#<- said with admiration wonder and a bit of envy

[bluastro-yellow]

Disco Elysium had to look like something you'd want to pick up even before you had enough time to process what this elusive something was. We could not afford to hold back on cheap parlor tricks and flashy displays of technique.

- Disco Elysium Digital Art Book

#disco elysium #eggs&spoons #completely out of their mind. who says something like this about their game and makes it #<- said with admiration wonder and a bit of envy

[mickyschumacher]

NGL I LOVE UR WORK... ive been hopping thru ur m.list since the last hour.... its currently 1 am and i have an essay to finish before 8 am(im sure my prof will give me more time ik dey love me) anywasy i was wondering if u could do an enemies to lovers with Lewis((like really hated eachother)the reader could be a driver its oky don mind what she does) and then they were arguing abt sumting lewis says something thats completely out of the line and she starts crying in front him then he just kinda leaves her be, a few days later he would go on then apologize to her abt wat he said and then more fluff. (just ignore this if ur not into it or not takin a request at the moment. but im actually just hapi i kind of got the courage to ask u for a request also ur stories are soooo good i admire and envy u at the same time.)

𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: as lewis's former teammate, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. but a bad move from lewis puts him completely out of line.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: enemies to lovers trope!, poor humour, some fluff, in depth moment of an alternated 2021 wdc (apologies in advance), therefore ANGST, bad race jargon, horner and masi discussed :(, mention of intermittent explosive disorder, misogyny, allusion to racism (not from the reader ofc!), shitting on the fia for a bit, lewis kinda being a dick for probably an unfair reason lol, a proclamation of feelings from sir lewis himself

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lewis hamilton x red bull!driver!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: you're too sweet to me! 🤧 i couldn't tell if you wanted this to be romantic but i went that way in the end! hope this was good! ♡︎ very very loosely based of swift's 'right where you left me'. but if you argued it wasn't, i would be inclined to agree. proof-read...ish?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

No one ever truly understood your move to Red Bull. It was in 2019, far from when Max was practically living on pole, so Red Bull wasn't exactly a threat to Mercedes, your previous team. Toto had even put a three-year extension on the table several months before your contract came close to expiring.

Yet you had chosen to sign with the devil.

When the commentators, journalists, and fans took a closer look at your decision, the only thing they could all collectively agree on was that you had moved to Red Bull because of Lewis Hamilton. Because you both couldn't keep your differences aside and Lewis had finally struck your last nerve.

While you weren't quite sure about the last part, the first was true. You had Lewis had never ever exactly met eye-to-eye. Every F1 driver had a specific style of driving. You liked to call Lewis' the 'calm before the storm'. He raced with a composure and maturity that most drivers did not hold. He was particularly calculative and the everyone loved him.

You, on the other hand, had given yourself a new nickname along side 'Flash 13' because you did everything in a flash: you overtook ruthlessly and calculated, you pushed the car till it was undrivable, and you were decisive to the very nanosecond. But you had also garnered yourself the name 'IED', after the behavioural disorder.

In part this nickname was due to the misogyny you faced as the only current female driver in F1 but also due to the sheer anger that bursted out of you whenever you encountered Lewis.

The amount of warnings Toto had given the both of you was simply endless. He had even resorted to putting you two with the team therapist.

The source of your hatred for each other was as clear as day. You hated Lewis' arrogance because somehow it was even worse than Rosberg, Alonso, Räikkönen, and Verstappen. And Lewis hated you for your 'perspective'. You didn't know what he initially meant by that but you regretted asking him. He said you needed to be stronger to be in F1 and that you were far too soft-hearted. Right after you had gotten your first ever pole.

It was ridiculous, to say the least.

No F1 driver was soft-hearted. You were all, simply put, a bunch of dicks. Not literally, of course. Naturally, following that comment, Lewis had pissed you off. He hadn't even had a second to know you before even making that judgement. It was ironic as well, considering your nickname that labelled your anger.

After watching Lewis win several championship titles with you following multiple places behind and seeing you only get angrier with each other, you had decided to call it quits for Mercedes. If people were going to take your annoyance and frustrations with amusement, you were going to head to the angriest team of all and leave your former team fuming.

Two years later, in 2021, you had finally gotten the perfect opportunity.

You hadn't really a clue how exactly Red Bull had made the 2021 car so well that you were matching the speed of Mercedes' car but you didn't care. You were matching Lewis. And Christian Horner was a happy man. A sexist prick but a happy man nonetheless.

Pole was either Lewis' or yours. Either he was a Grand Prix winner or you were. It was a game of cat and mouse, always in a constant pursuit of each other. The same went from your team leaders, Toto and Christian, who practically had the race director, Masi, on speed dial.

And by Abu Dhabi, you were equally tied, locked at 369.5 points. It hadn't been easy after getting penalised for multiple incidents against Lewis, but you were here. Lewis was trying to get his eighth championship and you your first.

You weren't sure how this was going to end. Heck, no one could've predicted what happened that day. But all you knew was that you were not going down without a fight.

You secured pole in Abu Dhabi which had put the entirety of Mercedes and F1 on edge. After a discussion with your engineer and several strategists, you had opted for soft tyres to further your advantage over Lewis.

Despite all of that, it was Lewis who had led the first corner after those red lights had gone out. It was only by turn six did you even get a lead. But it was a moment too short as your former teammate regained his top position by going off into the damn run-off area of the track.

You didn't need to scream in annoyance. You couldn't hear Horner, but deep down you knew he had already called up Masi, demanding an investigation. Your engineer reported to you that the stewards had dismissed it. The gap between you and Lewis was getting bigger, the race was coming to and end, and you knew you needed a miracle towards the end of the race if you wanted to win.

And that miracle was called Nicholas Latifi. The poor guy had crashed into Mick and the safety car was out on the tracks. Thankfully, they were both okay, but the timing of it was simply impeccable.

You had pitted to get new soft tyres and Mercedes was on the fence about heading to the pit lane in fear of the race restarting. So Lewis didn't pit. Miracle 2.

You re-joined the track with five lapped cars in between you and Lewis. And soon enough, Race Control had given the dooming message: lapped cars were not allowed to overtake.

The taste in your mouth was bitter. You had cussed out Horner, asking why you were even seeing these lapped cars in front of you.

Then came Race Control again: only the five cars in between you and Lewis were allowed to overtake. Miracle 3.

But of course, F1 had a flair for the dramatics. Because you were fucking restarting. Putting you and Lewis on a tight show-down for the final lap.

The bad news? Lewis hadn't pitted yet.

The good news? You could overtake Lewis. Miracle 4.

And the headline? You won.

You fucking won.

You were F1's first female champion in history.

You made history... or, well, herstory?

Yes it was controversial. Yes it was dramatic. Yes, questionable decisions had been made.

But you won.

By the time you had gotten out of your car and finished with screaming and crying in pure happiness, you had finally caught a glimpse of Lewis.

A small part of you felt bad. You knew for a fact, that these decisions weren't 'human error' as the FIA would go on to claim the following year in Bahrain.

It was entertainment. It was business. It was money.

You had both worked so hard this year. But the fight between an F1 driver breaking the record for the most championship titles and the first possible female champion in F1 was too good to resist.

Things between you and Lewis after Abu Dhabi hadn't gotten worse. You just talked far less than you normally did. You barely argued with each other anymore. It was disconcerting to say the least. Especially now that you were struggling to match Max's pace, always coming second or third as per the instructions of your engineer. For a moment you thought, what was the point of winning if you weren't going to win again?

━━━━━━━━━━━

You were still determined. Beating your own teammate would be hard. But you weren't a stranger to the idea. You had spent years trying to beat Lewis while purposely being the support for him to win. They were two actions they didn't go together but it had happened.

That being said, the venture was proving to be more difficult than you anticipated. In fact, it had caused a full collision with Lewis in the first lap of the Qatar Grand Prix.

You were so focused on beating Max you hadn't taken a second to look around you.

"What the fuck was that?" Lewis' voice invaded the air as he barged into your driver's room, ridden with sweat and still in his racing gear.

"Look, I'm sorry okay. I didn't see you. It was my fault. End of story," You told him curtly, not really wanting talk to Lewis any further.

"Damn right, you didn't see me. You could've taken me or anyone out! Are you so fucking stuck up your ass that you couldn't see me?" Lewis asked incredulously.

You scoffed at his accusation. It was true. But you didn't like when the truth fell from his lips... especially not when they sounded like that.

"Lewis, drop it. No one got hurt. Let's just move on okay?" You queried, annoyance dripping from your voice.

"Why? Can't handle the truth, L/N?" He laughed gently, almost mocking you. "Right... you were always like that."

You snapped your head towards him, raising a sharp brow. "Excuse me?" You spat as if to say he was becoming dangerously close to crossing a line he did not want to cross.

Lewis folded his arms, shrugging nonchalantly. "What? You don't like the truth. It's simple. I told you that you need to be stronger because you're too soft-hearted. And you hated that. And now that I'm telling you that you're selfish, you obviously can't handle it."

"Oh my God, you are one to talk. Lewis, you are so blinded by your arrogance that you can't see anyone else win. That's why you can't accept that I won right?"

"Not Abu Dhabi, aga–"

"Yes, Lewis, Abu Dhabi again. You are so fucking sour about losing that even when the hate targeted me, you let it. You let them say that my win was due to race and gender. Me, Lewis, out of all people, me."

No matter your differences, you had stuck up for Lewis on many accounts when it came to the FIA, 'fans', and haters. But he wasn't there for you.

You could see dark expression fall onto Lewis' face. "That's not true, Y/N."

"Then what was it Lewis?" You flailed your hands in exasperation. "Because you sure as hell didn't come to my aid."

"Because you didn't deserve it!"

You blinked blankly, arms falling to your side. Your mind took a minute to process the words that had fallen from his lips in mere seconds.

Lewis' face dropped as realisation struck him. What the fuck did he just say? "Y/N, I–"

"Get out," You grumbled.

Lewis did a double-take on the fresh line of tears accumulating on your waterline. He took a step closer to you, hands reaching out. "No, no, no, Y/N, I–" But your words made him stop.

"Lewis, get the fuck out of here before I start screaming like the bitch everyone thinks I am."

You watched Lewis return his hands to the side, clenching his jaw tightly as he made way to the door of your room. He stopped briefly, hesitating to open the door, taking one last glance at you before leaving.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Four days.

You had pondered in deep thought for four days. And after 72 hours, one thing had become obvious to you.

Lewis wasn't with you or any of the other drivers. He was still in 2021, right where you had left him. Not a second had gone by for Lewis where he hadn't thought about Abu Dhabi.

What if he had just pushed for Bono and Toto to get him in that pit lane?

What if he had veered the car a little to the side and you didn't overtake him?

Lewis was still reliving the worst moment of his career and his life and everyone had moved on. Sure, every fan and commentator talked about it time to time. But it was something of the past.

To say you didn't deserve your championship title... you had heard it from several 'fans' and insignificant others. But to hear it from Lewis? It fucking killed you.

You cared about his opinion more than anyone in the world. And he knew that.

You would've never said anything as shitty as that to him or anyone for that matter.

You had worked your ass off to get to F1. Fuck, you had won F2 two fucking times because no one was willing to let a girl on their team... into a man's sport. Every driver worked hard to a certain degree. But you were a girl who didn't grow up with the means of driving yourself to your death every day. If everyone worked hard, you had worked ten times harder.

Everyone knew that you and Lewis had fought. And by the looks of it, they also knew it was far worse than your normal fights. You wouldn't look at him, you refused to speak to him, you spent minimal time in the same room, you had even paid your media fines in full to avoid everyone...

Max had even become some sort of bodyguard, telling Lewis to turn back around when he neared the Red Bull garage.

All of this protection, and yet, he had still found you in your favourite place. The one you both came to when you needed to become level-headed. The top stand of any empty Grand Prix, in this case the México Grand Prix, where the air felt a little bit cooler against your heated skin and you could think for even it was for just a second.

You sucked in a sharp breath, seeing Lewis in your periphery while you were firmly seated. He looked nervous, chewing on his bottom lip and taking cautious glances at you.

"Hey," Lewis greeted, making you raise a brow at his lame entrance.

You forced yourself to look at the rest of the empty seats in front of you. "Hey," You mumbled back, trying to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth.

An unsettling silence enveloped the both of you. You were sure Lewis was here to apologise. But you could also tell he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not in a selfish way. But in the most guiltiest way possible.

You sighed. "How are you?" You asked gently, peeking out of the corner of your eye.

Lewis winced at your question. Leave it up to you to still be this kind after what he had said to you. "Sorry. I'm so so sorry," He rasped, voice raw with the pain that had been gnawing away at him ever since those god forbidden words had left his mouth.

You nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. "I know you're going to call me soft-hearted but what you said really fucking hurt, Lew," You jested with a brief smile.

Lewis grimaced at your poor humour, before his ears perked up at the old nickname you had given him when you first started getting on each other's nerves. "I know. I'm an idiot for saying something like that. Or that you're soft-hearted. You've worked so hard for all of this. You absolutely deserve everything and that win was only the first of many, I'm a hundred percent sure of it. Your Dutch shortie doesn't really know what's coming."

You gave him a tight-lipped smile after huffing in amusement at his diss towards Max. "Thank you," you told him earnestly. "Although, I am quite positive he is like almost ten centimetres taller than you. But, thanks anyways."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "Have you seen me? You don't think I give off tall energy?"

"You mean tall in insults?" You joked, grinning at the blank look on Lewis' face.

Lewis sighed. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean any of it. And by 'it', I mean all of the insults and fights. I was just disappointed in myself. Even more so that I didn't stand up for you. I'm so sorry."

You drew your eyebrows together, turning your body to face him. Confusion filled you. "Then why did you say it at all?"

"I–" Lewis blew out a small laugh. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lewis, can you not see me dying here? Like a whole kitchen set of knives in my back?" You deadpanned.

Lewis rolled his eyes again. So dramatic.

He brought his hands together, staring at you briefly before looking at the empty stand. "Well, obviously, I heard of you before you joined Mercedes. I thought it was ridiculous that you had to get two F2 championships to get a seat, but anyways, I digress. Toto told me, he was considering you even though you had never been in the junior team.

And I remember just being so fucking jealous of you. Toto was consumed by you. He and Horner had been fighting for your seat for so long and now that they finally had an open seat, it was chaos. Toto won, obviously. And then we met each other in person for the first time and I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world."

You felt your heart begin to race and your skin heat at the sudden proclamation. "You... you what?"

Lewis smoothly glossed over the compliment. "And then we had our first quali together and you beat me. You got pole on your first race. So you were talented and beautiful. A crime, might I add.

And so when you came to tell me, you were so excited with all your talent and beauty, I was pissed. Because out of all things in the world, I had gotten an amazing competitor I was bound to feel for. I thought that by saying you were soft-hearted and all, it would get on your bad side and it would make me less attracted to you. It didn't. It got worse while it got easier to pretend to hate you."

You blinked blankly at him, cheeks aflame. Lewis Hamilton liked you. Your stupid teammate? The same one who's eighth championship you arguably took? "I'm sorry... hold up, we've been fighting for years because I'm a hot, talented, gifted, smart driver and you're a simp?"

Lewis squinted his brown eyes at you. "I did not include all those adjectives."

"I mean... that's basically what you said," You shrugged, flickering your eyes to the setting sun.

Where did all the damn cool air go? You wondered, pressing your hands to your flushed cheeks and feeling your soft palm absorb the molten lava known as your skin.

Lewis chuckled, picking up your flustered reaction quickly. He watched as you suddenly stood up. "Okay, well I'm... I'm going to meet Hugh and find a way to beat Max. See ya!"

Lewis paused, grabbing your wrist. "Wait? What? You aren't going comment about what I just said?"

You eyed his hold on your wrist: it was searing you. You turned to him, lowering your head to meet his gaze. You briefly looked down at his lips before looking back up. "I think I prefer hating you."

Lewis felt you press your lips on his cheek before walking past him. He watched your retreating figure, your kiss feeling heavy on his face, putting him right where you had left him: absolutely and utterly smitten.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic

[m00nsbaby]

Already over.

Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.

Word count. 3.4k

Summary.

We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.

It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.

You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.

Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.

The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.

You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.

It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.

The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.

"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.

"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.

You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.

Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.

Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.

"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.

You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.

The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.

"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.

He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.

You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.

"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.

"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.

"It's a fraud."

"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.

"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."

Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.

"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."

Ah. That.

That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.

"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.

How much longer could you go on like this?

After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.

"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.

"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.

You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.

The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.

"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.

"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.

"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Steven."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.

The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.

Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.

"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.

He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.

The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.

Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.

"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.

"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."

You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.

"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.

"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.

He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.

He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.

You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.

"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.

Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.

You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.

When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.

"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted today."

"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.

"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.

Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.

"Can we talk?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.

Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.

"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."

Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.

"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.

"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.

"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.

Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.

"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.

You were all he had, and he was all you had.

Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.

"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.

"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"

"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.

"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.

You gasped.

"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.

There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.

"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.

He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.

Love at first sight.

"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."

You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.

You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.

After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.

"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.

The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.

"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."

"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."

"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.

"She knows."

Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Ah?"

"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.

"Knows what?"

"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.

Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.

You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.

"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"

"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.

"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.

"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."

Ouch.

"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.

And maybe, not lose Marc either.

"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.

"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.

He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.

"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.

"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"

A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.

"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."

And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.

His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.

"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?

You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.

This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.

