So, An Update To Windtrace, I Only Played For Protogems, Almost Puked The First Two Times I Played, I

PLEASE PLEAAASE don’t say a fic is slow burn if the characters are fucking on chapter THREE omg I need REAL slow burn, the agonising one, slow burn so slow you think they’ll never end up together ‼️‼️ slow burn where the TENSION is building up so BAD the eye contact is as good as smut PLEASE

It Always Leads To You

( bllk boys as situationships )

a/n — girl whose never had a situationship writing about them? what could go wrong? (they progressively get longer lol)

content — some nsfw but not explicit, pining, GN! reader, some characters repeated, all characters are 18 or 18+

synopsis — what kind of situationship the bllk boys would be

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' and the heart i'm breaking is my own ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' but you're best friends! '

you'd rather spend money on a hotel than stay at home 24/7 for the next week. how could you walk into your house when you knew he'd be there, chatting with you family as if nothing had changed?

maybe you should've pretended you had to work.

that would have saved you the grief of having to see, who was supposed to be, your best friend. how could you face him when the last thing you two talked about was being a couple and that...not going as planned.

well, maybe that wasn't the last thing you two talked about with each other. however, does defiling your families bathroom really count as 'talking'? ( most awkward easter ever afterwards ) you didn't really think so.

whatever, he was a pro-soccer player now, he may not even be at home this christmas. you'd just have to put up with his family, who you'd always loved, and then you could go home and avoid the situation until the next big holiday.

but of course, when you stepped into your childhood home you realized that you'd never get that lucky. there he was, just as handsome as ever, sitting on your families couch.

in your eyes, he looked like he belonged with your family more than you, but you supposed he earned that. he came home every holiday, unlike you who continuously came up with different reasons to stay as far away as possible.

if you left now, maybe no one would know you'd even shown up-

" woah, y/n! it's you! " or...maybe not. " i haven't seen you in forever, what have you been up to? " the voice that plagued your every waking thought crashed its way into your ears.

your best friend ( could you even call him that anymore? were you still his best friend? ) got up from his spot on the couch to come wrap his arms around you in a hug that felt more like home than home did.

" i've missed you, ya know? " he whispered in your ear, hands caressing your back in what felt like much more than what a 'friends' hug would be.

just a week. you could survive and coexist with him for a week. your resolve to never sleep with him set in stone now.

you just wished your resolve wouldn't have crumbled only two days later while your family was downstairs watching christmas movies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, AIKU OLIVER, rensuke kunigami, TOBITO KARASU

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the ' you cannot date them '

you’re a good person... or at least, you want to believe that. But how can you when your best friend sits in front of you now, talking about their ex?

she’s raving about how much she misses him, how everything fell apart at the worst time, how she’s still holding onto the hope that maybe they can fix things.

you try to smile and nod, pretending that you’re not dying inside. how can you even look her in the eye when he’s blowing up your phone right now? when you know exactly how he feels about you?

“it’s just so messed up, right?” she laughs nervously, like this is all just a bad breakup, nothing that can’t be smoothed over. “i’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

she doesn’t know that you already did something. You already did the one thing that could ruin everything. the one thing that she told you you could never do.

your phone continuously buzzing while she's talking, hoping she wouldn't notice you reach for it to silence it while she takes a sip of her drink.

your phone vibrates again, and you try not to look at it. you’re not sure if you’re worried that she’ll see, or that you’ll see what he’s saying. you’re scared of both.

him <3 ; are we still on for tonight? can’t wait to see you.

that familiar ache forms in your chest, and you can feel the betrayal to your friend, the confusion about your own feelings, but worse—there’s nothing you can do about it. you keep smiling, even though it feels like your heart’s sinking with every word your friend says.

" god, if you don't want to listen to me, just say so. " your friend says coldly. " i would have turned off my phone if it was you crying right now. "

" sorry, it's just my mom...talking about some new present she wants to get my brother. " you apologized. "oh, okay. is your brother a cutie?" you didn't even have a brother, showed how much she knew about you.

