Cause I'm bout to mark you as mine tonight."

He picked her up and carried her over to the bed, laying her down gently before crawling on top of her.

Jacob hovered over Arielle, his eyes roaming over her body. He could feel the heat building between them, the primal urge to claim her as his own growing stronger with every passing second.

He leaned down and captured her lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. Arielle moaned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

Jacob broke the kiss and began trailing kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin. "I'm going to leave marks all over your body," he growled. "So that everyone knows you belong to me."

Arielle gasped as Jacob's teeth grazed her skin, the sharp sting sending a thrill through her body. "Yes," she moaned, arching her back. "Mark me, Jacob. I want everyone to know who I belong to..."

Jacob growled low in his throat, his hands roaming over her body possessively. He nipped and sucked at her skin, leaving a trail of purple-ish red marks in his wake.

He moved down to her breasts, taking one of her nipples into his mouth and biting down gently. Arielle cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair as he worked his way down her body.

Jacob positioned himself between Arielle's legs, his eyes locked on hers. "Ready for me to breed this lil pussy again, baby? " he said, his voice low and seductive.

He thrust into her hard, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. Arielle gasped, her nails digging into his back as she adjusted to his size.

Jacob began to move, his thrusts rough and possessive. He pounded into her relentlessly, his eyes burning with desire. "Mine," he growled, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "Mine to fuck. Mine to mark. Mine to breed."

Arielle's moans filled the room, her body arching up to meet Jacob's every thrust. She could feel his primal desire, his need to claim her as his own, and it only served to turn her on even more.

"Harder," she gasped, her nails digging deeper into his back.

Jacob grunted, his pace quickening as he gave her exactly what she wanted. He drove into her with brutal force, his signature crazy eyes flashing with dominance.

"You like that, don't you?" he growled. "You like it when when I breed you like a lil bitch in heat.... Gonna knock you up again. Gotta grow the bloodline, babygirl."

Arielle's body tensed, her muscles clenching around Jacob's cock as he continued to pound into her. "Please," she gasped, her voice desperate. "Please, breed me, Jacob. I need it."

Jacob's thrusts became even more frantic, his movements becoming erratic as he felt his own release approaching.

"I'm going to come," Jacob growled, his body tensing. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum and breed you so good."

Arielle cried out, her body convulsing as she reached her own climax. "Yes!" she screamed, her back arching off the bed. "Yes, Jacob, breed me! Give me your cum!"

Jacob let out a guttural cry as he finally reached his peak, his hips jerking as he emptied himself inside her. He collapsed on top of her, his body slick with sweat as he panted for breath.

Jacob lay on top of Arielle, his body spent but satisfied. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent as he tried to catch his breath.

"You did so well, baby," he murmured, his voice rough with exhaustion. Jacob slowly pulled out of Arielle, wincing slightly at the loss of contact. He looked down at her, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

"Let me clean you up," he said, his voice low and gentle. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a towel, then began to wipe her down gently, making sure to be extra careful with her sensitive areas.

Once he was finished cleaning her up, Jacob tossed the towel aside and lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms. He stroked her hair gently, his touch soothing and comforting.

"You did so well," he repeated, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You were such a good girl for your alpha." he stated, their honorific being 'Alpha' of course another play on the whole werewolf thing. As an avid romance reader, Arielle loved every bit of it.

Arielle snuggled into Jacob's chest, feeling safe and content in his arms. "I love you," she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy.

Jacob tightened his arms around her, holding her close. "I love you too, baby," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "You're mine forever, and I'll always take care of you."

[theta-walti]

Dreams Under The Sun

Summary: Olga teaches an afternoon class, there she meets Daisy and you.

Warnings: none :)

A/N: This is one that l have kept in my drafts for ages now, but here we go! This is also a request by someone l used to like, l hope you had fun reading this 🫶 request if yall want a part 2!

Word count: 1k, short blub :)

The sun was just beginning set, sending out a golden glow over Madrid. Olga sat on a chair near the dining table as she laced up her boots. Today was a special day – not because it's a match, but because of a promise she had made.

Olga walked out of her apartment and headed quickly toward a small local football pitch. She was almost late so she had to hurry. It was a Saturday, and she had agreed to host a training session for a group of young girls from all around the neighbourhood. When she arrived, the girls were waiting for her, their faces lighting up as she approached.

“Good morning, everyone!”

She greeted, her smile bright and kind. The girls, ages from six to twelve, gathered around, their excitement increased as more time passed.

“Are you ready to play?”

Olga asked, kneeling to be at eye level with them. They all nodded enthusiastically.

For the next hour, Olga led them through simple drills, sharing tips and tricks she had learned over the years. She showed them how to control the ball, how to defend, and most importantly, how to believe in themselves.

“Remember, it’s not just about skill,”

She said, pausing the practice for a moment.

“It’s about your hearts. Never give up, no matter what.”

One of the girls, Daisy, who was particularly shy, but she seemed to do better under Olga’s teaching. Olga noticed her potential, so she spent a little bit of extra time encouraging her, showing her how to dribble past defenders with confidence.

After the session, Olga sat with the girls, sharing stories from her own career. She told them about the challenges she faced, the hard work it took to reach the top, and the joy of scoring the winning goal in the World Cup final.

“Dream big,”

As she told them, there was a lot of awes and wows. The girls did look up on Olga, a lot too in that fact.

“You can achieve anything if you believe in yourself and work hard.”

As the session officially ended and the parents slowly went to pick up their kids, Daisy stayed behind. She walked towards Olga, wearing her Real Madrid backpack and holding out a small notebook and pen.

“Could you sign this for me please?”

She asked as her eyes shined, she was talking to her hero. Daisy had looked up on Olga ever since she was able to walk, meeting her today was an absolute dream come true.

Olga had nodded with a smile, taking the notebook. She signed on the page that has her name on it and chuckled.

“Your planning to collect a lit of signatures huh?"

Daisy just giggled, and Olga smiled as she gave the notebook back to the little girl, Daisy smiled as she went and sat next to Olga.

"Keep practicing, and one day, you’ll be a star too."

"Mama always says that whatever you do, don't give up, always try your best, even though it gets hard sometimes"

Olga nodded as she continued the conversation. Although it was ready quite late, she had started to wonder where Daisy's mother was.

"What you mama is true, speaking of her, where is she? Do you know?"

She said with a soft voice, Daisy only shook her head, not sure.

"Mama has a really important job. Maybe she's late because she's still working"

Just on cue, you came running on the pitch, Hair messy and looking tired, your also wearing a dark red suit and black heels. When Daisy noticed you, she grinned and ran towards you.

"Mama!!"

Daisy engulfed you into a hug and her smile brightened, while you were hugging Olga walked over.

"Flo did really well today. She has the potential to achieve something amazing in football"

You nodded as Daisy let go, listening in the conversation.

"That's good, yes, l remember Daisy has been interested in football ever since she can run. Whenever she sees a ball, she always runs and plays with it"

Olga chuckled, her eyes lighting up as she looked at Daisy.

"Well, she's got talent, that's for sure," she said warmly. "If she keeps practising, who knows? Maybe one day, she'll be able to play with me professionally in the pitch."