You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.

sorry, i got tired of happy endings

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x you #moon knight #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #moon boys #moon boys x you #moon boys x reader #moon system #moon system x reader #moon system x you #marvel #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you

[kyokutsu-sama]

Headcanons

“Y/n drops the towel in front of them on purpose to see their reaction” Tw: Very suggestive content A/u- I don't really bother to drop my towel in front of them because they're fine asf (They make me forget my shyness🤭)

-------------------------------------------------------

Kenpachi:

I envy your courage if you do something like that because you and I can imagine this man's reaction. He is not a man to think twice before acting.

Scenario- You were entering the room in the afternoon after taking a bath, you thought he would probably be resting but when you found him, he was lying on his side and looking at you when you walked in. He didn't say anything but you were surprised by how quickly he was already sitting on the edge of the bed looking at you, devouring you with his eyes. You hesitated for a moment just to make sure that it wouldn't be a bit risky but although you knew the consequences of your actions you didn't give up. You walked past him and "accidentally" the towel slipped off your body leaving you naked in front of him and he couldn't contain himself and ran his tongue over his lips.

"It fell, I should have held it better" You said with a fake and innocent smile and trying to grab the towel, but he grabbed your wrist and you looked at him

"Don't worry you won't need it now" He said before grabbing you and placing you on his bed

Trust me, you'll do it again after this… unless you managed to come out alive and walking normally afterwards…

Shunsui:

As a certified pervert like him, he will even drool when he sees you. He always reacts as if it were the first time because he never gets tired of admiring you.

Scenario- You leave the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your body when you see him entering the room at the same time, already with a smile on his face after seeing you. He greets you and lies down on the bed, leaning against the headboard and preparing the bottle of drink, you then see the perfect opportunity to drop it. He seems to be distracted but when he hears the sound of the towel falling, his eyes immediately go to your naked body and he chokes on his drink.

"Looks like it fell" You said smiling innocently

"Damn baby, you could drop it more often" He said licking the drops of drink that ran down the corner of his mouth and coming to you, running his hands over your exposed body

Don't try to pass by this man wearing just a towel too many times, otherwise he will lose control of himself.

Byakuya:

He's serious on the outside but on the inside I know he likes a good tease and that only becomes obvious when he's close to you. If you do this to him, his face won't hide how he feels about it.

Scenario- He was so distracted in his work that he didn't even felt you enter but when he saw you in a towel there he was grateful that it was the home office and not the division's office but he also wondered why you were there wearing just that. You passed by the table and in a "mere accident" you dropped it and he didn't stop staring at you, even with a serious expression his hands were starting to sweat and he could already feel something harden between his legs.

"Oops, it fell" You said smiling and seeing his eyes following you

"You really know perfectly well how to divert my focus, don't you? Come here"He ordered with a long sigh

Don't think he's going to let you walk around without punishing you first for teasing him at work.

#bleach #bleach fandom #gotei 13 #shunsui kyoraku #zaraki kenpachi #byakuya kuchiki #bleach x reader #bleach headcanons #kyoraku shunsui x reader #kenpachi x reader #kuchiki byakuya x reader #smut writing

[edges-of-night]

Omg I'm like in love with ur blog rn 💕💕 I was wondering if you could do one where the reader comes from a culture that honors warriors and such (kinda like the dwarves)? And so the reader is basically very skilled with weaponry, fighting...etc

Thank you sm 💕

Thank you for your patience with this request – it was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Having traveled a lot, Aragorn is familiar with your culture, though he has never been as close to someone from it as you. Seeing your famed warrior skills in person surprises him quite a bit – in a good way. He is enamored with the way you carry yourself and your weapons and, most importantly, how you lack a taste for cruelty and instead embrace mercy. He never gets tired of telling you that; it’s a value you both share.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen has great respect for you, since she is familiar with your warrior culture through her noble schooling. That said, she is also quite determined to introduce you to the finer side of life – something that you were never comfortable with or had any experience in. After all, the folk back home frown upon elaborate gowns and indulgent balls – but Arwen doesn’t care about your clumsiness. She always has a big smile on her face when you practice dancing! ♡

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Up until meeting you, Boromir has thought your people belonged to the realm of legends and children’s stories. Imagine his surprise when his rescue from the Orc attack came in the form of such a legendary warrior, dashing, loud and proud! To top it all off, you do not see the big deal of the affair and act very casual around the starstruck soldier. One smile is enough to make Boromir realise he has fallen for what he would’ve deemed a fairytale just one day ago!

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

Elrond deeply appreciates how dutiful and tidy you are. You two are much alike in that regard. The kind Elf values your time together. That is the reason he sometimes wishes you were his little secret – he is quite tired of the ‘scandal’ your presence in Rivendell is to some particularly insular individuals. Whenever someone would dare to even insinuate bigotry toward you, Elrond would be the first to defend you – rather ardently, too, having served in war himself: “Let us see how you speak of them after having your life saved in a bloody battle!”

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

Éomer may always say that he admires a fellow warrior – but the truth is, he first needs to come to terms with the fact that you are much more skilled and experienced than him. That is difficult for him precisely because he could very well imagine you as his romantic partner, but he knows that a relationship with such envy would be hard. The solution to his distress is hand-to-hand combat, which you never particularly cared for since it is not regarded as important in your culture. But dear Éomer is more than eager to practice with you!

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

It is absolutely needless to say that Rohan’s Shieldmaiden would be head over heels for you – but anyway! Not only does Éowyn love how adamant and strong you are, she adores training and sparring together with you. Her enthusiasm for your warrior culture can be overwhelming at times. You sometimes need to remind her that you are more than that. For a change, Éowyn would then teach you the songs of Rohan or tries to cook with you!

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

Faramir adores you a lot. He would offer to be your squire and tend to your weapons, your armour, as well as your wounds after a fight. He would always make sure you never lost that spark in your eyes – he loves it too much! And while he is a very skilled archer and captain himself, he would never miss an opportunity to announce you to his enemies or bullies. He would also defend you ardently against anyone who criticises your perceived ‘lack of culture’ and give them an entire lecture of your people’s history and customs.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo would’ve never known you were real. He has read about your people in his books and even imagined himself as such a warrior when he was a child. To meet you in person delights him to no end – he has a bit of a celebrity crush on you! However, with his attention so sharp, Frodo wouldn’t fail to notice your distress in social interactions. But luckily, being both a gentleman and social butterfly, he can help you with that – maybe in turn for a show with your knives?

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Galadriel has understood that you were the perfect bodyguard for her very early on. Other Elves may frown upon that – a warrior brute, without any regard for royal protocol or knowledge of Elven culture? So close to the Lady of Light, all day and night? But Galadriel doesn’t care a bit. She delights in the stories you tell her and even shows an interest in your swords, though a sorceress as powerful as her would never need one herself. She never treats you disrespectfully and values your opinion.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf cares very little for your culture’s glorification of warfare and honour. He’s seen the negative fallout of such extremes and is thus wary around you at first. Once he understood that you had a sense of humour though, he’d tease you quietly or give a flippant comment about one of your culture’s idiosyncrasies. It’d all be in good faith – Gandalf knows of the importance of self-defense, for example. Still, he much prefers just drinking a cup of tea with you ♡

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

You could bond almost instantly with Gimli. You two speak the same language. There is, of course, an element of rivalry – especially when it comes to axes. That said, Gimli would absolutely fall head over heels for you after seeing just how skillfully and lightly you could handle hatchets and axes alike. Maybe you’d even “show him how it’s done” and then nonchalantly lean against the weapon, giving him a smirk – he’d melt on the spot!

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir would, as always, pretend very hard that he doesn’t care at all for your weapon skills, stealth and sense of duty, and instead even show great disgust for your perceived lack of etiquette and politeness. But the truth is that you are the most intriguing and alluring creature he has ever met! He has always aspired to your level of conscientiousness and combat skills. He’d never say that, of course… but he might just challenge you to a duel and see how it goes – fully aware he would never stand a chance against you!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Legolas definitely has a thing for warrior types like you. He delights in your strength, skills and sense of duty. After all, he himself is an enthusiastic archer and wants to learn as much as he can from you. That said, he also teaches you some much needed levity – not every social interaction is a battle! Observing you amuses him a whole lot, but his smirk is never cruel. He is also the perfect partner to help you unwind after a stressful day of etiquette and polite smiles – he just gets you!

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry is a big fan of warriors. He yearns for your respect and affection – so much so that he’d greatly exaggerate his own combat skills to you, thinking he’d need to be just as martial as you to deserve your love. That is of course not the case, though you appreciate the effort he goes through. You would bond over combat training and philosophy alike. Merry is quick and eager to learn as much about your culture as possible.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin doesn’t know about the prejudice the old Hobbits have towards your people and thus treats you very differently than the others. He’d ask questions about war and honour that many would deem inappropriate. Even you yourself have to admit he is sometimes a bit overly eager. That said, Pippin would just as merrily introduce you to Hobbit customs, food and history. He’d also make a big point of the Tooks being “perhaps the most warrior-like Hobbits there ever were, honestly”, with an important look on his face, before breaking into laughter upon seeing you smile.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam leaves all the fighting stuff to you. He may dutifully separate the warrior and Hobbit cultures, but he really loves the dynamic you two share. He never shuts up about how proud your people must be of you, back home, seeing just how amazing of a fighter you are – sometimes that just means shooting an arrow to get a particularly red apple from a tree. To you, it’s a simple game, but Sam always kisses your cheek with great gratitude afterwards ♡

#lotr imagine #lotr headcanons #lotr x reader #aragorn x reader #arwen x reader #boromir x reader #elrond x reader #eomer x reader #eowyn x reader #faramir x reader #frodo x reader #galadriel x reader #gandalf x reader #gimli x reader #haldir x reader #legolas x reader #merry x reader #pippin x reader #samwise x reader #* ask #* request

[ahundredtimesover]

Belong (01) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.2k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Boston by Augustana; Shelter by Luca Fogale || Playlist 🎶

A/N: Posting this today to celebrate People pt.2 and D-Day! Here’s a little piece I’ve had for a while. It felt fitting to write something about dreams and finding your purpose through Yoongi and at a time when I’m going through something similar. There’s nothing like his wisdom and his warmth so I hope this could mean something to you somehow. 💕 Please enjoy! And 🫡 to NBA Ambassador Suga! Now that’s his 🏀 dream in another form.

Present Day

There’s always something magical whenever you watch yourself on screen. 

It’s not due to some narcissistic reason or an insatiable desire for the spotlight; it’s not even because you think you’re really talented. Sure, you like the attention and just like anyone who’s spent years of their lives perfecting their craft, you want to be pretty great at it, but all those thoughts become suspended whenever it’s your scene. 

During these instances, it’s only about your character and her emotions, and that’s what you think is remarkable about it - watching yourself is just like being there, in that moment, on that set, feeling it all. 

Most actors would say they love acting because it gives them a variety of roles and personalities to play. You like that bit, too, but it’s the character’s emotions that you commit yourself to the most; it’s being able to immerse yourself in the feelings of joy and anger, of contempt and fear, of envy and admiration, of guilt and love. You like the finiteness of it, that with acting comes the feeling, and you know at some point, it’s going to end. 

Once the scene is over, so is the emotion; you’re able to let go of it right away with one breath. You’re good at that, you think - holding onto something for as long as it’s yours, and then letting it go when it no longer is. 

The collective gasp of the people around you breaks your bubble only a little; you release a breath yourself as the last scene unfolds. And with the final shot and the succeeding transition to the end credits, you let go of the sadness.

“I can’t believe that only took one shot,” your best friend, Taehyung, says in awe. “I would’ve been crying already knowing how it ends.”

“Jin and I challenged each other,” you proudly say. “We said we’d do our absolute best for that first try and the director thought it was that good. Seriously, not crying until that last second was so hard; I didn’t think I could do it.”

The Kim Seokjin, your co-actor and good friend, looks at you from the other side of the couch with that soft and proud look that you only ever get from him once a project is over. You return the sentiment, knowing that you wouldn’t have survived your first lead role in a drama series if he wasn’t acting alongside you. 

He’d been your senior at university where you both took your major in acting. He was already modeling then and snagged a major role in a movie right after graduation; he became a household name after that. 

You watched from the sidelines as he achieved his dreams while you took the occasional 30-second roles given to the students, but he didn’t forget you. He called regularly to know how you were doing, gave tips when you asked, and informed you of upcoming auditions. 

It was the type of friendship that challenged you, given that you both wanted to one day star in a series or movie together, a culmination of all the long hours of rehearsals and line-reading and classes that you both did. He had already made a name for himself; you wanted to be good enough to have yours be opposite his. 

It would take a few years, but after a supporting role in a romcom movie that saw people wanting more of you, you and Jin finally got cast in a series about a mortal woman falling in love with a celestial being, which, at the beginning, reflected your respective statuses in the industry. You expected the show to do well - everything that Kim Seokjin touches turns to gold, as the saying goes - but you didn’t expect for the public to love you both as a pair as much as they do, given that they want you to star in another show right away. 

“I cried as I turned around,” Jin says of the scene where he had to go back to his world and leave you behind. “That was heavy and even I’m impressed we did it in one shot.”

“Well, the sadness and grief would have dwindled by the third or fourth time,” you chuckle. “I’m not good enough yet to maintain all the emotions after so many takes.”

“Not that you aren’t good enough,” Jin counters. “You just haven’t been in the industry that long yet. That kind of experience makes a difference. I’d say I wouldn’t have been able to sustain the same emotion for long, too. It was a difficult one. I mean, what goodbye scene isn’t?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course, but much of why it was difficult for you to keep the emotions in was because it was your first goodbye scene. You have a feeling that the succeeding ones wouldn’t be any easier, though. You’d like to think you’re okay with goodbyes and that says a lot, but then again, you don’t know anyone who’s actually good at it.

Or maybe you do. But you’d rather not think about it.

It’s silent for a few more seconds. You suppose that the rest of your co-actors who are here with you are still processing the end of a series that’s been their source of comfort for the past few months, too. It had been your weekly routine to watch the episode together in Jin’s house, not wanting to let go of each other just yet after filming wrapped up a few weeks ago. 

“Well, that was amazing, wasn’t it?” He finally speaks up. “It was a good run and thank god that ___ insisted on these watch parties. Or else I’d be crying by myself in my room after the finale,” he laughs. “This better not be the last time we see each other.”

“Because it isn’t,” you reply. “We still have that cast and crew dinner and a couple more filming stuff for promo. That’s easily another 3 more weeks of being together. Which is really 3 weeks too short.”

“So… does anyone want to go on a trip after that?” Hyun-seung, one of the actors, excitedly suggests. “It’d be a good way to unwind and use up what we’ll earn.”

You laugh along with everyone but you’re the only one who passes up on it. 

“I can’t,” you sigh. “I have a trip to Daegu at the end of the month and I can’t move it.”

Disappointed sighs echo throughout the living room, and you insist that they should continue with the trip without you. Most of them don’t want to, but you eye Jin so that he would make the call to push through with it even if you won’t be around, so he does. It’s rare to find such good company with other actors, and you truly want them to maintain the friendships they built here way beyond the series. 

Your friends make general plans as you listen in, wishing you could be there instead of home, which is where you’ll be for the next 2 months as you promised your family. Or more like, as they guiltripped you into doing. 

You haven’t been home in years and for good reason. After your parents separated and you were the lone child who didn’t harbor anger towards your mother who wanted to pursue her dreams elsewhere, you promised yourself you’d leave that place, too. 

Visits during summer had been fine. But after the most painful goodbye you ever made, you’d stopped going back altogether, reasoning that your up and coming career required all your time. You doubt that your family knew the truth, and despite their remarks of you following in the footsteps of your mother, those weren’t enough for you to open up about something so heartbreaking, knowing it hit too close to home. Their bitterness wasn’t a reason for you to keep going back either. 

“Daegu, really?” Jin asks after everyone else has left, save for Taehyung and Jimin, your personal assistant whose glassy eyes say he’s not yet over the season finale. “You haven’t been home in 6 years.”

“Four, actually,” you correct him. “I had a filming there sometime ago.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t actually go home,” he clarifies. “You went to the shoot then back to your hotel. I remember that; I kept asking Tae how you were doing.”

“I was fine,” you shrug. “How was I supposed to be? I was good, just couldn’t wait to get back here. I had a boyfriend, remember?”

“Andrew was a fling, not a boyfriend,” Jin rolls his eyes, and you confirm that the model is his least favorite of your exes. “And if I remember correctly, you broke it off days later.”

“Well, it stops being good when it stops being fun,” Taehyung says, mocking your usual statement whenever your friends ask why you broke things off with your partners. “She shut down when she came back. I guess going home does that to her.”

“You know how places just naturally comfort you? Daegu isn’t that place,” you try to explain. “I had to get it off my system for the one week I was there and Andrew acted out. I just didn’t want the drama.”

Everyone nods, knowing it’s how you usually are. You always viewed relationships as a complement to your job. Being an actor is tough work with its own complications and you definitely don’t want it from your partner. It was always easy for you to fall into that honeymoon hole with someone, but you always walked away from it just as quick once the rainbows and butterflies had subsided. Whether it’s jealousy over your leading men or not having enough time, or just wanting to be by yourself to regroup, your exes always found a reason to argue. And you were always good at walking away when you needed to.

It was like that with every person. Except one. Your friends don’t know if he’s the reason why, or if he’s the exception.

“So what made you decide to go home? And for how long?” Jin queries, feeling a little worried because of what he knows is out there for you. He’s always been a little protective like that.

“About 2 months?” You respond, to the surprise of the older man. “My dad wants me to celebrate his wedding anniversary with them. And spend time with my sisters’ kids and my grandparents and shit.”