“whatever, what should i do?" your friend asks, her eyes bright with hope (or maybe delusion). "do you think I should text him? do you think we could still fix things?”

you want so badly to tell her the truth.

you want to be honest, to say what she needs to hear so that she doesn’t get her hopes up.

you want to tell her that he is already texting you, that maybe you are the reason he won’t talk to her.

but instead, you bite your lip and offer a shrug. "i don't know, honestly. maybe he needs time to figure out what he wants too."

"he doesn't need time. he needs me." she mused, staring at you like your answer was just the stupidest thing she'd heard all day. "no wonder you've never dated anyone, who'd like a ditz like you?"

The whole time, your phone is buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, like a constant reminder of your lie.

you; see you tonight :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ OTOYA EITA, ikki niko, RANZE KURONA, reo mikage, RYUSEI SHIDO

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧the... ' you'll never be first '

he's leaving soon, and you feel like you're dying.

you’d known for a long time that ‘casually’ seeing a pro soccer player would only lead to being left alone, especially someone like him—someone whose work always came first, and whose heart was as unreachable as the trophies he collected.

he’d said it more times than you could count: “love doesn’t come before soccer. It never will.” and you’d laughed, maybe even agreed at some point, understanding it was just the way things were.

so why does it feel like you’re drowning now, with him leaving just around the corner.

it doesn’t make sense. you’d known the deal from the start.

still, here you are—sitting in his bed, in the quiet of his room, the familiar hum of the city outside reminding you of how little time you really have left with him.

his suitcase is by the door, already half-packed, his jersey draped over the chair where he’d left it, as if he couldn't get out of here fast enough.

you’re almost sick to your stomach at the thought of him walking out that door in just a few days, never looking back.

you’ve spent enough time with him to know that when he leaves, he doesn’t look back. he doesn't look back at stadiums once he walks out, and he wouldn't look back at you either.

"it’s only a few months," he’d said, trying to make you feel better when the topic of him leaving first got brought up. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

but that’s not the point.

it’s never been the point.

you know he’ll be busy with games, traveling, sponsors,...women, all the things that make him too far to reach.

and yet, here you are, sitting in his bed, heart pounding, overwhelmed with the thought of it all ending. you thought you could handle this.

you thought you could be just another notch in his belt. but the truth is, you’ve been fooling yourself. you care too much. you’ve fallen for him, hard, and the worst part is—he doesn’t even realize it.

or maybe he does. maybe he’s known all along, and you were too scared to admit it.

the sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"hey, you okay?"

you glance over at him, watching him fiddle with his phone, one hand propped up on the headboard. his eyes meet yours, something in them that almost makes you believe he could stay. maybe, you're enough of a reason for him to stay where he is now.

but he won’t. you know that. his life is bigger than you. bigger than this city, this bed, and every memory you’ve shared together.

you nod, forcing a smile, trying to keep the strange bitterness from slipping into your voice.

"yeah, just thinking."

"don’t think too much." his lips curl up into that calming grin that’s made you feel better on several occasions. how could something that used to calm you make you feel like your heart was in your throat? “you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

it’s easy for him to say that. he’s used to moving on. he’s used to leaving. you? you're used to him being here.

his fingers tap absently against the screen of his phone. you can see the notifications lighting up—his agent, a few teammates, probably his parents, all reminding you of the inevitable: he’s leaving soon.

you want to scream. you want to ask him why he doesn’t care. why it’s so easy for him to slip away from everyone who loves him.

but instead, you pull your knees to your chest and keep your eyes fixed on him, as if the longer you look, you could magically gain telepathy to make him want to stay with you.

"how’s your flight looking?" you ask, hoping his answer would be that he cancelled it.

"all set."

and you can't breathe.

the casualness in his voice is what stings the most. the way he talks about leaving as if it’s just another day at the office, another game to be played.

he doesn’t get how you feel. maybe he can’t. maybe he’s just too busy not feeling anything.

The silence is deafening.

"do you... do you ever wish you could just stay?"