You smiled proudly, glancing down at your daughter, who was beaming from ear to ear.

"She’s always admired you, Olga,"

you admitted.

"Thank you for spending time with her today. It means the world to her—and to me."

Olga dismisses the thanks with a modest smile.

"It’s my pleasure. I remember being her age, dreaming of the big leagues. Sometimes, all it takes is someone showing a bit of faith to turn that dream into a reality."

Daisy, still clutching her signed notebook, looked up at Olga with stars in her eyes.

"Will you come back next Saturday?"

she asked eagerly, Olga crouched down to meet her gaze.

"Of course, Daisy. I’ll be here as long as you’re ready to work hard and have fun."

She gave her a playful wink, which made Daisy giggle. As you and Daisy started to leave, Olga had said something.

"And remember, don’t let anyone tell you what you can or can't do. Just keep believing in yourself!"

Daisy nodded, her little face serious with determination. Her hand clutched yours tightly as you walked away, her voice bubbling over with excitement.

"Mama, did you hear that? She believes in me!"

You smiled, squeezing her hand in return.

"I did, sweetheart. And I believe in you too. Just keep chasing that dream, and who knows where it'll take you."

A/N: l finally posted after a while 🤦‍♀️ l am currently editing my lia x reader story, l'll see yall then when l post it!

This is Theta signing out, see you next time!

[nanamincreampie]

Academic Rival Higuruma

Hiromi Higuruma x Black plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, enemies to lovers, mild spice

(part 2 ) ( part 3)

Academic Rival Higuruma who is on a constant mission to outdo you in every major test and exam. Every time he scores higher, he loves rubbing it in. “Looks like I’m still ahead,” he’d gloat, waving his paper around with a smug smirk. And you? You’d curse under your breath, pissed that he beat you by a few points, even though you know you still aced the test.

Academic Rival Higuruma who gets just as salty when you beat him. The way his jaw clenches when he sees your higher grade it’s priceless. “This is such bullshit,” he’d mutter, glaring at his paper, frustrated beyond belief. And you? You’d grin, loving every second of his frustration. “Better luck next time, Higuruma,” you’d tease, watching him struggle with the defeat.

Both of you are captains of the debate team, always working together during practice. Higuruma, who hates how much you fire him up during arguments, watches you with burning eyes as you throw out perfect counterpoints, your confident tone and sharp wit never giving him a break. He’d grit his teeth every time you won a debate, the sound of your voice searing itself into his brain, irritating and… intoxicating.

One day, after a heated debate practice, everyone has left the classroom, but you’re still there, lingering by the desk with that victorious smirk on your lips. Your team had won again, and Higuruma stands by, trying to act unaffected, even though losing to you always stings.

Academic Rival Higuruma who doesn’t expect what happens next. You step closer, your black skin glowing under the fluorescent lights, and you’re absolutely stunning. Your curves full and soft are on display in your tight blouse and skirt that hug every inch of your plumped frame, and he can’t stop staring. Your hips sway when you walk, the smoothness of your dark skin making his throat go dry.

Before he knows it, you’ve backed him into a corner, your body just inches from his, your eyes gleaming with mischief. He tries to stay composed, but the way your chest lightly brushes against his as you close the distance it’s making him lose control. Your presence is overwhelming, the warmth of your body so close to his that it’s driving him insane.

“You look good backed into a corner like this, Higuruma,” you purr, teasingly. You press a hand lightly against his chest, and his heart races under your touch. Your  body, the fullness of your curves, and your confidence are too much for him to handle and he hates that you’re making him feel this way.

Academic Rival Higuruma who’s supposed to be calm and collected, is falling apart at the seams. He feels the heat of your body, the way your smooth, dark skin contrasts against his, the press of your thighs against his legs as you lean in even closer.

“Lucky win,” he mutters, but the words come out weaker than he intended. Your exotic beauty and the soft curve of your lips leave him speechless, his gaze locked on your face. He’s trying to stay cool, but it’s impossible with you this close. He can feel the tension, the pull between you two, and it’s killing him.

You lean in, your lips hovering just near his ear. “Maybe you’re just mad because I’m better than you,” you whisper, your breath hot against his skin. It sends a shiver down his spine, and he can barely think straight with you so close.

Higuruma, who’s never been this flustered in his life, feels like he’s unraveling. Your full hips press against him, and he’s overwhelmed by the soft curves of your body, the way your thighs mold against his frame. He can’t stop himself from imagining what it would be like to feel more of you to let go of this rivalry and just pull you closer.

But before he can act on anything, you pull away with that teasing smirk on your face. “Better luck next time,” you wink, brushing a hand over his chest before walking away, your hips swaying as you leave him breathless and dumbfounded.

Academic Rival Higuruma who’s left standing in the corner, heart pounding in his chest, his mind spinning as he watches you disappear out the door. His hand moves to his chest where you’d touched him, and for the first time, he realizes this rivalry is more than just competition it’s you, and it’s driving him insane.

[calm-potato]

|HAIKYUU CAPTAINS| //COMPLIMENTS\\

Haikyuu captains,how they react to compliments + short headcannons

Characters: daichi,kuroo, oikawa, bokuto, ushijima,kita, moniwa(former date tech captain), futakuchi, and yuji

Extra: there might be more characters but i tried to add as many captains as i could remember even former captains,might make a part 2 with other characters^^

Daichi sawamura

-surprised but accepts the compliment wholeheartedly

-would be bashful and blush but would play it off like it was no big deal

-very modest about whatever you complimented him on

-the rest of the day he'd think about it and might even smile or smirk a little

-his teammates will ask what happened as they caught him in the act and he'll just brush it off as "something he remembered" but they can clearly see whatever it was had him distracted a bit

-might even catch you the next day having feeling bad and compliment you next with a grin

Kuroo tetsuro

-smirks immediately getting almost big boned about it

-accepts the compliment and throws in a grin complimenting you back

-finds it endearing and can't hide how happy it makes him to hear

-the rest of the day he's hyper at practice,giving a big speech than he usually does and has a big grin that everyone finds kind of distrubing

-his teammates will ask what happened curious,but he shrugs them off,but if they insist he might just brag about it (more specifically to taketora)

-does his best in every game,tho he always did that,he'd get more fired up because of it

Oikawa toru

-despite him being used to the compliments from others,when it's from you,he gets more flutered while trying to compose his usual dramatic self

-would try and play it off as no big deal as well, "well of course you'd think that,i am awesome after all"

-has the widest grin as he flaunts the compliment to iwa who probably most likely wouldn't care and just wants him to get back to practice

-would constantly try and do things to get your attention for more compliments,trying to show off

-would get annoyed when you didn't while also teasing you about the compliment to see if you'd maybe give more or your reactions

Bokuto kotaro

-just like oikawa he'd get flustered and excited,tho it's just a compliment,he'd thrive off of it the rest of the day

-would always try and impress you as well,trying to get your attention like a kid

-"did you see that spike?" "I was awesome right?!" "I'm the best ace,right??right??!"