“And spend time with my parents,” Taehyung adds, knowing it’s probably the only thing you’re excited about, given how much they adore you and vice versa. “They can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here,” you finally smile. “We’re definitely seeing them first.”

“Anyone else you’re going to see there?” Jin asks some more.

“You can say his name, you know?” You nudge your friend’s knee. “I know he’s who you mean.”

“Well then. Are you going to see Yoongi?”

“I don’t plan on seeing him but I probably will. It’s a big city but it’s a small town. Plus, I’m with Daegu’s Prince right here,” you say, pointing to your best friend who’s made a name for himself as a ballad singer. “Tae will be dragging me around so I won’t be surprised if I encounter Yoongi somehow, somewhere.”

“And what happens when you see him?” Jimin now asks, wanting to know if he’d need to drive to you in case you decide to come home early. 

“Then I see him. We’re… fine,” you state, earning you an eye roll from each man, so you clarify. “I mean, I’m perfectly fine living my dream in Seoul. And he’s a college basketball coach in Daegu, which is the closest to his dream he could get, and I heard his team’s doing really well. It’s been 6 years. He let me go. And I’ve moved on. Who knows how it’s gonna be like? But I’m civil with each one of my exes and it won’t be any different with him.”

“He’s different, though,” Jimin points out. “You actually loved him; you can’t say the same for all your exes. And you can’t argue that,” he adds, seeing your shaking head and disagreeing face. “Drunk and hungover you told me all that more than once and I trust that version of you over the sober one when it comes to your love life.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All,” you frown at him. “I wasn’t going to deny that but it was the naive, impulsive, hopeless romantic version of me who loved him. That’s not me anymore. I’ve grown up. I know what I want from my partner, and Yoongi is just the small town boy who’ll always think that his broken dreams will keep him from loving me the way I deserve. And maybe he’s right.”

It’s quiet for a while, as your friends take in your words since you rarely ever talk about the man unless you’re in an inebriated state or recovering from it. But it’s the first time that the possibility of seeing him looms over you, knowing that within those 2 months, you’re bound to run into him somehow. 

Now it’s too quiet, and you realize that none of you know what to say since you’re all sober. Truth be told, you don’t remember anything that Jimin’s ever told you during those times that you opened up, and Jin never really said much, knowing how hard that breakup hit you. And Taehyung, well… the man was there before, during, and after it all, yet he never really said much, always choosing to let the silence engulf both of you.

“Look, I’m touched you all seem to be worried,” you finally speak up. “But I’m going to be fine. I found a house I’m renting that’s nice and private. I’m actually excited to eat at my favorite restaurants and visit places I’ve missed. I can’t do anything about my family but at least Tae will be with me the whole time and save me from their madness if he needs to. And Yoongi, well… he’s a closed chapter in my book. There’s no reason to revisit that. Hi, goodbye - that’ll be it, just like before.”

You sigh to yourself, hoping that your friends would take your word for it, though you don’t really blame them if they don’t. They’ve seen you barely bat an eye after calling it quits with your exes but they’ve heard of how broken you were because of that breakup; seeing Yoongi again might just bring up old memories that you might not be ready for. And they won’t all be there to lift you up like they’d want to. 

“Okay then, if you say so,” Jin finally smiles. “But if something comes up… you know I can always drive there and bring you back here.”

“And add to the already existing rumors about us being a thing?” You laugh, referring to all the social media fodder about your chemistry that’s too good, it might be real. 

“So? Then we let it,” he shrugs.

“Does the Kim Seokjin not care about dating rumors?” You gasp. “You always complained about it. Don’t tell me you like me.”

Jin sits next to you and cups your face in his hands. “I… love you. The way a dear friend who dreamed with you and who gets to live that out with you does. We all love you. We’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” you say, humming once he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, just like all the times he’d done before - when you graduated university, when you didn’t get callbacks, and when you landed your first major role. “Thank you.”

You decide to head out after a long evening. Jimin lists your activities for the next day before he’s dropped off at his apartment. Taehyung lets you listen to his new single for his upcoming album, and you get emotional over his soulful sound and the fact that he gets to live out his dream with you, too.

He walks you to your front door and hugs you tightly, just like all the times he’d done before - when you cried about your family, when Yoongi broke up with you, and when you found out he was dating someone new. 

“I love you, okay?” Your best friend whispers. 

He says it in that soft, comforting voice of his. The one that always told you that things were gonna be fine, as if love solves all things, and at one point, you believed it did. 

Your hometown of Daegu looks very different from the last time you were really here. It changes a lot. And it changes pretty quickly. 

But some things about it stay the same - family-run restaurants, streets lined with little shops passed down from generations, the parks and the temples, the playground in your old neighborhood with the basketball court that you know all too well.

They make the place home, Mrs. Kim says. That doesn’t change no matter how far or how long you’ve been away. 

You want to disagree. This place was never home. It felt like bits of it during the times you used to watch ballet performances at the Opera House with your mom or when your dad used to grill makchang on Friday nights. 

But when she decided to leave and then he remarried, you had just memories of home left. Your sisters’ resentment over your happiness for your mother as she achieved her dreams took all that was remaining, and coming here reminds you more than what you lost; it reminds you of what you can never have - that space to dream, the place of safety, the love that would endure time and distance. 

You enjoy the best short ribs dish over Mr. Kim’s recordings of his saxophone performances. Mrs. Kim dotes on you like her own daughter, and Taehyung announces all the things you’ll be doing now that you’re both back home, taking your respective breaks that you deserve, and spending the money that you worked hard for. 

You eventually leave for some rest. The house you’re staying at is far from the buzz of the city. It’s private and secure, a little too spacious for one, and boasts of the views of the mountains. Jimin had found it, knowing you’d need the peace and quiet amidst all that would be taking place during your short time here. 

Taehyung will be staying over at his parents’ place, but they insist that it’s open for you to visit anytime you want. You think you need the time for yourself, though. Your job often requires you to be around people, and you’re thankful for the choice you have now to be away from them. For some time, at least.

[From: Manager Jung] Are you settled? I’ve got a script for you to go through. Sending it now 

Your agent-slash-manager’s message disrupts your moment of tranquility as you sit out at the garden, watching the sun set. You’d arrived from Seoul in time for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon at Taehyung’s parents’ house before heading to yours. 

[To: Manager Jung] Yeah, all good. But give me a week until I read the script. Don’t want to think much about work yet 

[From: Manager Jung] Fine. Just don’t take too long 

You sigh, knowing that though you promised Jin and Jimin that you won’t be thinking about work while you’re here - you need a break from it all, they told you - your manager won’t really let you. And much as you want to complain about him pushing you real hard, you’re thankful that Jung Hoseok always does. 

He was the one who saw your talent and insisted you’ve got a bright future after one casting call that you were almost late for. He was strategic in which roles to pitch you for as a rookie actor, and which ones would get you ahead of the game, no matter how challenging it was. During the times you wondered if you were meant for this industry, he always assured you that you were. There was always going to be a bigger break after the last, he believed, and he promised you he’d go searching for that role until you got the biggest break of your career. 

And every time you think he’ll cross the line of pressuring you too much, he says something sweet, brotherly, friendly. 

[From: Manager Jung] But take care of yourself there, ok? Don’t let them talk down on you. Don’t let them crush your dreams 

You’d cry if his words came with a hug.

[From: Manager Jung] And guard your heart. Don’t let him hurt you again 

You pretend he means your father; he let your sisters’ resentment of you go on after all, and his inaction made you feel unloved in your own home. 

You don’t want to think that Hoseok means someone else because it would mean that for all the times you questioned if everything you gave up to chase your dream was worth it, then he knew it was because of the man who broke your heart 6 years ago. You don’t want to think that all these years, Hoseok knew that your buzz-worthy dating life, whose aftermath he always had to manage, was just your futile attempt at getting over the first and only man you ever loved. 

Being in any sports facility unsettles you. You always claim that the buzz of sporting events just isn’t your cup of tea - you prefer the noise of a film or television set, or of a theater right before the movie starts. It wasn’t always like that, of course. You used to enjoy the screams and heckles of sports fans; you used to be one of them. 

But you found out the hard way that losing someone means you lose the parts of you that you’d adopted because of them, that you fall out of love with the things you used to love because of them.

Basketball is one of those things. It’s why Taehyung used to not invite you whenever there were Thunders games at Jamsil despite the free tickets always available for you; he knew you’d say no and he hates rejection. 

But Mr. Song is a man you can’t say no to. Not only is he the city’s mayor, he’s also a good friend of your father’s, which is how the chief official got wind of your return. 

Your trip isn’t meant to be publicized. Actors take breaks and visit their hometowns regularly without attracting the media, and oftentimes, that’s thanks to the local government, who employs their political will and own security to ensure that celebrities aren’t disturbed while they’re on vacation or just visiting family. It’s good for them, of course, but it also sometimes comes with small favors, like a private dinner with some of their close friends and some photos or autographs. You don’t really mind, especially since the same is extended to Taehyung, hence why the lunch earlier at the mayor’s residence wasn’t all that bad. It was only slightly awkward with your father because you chose to meet up with Taehyung’s family first before yours, but your dad didn’t dwell on it. 

Other than privacy, one other thing you get are free courtside Korean Basketball League tickets. The Pegasus just recently moved to Daegu from Incheon and there’d been a lot of promotion to get the city to give their full support to their new hometown team. Mr. Song thinks that photos of you and Taehyung attending the game will be the publicity that the team needs, and while your best friend genuinely agrees to the arrangement, you only do so half-heartedly. You’ll at least see your friends who are playing for the other team, but even the thought of Jungkook and Namjoon being back home and the party they’ll throw after is making you even more unsettled. 

“Hmm, number 16 was pretty cute,” you whisper to Taehyung as you head out of the locker room after some photos with the home team. “I wonder if he’ll be at the party tonight.”

“No, he won’t,” your best friend responds. 

“Why not? Because he’s from the other team? I’m sure that Jungkook won’t mind, right? I mean, yeah it’s his house but—”

“Tonight is for college friends only.”

“We didn’t even go to their university,” you point out, given that you and Taehyung studied in Seoul and had met there, instantly clicking after finding out you both hailed from the same city. “Why are we going?”

“We are honorary members,” he replies. “I went to high school with them and you…” he trails, trying to figure out how to phrase how you became an honorary member of their group of friends without bringing him up. 

“Are the ex of one of their friends,” you finish for him. “You can say it, you know?”

“I don’t know, can I?” He arches a brow.

“Yes. I don’t deny the fact that Yoongi and I dated.”

“You just deny how much it affected you.”

“You mistake my amazing ability of moving on for denial,” you groan. “But oh shit. Wait. Does this mean that he’ll be there at the party?”

Taehyung huffs as he settles in his seat and looks at your worried eyes. “For someone who doesn’t seem to be in denial, you sure look a bit anxious that he might be there tonight. Didn’t you say you can be civil with your exes?”

“Yeah, I can,” you reply defensively. “I don’t know about him. But then again, he moved on first, so I doubt seeing me would affect him much.”

Your best friend lets out a breath, not wanting to argue. He’s learned long ago that when it comes to Yoongi, you’re dead set on many things - like the narrative that he moved on first, that he was so much happier without you, that dreams were always more important for him, whether it was yours or his. Taehyung tried to help you process that whole experience, especially the aftermath, as you went on dating one man after another after you found out about Yoongi dating some local musician. 

But you always had a default answer, that you’ve always been that way - quick to fall in love and quick to fall out of it, and Yoongi was no exception. You met, fell in love, and while you technically didn’t fall out of love, the breakup left you no choice but to do just that; he was the one who insisted that you leave, after all, and you’d been the one too heartbroken that he didn’t love you enough to make you stay.

“Well then let’s just see what happens,” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ve got a game to watch, a party to go to, and friends to catch up with.”

“And a nice, peaceful home to retire to after tonight. I’ll need all the good energy before I see the rest of my family tomorrow,” you sigh.

Right, there’s that, Taehyung frowns. Your family’s too complicated that you insist you don’t want him to get sucked into the drama, hence why you don’t want him to go with you. But between that and the possibility of seeing your ex, he could only hope that during this trip, you won’t get your heart broken too early, too quickly, or too hard.

“How is it that the Pegasus have been playing here for months but it’s the first time we’re watching their game live?” Geumjae asks incredulously as he sips his beer. 

“Because it’s the first home game of the season against the Thunders when I’m home and when Jungkook and Namjoon don’t have girlfriends to give their tickets to,” Yoongi explains to his older brother. “And well, I never asked before.”

“Well, good on us that you’re here and your friends currently don’t have girlfriends,” Geumjae laughs. “Also, you could totally ask. They’re your friends; I don’t think it would be that hard for them to get extra seats for us.”

“I’m not their only friend here. I’m sure a bunch of the guys from college would ask,” Yoongi shrugs. 

“You’re not just their friend, Yoon,” his brother groans. “You played with them, you captained them, and led them to college championships.”

“Yeah, yet I’m the one hustling it out as a college coach while they’re playing pro,” the younger man huffs. 

He doesn’t mean to be bitter. He loves those guys, hustled it out with them until the late evenings just to get the proper training and workout in almost a decade ago. He couldn't be any prouder when Jungkook and Namjoon got drafted to professional teams and then reunited as teammates with the Seoul Samsung Thunders just 2 years ago. Yoongi had been the encouraging senior who messaged them right away, happy for his peers for being together again just like old times. He won’t lie and say it didn’t sting a bit to be left out from the life they all dreamed of having, with him being the only one who didn’t get to achieve it alongside them. 

“Well, if it matters at all, you’re doing amazing,” Geumjae tries to cheer his brother up. “I read online that many are calling your team to win it all this year. Imagine being the only person in your school’s history to be a champion player and coach? Not just anyone can say that.”

Yoongi hums, trying to let the thought comfort him. It doesn’t do much; coaching a college basketball team is leagues away from playing professionally. The energy is different, so is the hustle. Shooting hoops with the kids during training isn’t the same. The lights and the cheers as he sits on the bench calling plays isn’t the same either. He can at least say that with coaching, he’s able to shape and mentor the young ones, direct them to better paths, encourage them to reach their dreams, and to not settle for a life they’re not happy with or proud of. He’s got a bunch of players who got drafted last year and dedicated their first professional game to him, and that’s an indescribable feeling he’ll always hold onto. It reminds him that even if it wasn’t him, it was at least someone he cared about. 

He watches as the players do their warmups on court before the start of the game. This isn’t the first time he’s watched live, but it’s the first time with Jungkook and Namjoon as teammates, so seeing them goof around and do the handshake that they used to do warms his heart a little. Maybe it’s this bit of joy that he needs to remind him that it’s okay, that even if life turned out differently for him, at least basketball is still part of his life. There’s more he wants, of course, but this is way better than nothing. He reminds himself at one point, he didn’t think he could ever set foot on a basketball court again.

The game finally starts and though he’s usually quiet whenever he watches games, he can’t help the small small cheer he makes whenever Jungkook or Namjoon scores or makes crucial plays. He still knows their moves, can still read Jungkook’s pump-fake, and can still tell by Namjoon’s stance if he’s gonna make that rare three. Though he was a shooting guard during his glory days, Yoongi still prides himself in his playmaking skills and knowing his teammates well, something that scouts used to rave about. 

Yoongi sips his beer, no doubt enjoying the exciting match. He obviously wants the Thunders to win, but the Pegasus aren’t backing down, not letting themselves trail by more than 8 points. He’s in a bit of a trance, as he lets himself drown in the cheers of the crowd, imagining that it’s him leaving it all out on the court. 

But as he looks up on the big screen during timeout, he feels like the air is being sucked out of him. His ears don’t betray them either, as the announcer calls on your name and Taehyung’s - “celebrity sightings,” he says, while you and your best friend wave to the camera and smile like the superstars that you both are. The cheers get louder and Geumjae joins them until he realizes.

“Shit, that’s your ex-girlfriend,” he whisper-shouts. He laughs at the scene of his brother practically choking on his drink. “Wow, she still has that effect on you, huh?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, desperately forcing his heart to slow its beating. 

“Did you know she’s gonna be here?”

“I don’t keep tabs on her whereabouts, Geumjae,” he replies, suddenly sounding hard, defensive.

“Do you think she’s gonna be at the party?”

Fuck, the party, Yoongi slightly panics. Jungkook talked about the sort of reunion he’s throwing at his house after the game. Their old teammates will be there, as well as some other friends from college who are still in the city. You and Taehyung were honorary members of that group and Yoongi knows that you’re both invited, too.

“I guess,” he merely shrugs, looking like it doesn’t bother him much. 

It shouldn’t. It’s been 6 years, and while he’d been the one to break it off, you’re the one who’s dated a lot since then, something he can’t fault you for. You’d obviously catch a lot of attention - you did catch his - not just for your charm and unbelievable beauty but for your talent as well. He’s not surprised that you’re rumored to be dating Kim Seokjin, said to be this decade’s most desired leading man and who also happens to be your good friend, the one who’d helped you out a lot during your years in university. Yoongi used to be a little jealous then, something he never told you, and well, he guesses it’s meant to be with you and Seokjin now, a man he could probably never live up to. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Geumjae breaks through his thoughts.

“Yeah. Why won’t I be?” Yoongi huffs, sinking back to his seat to watch the game that suddenly isn’t so interesting anymore. 

His question is left unanswered and his brother resumes his cheers, no doubt invested in this match that’s now tied. But Yoongi drifts in and out, his eyes following the players up and down the court then mindlessly landing on you. You’re seated in a relaxed manner, the opposite to how you used to watch his games. He sees you silently cheer for the Thunders, too, and you giggle at Taehyung when you scream louder than you intended, your hand covering your mouth as you lean on your friend and he laughs along. 