It’s a question you didn’t mean to ask, but it escapes before you can stop it.

You wish you could take it back the second it leaves your lips.

he looks up at you, and for the briefest moment, his eyes soften. for one second, he looks like he is completely and utterly yours.

he sets his phone down, sliding it onto the bedside table, then turns his full attention to you.

"i told you, didn’t i? love doesn’t come before soccer."

The words hit you like a train, but it’s not the truth that hurts—it’s the way he says it, like it’s not up for debate. as if it’s always been this way, and it always will be.

why can't he just try? just try to come home every so often...to you.

you feel like a fool. as if you've put your heart on display for him just to not even glance your way.

you know where you stand, even if it’s tearing you apart.

he doesn’t lie to you, doesn’t promise you things he can’t give, and maybe that's why you fell for him in the first place—he was the first person who didn’t play games with you.

"i’m gonna miss you," you say quietly, knowing that admitting it aloud makes it even worse.

his eyes flicker with something, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. he shifts, pulling his knees up to match yours, as if to say he’s close, but still so far. he rests his head back against the headboard.

and for a moment, you almost forget he’s leaving. you forget about the suitcase by the door. you forget about the plane ticket he has. you forget that in just a few days he wont be yours anymore.

"i’ll miss you too," he says softly.

but that’s it. that’s all he says. it’s not a promise, not a declaration. just another passing remark to fill the silence.

he doesn't mean it. it's more of a kindness thing for him to say it back.

you can feel the weight of everything unsaid.

you realize—he doesn’t know how much you care. He can’t understand you.

he’s never been asked to stay.

you’re not even sure you’d want him to. you can’t ask him to change his life for you. and you couldn't keep up with the lifestyle he lives.

the idea of him walking away—of losing him to something bigger, to something you’ll never be able to keep—feels like it will break you.

so you just lie down on his bed, for the last time, you tell yourself.

'after tonight, he'll be free of me'

after tonight, you'd walk out that door and not look back.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ITOSHI RIN, nagi seishiro, SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' to leave the warmest bed i've ever known ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

again, i've never experienced this, so i hope the research i've done (looking up different types of situationships) has done it justice!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

12 minutes. that's how long it's been since you texted itoshi sae back. 12 whole minutes.

he frowns at his phone, glaring daggers at the poor innocent screen that's really done nothing wrong. he hopes you can feel his stare through the device. 12 minutes is a long, long time; what could you possibly be doing that could be more important than texting your boyfriend back?

he stares at the screen as time ticks on. 12 minutes becomes 12 minutes and 30 seconds. 40. 50. 55. 59. 13 minutes. now, that is entirely too long. but he can’t double text because he’s not that desperate, he thinks. (he is. but his ego is fragile.) so he opts to state some more. and then a little more after that.

at the 13 minute and 45 second mark, his hand hovers tentatively over the call button as he debates his next moves; would calling you make him look a fool? or would it perhaps save you from whatever kidnapper was trying to nab you, or alien trying to abduct you? because in sae’s book, those were the only viable reasons as to why you may not message him back right away.

he gives in and calls you. he counts every single ring until you finally, finally pick up: “sae? hello?”

a wave of tension melts off his bones, anxiety he hadn’t even realised was building. relief tastes good and minty on his tongue as he relishes the sound of your voice. how honey-sweet is always sounded whenever you said his name. he doesn’t even realise he’s verbally ghosted you until you ask, “is anyone even there?”

“yeah. i’m here.”

he doesn’t need to be there to see the expression on your face— you look annoyed, confused, miffed. so pretty, too, always pretty. he’s not whipped though. not whipped, not desperate. just a regular guy worried about his girlfriend. (he’s not that pathetic— right?)

“why are you calling me? what’s up?”

he feels petulant and whiny like a child when he speaks as levelly as he can, “you didn’t answer my text.”

he’s not desperate. and he’s not whipped. but you laugh over the phone, and sae feels himself falling, positively swooning like the sappiest little bitch in town.