-honestly it was a little obnoxious but the guy loves compliments especially from you,plus the team was able to win cuz of it so no one really cared much

-would compliment you back and give a hug right after

-would get mad and pout when you complimented one of his teammates but not him

ushijima wakatoshi

-would stare at you for a moment processing your words then simply state "thank you" like it was nothing and walk away

-he doesn't mean to be rude or a bit cold about it,he's just too stunned plus half of his mind is focused on volleyball that he didn't expect a random compliment

-would later try and think of a compliment for you to give

-"your hair...looks nice" something like that or along those lines he would say with like barely a hint of a smile but he'd really mean it!

-wouldn't have thought much of the compliment but if you'd had a smile or some expression he'd think about it the rest of the day while trying to stay focused

kita shinsuke

- would be a bit more surprised,raising an eyebrow,before shifting back to his cool demeanor and nod

-he'd appreciate the compliment while throwing one randomly back without any affect or expression

- simply a "you look quite pretty/good looking today" while he focus back on sipping his water like he said nothing at all, not even giving you a glance

-wouldn't really think about the compliment much but once he told the twins about it atsumu looked at him like he was either stupid or crazy

-"you seriously had no filter?!" -atsumu miya

moniwa kaname(former captain)

-would stare at you for a moment and blush embarrasingly

-would accept the compliment though a bit bashful,probably scratching his head with a "thanks,i didn't think anyone noticed"

-would compliment you back while stumbling over his words

-wouldn't really get distracted unless someone brought it up then he's back to his flustered mess

-would watch you or stare at you without noticing as the compliment replays in his mind but tries to keep focus

-would probably try and be around you more or ask to hang out

futakuchi kenji

-would be stunned to say the least

-probably a little flustered pointing at himself as he can't believe a girl complimented him

-would flirt and compliment you back and once he get a reaction would smirk and walk away

-internally screaming but plays it cool

-might even try and impress you but fails,his teammates laugh at him and he yells at them "don't laugh at your captain!!"

-brushes it off and comes up to you "so,anything you doing tonight?"

-would blush or get flustered if you had seen it and laughed at him

-"h-hey" couldn't help but smile anyways

terushima yuji

-would have been a step ahead and complimented you first,but if you gave him a compliment he'd be star struck and basically already planning your wedding

-would give you more compliments,it might even turn into a war of who can make who flustered the most

-would love teasing you any chance he got

-would even tease his teammates too about getting a compliment

-after his games if you gave him a compliment on his attacks or how well he did he'd become flustered and smile saying "thank you,cutie" and might even ask to go on a date

-if you decline,he'd keep asking days later

A/n- hi i'm back,thanks for reading,i might make more haikyuu hc and other animes^^

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

trent frederic.

word count: 5.0k

warning: explicit content

"can you blow my mind?" — tyla

A/N: i recently received a request for trent and a leafs fan. i was given creative freedom and this is what i came up with. hope you like it, nonny <3

- - -

Bruins win Game 7 in OT.

The headlines came out at a rapid rate, informing the rest of the world that the Boston Bruins made it out of the first round and turned the Toronto Maple Leafs into mulch. Again.

Trent Frederic, along with a few teammates, were on too much of a high to return to their rooms at the hotel they’d been staying in just yet. Though they were home in Boston, coach Jim Montgomery thought it would be smarter to have the guys stay in a hotel instead of going back to their homes and apartments. Team bonding, he said.

The bunch set off for the bar inside the hotel, only a few blocks away from TD Garden, waiting a few hours before slipping in nonchalantly. They weren’t trying to get outed too fast, and they usually didn’t. Even once they were recognized, not much came of it. Most people were too drunk by then to make a scene, anyway.

So they sat down at the bar and ordered a few beers, celebrating accordingly and talking amongst themselves. They would finally let loose for just a night before the inevitable start of round 2 in just two days. They’d be having practice the next morning and flying down to Sunrise, Florida to face the Panthers, who were on their extensive break after knocking the Lightning in just 5 games.

Trent decided he’d had enough after his fourth beer, so he left his share and stood up to make his way out. As he turned around, his body hit something with a thud. He looked down and saw what it was that he came into contact with; a thin blonde woman with her arms out, jaw slack, and an empty hand that once held her drink.

Oh, and a Maple Leafs jersey.

“Oh, shit,” Trent muttered, compressing his lips.

You scoffed, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I can get you a new one.”

You looked up, a look of guilt on your face as your hands fell back down to your sides. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve been looking where I was going, too—”

You paused.

“Where do I know you?”

He remained silent, shooting you a look as if to tell you that it should be obvious. It wasn’t long before your face dropped and it hit you. He suppressed a grin at your realization and parted his lips to speak.

“Name’s Trent,” he spoke smoothly, “but something tells me you already figured that out.”

“Well, you’re one of the last people I’d like to see right now,” you rolled your eyes, arms folded. “What’s a guy like you doing at some random bar at,” you looked at your watch, “12 in the morning after the game where you just knocked my team out of the playoffs?”

“Had to celebrate somehow,” he winked.

“Oh, god,” you grimaced. “I really do hate you guys.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of sunshine,” he laughed, putting his abnormally large hands on his hips. Your eyes subtly followed their path.

“Lighten up,” he teased. “C’mon. What’s your name? I know you’re not a,” he pinched the fabric of your jersey and pulled it to see the numbers, “Marner. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

You sighed at his remark and told him your name, but he made a face afterward.

“Too long.”

“Too long?”

“I think I’ll stick to Marner,” he told you, much to your dismay.

“Gross,” you replied irritatedly. “I don’t particularly feel like giving you the privilege of using a nickname. Just use my real name like everyone else. ”

“I’m all set, actually. I think I’ll stick to mine.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“You gonna let me buy your drink or keep bitching about who I am?”

“Fine,” you sighed, “buy me the damn drink.”

He and you made your way to the other side of the bar, far enough away from the rest of the guys and the few friends you went with that you wouldn’t be noticed. You sat next to each other on the bar stools, Trent talking your ear off and you reluctantly replying with mostly one-word responses.

“You can’t be that angry with me,” he finally spoke, breaking another silence. “I’m not the whole team, you know.”

“I can and I will,” you shrugged, sipping your almost-empty drink.

“If you won’t talk, then I’ll just have to make you talk.”

He put his elbows down on the table and turned his head to face you, “Why’d you decide to come out in public after that game? I wouldn’t have even bothered to show my face in a bar wearing that. You here with other people or something?”

“I came with a couple of friends.”

“Doesn’t answer my first question.”

You looked down. “They wanted to come down here. I told them it was probably a bad idea because of the fact that we’re, you know, Leafs fans. They did it anyway so I just tagged along.”

“Bet you didn’t expect to run into me,” he nudged you with his shoulder, bringing a faint smile to your lips. “There you go,” he teased when he noticed your expression. “See? I’m not so bad.”

“Fraternizing with the enemy is a bad look for a woman like me,” you retorted, a playful undertone to your words. It was uncharacteristic compared to the closed-off manner you had with every other response. You wouldn’t admit that, however.

“Oh, she jokes,” he took the final sip of the drink he’d bought himself upon sitting with you, even after deciding he’d had his last beforehand.

“Shut up, Frederic.”