He could hear the sound of your laughter from across the gymnasium, as if the way the dulcet tone of your voice used to send shivers down his spine whenever you giggled in his ears was just yesterday. He shakes off the goosebumps he feels and tries to sit comfortably on the chair.

“Are you nervous?” Geumjae asks. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Since when was I ever loud during a basketball game?” He shoots his brother an incredulous look. 

“You may not make a sound but your body does,” the older man points out. “I could feel you buzzing earlier and cheering in that Yoongi way of yours but now,” he eyes him up and down, “your legs are just bouncing. And you're biting your nails again.”

Yoongi catches himself. He forces his leg to be still and tucks his hand under it. It’s a tell he has, and he has no doubt that his brother has caught on. Still, he lies. “The game’s close. I want the Thunders to win.”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yes, now can we just focus on the game?” Yoongi chides, not wanting to confirm whatever his brother’s suspicions are. 

“Fine, but for the record, I know exactly why you’re nervous.”

“I don’t really care.”

Geumjae sighs as he watches his brother’s gaze go to you once more, unknowingly, perhaps, as Yoongi seems to shake himself off after every time he realizes that his eyes were locked on your direction. But he can’t blame the younger man. You entered his life and he fell, extremely hard, and letting you go was the most difficult thing he ever had to do. Yoongi doesn’t need to tell him though, but there’s enough of his younger brother’s broken pieces lying around for Geumjae to know that it was also something he regretted doing, and he wishes his brother was at least brave enough to admit all that.

The Thunders win by 5 points. It was nail-biting until the very end. It was Namjoon’s crucial offensive rebound and Jungkook’s 3-point shot that sealed the game for them, and Yoongi was present enough to witness those last few plays. He decides to enjoy this moment with his friends, knowing they’d be asking him about it later. If he’ll still go to the party. Somehow, seeing you again made him a little dizzy. It was still on the screen, but now he’s not sure he’ll know what to do when he sees you in person. 

He and his brother let the crowds go before heading out separately. Geumjae’s car is parked elsewhere, and Yoongi decides to head to the washroom and pace his walk to the parking lot. Hands on his pockets and eyes glued to the floor, he hears a gasp, and he releases one himself when he sees you, hiding behind one of the vending machines as a group of fans at the end of the hallways starts walking towards your direction, wondering aloud where you went. 

He sees the panicked look in your eyes and decides to stop the crowd before they come any closer. 

“She headed that way,” he announces, pointing to the right. “There’s an exit there. She probably left already.”

You hear the disappointed sighs, and much as you don’t want to let your fans down - you’re not one to deny them autographs - there have been too many of them this afternoon and you weren’t mentally prepared to accommodate each one of them. The footsteps disappear not long after and you let out a sigh of relief. That was close, but you didn’t expect Yoongi, of all people, to be the one to stir them away.

You turn to him, about to say your thanks, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat. You recall being a giddy mess the very first time you saw him, with nibbled lips and palpitating heart as you watched him shoot baskets and dribble the ball like no one’s business, and you’d been a goner since then. But he was a lot thinner during that time. His hair was cut short and his eyes had this sharp, confident gaze that usually intimidated people. You eventually saw how they softened only for you, though, but you’ll always remember that summer and how he had you wanting him at first glance. 

This man before you isn’t all that different. He still has the same sharp eyes, with his look penetrating right through your soul like he knows you and well, he does, which is also why he was quick to misdirect the crowd after he perhaps saw the look of worry on your face. His tiny nose is the same, so is his pale skin. But his hair is now long, pushed back in the middle as it softly reaches close to his shoulders. He’s a lot leaner; you can easily tell from what’s hiding behind his thin white shirt underneath his blue jacket. You recall him dressing mostly in monotone colors, so seeing him in something a little more striking is new. He’s gorgeous just like before, and you don’t really know why you expected that he wouldn’t render you speechless this time around.

“___,” he calls out. “Were they bothering you?”

“No, uh…” you stutter, hating yourself for suddenly being nervous. “There were just too many of them and they were getting quite close, I kind of panicked. Stupid, really. I should be used to it by now. More of them came and I just…”

“If they were invading your personal space then that’s not right,” he says, his tone so serious you mistake it for worry. “Did they touch you or anything?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that. I just got a bit overwhelmed.”

“Where’s Taehyung?” He asks, as you watch him walk to the vending machine where you’re hiding, tap his card, and then get the bottled water that falls out. He opens it and hands it to you as if he’d done this so many times before, and well, he actually has.

“He met up with a couple of friends,” you explain. “The crowd got to me right after and I kinda lost him, but I told him I’ll meet him outside, somewhere near where the players come out.”

“Hmm, okay,” Yoongi hums, looking away. 

He should’ve expected you to look way more beautiful up close but he tends to overestimate his ability to be entranced by you. He’s surprised he even got any word out, but the worry crept in the moment he saw you look a little winded and he just wanted to make sure you were alright. You’re a celebrity, after all, and the city’s “Princess,” as they claim. 

You look a little nervous though, and a part of him just wants to scold Taehyung for leaving you behind, seeing as neither of you looked like you had security with you earlier. But that shouldn’t be his responsibility anymore, he reminds himself. 

“Thanks for the water, by the way,” you speak up. “How much was it?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks again,” you smile shyly. “So, uhm, do you know where the other exit is? I’m kind of lost.”

“Oh, uh… the one close to where the players go out is there,” he cocks his head to the left, towards a hallway behind swinging doors. “I can uh, I can show you where.”

“Ah, that would be great. Did you park close there, too?”

No.

“Yeah,” he lies. “Let’s go before more people see you.”

He opens the door and walks after you. It doesn’t help that the hallway suddenly feels much smaller and closed off because now, Yoongi has to listen to your footsteps and nothing else, since neither one of you chooses to talk. 

What does he say to the woman he broke up with 6 years ago? Maybe he can say something about your recently concluded series. He thought it was really good. Is it weird to ask what your next project is? Perhaps. You probably can’t even tell him. How was it like being the leading lady this time? Fuck, he’s not a talk show host or anything like that. 

He sees the end of the hallway before his mind can come up with another stupid question, and he rushes to the door before you do, catching you by surprise. 

“Just wanted to make sure there’s no one to bother you,” he explains, as you exit the building with questioning eyes. 

“Oh, thanks,” you smile shyly again. 

He’s not used to it. He remembers the way your eyes used to gaze at him constantly, how your smile and laughter were all cheeky and flirty, how the tone of your voice was always so confident, so charming. He thinks that maybe like him, you’re just as surprised and unsure about seeing each other after so long. He doesn’t know what to make of things beyond that.

“Do you have someone to pick you up?” he asks, needing to prepare himself if, as a last resort, he’d need to drive you somewhere.

“Yeah, Tae and I were supposed to ride together but,” you pause, checking your phone for your best friend’s text message, “he rode off with his friends and said he’d meet me at Jungkook’s instead so I’m just waiting for the guys. There’s the—”

Party, Yoongi says in his head.

“___!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts you off. He jogs up to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, unaware of the man in front of you who’s being blocked by a wall. “You ready to go? Tae said he went ahead.”

Yoongi makes his presence known with a low grunt, his eyes pacing from his friend to you. You both look a lot closer than he remembers, and Yoongi’s mind goes to that first time you all met, how Jungkook had announced during their team celebration that the “girl with the yellow scarf on her hair is so pretty” and that he’d wanted to ask you out. Of course, things turned out differently - you weren’t interested in the younger man. But that was years ago. Jungkook has had an impressive professional career and he lives in Seoul. Maybe things have changed for you.

You follow Yoongi’s eyes. Despite many people claiming that he’s difficult to read because of the default unconcerned, almost detached look he has for every situation, you think he’s actually pretty transparent. 

Or maybe that’s just you. You’ve spent enough time with him to know his sound of annoyance and the meaning of his body language. You’ve memorized that pretty face of his at one point that you can tell the slightest parting of his lips and the tiniest drop of his eyes, which could mean that he’s confused, sad, or disappointed. Maybe all.

“Oh, we’re not…” you exclaim, surprising yourself, to the amusement of Namjoon, who suddenly appears next to you. “I mean, Jungkook and I aren’t… a thing.”

You promptly remove the man’s arm from your shoulder and try to decipher Yoongi’s look now. Is it relief? Does he believe you? Does he think it’s silly that you had to clarify that, which you’re wondering why you did?

“Okay,” Yoongi says. 

Perhaps you’re wrong. You can’t tell right now what he’s feeling.

“We just… got to hanging out when I got drafted by the Thunders,” Jungkook now clarifies, which he quickly realizes is maybe making this awkward situation a lot worse. 

You’re Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend after all, and Jungkook had been the one to reach out to you when he moved to Seoul, but not once did he try to pursue you all these years. He respects his captain too much and cares for what you both had, which is why he maintained his friendship with you even after the breakup.  

“That’s nice to know,” Yoongi replies, his tone nonchalant like always.

He’s glad he can keep his cool that well, even if his heart was just about to explode at the thought of you possibly dating his friend. He doesn’t know why he cares, though, as he never really thought much about the so-called code that stated that exes were off-limits to friends. 

He’s just about to turn around when Namjoon calls out. “Min, you’re still going to the party, right?”

Yoongi looks at you, who promptly looks away. Up until 10 minutes ago, he was about 80% sure he would. He didn’t think that being in close proximity to you would make him remember all sorts of things, and that itself is enough for him to run for the hills and avoid you. He won’t claim he did his best to forget about you - he at least tried, and that still counts - but he didn’t expect he’d ever get a chance to be near you, much less talk to you and be in the same place as you. Again. 

But he looks at his friends’ eyes, both pairs unsure yet practically begging him to still go. He remembers these looks, and he swears it’s because he doesn’t want to let both of them down that he battles with the inner part of himself and decides to still go. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with somehow finding out for how long you’re staying, and why you’re here in the first place. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys there,” he replies, turning around now and heading towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot. 

You watch Yoongi walk away, unsure of why your heart is beating as fast as it is. It had been like that since you saw him after hiding from the fans, and even more so when you walked silently in the hallway to head outside. 

You knew you were gonna see him, maybe even at the party, but not in the way you did. And all your confidence at not being bothered or affected with seeing him again melts away. 

You weren’t prepared for how good he’d look, for how concerned he’d be over your safety, and for that hint of disappointment on his face at the thought of you being with Jungkook. Neither were you prepared for that incredibly tiny part of you that wants to know how he’s doing and if he’d managed to piece together the broken parts of himself and his dream that he so adamantly chose over you.

You survive the car ride by glaring at Namjoon every time he starts teasing you about panicking over Yoongi thinking that you were dating Jungkook, while the latter curses as he drives, claiming he survived one of the scariest moments of his life. 

You arrive in Jungkook’s house in half an hour, a nice place he bought for himself because he said that Daegu will always be home for him. The sliding doors to the patio give it a spacious feel, and you see that a couple of his friends had already prepped the space, complete with beer kegs and beer pong tables, the way you remember they always used to party.      

The 3 of you spot Taehyung who greets you, and the 2 men next to you proceed to narrate what happened, to your best friend’s shock and amusement. You also fill all of them in with the first part of the story about Yoongi finding you as you hid away from the crowd.

“How… symbolic,” Namjoon hums. “You meet at a basketball court in Daegu after a game while you were hiding from fans because you’re such a bigtime actress now. I mean, it’s quite ironic. The universe is out to tease you or something.”

You agree, it is. It’s times like this when you wish you didn’t believe in fate and destiny because doing so would just give you false hope that you and Yoongi may be meant for more than just those 2 years together. And you absolutely hate it because you can’t fall into that trap of thinking that you’re meant for a happy ending that includes him. That ship sailed a long time ago - 6 years and about 5 partners later.

But as Yoongi enters the house, his bowed head turning up to search the area before daintily tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you start to think that maybe that ship decided to turn back around and sail towards you once again. He briefly meets your eyes before someone calls out to him, and you’re left to admire him from afar, cute button nose and impeccable side profile and all. 

Taehyung pulls you by the arm and whispers in your ear. “Okay, so what’s our plan?”

“What do you mean, our plan?” You ask, realizing you’ve lost Yoongi as you glance in the direction of where he was, no longer finding him there. “Plan for what?”

“Yoongi, obviously,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Do we avoid him, be civil, pretend you don’t think about him anymore, or act like the past 8 years didn’t happen and we don’t actually know him?”

“None of the above,” you groan. “What kinds of options are those?”

“Decent ones?”

“Nope. You’ve already had a lot to drink and I don’t trust you when you’re drunk.”

“Except you should. This is when I don’t hold back when it comes to you,” Taehyung answers.

“And you hold back otherwise?” You frown. 

“Just when it’s about him. It was tough for a long time. I know sometimes it still is.”

You don’t have the heart to disagree. This man has been your best friend for a decade and he knows how you are, knows which pains of yours you’re willing to talk about and which ones you’d rather hide away. Your acting skills may be good but you know that Taehyung can see behind all the smiles and the detachment and the effort to look okay, and whatever it is he’s thinking, there’s a good chance he might be right. You’ve just never been brave enough to admit them. 

The look of understanding you both share gets disrupted when cheers erupt in the middle of the living room, seeing that Seungkwan had just beaten Jungkook in beer pong. The pro player demands a rematch and the entire house cheers in agreement. Jungkook takes the next game but Seungkwan won’t back down. 

“Let’s do it in pairs,” he challenges. “I take Joon.”

“Fine,” Jungkook says, his game face on, knowing there’s one other person he knows could win this with him. “I take the Captain.”

Cheers erupt once more as people push Yoongi to the center where the rest of the guys are. He shakes his head, seemingly uninterested in partaking in tonight’s festivities but goes anyway after much coaxing from everyone. He then does his handshake with Jungkook to the younger man’s insistence, and you watch Yoongi’s soft, shy smile appear. 

And just like the very first time you saw that, you feel your heart thrum in excitement. There was always something special about it, and back then it was because he rarely did it, but he did it a lot when he was with you. It’s nice to see it during a moment like this - surrounded by his old friends while having fun with them. You’re glad he shows more of it now, and you wonder how many people fell harder for him because of it. 

You watch from the sideline as the Jungkook-Yoongi pair score 4 straight. Seungkwan complains that Namjoon isn’t making any shots, prompting the older man to claim that he’s way better at dunking than shooting tiny balls like they’re jumpers. They eventually lose after all the theatrics but it’s enough to get the guests going, as you find yourself teasing both men as well. 

You remember their house parties being this rowdy and this loud, given all the energy and testosterone that these athletes had so much of. That obviously hasn’t changed, and despite all of them having grown up, looking all mature and much more respectable, the naughtiness remains, especially once they’ve had too much to drink. 

It’s why you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of the guys, asking for a photo with you to show off to their friends and families. 

“I’m showing this to the guys at the office,” Seungkwan announces as he gets your approval over the selfie picture he took of you both. “They’re not gonna believe I went to college with an actress.”

“Uh, I didn’t go to college with you,” you laugh along with the others. “I studied in Seoul.”

“Then how the fuck do we know you?” He exclaims, no doubt drunk out of his mind at this point. You remember him having a short-term memory every time.

“He’s the Captain’s ex, dumbo!” Soon-young reminds him, another one of the younger guys who hasn’t drank as much but was never good at knowing what not to say. “Remember the summer before his final year? She was with us all the time.”

“Oh right. They were inseparable and looked so in love,” Seungkwan giggles, and at this point, the rest of the people just go with what he’s saying. 

Not you though, neither does Yoongi, and neither does Namjoon, who slaps the back of Seungkwan’s head to loud-whisper that the ex-couple in question is right there.

“Shit, did they hear me?” Seungkwan wonders out loud and looks around before sipping his beer. “I meant it though.”

He laughs drunkenly, so do many others. There’s really only a handful of you who aren’t intoxicated, but right now you wish you were. 

“Wait, they’re both here?” Seungkwan recovers, eyes now glassy. 

He gasps when his gaze turns to you and then Yoongi, and he puts his arm over your shoulder and slightly drags you to the right so he could put his arm over Yoongi, too.

“I found them!” Seungkwan squeals, pushing both of you to face him. “Shit, you still look good together.”

“Alright, dude, that’s enough,” Namjoon finally steps in, pulling the inebriated man away. “Sorry,” he turns to you. “Don’t mind anything he said.”

Too late, you want to say, but you release an awkward laugh instead. 

“They haven’t changed since college, huh,” Yoongi says, surprising you. “They still put us on the spot then leave us to deal with the aftermath,” he continues, watching as the group disperses to go drink and chat again. 

You turn towards him and sigh in relief over the small smile he has on. You swear the tension was so thick earlier that you could cut it with a knife, but Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered. He looks calm like he always does, and just like those first few times, you take your cue from him. You try to release the tension from your body and smile. 

“They should be banned from drinking when there are ex-lovers in the building,” you chuckle. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll be apologizing to you like crazy once he’s sober. Wish I could see that.”

“I can’t wait for that, too,” Yoongi hums. 

A wave of silence envelopes you both. The sounds of your friends seem like white noise now, and with the background music on and the man next to you just sipping his drink, it’s oddly comforting. 

You learned long ago that he has this amazing ability to do that - make people around them feel calm. There’s something so reassuring about him that remarks about your past don’t faze him, and now that’s rubbing off on you, as you feel the awkwardness slowly melt away.

You and Yoongi stand by the couch while the world around you continues. You’d stay in this bubble with him if it wasn’t so familiar, only because the familiarity scares you a little. You don’t want to know if anything else feels the same.