“babe, my last text to you was ‘bye’. i had to drive.”

oh. he supposes that you’re right. embarrassment mixes with indignation mixed with unbridled affection as he grasps for straws, “i know. i just wanted to make sure you got there okay.”

he hears you snort a laugh on the other end of the phone and he’s melting again despite his unchanged appearance. his free hand thrums against the table he’s seated at as he hangs on your every word, movement, sound, action.

“sure. sure you did. and now that you know i’m okay, it’s cool if i hang up, right?”

he responds a little too quickly. “no. stay on the line.”

“why should i?”

he narrows his eyes. “don’t be difficult.”

“okay. i’ll leave, then—“

“wait.”

a pause. he speaks again: “i just want to talk to you. stay with me.”

you almost want to push more, to tease a bit. to make him say please. but your stomach is already churning like crazy and you’ve got a swath of butterflies in your chest and god, do you love him. so you just say, “okay.”

you hear the slightest smile in his voice when he replies. “thank you.”

itoshi sae is usually not desperate. he’s not whipped, he doesn’t say please, he doesn’t say thanks. but for you? he thinks he can change the rules, just a little, if that’s what it means to have you.

[masterlist of masterlists]

updated: july 12 2020  

please tell me if someone goes on hiatus or off hiatus, goes inactive (formally stated by the blog) and if any of the links aren’t working! i will regularly (?) update this masterlist; also if you want me to put icons for different things then please request it! (like maybe a heart or writers that also write smut, or somthing)…this took a while to make :)…also if you know any authors not listed here, tell me//dm me, please! 

i will be adding a new key that will say is the blog writes smut or not. 

KEY:

★ ; favorite

☒ ; no longer active

☓ ; hiatus // semi-hiatus

bolded ; most recent additions

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ఠ_ఠ Is it my fault

Jack of all Trades [l.mk]

Summary: After saving an unknown and injured man from dying. All of a sudden, you’re under the protection of one of Seoul’s notorious mafia.

Genre: mafia!au, strangers-to-lovers!au, angst, fluff

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, smoking, language, implied sexual content 

Pairing: Mark Lee x f!reader

Word count: 7.4k

You have never been more relieved to go home after a long, gruelling day at your job. You’ve worked for a cafe for a while as a part time job, then became a full time thing after you’ve graduated to earn a little more cash to support yourself. After all, earning money is not easy. 

During one of your breaks, you instantly remembered that the results for the Nursing Licensure exams are bound to be released today. Without missing a beat, you immediately pulled out your phone, a notification popped up the moment you typed in your passcode.

LOCAL MAFIA WRECKS HAVOC, POLICE ADVICE CIVILIANS TO STAY INSIDE:

Kim Sohye | May 4, 2020 12:29 

You cleared the notification after and decided to read the article later. Crime is pretty high nowadays but you can confidently say that you live in a safe neighborhood because you’ve been walking home alone despite these happenings. 

Refreshing the site for the result, your fingers typing your exam number rapidly. How you wanted to cry at that very moment. Luckily, you can still do a retake, but you have to wait for 45 days for the next exam which gives you more time to prepare.

Keep reading

Lando Norris and 6!

something about him is made for somebody like me | lando norris

song; the boy is mine - ariana grande

a/n: anon let me tell you right now your mind is immaculate because i had a fic based on this exact song about lando but i didn’t ended up posting it howeverrrr i always had the idea to do something like this and you just made it possible so thank you 😽

part of the spotify wrapped special

You were never one for having many crushes. In fact, you could count on one hand the number of guys you’d liked, and you’d still have fingers left over. But Lando Norris? My God. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you were convinced you were destined to be together. He was made for you.

Of course, your feelings for Lando were your little secret. Outwardly, you had no intention of showing just how smitten you were. But back at your apartment at night, you’d consult your tarot cards, asking when the time would come for things to start falling into place. If your friends could see you, they would definitely be confused. Since when did you make such an effort for a guy? But they wouldn’t understand—Lando wasn’t just any guy.