“We’ve regressed to my last name now? Can’t even call me by my first?”

“But you won’t use mine at all,” you rolled your eyes, “Trent.”

You looked at him for maybe a tad longer than you should’ve, eyes slowly moving down his body. He wore a white collared shirt that hugged his arms and gray dress pants that looked awfully tight around his thighs. You couldn’t help but notice the facial hair he’d grown since the start of the round, giving him a gingery mustache with a somewhat patchy beard. You’d seen what he looked like before that and were undoubtedly intrigued by it, regardless of whatever grudges you held against him. But you couldn’t let him know that.

So you turned to face the television above the bar, watching the commercial in a quiet trance as if nothing happened.

“Hey,” he tapped his finger on the bartop, diverting your attention back to him. “Tell me something,” he softly requested as you looked back, adjusting his body to face yours. “Why did you let me buy you the new drink if you weren’t going to talk to me, hm?”

You swallowed, “I wasn’t going to be rude.”

“The real reason,” he pressed.

“There is no real reason.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “so why were you staring at me before?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He lowered his voice and brought his face just slightly closer, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “You’re not a very good liar, you know that?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I mean,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders, “unless I didn’t see you looking for a while there. But I’m pretty sure I know what I saw.”

“Just…just shut up, Trent, alright?”

“Sounds like I hit a nerve,” he noted and you rolled your eyes. “You know, you’re cute when you’re irritable.”

His grin widened when you shook your head again, promptly informing him of how annoying he was once again. “But if I’m really being honest here,” he lifted his fingers and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’re pretty.”

At this, your hardened exterior softened. Your head turned just slightly so that he was in your field of view and you sighed gently. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

“I, um,” you cleared your throat, taking a breath, “I was looking before.”

“I know,” he softly responded, hand slipping down until his palm rested on your thigh. Initially, you flinched at the contact, but your muscles relaxed when you realized it was a warm gesture rather than one with malicious intent.

“You don’t have to be so cold,” he told you. “No matter who I play for, I’m just a guy.”

You were more attracted to him than you wanted to let on, and it surely didn’t help that he was being nicer to you. You suppressed a smile and faced him fully.

“It’s not that, it’s—it’s the point,” you flatly responded.

“You can look at me again,” he teased, thumb rubbing your thigh. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Your gaze lingered on him again, eyes flitting down to his lips before you looked away. It wasn’t hard for him to see through you—after all, you allowed him to keep his hand where it was, even after refuting his words. He took notice of your wandering eyes and finally pieced it together.

“Like the new look, eh?”

Your brows furrowed and you swallowed, “What new look…?”

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” he replied with certainty. “You have a thing for the scruff?”

“Please. I don’t even know what you looked like before that,” you lied, taking an unsteady breath.

“Doesn’t change that you were looking at it, does it?”

“Well…” you trailed off, lips parted as you tried to think up an excuse. “No,” you finally gave up, letting your head hang down. “It doesn’t, because I have seen you before and I do have a thing for it. For you,” you shook your head, laughing at the reality of how weak you truly were. How stupid you must have looked to him. “So tease me all you want, say that you told me so—you’re right.”

A ringed finger slipped under your chin and tilted your head toward him, his face mere inches away from yours.

“I’m not going to tease you.”

You swallowed, expression falling as your eyes locked with his. They were brown, you noticed. And they were…warm. They largely contrasted how he looked at you previously. It brought you to an entranced sort of state.

His touch was soft, comforting. But in a way that made you want him more. Caused your mind to wander to places you knew it shouldn’t have gone. It felt good. Really good.

And you had no business wondering what the rest of him would feel like on you.

“Where are you staying?” you blurted out.

“Upstairs.”

“Take me,” the words left your mouth before you could protest.

An eyebrow raised and his grin turned to a smile. “Gladly,” he whispered, lowering his hand and standing up.

He held his hand out and you hesitantly took it, allowing him to discreetly walk you toward the exit of the bar. You ducked when you saw your friends, praying that by some miracle they didn’t see you walk out with Trent Frederic.

“Trent,” you whispered, clutching onto him harder now that you couldn’t be hidden by the darkness of the bar any longer. “What if someone saw?”

“You would’ve known by now. Trust me,” he reassured you as the elevator doors slid open. You walked in and the doors shut, enclosing you in the small space. “And if anyone did,” he started, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck, “it’s none of their business, anyway.”

“Mhm,” you agreed softly, eyes beginning to close when you felt his warm breath on your neck.

“See? Not so hard to agree, is it?”

“Mm…no…”

He laughed softly in your ear and pressed a tiny kiss to the skin behind it. He intricately placed a few more on the exposed skin, prompting a faint hum from your lips as the doors slid back open. His hand found its place on your waist as he gently pushed you out, guiding you down the hallway and finally stopping in front of his door.

By now, you’d become urgent—urgent to feel his lips on yours no matter how much you told yourself it was a stupid idea. You lived in Toronto; a whopping 500 miles away. And he played for Boston, the team you hated with a passion so strong that you vowed to never let yourself be endeared by them. Yet there you were, standing next to the forward who contributed to your favorite team’s loss, wanting nothing more than for him to make you feel oh, so good.

And he would.

The door clicked open and he pushed the lever down, stepping aside to let you in. He was quick to pin you to the door with his body, arm coming up behind your head to lock it and toss the room card to the side.

“I can’t believe I let you charm me.”

“What can I say,” he rasped, leaning in closer, “I know how to get a girl in my room.”

His lips finally connected with yours and you immediately reciprocated, hand flattening against his chest and gripping the material of his shirt. You pulled him closer, slipping your free hand around his neck before tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The hair above his lips rubbed against your skin, the feeling eliciting a faint hum from your mouth into his. He grinned at this and hooked his fingers under the blue jersey you wore, pulling away promptly and carefully lifting it up.

“Taking this shit off,” he mumbled, pulling the fabric over your head and discarding it to the floor. “You’d look much better with mine.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not going to happen, Trent.”

“We’ll see,” he grinned, moving his lips to your neck and marking up the skin, drawing whimpers from your mouth.

Your hand snaked into his hair, fingers threading between the dusty ginger strands as you pushed his head closer. He kissed up to your jaw, sliding his hand up to your neck, the other placed on the bare skin of your hip. His fingers pressed into the nape of your neck and his thumb rested just under your chin, hand pressing the back of your head against the door as his lips kissed a path down your jawline.

“Shit,” you moaned breathily, reaching for the buttons on his shirt as his mouth returned to yours hungrily.

You worked your way down, the material of his shirt parting and exposing his skin as each button fell open. His tongue slipped between your lips, grazing your teeth before rolling over yours languidly. Soft fingers untucked his open shirt from his pants and began to trace his stomach, moving slowly up to his firm chest. The action caused the large hand around your neck to tighten its hold, prying a moan from your throat.

“Didn’t know,” you panted, “—didn’t know you wore a chain.”

“Like it, mm?”

The way he grinned down at you brought a lump to your throat. He made you nervous. Weak, even. And the height at which he stood compared to you surely didn’t help. So you nodded curtly in response, hoping he’d take the hint and not press you further.