“I’m gonna look for Tae,” you say, breaking the silence. 

You only need to look to your left at the sound of someone hooting to find your best friend downing another cup of some concoction, and by the sound of his laugh, you know this is the one that will do it for him. This is his point of no return. Anything he does after is not meant for many people to see; he has an image to protect, after all.

“Alright, that’s my cue,” you say, walking towards him. 

You cup Taehyung’s face in your hands and tell him that the party’s over and you’ll take him home. He argues, but you remind him that he’s a celebrity and that he can’t have drunk pictures of him circulating online. His inebriated mind sort of gets it, and you take him in your arms and start looking around, trying to see which of the guys are the most stable one to drive.

“How are you going home?”

“Uh…” you turn to face Yoongi. “One of… them? Jungkook, Wooz, Soon-young all offered.”

“And they’ve all had a lot to drink,” he replies.

“Who here hasn’t?” You chuckle, eyes still searching the room. You don’t want to ask your safest option, which is the man in front of you. You’re not quite sure how your heart can handle that. 

“Me,” he says so casually. “I just had one bottle.” 

You know what he means, even more when he goes to Taehyung’s side to help you assist your drunk best friend. Yoongi doesn’t say anything else though; he just stands there while waiting for your reply. This is about safety, you remind yourself, and it has nothing to do with suddenly wanting to be in his presence just a little longer.

“Okay,” you reply, knowing he knows what you mean, too.

“Okay.”

All three of you say goodbye to your friends, all of whom give you smug looks, passing up on the teasing now given Yoongi’s displeased face after someone remarks that “mom and dad are taking care of their kid again.” This isn’t a new scene for them, either. Taehyung just tends to have a lot of genuine fun when he’s with his friends; it’s something you relate with after being in the industry you’re in.

You and Yoongi help Taehyung in the backseat where you sit, with your best friend’s head securely on your lap because he’s now complaining of a migraine. Your designated driver starts the car shortly after he checks on both of you. 

“Neither of you took your cars?” He asks.

“Tae did but passed up on driving tonight,” you say. “I would’ve driven, had I known he won’t be able to control himself. I’m still waiting for my requested rental car.”

Yoongi merely hums and focuses on the road while you… well, while you sort of focus on him. Your position behind the passenger seat allows you a view from the side - from how his fingers drum the steering wheel to how he nibbles his lips. His eyes are focused on the road but you can tell he’s focused on both of you, too, with the way he turns to the back whenever Taehyung makes some garbled sound or just to ask you if you’re okay. 

You watched him do this so many times before with you next to him, holding his hand and kissing his cheek at every stoplight. For someone who loves music, he never put the radio on when he drove you. He said it allowed him to focus on you, and that memory isn’t one that you really want to think of right now, especially since it’s silent in the car. You don’t know which ones you’d rather remember, though - the good ones or the bad. You suppose either would hurt regardless, and this wasn’t something that you prepared for. 

You make it to your best friend’s house as you and Yoongi assist him to the gate to Mrs. Kim’s shock. She scolds a barely-awake Taehyung and apologizes profusely to Yoongi, who says she’s happy to see him in their home once again. As Mr. Kim takes his son up to his room, Yoongi turns to you and asks if you need a ride home.

“I’m sleeping over,” you say in a panic. “Someone’s got to take care of his drunk ass.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says, briefly meeting your eyes before nodding towards his car. “I’ll go ahead. It was nice seeing you again, ___.”

They’re simple words that any old friend would tell another after seeing them in years, but somehow they hit you differently. This entire evening hasn’t been a dream or some made up scenario in your head where you meet the man you loved after so long. 

He’s here. With you. Looking at you in a way you’re very unfamiliar with - with a calmness in his eyes and a hint of care and acceptance, as if he’s glad you’re here but that he’s well aware of the years between you, of the years that passed by, of the years that changed you both. 

You don’t respond fast enough because before you know it, he’s turning around, ready to head out the door.

“It was nice seeing you, too, Yoongi,” you say softly. 

But he hears it, stops walking for a while, and then opens the door and walks out. 

You wonder if he’d said something the day you left, would you have stopped and turned around? Or would you have kept walking?  

But thinking about that won’t do you any good, so you turn away as well and head upstairs.

Outside, Yoongi steps on the gas, turns to the next corner, and then stops the car. He clasps his hands together so they’d stop shaking, and he lets himself breathe for the first time tonight. He’s kept his cool long enough, but after everything - the party, the teasing, the car ride - he doesn’t think he can hold the emotions in any longer, and he doesn’t even know what they are. 

Longing? Sadness? Regret? Is it the unspeakable feeling of fear at the thought of you dating one of his friends who might actually be good for you? Is it relief at the idea that letting you go was the best thing that he could’ve ever done for you? Is it confusion over wanting so badly to take you in his arms but not wanting to feel your touch, knowing it would remind him of everything he’s tried to forget? 

Yoongi lays his head on the headrest and takes a breath. You’re so beautiful, as if some light shines on you wherever you go. It’s probably the glow you emit; he’s told you that before but you always said he was just teasing. He sees it even more now. 

But it’s also the crinkle of your eyes when you smile that sweet smile of yours that makes things feel familiar, and because of that, uneasy. It’s that honey sound of your voice; he heard it as you laughed during the party and joked around with everyone. It’s that captivating look you have, the one that says you know something but you want to know more; he felt that look when he entered the house and as he drove you earlier. 

He wonders if you saw past him, past his nonchalance and calm demeanor. You were always so good at that - knowing there was more behind his passiveness, knowing how to get a reaction from him, knowing which buttons to push so he’d open up and let you in. 

He doesn’t know if he should be afraid that you still know how to do it, or if he should revel in it because he’s missed you, more than he could ever say and more than he’d ever care to admit. 

But beyond all that, he’s sure that one of his emotions is happiness. Every time you talked about work and being able to watch yourself on screen - he swears he didn’t eavesdrop but that he just happened to be there - there was that excitement that felt like the continuation from when you used to talk about your big dreams with him. 

You got what you wanted and you worked hard to get to where you are and he knows you’re proud of yourself and that’s all he’s ever wanted. Seeing that smile - he knows. Letting you go was the best thing he’s ever done for you.

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s hoarse voice forces your eyes off the ceiling onto your side where he’s currently hugging his pillow, messy hair and pouty lips on display. 

“Trying to get some rest after I saved your drunk ass last night,” you bitterly respond. “I got to you before any compromising photos or videos were taken. You’re welcome.”

“Hmm, thanks,” he groans. “But uh, why are you here? Didn’t you say you wanted proper rest in your house before seeing your family today?”

“Right, uh… you see. Yoongi drove us here, and then he asked if I wanted a ride home but I kinda panicked and said I’m sleeping over so… Here I am!” You laugh, unconvincingly. “My rental car’s on the way here. I’ll drive to my house and then go to my dad’s.”

“Ugh, you’re so dumb,” he says, sinking into his comforter. You gasp in response. “That was your chance to be alone with him but you didn’t take the offer. We both know you wanted to.”

“Tae, being drunk and not holding anything back doesn’t mean you can just assume things like that,” you respond, sitting up and frowning at him. “I didn’t want to be alone with him, that’s why I’m here!”

“Why didn’t you want to be alone with him?” He answers back.

“Uhm, why would I want to?” You ask incredulously. “Since when was getting in a car alone with an ex ever a good idea?”

“Why? You’re afraid you’d kiss him if you did?”

You scowl at your best friend. “I should’ve left you there drunk with possible penis drawings on your face.”

“Just being honest. It’s not like you’ve never done that with him before,” he shrugs. 

“I hate you.”

“I know. But you’ll love me later on. At least I’m still half asleep.”

You push him awake, the stress heightening now as the previous night plays in your head. 

“Tae! What happened to my hi, goodbye plan?!” You groan. “I was literally just supposed to say hi and then be civil, like, acknowledge his presence but not be affected by it. But then we had some small talk and he drove us home.”

“We all know it was a denial plan,” he huffs. “It was bound to fail.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re being incredibly helpful right now,” you frown again. 

“Fine,” he grumbles, sitting now. “You had small talk, he drove you here. How are those affecting you and why are you making it a big deal?”

“I’m not making it a big deal,” you point out. 

“You kinda are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are because that’s how things started before. And you’re afraid that one small misstep will cause you to fall for him all over again, fast and hard, because that’s how you are when it comes to him.”

“You’re hungover and tired so your judgment is impaired,” you say, crossing your arms. “You remember what happened after all that. I’ll be perpetually grateful that you never pushed me to talk about it unless I was drunk and couldn’t remember things but I was heartbroken, Tae. And then I was numb. It took a while before I started to feel again.”

“I know,” he says, taking you in his arms now as he holds you like a baby - a rare occurrence, as this often happens the other way around. “And I can never fault you for it because even if it was like that summer fling that only happened in the movies, I know you loved him, genuinely and intensely, and a love like that stays with you. But he’s got a good life here, ___, and you’ve got an amazing one in Seoul. You just have to remember why it didn’t work out in the first place and make sure you don’t fall into that trap again. Just… acknowledge that. For your sake. And then do what you need to do so you don’t make the same mistakes again.”

Enveloped in his warmth, you take in your best friend’s words. He may still be hungover and may also be confused but his comfort never seizes, and it’s one of the reasons why you love him dearly. 

“So yeah, good on you I guess for not taking that ride with him. Maybe staying away and keeping your distance might be good,” he adds.

Your silence somehow alarms him, so he nudges you. “It’s a good idea, right?”

“I don’t know. Suddenly I feel like staying away and keeping my distance will let him know that it still affects me. He’ll always know me like that,” you sigh, hugging him tightly for more comfort. “And there’s this part of me that wants to show him that I’m fine, you know?  That even with everything that happened between us, I walked away from it knowing what I deserve, and that’s someone who’ll fight through life with me. He didn’t and that’s on him but he had his reasons, and looking back, maybe he was right. Maybe he had to let me go, and maybe - because I loved him genuinely and intensely - I want to show him that it wasn’t all in vain. And that I’m happy. Even without him.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to him, you know?”

Maybe I want to prove it to myself, you don’t say. There’s a stubbornness in you that doesn’t go away. 

“This isn’t about him, is it?” Taehyung levels his head with you. 

For someone hungover, he still knows you pretty well. 

You just sigh and fall back in his arms. He doesn’t push you. He just hugs you again until you both fall back in bed and he can comfortably curl his body all over you because it’s Taehyung and he likes to do this. 

“Just be careful, alright?” He pleads. 

“You know I also kinda don’t have a choice,” you reply. “It’s a small town and we’re bound to see each other. Jungkook and Namjoon have a game here again in a few weeks and that means another get together.”

“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hum. “Promise me you’ll be by my side whatever happens?”

“Always, you stubborn woman. I’m the one person who’ll never leave you even if you push me away.”

The lunch with your family is how you expect it to go - with your older sisters making some backhanded comments about your fame and how you’ve been “too busy” to even visit, and your father trying to dissolve the tension. He’s at least genuinely curious about how you’ve been, asking if you’re eating well and getting enough rest. Your stepmom raves about your drama series and shares that she cried during the finale.

“Why did he have to go back to his planet?” Garam’s 7-year old asks after your stepmom narrates what happened. 

“His time on earth was up,” you explain. “He finished his mission and he had to leave.”

“But why didn’t he stay if he was happy?” 

“Because he had a responsibility in his home,” you smile. “He wasn’t made for this world.”

“He didn’t have a choice, sweetie,” Garam adds after her daughter comments that it was sad. “That’s understandable. Some people leave because they’re no longer happy with those around them. Or because their dreams are more important than those they supposedly love. Isn’t that sadder?”

“It is. Don’t leave me, Mama,” the little one pouts.

“Oh sweetie, I never will. I don’t leave people that I love,” Garam responds, glancing at you to make a statement. 

You zone out after that, not wanting to engage with your sisters anymore. You play with their kids, though, who get excited when they see you on TV. You don’t want to treat them like you hold a grudge against them even if you do so with their mothers. Your sisters continue to do that with you - resent you when it’s your mom they’re really angry at for leaving your already unhappy family after she got her dream job in Paris. You were never angry though but you did sort of follow in her footsteps, and your sisters hated you even more because of that. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” Your father asks, the hope in his eyes hurting you. 

Things weren’t going well with your parents for a while, giving your mom more reason to leave, but you always wished that he had done more for you to feel loved in the home that started to become toxic after it fell apart, but you suppose he was just trying to heal his own broken heart after his wife left. It felt like your sisters weren’t going to forgive you when you decided to leave yourself, and he just let you walk away without making sure you knew he still loved you despite your decision. 

He’s moved on now, though, and happy with someone who prioritizes him and his needs. But too much time and distance can pull people apart - you can see them without the desire of being with them. That’s the reality with you and him now and there’s not much you can do about it. 

“No, I’ve got other plans,” you respond, glancing at your sisters who return your look with bitterness. “I’ll see you at grandpa’s tomorrow.”

You drive around for half an hour with no destination in mind. It’s nice to see how much this place has changed and discover which parts of it still feel the same. 

You pass by an antique shop - the antique shop,  a generations-old family-run store that used to be the hub of imported furniture that the townspeople once flocked to. It’s now a speciality store that still sells one-of-a-kind items but it also refurbishes old pieces. You see a poster on the window that’s promoting woodworking workshops. You won’t be surprised to find out whose idea that was.

A man briefly exits, and you stop near the front, wanting to just take it in. He’s got more gray hair now and walks a little slower but he looks just like you remembered - soft crinkled eyes, comforting smile, a look that you know all too well. You decide to enter, as you’re desperate for something - anything - that feels more like home than the one you just came from. 

“May I help you?” The man asks.

“A greeting and a hug would do,” you look up at him and smile.

“___?!” He gasps, walking outside the counter to get closer to you. “Is that really you, my dear?”

“Yes it is, Mr. Min,” you smile, returning the hug that you requested. “Just passing by my favorite antique shop in town. How are you doing?”

“Great! Business is stable and I’ve still got a lot of fight in me to continue,” he chuckles. “How about you? The big city treating you good?”

“It is,” you reply. “I think I’m doing quite okay there.”

“Ah, well it should be treating you amazingly. That’s what you deserve.”

You continue the conversation, with you asking about his latest projects and him, talking about his furniture and wood like his children, pride laced in his voice every time. He asks you about your latest series and if you’ve met his favorite actors and you indulge him. His laughter is music to your ears. You remember spending time here where he worked on his pieces while you talked about your favorite movies.

“Does my son know you’re here?” He asks after a beat of silence. 

“He does. I saw him last night. He looks well.”

“He does, doesn’t he? It took a while but he’s doing much better than before - smiling, joking around, helping me at the shop, talking about basketball again. It’s nice to see.”

The words hit you in ways you didn’t expect. Breaking up with Yoongi was tough to get over. Those last few months had been incredibly hard and so many times you thought that maybe if you’d been more patient, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. 

But you remember how during those last days with him, he’d lost the glimmer in his eyes and the softness of his smile. Not even you could bring those back. His passion for things just dwindled; he stopped wanting more, stopped wanting you, stopped thinking that things could still work out for him after what he suffered through. 

You’d kept in touch with Namjoon and Jungkook at their insistence, and they’d been the one to update you on how Yoongi was doing. Not a lot of details but just general things like the jobs he took and that he was keeping himself busy and that he was trying to get back on the court. It wasn’t with unpleasant stories, though - you learned about his new girlfriend from them, and that he didn’t play basketball for awhile, and that during the toughest days, he considered giving it up altogether. 

You knew he’d done well. You learned that from the guys, too. But hearing it from his father is different; you can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for Mr. Min to see his son start to change from what he used to be. But you know that as the good father that he is, he made sure that Yoongi knew he wasn’t alone. 

“And that’s good to hear,” you say. “Yoongi deserves all the happiness this world can give. I’m glad that he’s found his joy in basketball again it seems. And that he found it here.”

“He has, but I guess something will always be missing. He’s a lot better but he’s not the same. A parent would know, you know? The flame doesn’t shine as bright,” Mr. Min answers, the tinge of sadness in his eyes hurting you a little. 

But you just nod. His words seem to mean more but you don’t want to know what it is. 

“Dad, what did you want me to look at?”

Yoongi’s voice echoes in the shop and you can’t help but turn to him who’s just entered and looks as shocked as his father was earlier. 

You have a soft smile on, and Mr. Min knows not to intervene. 

“Oh, nothing,” he says, thinking that the new wood he acquired could wait. “Just watch over the counter for me while I check something inside, alright Son?”

He doesn’t let the younger man answer and just heads to the back, leaving you and Yoongi alone. He walks closer but keeps his distance. It’s enough for you to appreciate the softness of his face, though. His presence had always been reassuring; you see him twice and you’ve felt more comfort with him than you have in months. You don’t know how he does it, but that shouldn’t surprise you anymore. This isn’t the first time anyway. 

“Is Taehyung alright?” He breaks the silence. 

“Recovering, but more from his parents giving him shit for drinking too much,” you chuckle. “He got an earful and Mrs. Kim said she won’t let him in the house next time he gets that drunk. He’s doing chores as punishment.”

“Ah, well it’s been a while. It was nice to spend time with everyone again.”

“It was,” you smile now. 

“And you? Are you okay?” He asks, sincerity laced in his low voice.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s the hesitant nod and the way your eyes look at anything but him, and he knows that whatever happened after last night is something you want to forget or seek comfort for. So he asks.

“So what made you come here? To the shop, I mean.”

“I was driving around. It didn’t register to me right away that I was in the area,” you respond. “And this place was always so calming for me, you know? The smell of wood, your dad’s stories…” 

You. 