Sometimes, it felt like your efforts paid off, like when Lando smiled at you in the paddock or greeted you casually.

“Hi, y/n,” he’d say, always with that mischievous grin that was so undeniably his.

He never skipped a greeting—not even on the days he had some model-of-the-month on his arm—but it never went further than that. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

It started innocently enough. You lit a candle for him and wrote letters, asking the universe to make him notice you the way you noticed him. Then, you began engaging him in casual conversations at the paddock before ignoring him for a couple of days, only to flash him a radiant smile as if nothing had happened. Not long after, Lando started bringing you fruit in the mornings to your workstation. You smiled to yourself—he’d never done that before.

One day, after a tough qualifying session that left him starting P11, you handed him a quartz crystal, saying it was for good luck. The next day, he won the race. Another time, you mentioned you’d light a candle for him, and he landed pole position. Lando started looking forward to your tokens or words of encouragement each weekend. And when you didn’t give him anything? Something always went wrong.

He began depending on you, convinced you were his good luck charm.

It wasn’t witchcraft, really. He was already a great driver—you just gave him a little boost of confidence, and he did the rest. But now, not a day went by when Lando didn’t scan the paddock for you as soon as he arrived. He began to miss you when you weren’t around. The endless stream of women in his Instagram DMs no longer mattered; the only woman who held his attention was you, and you always seemed preoccupied with everyone else but him.

It wasn’t just about luck anymore. Lando wanted to be around you all the time.

What was this feeling? And why did everything suddenly smell like vanilla and coconut?

Lando frowned when he finally spotted you, laughing with Oscar. Since when were you two friends? And why were you laughing so hard? There was no way the Australian was that funny, he thought. Jealousy coursed through his veins, and he had to restrain himself from dragging you to the most secluded corner of the paddock. Instead, he walked over to Oscar and casually informed him that Andrea was looking for him, leaving you and Lando alone.

“I was actually looking for you,” the Brit said, his expression serious.

You had to suppress a smile as you looked at him—furrowed brow, clenched fists, flushed cheeks. He was jealous. Another step in your plan was working perfectly.

“Well, you found me,” you replied innocently, flashing him a sweet smile.

Lando gave you a lopsided grin, studying you. You looked so soft and sweet—he wondered how you’d look in his bed. If only he knew.

“Nothing for good luck today?” he murmured. The air between you grew warmer, and you felt your cheeks flush under his intense, yearning gaze.

“I forgot to bring something,” you replied nonchalantly. “But I could draw some cards tonight if that would help you feel more confident.”

Lando shook his head, his eyes fixed on your lips.

“You and your witchy ways. They’re going to be the death of me,” he said, stepping closer until his face was just inches from yours.

“I’m not a witch,” you defended yourself, because you weren't. To your knowledge, at least.

The scent of vanilla and coconut flooded his senses, and he nearly groaned. Lately, he smelled it all the time. It took him a moment to realize it was just your perfume. Witch or not, Lando was utterly bewitched by you.

“Maybe something else?” he murmured, circling back to his earlier question. “Just a taste,” he said, his gaze dropping to your lips, and you knew exactly what he meant.

You hid your smile, realizing you now held all the cards.

“Let’s do something,” you began. “Get pole position, and then I’ll see you in my room.”

He actually whined.

“Give me something now—for luck,” he pleaded.

You shook your head.

“After what I’ll do, you’re going to become world champion.”

You winked at him and Lando smirked mischievously, while you concealed your darkest desires behind your sweetest smile. The boy was finally yours.

#scorose

REBLOG IF

You ship Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley.

{Regular Inspired AU x NCT 127} Mark Lee

tw: weapons mention, violence mention, be warned. everything written here is a work of FICTION, and does not in anyway reflect reality  an: please read the introduction to this au first so you understand :-) 

“i said i was going to keep you safe. i couldnt even do that.”

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Anyone play MeChat?, I played it out of curiosity and now... I really can't stop playing, like it has actually consumed my life?

If anyone needs it, here's my referral code: VR-JO6-YND