But he took it and instead removed his hand from your neck to slide it down and meet the other at your lower back, promptly hoisting you up. Your hands moved to his face and held it while you continued to kiss him, him walking the two of you away from the door and in the direction of the bed. You kicked your shoes off just as he grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall outside the bathroom and laid it lazily atop the sheets. He then lowered you onto your back and let go, allowing you to lie comfortably on the bed as he remained on his knees in front of you.

He quickly shed himself of the torn-open shirt and tossed it toward the empty bed on the other side of the room. His body soon hovered over yours, an arm on the bed on each side of your head as he kissed you again. His lips moved to your neck once again, working the skin until soft moans slipped through your parted ones.

“Trent,” you exhaled, chest rising and falling deeply, “isn’t…isn’t someone else staying here with you? There’s—mm—two beds.”

“There was,” he mumbled into your skin, moving down to your collarbones.

“So couldn’t we get—”

“Was,” he repeated. “He already went home to his girlfriend. And I have both room keys.” He chuckled softly and reached around your back to unclasp your bra, the fabric coming loose on your chest. “So relax.”

You nodded and lifted your arms for him to pull it off, him letting it fall from his hand before kissing a path down the valley of your chest. His body moved down as he continued down to your stomach, then to your waist where his fingers hooked in your pants and slid them down your legs.

You kicked them off and opened your legs, allowing Trent to slip between them. He gently kissed your inner thigh, slowly working his way up until he reached the lacy fabric that covered your skin. He looked up, making and not breaking eye contact with you as he took the waistband between his teeth and tugged the fabric slowly down your legs. As he rose upwards, they and your pants were dropped to the floor.

Warm breath fanned the skin between your aching thighs, awaiting his touch oh, so impatiently. His fingers brushed the area, dragging themselves slowly up and down. His eyes flitted up to you, a faint grin playing on his lips before focusing back down.

“God, you’re wet,” he rasped, leaning down and settling his face between your thighs, your legs atop his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your outer thighs and gripped them, pulling you in promptly.

“Especially for someone who claims to hate me so much.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned, “Think that’ll make me like you any more?”

“No, but maybe this will.”

With that, his mouth wrapped around your clit, tongue swirling around and eliciting a gasp of shock from your parted lips. Your eyes widened as he sucked gently, hands kneading the warm flesh of your thighs.

He then trailed downward, planting small, light kisses on the sensitive flesh, all before his tongue carefully parted your folds and delved slowly inside. Your fingers gingerly threaded into his strands, palm flattening itself on the back of his head as you pushed him down, your body weak with the need for more friction.

The hair that had recently grown above his lips brushed against your skin, rubbing back and forth forcefully and bringing meaning to the term, ‘hurts so good.’

“God, fuck,” you groaned, hands tenaciously gripping the sheets and his curls as his tongue moved in a rhythm that was just enough to make you long for more.

He lapped at you mercilessly, expert movements of his tongue coaxing soft moans from your mouth. A cocky grin stretched across his lips as he brought you to the brink, then pulled away, forcing a whimper from you at the loss of contact.

A large hand was removed from your thigh and brought between your legs, knuckles once again dragging lazily along the sensitive, needy skin, but refusing to give you the satisfaction of doing what you wanted most. He was teasing you; punishing you for the way in which you treated him earlier without giving him as much as a chance to prove himself.

“Trent,” you whined impatiently, hips writhing involuntarily against his bearded face.

“Mm…what?”

You refused to admit the irrevocable attraction you had to him because you didn’t want to let him win. And now he was being a bitch to you, just like you were to him. He chuckled softly and pressed the tip of his finger to your entrance, allowing you to feel the small bit of pressure that came with it. 

“Please,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his curls.

Enough was enough and he pushed the finger in, drawing a moan from your lips before adding another and thrusting them in and out with no room for complaint. The cold metal of his ring brushed against your sensitive inner walls and you gasped at the initial contact, your rampant mind having forgotten about the jewelry to begin with. And deep down, you loved it.

His mouth returned to your skin, tongue licking small stripes on the mound of flesh above his fingers, the scruff on his chin rubbing roughly against it. You knew you were going to have burns on your skin caused by his facial hair but you didn’t care; you just wanted to keep feeling him.

“Trent, don’t stop.”

He laughed quietly and sped up the pace of his fingers, urging you even closer to the edge. Your thighs closed in around his head, hand still pushing his head down. He hummed in satisfaction, the noise vibrating against your skin as he felt you clench around his long fingers.

His lips sucked on your clit in a steady pattern, causing your release to rip through you, prying a moan from deep within your stomach. You fisted the sheets tighter as your hips writhed against his face and fingers, legs beginning to shake from the pressure. Trent continued to work you through it, tongue lapping up the wetness that accumulated until you sunk back down into the mattress, spent.

Slowly he removed his fingers, first bringing them to his lips to lick them clean before rising back up. You inched backward on the bed until your head pressed against the pillow, Trent following and planting himself on his knees between your legs. His fingers reached down and fumbled with the buckle on his belt, eyes never leaving your body in the process. It wasn’t long before his belt haphazardly hit the floor, then his pants and his painfully hard cock was freed from its constraints. A rough palm placed itself on your knee, rubbing it slowly.

“Trent,” you swallowed, drawing his attention back up to your face. “Con—”

He raised his hand to cut you off, a gold wrapper resting comfortably between his index and middle fingers. The action having rendered you silent, he promptly took the foil between his teeth and pulled, spitting out the excess before taking out the latex and rolling it onto himself. You soon felt the pressure of him at your entrance, legs subconsciously widening to let him slip between them further, then heard the sound of him groaning as he pushed into you.

You swore it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard.

He leaned forward slowly, giving you just a moment’s time to adjust to his size as he stretched you out. Your breaths were unsteady, eyes screwed shut as your fingers maintained their forceful grip on the sheets around you. Your mind was racing, but you knew one thing for certain—the man was about to fucking blow it. His body hovered above yours as he kissed a path from your stomach up to your neck, hands pressing into the mattress on each side of you.

“Where did you,” you breathed, “get that?”

“Pocket,” he rasped, mustache brushing against your neck.

Eyes wide, you responded, “That’s not—”

“Relax,” he mumbled, the corners of his lips slightly upturned. “I put it in there today.”

Then you impatiently lifted a hand to the back of his head and pushed his lips onto yours, kissing him urgently and wordlessly telling him to just move. He obeyed your silent command and pushed his hips into yours, burying his dick into you before pulling back, leaving only the tip inside. He repeated the process at a steady, slow rhythm—tortuously slow, at that—until your back was arching, hand in his hair sliding down to his shoulder blade as the long, coffin-shaped nails dug into his soft skin. The chain that you’d noticed earlier tapped against your cheek, the feeling provoking you to throw your head back against the pillow.

His hand slid up your front, fingers curling around to the nape of your neck and thumb resting under your chin once again, pulling your head back up as he quickened his pace, driving into you with more force. Every inch of his thick cock slid smoothly along your velvety walls, your mouth frozen in its open state as his lips worked at your neck again. And god, you just couldn’t understand what made you hate that guy in the first place. It must have slipped your mind completely.