“So I thought I’d come in”, you continue. “He hasn’t changed. It’s nice to see him.”

Yoongi always wondered what parts of you remained the same and which parts didn’t. 

Perhaps the playfulness tempered a bit. You seem a little more anxious than he remembers, too. There’s this sophistication about you that was always too good for this small town, and he sees that even more now. Your smile is still soft but it isn’t as bright. He won’t deny that it still makes his heart race, though. 

You have a habit of going somewhere familiar to seek comfort. You always looked for it in places, he noticed - in that dingy convenience store near your school, in your town’s secondhand bookstore even if you don’t like reading, in the Opera House where you and your mom used to go to. Yoongi learns now that that hasn’t changed at all. You’re in his dad’s store, a place you always wanted to go to after spending time with your family, and he supposes that’s where you came from.

He doesn’t know if he’s still someone you find comfort in and he doesn’t know if you even want to spend time with him after all these years, but he doesn’t have the heart to just let you walk out of here not knowing if you’re truly okay. 

He hated leaving you alone then when things weren’t good. You didn’t always want to talk but you said once that just hearing him breathing on the other end of the phone or just having his hand over yours made you feel better. He may not be the right person now but he’s still someone, and that’s always better than no one.

You eye the door, ready to leave, but his call of your name prompts you to look back at him.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” He asks.

“No, not really,” you reply. 

“Would you like to grab some coffee?”

The words are familiar. You hate that you remember everything about it.

“Just coffee?” You ask, almost teasingly.

He chuckles softly and meets your eyes, and somehow a part of you thinks that you shouldn’t do this. But you’re glad he asked in the first place.

“Yes, ___. Just coffee.”

Series Masterlist

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#yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #bts suga #yoongi fanfiction #exes to lovers #exes au

[thisonehere]

hello, ello !! can i pretty please request for some childhood headcanons of the Lin Kuei Brothers? (Bi-Han, Kuai Liang & Tomas.) Fluff, of course !!! Thankies !!

Childhood drama and nightmares

A/n: Omg, this sounds so cute!!! 🥺 I hope you don't mind, I added a little bit of angst for Tomas's part, give the fact that his family was murdered, I thought that might've needed to be addressed first before got to the fluffy stuff. Okay, that all❤️

Tags: Mk1, MK AU, fluff, request

C/w: none.

Bi-Han

He didn't like you. That's at least what he wanted you to think. He was a cold and harsh person even when he was a child. A lot of pressure was put at such a young age.

The Lin Kuei were harsh in raising it's warriors, it was even harder to him than ks to the fact that he was was to inherit the role of Grandmaster some day. This caused him to develop quite a hard shell.

He had a soft side, but that was reserved for his brother, Kuai, and sometimes Tomas, it really depended on how he felt that day. He was scared to share this with anyone else, he thought he was able seen as weak and he was not weak.

So he never hesitated to put others down and hurt them with his words. You, unfortunately, were one of them.

Everyday without fail Bi-Han would find a way to put you down, either by mocking you or berating, whatever would work to hurt you.

But truthfully, Bi-Han admired you. You were kind, everyone loved you, no one judged you, he envied that. He tried to ignore your charming nature, but your warm disposition slowly melted away his icy cold shell.

He sees how good you and his brother get along and he gets jealous. He wants that, he wants to be able to talk to you the way he does, be near you the way he does, male you laugh the way he does.

You notice the strange way he looks at you two whenever you and Kuai are together. Like he can't seem to make up his mind on whether he wants to join in or attack Kuai. When you inquire about that then get gets very defensive.

He got very defensive a lot of times around you a lot of times. You were inching in closer into his heart and that scarf him. You made a part of him melt, you grew on him, he...liked you. But don't let anyone know he feels this way or he'll break your face!

Kuai Liang

The most loved of the Lin Kuei, the golden boy. Kuai Liang had a light around him that made people just adore him. You were different. If you didn't like him before, he charmed you with a bright smile and friendly attitude.

Though the Lin Kuei were harsh on him, he never lost his smile. You loved his smile. Who wouldn't love his smile? (probably Bi-Han)

You were close, Kaoi always macking sure you were seen, that you included even when the other kids didn't want you to be. He stuck for you many times against bullies. Either he'd use his family name to intimidate them or just beat them up for you.

You always appreciated how much he looked out for you. Though you couldn't help but wonder whether they did it because he was just a good soul or because he might have likd you.

Kuai always spooked you with love so you couldn't tell if it was out of friendship or some stupid little childhood crush he has done you. You couldn't tell. But if Kuai did have a crush on you, he'd tell you...right?

Anyway, Kuai was always thoughtful when it came to you. He'd bring you smack he remembered you said you liked, give his toys to you even though he really liked them, eyc. He really liked you, so he was willing to go the extra mile for you.

You two would talk about what you'd do when you were grown up. Kuai didn't exactly do what he wanted to be, but he did know that he wanted dall four of you to be together and friends for ever. And that would surely happen, right?

...right?

Tomas

A shy kid and an outsider, Tomas didn't fit in much. Thanks to the death of his mother and sister, Tomas couldn't be a normal kid. He was too traumatized to ever act normally again. That's why you and Kuai always made an effort to be there for him.

He was quiet and always soft to the corner. Whenever he did speak it was in a soft spoken voice. Unsure of itself with every word. He was so fragile that sometimes you were worried he'd be at the break of tears.

Tomas was so hard to be consoled when he broke down. Too scared to let someone get that close to him else they'd be taken away from his just like his family.

But somehow, you always managed to calm him down. You had that special touch, you were able to get to him where many others failed. He'd cry in your arms and he'd feel better afterwards. You'd find a way to cheer him up, either by telling a joke, reminiscing an old story,or just holding him.

You were with him most of the time. Bi-Han was cold to you, Kuai and you were close, but you and Kuai just seemed to have clicked much more compared to him. But that's okay, the three of you still hung out, Kuai led while you two followed.

Whenever Toma was bullied you'd be the first to rise to his defense. Threatening to do terrible things to them if they didn't leave Tomas alone. You would especially be very violently defensive if it was Bi-Han, what was his problem anyway?

There was a chance that you two liked each other. You always looked at each other's sort of lovey dovey stare. But this way slept between the two of you, if you did have feelings for each other, none of you spoke up so no one knew. But one thing was known: you'd be together till the end.

#mk1 #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mk x reader #mk fanfic #mk x y/n #kombat kids #bi han #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #sub zero x reader #kuai liang scorpion #kuai liang #kuai liang x reader #mk scorpion #mk tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada x reader #mk smoke #lin kuei #childhood #fluff #mortal kombat fanfiction #fanfiction #request

[sheepiemc]

your touch (a craving)

part 2: arm (first)

You were on Diavolo’s mind again. 

This seemed to be happening more often than not these days, especially after that infamous bus ride a few weeks before. The warmth of your thigh on his still made him crazy whenever he thought about it. The strength of his willpower was astounding; how he didn’t end up just pulling you onto his lap because of that touch was beyond mortal comprehension. Such were dangerous thoughts for the future King of the Devildom.

Something you had said that day kept bringing him back to that conversation. Somehow, you got on the topic of Devildom flora and he mentioned the Flowers of the Abyss in the school garden would soon be in bloom. You said you hadn’t gotten to explore the gardens much, as it wasn’t a part of the very brief tour you got from Mammon that very first day. 

“We’ll need to rectify that immediately,” he remembered himself saying, leaning ever so closer - just as you did to him earlier on the bus. 

You tilted your head as if you were surprised by the prince's sudden boldness. “I would really appreciate that, Diavolo. Thank you.” 

The way your eyes brightened with your genuine smile made his heart soar; he'd been riding that high ever since. And he definitely clocked you dropping the honorific in his name. He had never been so excited to be disrespected (something to unpack at a later time). 

And so, it was time to fulfill his promise. 

He had finally cleared up his schedule and worked some magic behind the scenes to make sure you had the same time off. He texted you as soon as he was done to ask if you were available for the tour (even though he already knew the answer). You texted back almost immediately that yes, you were free and you would like to cash that rain check now. 

Diavolo looked out the window. It wasn't raining. 

You texted back, “I'll meet you at the garden gate.” 

He tried to control his excited gait as he made his way to the garden from the student council office, but if anyone saw how fast he was hustling through the halls, they would know something was up. 

Approaching the garden gate, he stopped when he saw you - close enough to observe but far enough away for you not to notice him yet. You were looking away from him, leaning against the fence that surrounded the perimeter of the garden. 

He admired the way your hair looked in the eternal Devildom starlight, though it made him wonder what it looked like in your natural environment. What did it look like in the sun? Did it feel as soft as it looked? 

You looked down at your phone and he could see your face in profile. He leaned against the fence now too, gently enough so as to not alert you to his presence. He wanted to memorize that profile, to become so familiar with it that he would be able to recognize you by its shadow. You smiled so fondly at whatever you found on your phone, and it made Diavolo's chest tighten. It was a stunning sight, to be sure - but he felt a sting of envy that he wasn't the reason for that smile.

“MC!” He waved and you looked at him, only a little bit startled.

“Hello, Lord Diavolo.” You put your phone away and turned to him, smiling wider.

He stopped short at the formality, leaving a respectable distance between you. Of course you would use his title here, in the hallowed halls of his very own institution, but that didn't make the blow land any softer. 

He schooled his features into his “jovial prince indulging another of his whims” mask and asked, “Are you ready for your first official tour of our gardens? I can't believe it took this long for you to get to see them. We'll have to fix that for the next group of exchange students we bring in.” 

“Yes, well,” your smile faltered infinitesimally, so minutely, anyone else might not have seen a difference. But Diavolo did. Demon that he was, he felt slightly vindicated but it didn't make him feel any better. In fact, it only reminded him that your stay here was temporary. “I'm glad you're the one that gets to show me, My Lord .” 

He was startled by the emphasis on his title. Could you really see right through him? He almost shuddered at the thought before fully turning away from you to open the gate, allowing you to walk inside. “It's a huge garden and we have much to see so let's get on then, shall we?” 

You walked past him, your smile ever so slightly morphing into a smirk. Diavolo released a breath he didn't realize he was holding and closed the gate behind him. 

You wound the serpentine trails of the garden at a decidedly uncomfortable distance. Diavolo kept you at more than arm's length, a distance he maintained every time you stepped a little bit closer. He named every interesting plant you pointed out because what else is a prince to do for millennia if not memorize every plant name in his domain? 

When you arrived at the section affectionately called “the flower fields”, you couldn't hold in your enthusiasm for all the strange, beautiful, and entirely unfamiliar flowers that populated this part of the garden. Your glittering expression softened Diavolo’s heart, reminding him why he chose to bring you here in the first place. 

“Those would be the Flowers of the Abyss.” He gestured to some flowers with dark purple petals with a black gradient and blood-red stamens, a combination you had certainly never seen on any flower on earth. 

“Can I touch them?” you asked. 

“Smart of you to ask,” he smiled. “If you wish.” 

He watched you, standing on the other side of the trail, as you tentatively reached out for the plant, rubbing its petal between your fingers. Your lips parted in a near-silent gasp. Diavolo gasped too, albeit involuntarily, his attention oscillating between your fingers and your face. 

“It's so soft,” you whispered reverently as you gently cupped the flower in both hands. You leaned in, bringing your face closer to the bloom. Diavolo swallowed hard. Was he really getting jealous of a flower? In trying to feel the petals against your cheek, you managed to get some pollen on the corner of your mouth. “And they smell delightful,” you sighed, standing up straight, and releasing the flower from your grasp. 

“MC, you have-” he couldn't finish the sentence, so he only vaguely gestured to his mouth, wishing he could get it off you himself. 

“Oh,” you wiped it off with your thumb and looked at it quickly before sticking your thumb in your mouth. “Mmm, sweet, too.” 

At that, Diavolo had to look away or else he might end up doing something he would certainly regret. That's when he noticed all the Hell Jasmine growing on his side of the trail. Stepping away from them, Diavolo cleared his throat, saying, “Yes, well, there is still more garden to get to so let's-” 

“Of course,” you interrupted, “I know you're very busy, you must have something more important to attend to today.” 

Anyone else listening to you might have taken that statement at face value, as someone being considerate of a prince’s schedule. But if you could read him, then he could read you just as well. 

He heard the subtle hurt. 

And it crushed him. 

“That's not-” he started. 

That's when time slowed down. As Diavolo approached you to try to assure you that you had his full attention, you stepped toward him as well. What you didn't see was the creeping vine that caught your foot as you stepped away. 

You were falling. 

You reached out for something - anything - to steady yourself, to catch yourself before you hit the ground. That something just happened to be Diavolo. His arm to be exact. The desperate grip short-circuited his brain and all he could think was please, don't let go. Long dormant synapses were firing in his brain and his eyes were only focused on where you two were touching. When you looked up at him, you realized just how close your faces were. You could've been standing there for an eternity, or only a few seconds - the Prince was absolutely transfixed.

You could've been standing there for an eternity, or only a few seconds. “You saved me, Diavolo. Thank you. I almost got your uniform dirty,” you joked in an attempt to snap him back to reality. 

He looked at you. 

You looked back at him. 

“Yes, well,” he said, his voice a little strained, “we couldn't have that now, could we?”

You nodded and straightened out, releasing his arm at the same time. He mirrored your posture and placed his hands behind his back, out of sight, so you could not see the vice grip he had on the arm you were just holding. “Shall we continue the tour? We haven't even seen the restricted part of the garden yet.” 

You smiled at him again, “I would love nothing more.” 

And you walked side by side with only a few inches between you.

(next)

A/N: Hell Jasmine is a pale blue, glowing flower with a sweet aroma. Breathing in its fumes makes demons extremely needy and affection-craving. (Obey Me Wiki)

#obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #i couldnt figure out how to make a fake chat screenshot easily so just the stickers are all y'all get #originally posted on ao3 #OP #fic

[blueraineshadows]

A request if I may?

f!mc + Ominis fluffy/angst

I dont know if you're familiar with Isaac Cooper in the game, but according to all the npc voice lines about him around Hogwarts, he's A star quidditch player whos very popular and handsome. Lots of npcs seem to gush about him. You can actually find his house near seb's in feldcroft! He seems to be in Gryffindor.

Anyway, for the purpose of this, Im picturing him being a total ladies man who's very full of himself and not used to rejection. Can you write about him relentlessly perusing MC but she always shuts him down (much to Ominis' amusement, he feels a bit insecure) like he keeps interrupting her study sessions with Omi and it gets to the point where she has enough and yells at him in class, or in the great hall, somewhere public where everyone witnesses it lol. Afterword, not wanting this to continue, omi hears issac approaching them AGAIN, he's fed up and he suddenly pulls MC into a kiss to deter him. MC reciprocates. They get together finally, then Isaac buggers off for good lol.

I love this request! 😀 💜 Also, I know the house you mean in Feldcroft, but I hadn't made the connection - love that!

Ominis Gaunt x F!MC 💚

"Oh, they are lovely, MC! Who are they from?" Poppy asked. She leant forward to sniff the little bunch of red roses that were sitting on the table in front of MC. There were curled red and gold ribbons tied around the thorn-free stems, a most thoughtful gift for a Gryffindor.

MC stared at the flowers that had arrived over breakfast, her cheeks a lovely pink. She had absolutely no idea who they were from. The card simply read, 'Hero of Hogwarts, you have my heart.'

Poppy read the little card and sighed. "Oh, it's so romantic."

"But, I have no idea who sent them! It's not even Valentine's Day," MC said.

"Clearly, you have an admirer, MC," Poppy said. She leant in with a smile. "Enjoy it!"

MC spent the rest of the day suspiciously eyeing any boy who came near her, wondering who had sent such lovely flowers.

The next morning, there was a cute poem waiting for her, describing how beautiful she was. MC folded the parchment quickly, blushing, her eyes scanning the hall. Who was this?

....*....

Ominis tapped his quill thoughtfully against his lips, his study books open on the library table, but his mind was very much elsewhere. Beside him, he could feel the reassuring presence of MC, her delicate scent a familiar comfort, and the occasional brush of her arm against his an exquisite torture.

He was fuming, quietly seething. Every day this week, MC had been receiving beautiful gifts from a secret admirer. Envy slithered in his belly. They were just the kind of gifts that he would himself send, but he was apparently an utter coward, because he had done no such thing. His fear of her rejection had made him hide his affection for MC, but now some usurper was muscling in on his most favourite girl. It irritated him no end, especially when he didnt know who this wretched cad was.

"Are you quite alright, Ominis?" MC asked. "You look like you're about to snap that quill in two."

He attempted to relax his tense muscles and put down his quill. "Apologies, MC, I was miles away," he said. "I didn't sleep so well is all, not too worry."

He heard her little sigh of concern, and then her hand was clasping his. "My poor Omi," she said. She leant in a little closer. "We have History of Magic this afternoon, feel free to use my shoulder as a pillow if you need a nap. I won't disturb you."

Oh, how he loved her! She knew just the right things to say to lift his spirits. He smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. "What would I do without you, MC?"

....*....

The breeze was brisk but the sky clear as the Gryffindor Quidditch team took part in practise. MC was seated in the stands, eyes on the sky, watching as her friends Natty and Garreth zoomed to and fro. She had considered signing up for the team, but had found it difficult to find the time. Being in 7th year, there was so much studying to do and she wanted to concentrate on that.

As practise was coming to an end, the players were gathering on the ground, and MC wandered over to speak with Natty. Footsteps fell in beside her and she looked up into the very handsome face of Isaac Cooper. Immediately MC blushed, a very natural reaction around the Quidditch star chaser. He was tall, athletic, his smile bordering on beautiful. There was not a soul who could fail to falter in their steps when he bestowed that smile on you.

Unfortunately, he knew it. He had a trail of broken hearts behind him, and no doubt would continue to collect them for the foreseeable future. Whilst he was most handsome and charming, MC didn't really see herself becoming the latest notch on his broomstick.

"Hello, MC," he greeted, warmly. "It's great to see you here today. You didn't fancy joining us for a little practise? I hear you are an excellent flyer, I wouldn't mind getting to see that."

Her lips parted a little as she looked up at him. Her blush deepened, much to her chagrin. "Oh, well, I did consider it, but decided not to in the end," she said.

His face slipped into one of disappointment, and she felt a twinge of regret. Despite herself, she was slipping under his charm.

"That's a real shame," he said. He dared to lean a little closer. "Although, I bet you look rather fetching in Quidditch kit. You might be too much of a distraction for me."

His wink was ridiculously charming, and then he was gone, a sexy smirk on his lips as he marched off to join the others. MC tugged at her collar, and swallowed. Had he just openly flirted with her? Flustered beyond belief, she hurried for Natty, annoyed with herself for letting him get to her so.

....*....

MC gathered her Charms text book and notes, packing up to leave class. She was about to join Ominis, her usual walking partner on the way to lunch, when a hand caught her elbow. She looked up into Issac's sparkling eyes, a little gasp leaving her lips.

He smiled. "May I walk you to lunch?"

MC's eyes widened. "Oh, I... I usually walk with Ominis," she said.

She glanced across at her Slytherin friend and noticed he had paused, listening. She felt a blush stain her cheeks. Not because of Isaac, but because she felt her heart squeeze at the delicate turn of Ominis' head, the disappointment gathering around his mouth.

Isaac followed her gaze, a slight frown creasing his perfect brow. "Ah, I see," he said. He sighed, a sad little look on his face. He put his hand to his heart. "I would be most honoured if you did walk with me, MC, but seeing as you already have arrangements, perhaps you will do me the honour another time."

MC stood there, flushed and amazed, as Issac tucked a stand of hair behind her ear with a soft smile and left the class.

Ominis appeared at her side. "I hope you are not falling for his little tricks," he hissed. MC looked at him, eyebrows lifting at the tense way he held his jaw. "At least we know who has been trying to buy your affection with his little gifts now."

Realisation struck her like a bludger. "Oh goodness," she said. "Do you think so?"

Ominis took her arm in his, a little possessively, and MC felt a little tingle of warmth spread through her. "Come, MC," he said, firmly. "I will escort you to lunch. You may even sit with me at the Slytherin table if you wish."

Her heart lifted. "I would love to."

....*....

Ominis was cold with fury now. That pesky Gryffindor chaser would not stop hounding MC. He was there, constantly, any excuse to speak to her. He knew he was sneaking little touches as well, Sebastian had told him so. Ominis was so twisted up with envy, he was especially snippy lately. He couldn't help it.

He was no star Chaser, he was not athletic in the slightest, he couldn't even see MC, he had to rely on how others spoke about her beauty. He knew looks weren't the end of it all, he knew how beautiful she was in other ways, his heart was consumed by it. But he did feel at a disadvantage.

He could not imagine that she would feel the same way for him as he did for her, despite all the loving gestures she bestowed upon him. He harboured a precious, secret hope that she must hold some kind of affection for him. But found it hard to believe that it would equal the exciting charm of a handsome Quidditch player. Especially one who was dead set on wooing her.

Ominis walked at her side, a little closer than usual, and he heard her exasperated sigh. He put his hand on her lower back. "What is it?"

He felt her lean closer to speak quietly. "That blasted Isaac," she muttered. Ominis couldn't help his smirk of pleasure at her choice of words. "He has been pestering me all morning, and I am getting rather tired to tell you the truth. How many times must I decline him before he takes the hint?"

"Would you like me to hex him, MC? It would be my pleasure," Ominis said. He had not meant the words to sound so dark, it was supposed to be a joke. But they had slid from his lips with a vicious undertone, cold and cruel. He heard her swift intake of breath and soothed her with a gentle stroke of his hand up her back. "Only joking, of course. But I could have a word, if it would make you feel better."

"Erm, thank you, Ominis," she said, hastily. "But, I can handle myself. No need to worry."

....*....

MC wrote her study notes, neat and careful as always, and kept stealing little glances towards Ominis. She had been fidgeting and musing over his offer to hex Isaac on her behalf. He had sounded utterly terrifying if she was honest, his cold cruelty a trait of his blood no doubt, and yet, she had been fighting against an inferno of discomfort in her nether regions ever since.

Who knew? Having a man behave in such a possessive and protective way toward her had her rather flustered. Perhaps because it was Ominis. She would be a liar if she said she didn't find him attractive. Now she was wondering if he felt the same way. Intriguing to say the least.

She glanced around the library, a little hot under the collar. It was the most inappropriate place to be harbouring such blazing ideas about her Slytherin friend.

Then Isaac appeared, strutting down the aisles, adoring faces worshipping him as he passed tables of various year groups studying. MC felt her desires disappear under a bucket of icy dread as his gaze spotted her. He made his way over.

"MC, how lovely to see you," he said. He saw Ominis and frowned and gave him a cool, curt greeting. MC felt her hackles rise. Isaac leant on the table, bestowing his most charming smile her way. "I'm glad I ran into you, I was hoping that perhaps you would like to meet up later? Maybe we could head down to the Quidditch pitch and you can show me some of your moves?"

He had implied her flying skills perhaps, but the look in his eyes was far more suggestive than a quick zoom around on a broom. His eyes dropped to her lips, his gaze sultry, before lifting to meet her eyes again. Oh, she could see how girls had fallen prey to his charm. He was very good.

She felt Ominis stiffen beside her, and a little sliver of fear tickled down her spine. Would he hex Isaac, right here, in the library? She did not want him to get into trouble on her account. Also, she had been perfectly correct in her statement of her own abilities. She could handle herself.

She fixed Isaac with a stern look. "No thank you, Isaac," she said coldly. "I do not wish to 'show you my moves'. From what I understand, you have had far too many girls showing you moves under the Quidditch stands, and I am not another notch for your overly rated broomstick! Now, please, I am trying to study, if you wouldn't mind."

Now, libraries are usually quiet, but now you could have heard a pin drop. Her voice had carried across the room, students pausing to listen to her little rant. MC suddenly realised this and almost shrank in her seat, but forced herself to keep her back straight, and her face stern.

Isaac looked rather taken aback, but he recovered quickly. If anything, his smile was more charming than ever. His eyes blazed. "My, my, MC, you are quite the fire cracker," he grinned. "Forgive me, I will leave you to your studies."

As he walked away MC felt Ominis lean against her to speak quietly into her ear. "Do you think he got the hint this time?"

MC shook her head. "No, Ominis," she said with a sigh. "If you could have seen the look on his face...dammit, I think I just made him all the more determined."

....*....

Ominis was making it a point to be wherever MC was at every given opportunity. Sebastian was more than happy to assist, and even started to warn MC when Isaac was on the prowl.

All of this had got Ominis rather worked up, his adoration of MC had reached new levels, and he was on the brink of plucking up the courage to do something about it. He just needed to find the right time.

As it happened, the right time was thrown at him, completely unplanned and very high risk.

He was with MC, chatting quite happily out in the grounds. It was a lovely day, and Sebastian had joined them.

"Oh no, look out," Sebastian murmured. "One Isaac Cooper heading right this way. He looks rather determined. He's got balls coming over with us two here with you MC, I will give him that."

MC clicked her tongue and sighed. "Oh, for Merlin's sake."

Ominis really was absolutely done with this whole thing. Going purely on instinct, he reached out a hand and found MC's arm, he heard her little gasp as he quickly brushed upwards to her shoulder.

"Ominis..." She gasped.

His hand slid to her neck to cup her face and he went for it. He guided her forward and planted a kiss right where he hoped her mouth would be. He missed, sadly. Catching her lips at the corner, his nose brushing up against her soft cheek.

He heard Sebastian's delighted burst of laughter, MC was breathing so fast, her hands fluttering near his face, and he hoped he hadn't made a first class fool of himself. But then her gentle hands took hold of his face, and she adjusted her mouth to seal her lips firmly over his, returning his kiss.

So, this is what heaven must feel like, he mused.

When their lips parted, he could feel the heat in his cheeks, and she brushed her fingers lightly over them. "Well, that was a lovely surprise," she said, softly.

"More like about bloody time," Sebastian quipped.

"What about Isaac, has he buggered off yet?" Ominis asked.

"Oh, he is definitely not coming over here now," Sebastian said.

"Is that why you kissed me?" MC asked. She sounded disappointed. "You just wanted to scare Issac off?"

Ominis flushed a brilliant red. "Well, yes...and no," he said. He scowled, his jealousy getting the better of him. "The thought of that womanising leech laying a finger on you makes me want to do very bad things, MC. Forgive me, but I could not abide one more moment of it. The only man who gets to lay his fingers on you, is me."

And with that, he reached to find her hand. She took it, linking her fingers with his.

"Well, alright then," she said. He could hear the smile in her voice. Then her warmth was close, very close, and he shivered as her mouth breathed softly against his ear. "But only if you promise me more of those kisses."

His smile was very smug and he didn't care. He had what he wanted. "Now that, I am more than happy to do."

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x f!mc #blueraineshadows #askblueraine #blueraine requests

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Leona, Vil, Azul, Jade, Floyd

Using half snow leopard fae, since growing up they know her secret being a half fae and what's more a mix breed along with her insecurity for being magically weak even being with

Fully knowing she been researching of why she is magically weak in the first place, until they made her laugh in pure happiness of a simple gesture they did that she wasn't aware that the plants around them went to full bloom and the surrounding became warm as if it's spring as she smiled at them and said " despite you being bit stubborn and a goof, you seem to make me feel happy love "

Bonus what will Malleus be when he witnessed that happened? Just out of curiosity

Make Me Laugh | Snow Leopard Crewel Daughter Reader x Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Well for one it isn’t particularly a secret 

Its just that you’ve shown interest in it now that you’ve matured

But that has been squashed and sullied by the horrid Diasomnia group

She has no insecurity, so she says 

She has no pain, so she says 

And she’s not exactly sharing with anybody 

Even her childhood friends harem

Anything known about your emotions is subtext

And even then its buried under your…heavy personality

“You want me to laugh? Hmmm then perhaps if you poisoned that student with an herb that transforms his luscious locks into prickly spines, I’d laugh.”

Her joy is birthed at the suffering of her enemies

Or those beneath her

Or Crowley

Honestly anyone’s pain is her serotonin:

Leona Kingscholar

Delivers that if he feels like it

He delights in your laughter no matter how crewel it can be 

But he also enjoys you snide remarks as you complain about whatever

He doesn’t care about your fae heritage or your power level

You’re just his (Y/n)

And he knows best how to tell you to stop 

When you’re boiling with rage

“Take a breather, its not as though the truth is leaving anytime soon.”

“What do you mean by that?!”

“Your DNA (Y/n) its not the end of the world as long as you’re here so relax. Better yet sleep.”

And if you need him to scar a couple kids its worth your laughter

Vil Schoenheit

“That’s just like you,(Y/n). Well we are having a dance class soon surely you’ll be pleased to put your input.”

If he’s the queen of vanity and beauty, your the king of crewelty 

He doesn’t mind just letting you run amok 

Especially if it keeps his underlings keeping away from you

And your power means nothing to him

And it shouldn’t to you

Since you’re almost as good at potion-making as him

“Have you’re fun. It is the tax of a king as crewel as you.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Is at his wit’s end

He can never match your lengths in creativity when it comes to igniting your laughter

Though sometimes his attempts make you laugh

He wonders if you had his powers 

How much more dastardly your contracts would be

He envies and admires that about you

But where you two relate most is that insecurity

Though he may stutter he’s the first tell you he loves all of you

And that he’s willing to conquer the whole world for you

“You’re such a romantic.”

“...D-do you still want that contract to have the tripping clause?”

“Hahaha yeah!”

Jade Leech

One of few who can make you laugh

Through orchestrated planning and scheming 

He can be the one to provide the event that will lift any spirits

He does it often

If only to get praise or the gift of your laughter

“I’m glad that was to your liking but how could you pin me as the culprit?”

“Obviously it has your signature touch!” 

To you he’s the comedian of the century 

And he usually can match your levels of entertainment

Which will be a perfect distraction while he eliminates all your self-doubt

Floyd Leech

Is more often then not riling you up 

Enjoying the aftermath of whatever pent up anger your releasing

But you?

Stressed out or worried?

“Ew lame princess leopard seal are you sad?!”

“What?! I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU INTO SU–”

“That’s better.”

He’d sooner rile you up than make you laugh

But sometimes you do laugh

And it makes him feel all funny for the rest of the day

But whatever your laughing about ought to be good if it sets you off

And he can’t help but sigh in bliss as he scrapes off the entertainment from his uniform

Malleus Draconia

Is gifted to hear even a hint of your bell-like laughter

You have a several meter long radius for anyone from Diasomnia

Especially him

You’ll prefer to glare at him and cuss him out if he so much as looks at you

“But how can I not stare you’re simply alluring when you–”

“I WISH I COULD KILL YOU DIASOMNIA TRASH! SEVENS I HATE YOU SO MUCH!”

“Even when you scold me you’re so perfect.”

#yandere #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus #yandere floyd leech #yandere jade leech #yandere twst #yandere leona kingscholar #yandere leona twst #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yanderes #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere x creweldaughter reader #yanderes x leopard half-fae crewel daughter #yandere crewel dad

[chiharuhashibira]

Hello so pls can you do a sanemi x insecure reader?? If not him any other hashira ???

Hi Anonymous XD Whoever you are, I hope you can read this short! ^^

Of course we can do this! Hmmmm~ How about for Kyojuro as my other readers wants this genre too ^^

Tagging @skeleton-the-gangser~ I haven't forgotten about your request hihi. For now, perhaps you would also like to check this fic for Kyojuro~ And also check the Obanai headcanon too! UwU

Sooooo, here we go!

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒚 𝑬𝒚𝒆

𝐀 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐗 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭

Content Warnings: Hmm, a bit of drama? Perhaps Kyojuro's "UMAI!" XD

Kyojuro Rengoku, when have you ever seen him frown? As far as you can remember, he was always smiling.

You don't feel any envy about that. It's just that sometimes you wonder how he can do it despite all the challenges that have happened in his life. A part of you wants to know so that you can also put a smile on your face like you did before.

Kyojuro's your sunshine; there's no doubt in that. But sometimes, the shadows still loom over you.

What a weak Demon Slayer...

What a failure.

Why don't you just bury yourself beneath that misery and disappear?

You always hear these harsh words repeating inside your head. But then, these are the words that no one would dare to tell you. How can anyone disrespect a Hashira's lover and tsugoku? Kyojuro will surely never let that happen.

But yes, seeing how strong your master and lover are, you can't help but compare yourself and doubt if you deserve to be his tsugoku.

"Hey, you're at it again, Y/N-sama!"

You were cut out of your trance when that familiar tone came into your senses. You turned to look at him, and there you met his eyes that looked like the sunrise. Kyojuro is just so beautiful, and you just can't stop admiring it.

"Hold your sword high and swing it at me. You can't let your bad thoughts get the best out of you, Y/N-sama!"

You had almost forgotten that you were currently training with him. So then, staring at his eyes and his seemingly-eternal proud smile, you swung your wooden sword at him, managing to dodge his attacks.

And with a few blinks, you finally managed to point the wooden sword at his neck.

The training grounds at the Rengoku estate resounded with his laughter. He's cheering for your success in battle, not because he thinks you're hilarious.

Oh, here you go again, with those thoughts...

Kyojuro led you inside the house, taking the wooden sword from your hand and finally planting a kiss on your lips.

That motion made you astounded, as both of you were supposed to act like master and student right now, but he's the one to break that training rule that he had put in place in the first place.

"Baka!" You said, covering your lips, that that made him chuckle more.

"Training's done, my love. There's no need for formalities." He assured you, making your blush go brighter. What exactly does he mean by 'no need for formalities'?

Kyojuro tried to kiss you once again, which made you look away and cross your arms. "Why do you even like me, Kyo? I'm not as strong and pretty as you're friends. So, why me?"

Your lover flinched at your question. His smile faded; a frown was plastered on his face. This caught you off-guard as this is the first time that you have ever saw him that way. His owl-like eyes stared at you, as if reading you through your eyes.

It's true; you really never felt that you belonged here in the first place, especially when you saw how he, Kanroji-san, and Uzui-san trained together. You can't even see some of their actions because of how fast they were, and besides, Uzui-san would always tease you about how unflashy your stances were sometimes.

That was a simple joke, but it takes a toll on you. Especially when you see how close Kanroji-san is to her former master. You can't stop being red with jealousy, but also with envy at how strong she is.

You bit your lip, trying to stop the tears that is triggered with this envy. Sometimes you just want to be like Kanroji-san. Or sometimes you just also have your lover's smile or Uzui-san's flashiness.

Perhaps if you would be like them, everything would be better.

"You're the apple of my eye, and that's an enough reason!" He said with his loud and proud voice that made your tears finally escape your eyes.

Most of the time, when you feel insecure, Kyojuro will just try to change the conversation, shifting it to a happier one so that you forget that you felt that emotion in the first place. Sometimes, you even think that he doesn't care at all or that he just has no time to entertain those thoughts.