Upon the first thrust of his hips, he felt just how tight you enveloped him. The immense pressure of you wrapped around his strained length, practically squeezing it. The age-old trick of conjuring up the most repulsive of thoughts seemed nothing but moronic to him in the past, yet for some reason he found himself naming off presidents in his head to prevent from coming so fucking soon. He only wished that he could feel it; really feel it, if it weren’t for that godforsaken rubber that separated him from you.

And he’d make it his mission to do so, whether you lived five hundred miles away or not.

He just hoped he’d last when he finally did.

The hand around your throat closed just slightly, using just enough pressure to threaten your intake of breath without causing any pain. It was delicious. You didn’t have the will to fight it—your body had already submitted to him long before, and there wasn’t much that you could focus on other than the feeling of him roughly thrusting into you, lips marking up one side of your neck while his hand firmly gripped the other.

The sounds of your mixed moans bounced off of the walls and you began to wonder whether anyone could hear it or not; if any of his teammates were close by, walking back to their rooms from the bar. The thought instilled enough fear for you to weakly voice it.

“What if—ah—what if someone hears us?”

“Let them,” he rasped, kissing behind your ear.

“But—”

“God, shut up,” he pushed his lips to yours, swallowing your words, moans, and expletives that threatened to destroy your mediocre attempt to stay quiet. His tongue rolled over yours, low hums reverberating in your mouth and filling your ears.

Finally, he released his hold from your neck, allowing the air to flow smoothly into your lungs once more. The hand reached for yours, roughly threading his fingers between yours before pushing the two forward and pinning the back of your hand to the headboard behind you. You let out a whimper at the sudden contact but quickly gripped his hand with a matching force to his as he hit the sweet spot inside you and a familiar pit in your stomach formed.

“Close,” you panted, back arching off of the bed and forcing your front to press firmly into his.

“I know,” he told you, grip tightening as the taut line in your stomach snapped.

His mouth enveloped yours again to swallow your noises, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. Your inner walls constricted around his length as you hit your climax, nails digging into his back as you grasped desperately at him for stability, support—any sort of strength that he could provide you with. And he did, grunting sporadically as he fucked you through your second orgasm, thrusts growing sloppier.

It wasn’t long before he twitched inside you, hitting his own peak and letting out a deep moan. Your name—to your surprise—left his lips in a slurred form, repeating it softly as if it were a hymn. Sweat coated your forehead, droplets dripping slowly down your face, and the frontward strands of your hair had grown wet. His curls dripped with his own sweat as his lips hovered just centimeters above yours, warm breath fanning your face and gaze aligning with yours.

You finally swallowed, “Wow.”

“Mm,” he hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, hand letting go of yours and gently running up and down your side.

He waited a moment and carefully pulled out, the action drawing your eyes shut before he slipped off the used latex and disposed of it. You adjusted yourself as he did so, ridding the bed of the towel and briefly cleaning yourself up before you felt a piece of fabric hit your arm. You looked down to see a large, black t-shirt on the bed and grabbed it, quickly slipping it on as he walked back over. He motioned you under the sheets and you silently obliged.

Your back pressed against his chest, chain pressing into the skin as an arm wrapped around you and a hand flattened on your stomach. His other fingers pushed your hair to the side, exposing the skin to his eyes, and he saw the faint marks his fingers left on your neck. A pair of lips brushed against your ear and the soft rasp of his voice returned.

“You know, that’s a Bruins shirt,” he teased, scruff grazing your damp skin as his lips connected with your shoulder.

“Mhm,” you flatly responded.

“Going against your word pretty fast, eh?”

“Yeah, well,” you started, nuzzling back into him. “I told you I hated you and ended up in your bed, so,” you turned to him slightly, “unreliable source.”

He chuckled softly and brought his fingers up to brush your hair back, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “Night, Marner.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, and he laughed one final time before closing his eyes and relaxing into you.

So, against everything that you stood for just hours before, you fell asleep in Trent Frederic’s arms without much forethought. In his shirt and his bed, effectively leaving your friends behind because they’d for some odd reason just slipped your mind completely.

And when Trent woke up the next morning, he was no longer in your company, much to his dismay. Any trace of your presence the night before had perished, down to the towel on the floor. But there was one thing—one saving grace that caught his eye as he scanned the room.

A piece of paper on the nightstand with a phone number scribbled on it and a small note below it that read,

“For the next time you’re in Toronto.”

[kotemf]

Meow

  Day 2, prompt: "There's not a tooka."

  The first time Fox noticed something was going on was when he saw a group of troopers excitedly talking about something they were seeing on a data-pad and then proceed to shut up the second they noticed Fox entering the room.

  Fox spent exactly one minute and thirty five seconds making his coffee in the mess hall. The men didn't even move. They were probably planning some pranks. Fox made a mental note to watch out for the next few days and also to make a point of subtly mentioning latrine duty as a possible punishment for misbehavior. That's how he dealt with pranksters the last time and all the times before that.

  No pranks came. Or maybe Fox was just too tired to notice. If someone wanted to prank him by, say, putting something into his bed... Fox hasn't even touched his bed for more than a month. His only sleep were the few hours when he passed out in his office and his stays in the med bay.

  Or maybe the troopers weren't planning a prank. Either way, something was still up. He's been seeing a lot of troopers having fun and suddenly stopping when he stepped into the room. A suspicious lot of shinies lied to him about something, too.

  "Aww, there you go. Good girl."

  "Thorn, we're supposed to be patrolling the area, not petting a tooka!"

  Thorn made a face at Thire. He loved his vod but he could be such a prick. Didn't he see Thorn had more important things to do than patrol duty? "That can't wait. Little Lady here won't."

  "Oh my god, Thorn, you're such-" The words died on Thire's tongue when the tooka ran over and started rubbing around his legs. "I guess it can wait for a bit."

  "Hypocrite." Thorn grinned at him.

  "Shut up, I'm enjoying my time with Starlight."

  "Starlight? Seriously? That's no name for a tooka!"

  "Better than calling her Little Lady." Thire shrugged as if he hadn't just insulted Thron's name idea. "How does the survey look like, anyway? The last time I looked, Jek's name was winning."

  "I haven't looked since yesterday. I still don't know how we managed to keep this all from Fox."

  "Honestly, I don't either. He usually knows about everything. I saw him almost catch some shinies looking at holos of Starlight."

  "Stop calling her that! There's no way anyone is going to vote for Starlight. Well, safe for you."

  Thire wanted to answer but then he heard it. The march of heavy shoes. A clone. No one was supposed to be around at the moment. So either some lost shiny or Fox on one of his trips for coffee.

  Thorn probably came to the same realization as he started shooing the tooka away. By the time Fox was there, there were no traces of the tooka.

  Hound was on a walk with Grizzler. Technically, the massiff was supposed to be locked in a cage when she wasn't required to help with a case but she has always been restless and Hound couldn't bear it to watch her desperately bump into the door of the cage in hopes someone would let her out. So a secret midnight walk it was.

  If someone else than the vode knew, Hound would get in trouble, possibly even decommissioned, if anyone reported him but there wasn't really anyone except for a few troopers patrolling the area. The vode all knew about his occasional walks. Fox even gave him somewhat of a permission when he told him that as long as Hound didn't get caught, it wasn't his problem. So it was all fine as long as Grizzler was good and didn't make much noise. She was usually well behaved.

  Grizzler started barking loudly for no apparent reason.

  "Grizzler!" Hound hissed.

  Grizzler didn't stop. Something must've really excited her by the way she was pulling the leash, trying to run off. It was probably that damn tooka everyone seemed to be obsessed with. Well, everyone safe for Fox who either didn't know about it, which would be weird but possible, or knew about it and let it slide which, let's be honest, seemed pretty impossible.

  "Grizzler! Hush!"

  Grizzler didn't seem to listen. She was trained to be calm in emergency situations, not in the presence of a tooka. She only calmed down after Thorn gave her a treat. He dragged her out of there just in time to avoid some random passerby. He was lucky. The tooka... Let's just say it wasn't going to be that lucky if Hound caught a glimpse of it in the following days.

  "Catch her!" Shadow called. Him and his batch mate were trying to pet the famous tooka. Only the animal got scared for some reason and was running away from them. They would let her run but she was running out of the barracks, in the direction of the senate building, and they weren't sure what would happen if she decided to run there.

  "I'm trying!" Titan called back as he almost grabbed the tooka before she successfully dodged his hand and continued her run.

  They kept chasing it without success. Then Titan collided with a vod.

  "Commander!" They both snapped into parade rest when they realized just who they had ran into. Shadow only interacted with commander Fox once but it wasn't something that he wanted to repeat. The commander was scary.

  "Is everything alright, troopers?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Is there a reason why you're running around like a couple of cadets?" the commander asked. Shadow was sure he was raising his eyebrow under his helmet. It was pure luck they couldn't see it, it would make the whole situation even more intimidating.

  "No, sir," Shadow said.

  "There is nothing unusual going on. There most certainly isn't a tooka," Titan said at the same time. Shadow was so going to kill him once they were out of the commander's sight. If the commander didn't do it first. The older troopers who knew him better made it pretty clear commander Fox could never find out about the tooka.

  "Well of course there's not a tooka. What would a tooka be doing in the barracks?"

  Shadow almost didn't stop a huge sigh of relief. He couldn't believe they actually got away with this.

  "Get back to your posts, troopers. And I better not catch you running around here again."

  "Yes sir." Shadow and Titan said in unison. They both snapped a quick salute before they got going. That was close.

  Fox couldn't help shaking his head fondly as he watched the two shinies walk away. "Idiots."

  He felt a small body rub against the plastoid armor on his leg. He knelt to pet the tooka with his gloved hand. "So you're chasing my troopers around the barracks now? A little naughty, aren't you, Riyo? To think they actually ended up naming you Cute. At least I named you after someone important, isn't that right?"

  The cat purred as Fox lightly scratched it's head. Fox decided to take that as a yes.

  "How long do you think it will take them to find out I actually brought you here? I think it's going to be a long, long time."

  The cat headbutted Fox's helmet.

  "Aww, was that a keldabe kiss?"

  "Meow."

[willows-writings]

‼️This post is part of a choose your own adventure series and is not meant to be read stand-alone. Click HERE to go to the masterlist and Chapter beginnings‼️

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Ask if he's ok

Chapter 2

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Your concern wins you over and you pull back from the kiss. As you pull away Josh lets out a small groan and reaches up to try and kiss you again. You laugh and gently place a hand on his mouth. “Josh, wait, are you doing ok?”

He groans “Y/n no offense but we are not a one night stand who just met each other, we don’t have to do the whole get to know you thing.” he mumbles from behind your hand.

You grin for a moment before your face goes back to serious. “No I mean, with all the guys being here, and I guess… just being here in general.” You remove your hand from his mouth.

His face falls and he moves to sit up, scooting back so his back rests against the headboard and pulling your body with him so you remain on his lap. “Look y/n, in all honesty it freaks me out a bit, I miss them but more than anything I’m happy they all came up here, happy you're here.” He trails a hand down your face and you lean into it. You know there’s more, but you also know these next few days aren’t the time to interrogate him about it. 

“Ok,” You whisper and move your face to press a kiss to his hand “Ok, anything you need I’m here” 

He smiles at you and hugs you close to him. 

Suddenly you hear a noise from outside the room. Josh groans “Someone definitely just broke something, fuck.” He moves you off his lap gently, stands and starts to walk to the door while you remain sitting on the bed.

“Hey,” he turns to your voice, “what if… we just stay here tonight? I mean tension in the group is still running high, there’s a good chance everyone else will stay split off or just go to sleep. We could make hot chocolate and popcorn? Watch a movie? I got a few of those horror films you like downloaded on my computer? It’ll be fun!” You know at this point you're rambling but you can see his face softening the more you talk. 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” He briskly walks over to you so he can plant a dramatic kiss on your forehead. When he looks at you again there’s a huge smile plastered across his face. “I’ll check on everyone else and get the food and you can stay here, pulling up that movie, and just stay looking pretty for me which shouldn’t be too hard cause you always are.” He winks and you roll your eyes. “I’ll be no more than an hour, maybe get some rest, it’ll be a long night.” He says the last part while walking out the door in a sing-songy voice. 

You smile before remembering something from earlier. “And you know Chris told me about that snow angels comment from earlier.” He leaned back in the room, his interest peaked. “That will not be happening.”

Josh lets out a laugh as he closes the door behind him.

The door closes behind him and you lay back onto the soft pillows, he’s right, a nap would be nice right about now. You close your eyes and let sleep overtake you.

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End of Chapter 2

You got: Ending #4

Chapter 3: Beginning #4 (coming soon!)

OBaC Masterlist

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I like to think if you were actually playing the game this would be the choice that would increase your relationship with Josh the most.

For anyone confused when this takes place it’s around the time Mike and Jess are walking to the cabin, and before Josh goes with Chris and Ashley. Sam failing to turn the heater on alone was the noise.

[holylulusworld]

Bad day at work (2)

Summary: It’s a bad day at the office.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x fem!Reader

Warnings: short reader, enemies to…, language

Catch up here: Bad day at work

“Nothing will happen, Mr…” You glance at the name tag on his shirt. “Jensen.” He glares at you while you cross your arms over your chest. Jensen purses his lips, ready to defend his colleagues. He’s just done hearing everyone complain because they are too stupid to switch their computer off and on.

“If I recall right, your job is to take care of the IT in this company. I called, asking for help only for the guy answering the phone to get cheeky. He ate and chewed loudly. I told him that switching my laptop on and off won’t help because the new software causes the problem.”

“I don’t think any of my colleagues would do such a thing!” He argues, making you furious. It’s one of Jensen’s rules to not eat or drink at your desk. Everyone knows the rule and follows it.

“He hung up on me! I can easily find out who was the one and get them fired. I don’t care if it was you or one of your buddies. I had an awful week, and today wasn’t better. All I was asking for was help. That’s your job!”

“Maybe you were aggressive and loud!” He steps closer, into your personal space. His chest almost touches yours as he defends his colleagues.

“I simply told him that switching off and on won’t solve my problem! He was unprofessional from the beginning. You can’t eat while taking a call. It’s impolite and immature.”

Jensen huffs. “Fine, fine!” He pushes his glasses back up his nose. “I’ll check who was on the phone and talk to them. I still don’t believe he did what you told me, but I’m not unreasonable.”

“Neither am I,” you snap at him. “I was stressed, and maybe my tone wasn’t nice, but I tried to stay professional.”

He doesn’t believe you but takes your complaint seriously. “Wait here. I’ll check who answered your call.”

You grab your laptop and the remnants of your mouse. “I still need help with my laptop. Where is everyone? Why is no one here to do their job?” You look around the empty open-plan office. There is no one around but Jensen.

Jensen walks off, ignoring that you follow him. He’s already pissed and doesn’t need any more stress. “Brock! God! Charlie?” He calls, but no one answers. “Where is everyone?” He pokes his head into the break room, only to find Charlie and God in a battle over the last chocolate bar.

“Hey, boss!” Charlie grins as she wins the chocolate bar. “What’s up?” The redhead grins from ear to ear. “We took our break.”

“Who answered the last call?” Jensen sighs. Great. Now you saw two of his colleagues play rock, paper, scissors for a chocolate bar.

“Brock,” God grunts. He longingly looks at the chocolate bar. “You cheated.” He accuses and snatches the chocolate bar out of Charlie’s hands.

“HEY! I won it!”

“Guys, where is Brock?” Jensen runs one hand down his face. Charlie and God just proved you right. None of them seems to take their job seriously.

“Smoking.” Charlie snatches the chocolate bar out of God’s hand right when he wants to eat it.

“Great, none of you seems to work here.” You roll your eyes. “You know what? Forget about my problem. I’ll call my boss and tell him that I need a new laptop because the whole IT crowd couldn’t help me because they are busy eating chocolate bars and playing silly games.”

You twirl around and storm off. Wasting more time on them is not in your plans. Maybe you can fix the problem yourself. You’re not an IT dude but know your way around a computer.

“WAIT!” Jensen easily catches up with you. Fucking long legs. “I can take care of your problem.” He walks next to you. “Listen, you caught me off guard. I’m very protective of my team. If Brock fucked things up, he’s in trouble. I’m his supervisor.”

“I thought you wanted to show me what happens when someone messes with the IT crowd,” you joke. “You know, so far no one has ever threatened me at my workplace.”

Jensen grins. He takes the laptop out of your hands and asks you to follow him to his desk. “I’ll fix your hard drive problems,” he dips his head to look at you. “And maybe I’ll help you deep clean it too.”

Tags in reblog.

[lucky-lucky-duck]

Forget You, Forget-Me-Not

A continuation based on a reply to my Vaga Snapshot post that i'm writing between cram sessions. The semester ends in 2 days and I'm dying, but it's fine. c: Everything is fine. c: I'm gonna start on the matchup in a couple days when my load lightens, this is just a late night creative outlet for stress c':

Leo Kurosagi x Vagastrom Ghoul Reader (2nd person pov and gender neutral)

Leo goes too far in an argument, and I'll fill this out tomorrow. For now, it's sad. Reader nearly gives up on braking the curse causing the people around them to slowly forget they exist. Fuck I'm tired

Morning edit - I fixed a couple of spelling mistakes, but the description made me laugh so it stays. I'm still fucking tired.

"I'm passing the phone to a No-Name NPC who is so unremarkable that the faculty evaluators actually forgot they existed."

You're ignoring him. It's been four days, and you've barely said a word to anyone, but everyone knows that Leo is somehow the culprit.

It doesn't really matter, you think with dull amusement. Sho and Alan had both been out at the time; the only witnesses to your humiliation were you, Leo, and the general students. Leo's too busy trying to bait you into argument to gloat about his win to the others, and you aren't about to tell them yourself.

The general students are a non-issue, too. Most of them struggle to remember your name most days, they're not about to suddenly start remembering gossip about you.

The thing is, you've had fights with Leo before. Hell, fighting with Leo has something of a hobby to you once you started sharing a living space with him. There's just something about him that brings out the worst in you. The vicious snake-like part, that coils up with anticipation and prepares to strike when you see Leo enter the room. You used to think of it as something that you both secretly look forward to, once the vitriol died down and your metaphorical fight-to-the-death turned into elementary-school bullying.

He's never brought up your curse like that before. It's been tit-for-tat, both of you giving just as good as you get. It's supposed to be fun.

You squash the pang of longing in your chest with snarled anger, only to be drenched in an icy kind of apathy. There are lines both of you choose not to cross these days (you were under that impression at the time, at least.), and the waning acknowledgment of your existence had definitely been one of them. Christ, you didn't exactly pour salt onto Leo's obvious abandonment wounds during these fights, did you?

"What did Leo do to you?" Sho's voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Nothing, why do you ask?" Your voice scrapes lifelessly as you meet his eyes with a small, strained grin.

"Really? Then what, you've been moping around the dorms the past few days because you enjoy the smell of sweat and motor oil?"

"You know me, can't get enough of the ol' sugar and spice." The attempted banner falls flat as you make to slip around him and head for your dorm at the end of the hall, only to be held in place with a single strong hand on your wrist. "You ever tried shake weights?"

"Stop," he shuts down your distraction. "You know he's a rat bastard, right? You can't take what he says personally. We're going to find a way to break the curse."

So, Leo told Sho what happened after all, has he?

Sho's words slow to a stop when he notices the dead-eyes and scowl that have overtaken your forceful nonchalance from earlier.

"I wasn't lying, I'm not angry at Leo for what he said to me," Apart from the fact that you kind of are. "He wasn't exactly wrong."

"Shut up already!" You don't turn your head to look at Leo as he appears in the corridor. Figures he would listen in on a private conversation. It's probably him who sent Sho to find you in the first place. Bastards.

In the end, the choice is made for you, and a new set of hands grip your shoulders, yanking you face-to-face with the person you wanted to see least.

"Are you telling me I've been wasting my time on someone this fucking pathetic?" The words would hurt more if the expression on Leo's face were less desperate. If anyone looks pathetic here, it's him. "Of course. You would be willing to sit back and watch as you sink into irrelevance, wouldn't you? If that's what you want, fine." It's funny how adept you've become at interpreting Leo's mannerisms after all of the fighting.

For all of the accusations and insults, the only thing you see in front of you is a hissing kitty cat desperately trying to make amends in the only way it knows how. It's a shit apology, but... Leo isn't the type to put on this type of fit unless he feels threatened and cornered, and, as far as you are aware, the only threat being posed at the moment is you walking away from him.

Your bar sure has sunk low these days, yikes.

"That would probably hurt more if you weren't still gripping my shoulders like we're in a steamy novel. Do you have fantasies of pinning me down often?" You're promptly shoved away and insulted once more, free to turn back and walk back toward your dorm without sparing either boy behind you a glance.

As you prepare yourself for bed, you notice the ache in your chest loosening just enough to let you breath deeply. If just for tonight, you'll fall asleep free from the fear that tomorrow will be the day you finally wake up as a stranger.