But perhaps those were just thoughts brought to you by your subconscious mind, which wants to seek validation. Because even before, Kyojuro would tell you how beautiful you are. Scold Uzui-san for teasing you so much, and even Kanroji-san tried to cheer you up whenever your lover told them that you weren't in the mood to be around them.

"The first time I laid my eyes on you was also the first time the flames in my heart ignited. I love you from the bottom of my heart because of who you are right now, Y/N."

"Kyojuro... stop... I–I know I'm just a bother–"

"The way your hands move whenever you hold your sword, the way your eyes focus on me or your enemy on the battlefield... The way you seemingly perform a graceful dance as you do the techniques, I thought you... I love all of those."

"No, don't say that."

"I love the way you take care of me! I love your cooking! Every dish that you make makes me say, 'Umai!' from the bottom of my heart!"

"Shut up, Kyo..."

"No, you listen to me, Y/N!" His voice was loud as usual, but now it seems like he does it for a reason, and that's to break the walls of insecurity that are enveloping you at the moment.

You could feel the sincerity of his words, but you still tried to stop him. Before you could even walk away, Kyojuro held you and pulled you into a warm embrace.

The world stopped.

"I love you, Y/N... And I hope you can see yourself the way I see you. You're much better than you think, most of the time. You're definitely better than those bad thoughts! I'm sorry if I seem to shut you out whenever you feel like this. I don't mean that, I just don't want you to feel sad. I never wanted to feel you sad."

Tears continued to stream down from your eyes as you heard those words from him. Kyojuro's the kind of guy whose words can break walls. And so he just did now. He had set your heart ablaze once again, just like he did when you first met each other.

"Y/N, you're enough. And I'll always make you remember that."

Kyojuro lifted his head up and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You slowly kissed him back and wrapped your arms around his body. "I love you, Kyo." You said this as you both pulled out and looked into each other's glittering eyes.

"I love you too, Y/N... I love you so much, and nothing could ever change that."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑯! 𝑼𝑴𝑨𝑰!

The short fic is done! UwU I hope you enjoyed it >.&lt; I know it's kinda a bit rush but it's 2AM here HAHAHA

Also, perhaps you noticed how I put a tension between the OCs and Mitsuri XD Eeeek! It's just because Mitsuri is also insecure so I think, having someone feel that way for her will just make the readers feel something? AAAK I can't explain haha!

But anyways, I really loved writing this... I hope Kyo could also say those words to me T_T

Soooo good night for now! I will check more requests tomorrow and write more I promise!

Keep the requests going ^^ I will write those as soon as my schedule becomes free~ Feel free to reblog and comment ^^ Thank you!!

Ja ne~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

#rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku imagines #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x y/n #rengoku x y/n #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x female reader #flame hashira #flame pillar #rengoku headcanons #kyojuro headcanons #requests open

[corruptedcaps]

The Wild Child

Caroline stood in front of the washing machine, watching the clothes tumble around in the soapy water. She couldn't help but feel frustrated and exhausted, like she had been doing this same chore for an eternity.

Caroline had been up all night waiting for her daughter Rebecca to come home. She couldn't help but feel frustrated and exhausted, as it seemed like every night Rebecca was out partying, staying out late, and causing trouble.

Caroline had tried everything to rein in her daughter's behavior. She had grounded her, taken away her phone, even tried to reason with her. But nothing seemed to work. Her daughter had no respect for her. It was like Rebecca was out of control, a wild child who refused to be tamed. And as she folded another shirt and placed it in the basket, Caroline couldn't help but lament to herself that she never was a wild child in her youth.

“Ah crap.” Caroline said as she took out one of her own shirt and shorts and realized they had shrunk. She had accidentally put them in a wash with Rebecca’s clothes and her shorts had taken on a new red colour as a result. The legs also somehow fused together, becoming a ridiculously short skirt. She thought this new washing machine was supposed to avoid colour transfers but as she looked at the controls now more awake than earlier she realized it was set to ‘transfer’.

“Why would a machine even have that setting?” She said out loud in frustration as she shoved the wet clothes into the dryer. She watched the clothes tumble around, in an almost hypnotic way lulling her into memories of her youth.

Growing up, Caroline had been the opposite of her daughter. She had always been responsible, studious, and well-behaved. She had never been interested in partying or staying out late, and had always followed the rules. It was something she was proud of, but now, as a mother struggling with a rebellious daughter, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she had missed out on something.

She thought of the friends she had, the ones who had partied and lived life on the edge. She thought of the moments when she had been tempted to join in, but had always held back, afraid of what her parents would think.

Now, as a parent herself, she couldn't help but think that maybe she had been too strict, too uptight. Maybe if she had been more of a rebellious teen, she would know how to handle her own wild child.

The dryer dinged breaking her out of her reminiscence and she started to pull the clothes out. Pulling out her clothes caused her to pause. They certainly looked different but now that they had been dried they looked kind of good. Caroline couldn’t believe it but they looked kind of sexy.

They reminded her of Rebecca’s various club outfits but she had washed each of their clothes more than enough to know these weren’t her daughters and yet they weren’t hers either. Not anymore anyway. They had been changed by the machine somehow.

She couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as she held them up, admiring their revealing and daring style. It was something she would never have worn in her youth, and now, as a middle-aged mother, she knew she never would.

But as she continued staring, the curiosity got the better of her. What would it be like to wear something like this, to feel sexy and daring, to be the center of attention at a wild party? She knew it was a silly thought, but she couldn't help herself. So, with a mix of hesitation and excitement, she decided to try on the top and skirt.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, Caroline couldn't help but feel a bit silly. The top was too tight, and the skirt was way too short. But at the same time, she felt alive. She felt a thrill that she hadn't felt in years, a sense of excitement and adventure that had been missing from her life.

For a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to be a wild child. To go out to parties, to stay out late, to be carefree and rebellious. To be someone like her daughter Rebecca. No! To be someone her daughter envied!

As Caroline stood in front of the mirror, she couldn't bring herself to take off the clothes even though she knew she should. It was a strange feeling, but as she looked at herself, she started to feel a tingle in her body. It was a sensation she had never felt before, as if her body was trying to match the daring and provocative outfit.

She watched in amazement as her reflection started to change. Her skin became smoother, her hair shinier and fuller, and her curves more defined. She looked more youthful, more sexy, and more confident. It was as if the outfit was bringing out a side of her that she never knew existed.

Caroline was amazed at what she was seeing, and yet she was also terrified. She couldn't understand what was happening to her. Was it a dream, a hallucination, or was she going crazy? She tried to take off the clothes, but it felt as if it had become a part of her.

The more she tried to remove the dress, the more her body transformed, and the more she felt a sense of freedom and power. She felt as if she was shedding her inhibitions and becoming the woman she always wanted to be. The wild child she never was in her youth. The more she fought the better it felt.

But something else had changed too. She felt a new sense of power, a sense of entitlement that she’d never felt before. She wanted everyone to look at her, to admire her, to worship her. And if they didn’t, well, they weren’t worth her time.

Caroline couldn't resist the temptation of her newfound beauty and wickedness. She posed in a nearby mirror, moving her body in ways she never thought possible. She felt alive, free, and unencumbered from the worries and stresses of her life. The changes to her body eventually stopped, and she was left marveling at her reflection. She looked amazing. In fact, she looked better than she did even in her youth.

Her once gentle and kind face had a newfound wickedness to it. Her inner voice whispered to her, "You can have anything you want now. Men will fall at your feet. Women will envy you. You are unstoppable."

“Yessss! I deserve it! But something is missing… ah yes!” She said as she spotted a pair of Rebecca’s high heels on the floor and slipped into them perfectly.

As she was admiring herself, she heard footsteps coming down from Rebecca's bedroom. "Mom?" Rebecca called out, curious as to what was going on. But Caroline knew that she wasn't the same person anymore. She had shed her old identity and embraced a new one.

“Mom? What the hell happened? You look amazing!” Rebecca said seeing her transformed mother with a twinge of jealously that made Caroline feel even better.

"Mom is gone, you can call me Carrie from now on," she said, turning to face Rebecca. "I'm your peer now. Or maybe it'll be more fun being your rival."

Rebecca was stunned at the transformation in her mother. She had never seen her like this before, so confident and sexy. It was as if she was looking at a completely different person. One thing was sure was she would definitely rival Rebecca for attention out in the clubs and Rebecca could have that. "We need to reverse this, how do we reverse this?" Rebecca asked, somewhat panicking.

Carrie smiled, taking a step closer to Rebecca. "I don't know," she replied, "But I feel alive. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm truly living. I’m never going back to the way things were before."

Rebecca looked at her mother with a mix of admiration and confusion. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her mother had always been the responsible one, the one who took care of everything and everyone. Maybe she had taken her for granted. Maybe if she appealed to her motherly instincts it would snap her out of it.

“But who’s going to cook and clean and do the laundry and care for me?” Rebecca said trying her best to act like a wounded deer but Carrie knew a lioness when she saw one. After all she was one now.

“Pathetic. Nice try but pathetic. I’m heading out to have a little fun for once. Maybe you should stay here and cook and clean for once. Lucky for you I did the laundry.” Carrie smirked as she clopped over to the opened dryer and pulled out the remaining clothes which belonged to Rebecca and threw them at her daughter.

“They’ll need to be folded though.” Carrie said with a laugh as she headed out the door of the house to begin living her life.

Rebecca stood in shock with her clothes by her feet. She would just have to teach her mother a lesson like all the other bitchy rivals she had in the past. There could only be one wild child in their family and Rebecca certainly wasn’t going to let her mother take her throne. Maybe she could catch her if she dressed quick.

Stripping down to her underwear she started grabbing the clean clothes at her feet randomly and slipped them onto her body. As she did she failed to notice how baggy they had become. They also seemed to be sucked of any colour, of any life. They kind of looked like something her mother would have worn back when her mother was a doormat and not the overly confident Carrie.

Suddenly Rebecca started to feel a tingle across her body, as if her body was reacting to the clothes….

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #power transfer #corrupted clothing #evil bitch

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 23

WARNINGS: none

You walk back to your dormitory in a daze. You are half convinced that what just happened minutes ago back up in the twins' dormitory was a dream (you've had many dreams about the Weasley twins, so another one wouldn't be uncommon). But... no. It was all too real to be a dream. You recall the glorious feeling of being held by George, his arms around you, his lips on yours...

You begin to smile at the memory, but quickly stop yourself. You want to be happy about your wonderful time spent with George, and yet, some part of you can't help but feel that it's all wrong.

"What about Fred?" you had said, and George had appeared completely unbothered by your expression of feeling torn between him and his brother. Wouldn't a man naturally become jealous if he found out that the woman he admired — even if she had the same feelings for him — had feelings for another man, let alone his brother? When it was revealed to you that Fred had been a witness of yours and George's moment, Fred had acted the same. He had even congratulated his twin brother, as if having absolutely no romantic feelings towards you. And then Fred proceeded to flirt with you in the most simple, yet effective way possible right in front of George. Neither of the twins were even a little bit jealous of or upset over the other, and you find it utterly puzzling. Was it possible that (as devilish as the thought was in your wondering mind) the twins had made some sort of agreement, whether it be unspoken or written down on a piece of parchment, to... share you?

For a moment you are so distracted that you're almost caught by a prefect who marches up and down the next hallway. You dash into the shelter of a nearby doorway until it is safe for you to continue.

Fred and George are identical twins, so they tend share a lot of things: clothes, school supplies, good looks... but girlfriends? (Is it even safe to say that you are at the "girlfriend level" with either of the twins, even after pushing past your original limits with George tonight? You've certainly been spending a lot of time with Fred and George over the past few months, and you feel this kind of specialness with them that you've never felt before...) You try to remember if you ever saw or heard about Fred or George with a girlfriend before you officially met them. You know they each had their own individual dates to the Yule Ball last year, but you haven't seen those girls with the twins since.

You sigh as you finally reach the Slytherin common room entrance. You're tired and overwhelmed by everything that has happened, so you push it all to the back of your mind for now. You don't particularly enjoy imagining the twins being with other girls anyway.

You open the door to your dorm to find Maddy in the middle of changing into her pajamas. She makes brief eye contact with you before you politely look away.

You go to pull your trunk out from under your bed and take out your own night clothes to change into. You face your bed and, as you begin to undress, Maddy's low voice interrupts the quiet of the night.

"He talks about you."

You freeze momentarily, wondering at first who in the world she could be referring to, until it dawns on you. Malfoy. The only guy she would ever give a second thought to now. Of course he talks about you. He hates you for wounding his ego, and Malfoy talks an awful lot about the things that he hates. You continue changing.

Maddy goes on as you unbutton your shirt. "Draco doesn't really like me. I wish he did, but he likes you."

The silence that follows is uncomfortable. Maddy has caught you off guard. You expected her to say, if anything, something rude or haughty. But her words are sad, with a touch of envy.

"I'm sure he'd still have you," Maddy sighs. "I'll step out of your way without a fight if you change your mind." It sounds strangely like an offer.

What? Even after all these months you've seen Malfoy and Maddy together, you still can't wrap your head around it. The long time during which you and Maddy were good friends, you'd both easily agreed that Malfoy was, in a nutshell, a rotten person whom neither of you would want anything to do with ever. Now, Maddy talks like he's a good opportunity in the dating field!

You surprise yourself by laughing harshly. "I wouldn't even consider going out with Malfoy if we were the last two people on earth!"

Maddy doesn't respond immediately. You step into your pants, close your trunk, slide it back under the bed, and crawl into bed under the covers.

"You don't understand," Maddy eventually says quietly. "I'm trying to help you, giving you a second chance because he's too scared or whatever to do it himself—"

"Well, I don't want a second chance!" you interrupt, rolling over on your side to finally look at Maddy. She's already facing you. "I don't like Malfoy."

Maddy's expression is an impatient grimace. "Yes, I am very aware of that," she says quickly. "But..." She desperately searches for the right words to say. "I've been hearing things... Something is coming." Your face softens with confusion. Maddy also seems to relax now that she really has your attention. "I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I think there are going to be two sides to it, and at the end of the day..." She takes in a deep breath, then exhales, "I want you to be on my side."

You take a long moment to let her words sink in. Two sides? To what? Maddy makes whatever it is sound big. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach as you realizes that she may be referring to what the Ministry has been fearing since last school year. If He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named really is back... no doubt, there would be a war at some point. A war between You-Know- Who's army and... everyone else. You sit up on the edge of your bed, chewing on the inside of your cheek nervously. "And what side is that?" you ask.

"The one that is going to win," Maddy replies firmly without hesitation. The way she says it makes your heart beat faster with anxiety. "And I know that the Malfoy family will be on that side," Maddy continues, growing excited. "I believe that, if you build a good relationship with the Malfoy family through Draco, you can redeem yourself and be saved!" You shake your head, struggling to make sense of what she's telling you. She must've seen the gesture as a protest because the excitement on her face dies away suddenly. "People are going to die, y/n," she says morbidly. "And I don't want you to be one of them." You're speechless. It's been so long since you've heard Maddy say your name.

Then you begin to wonder if Malfoy put her up to this, if he truly does fancy you that is. She's basically become another one of his cronies and may not care for you as much as she says she does. Maybe she's only following orders. You consider accusing her of it, but decide it wouldn't be a smart move. She seems so genuine, you could be wrong. Maybe you really can get your friend back! But, then again, she's a Slytherin. She could just as well be lying to you.

"What about doing what's right?" you say, staring her in the eye. "What if I'd rather die fighting for what's right than live on ashamed and regretful for the rest of my life?"

Maddy's face contorts into an angry scowl, and she gets to her feet. She walks to the middle of the room and starts pacing, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. It's like she wants to argue with you, but there's also a quarrel within herself. She doesn't know what she wants. Either that, or she does and something is keeping her from having it. When Maddy turns to face you once more, she has tears in her eyes.

Maddy's voice shakes, and it breaks your heart. "Please, y/n. Come with me," she begs, but she seems to already know how you'll answer.

"I'm sorry," you whisper as you, too, start to tear up. "I can't." You lay back down on your side facing the wall. It's your way of saying that the conversation is over, but, as the tears roll down your face and onto your pillow, you know that you'll be thinking about it for a very, very long time.

#fred and george weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #wizarding world #fred and george #fred weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #weasley twins #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred and george weasley x y/n #fred and george x y/n #fred and george x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasly x reader #weasley twins x y/n #weasley twins x reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #reader pov #pov #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #slytherin girl #slytherin

[avacoleman]

It's been a minute since I've done one of these, but this nugget of an idea has been kicking around in my head as of late. here's a bit from a second chance, past/present romance. this snippet is from their college days

“Can I ask you something?”

“That sounds terribly ominous, but I suppose so, yes.”

Alex sits up, resting his back against the wall.

“Are you happy?”

Henry does a double take, brought up short completely by the question.

“Pardon me?”

Alex twirls his pencil like a drumstick between his long fingers. Henry’s head feels as if it’s in a tailspin too.

“I have my own thoughts on the whole royal family thing. They aren’t exactly…diplomatic so I’ll break tradition and keep my mouth shut. Though, I can’t help but wonder what it’s really like day to day.”

Henry frowns slightly before schooling his features.

“I don’t have anything else to genuinely compare it to. By default, I’d imagine I should be happy.”

“That’s not at all what I asked. Are you actually happy?”

Henry searches Alex's eyes. No one outside his immediate circle has ever spoken to him so bluntly before. For a moment Henry wonders if he should pull rank, but he sees the out that’s being given to him.

Alex is giving him a chance to speak freely— at least as freely as Henry can allow himself to be.

“There’s an unbelievable amount of pressure that makes it difficult at times to ever feel fully happy or content. Some days I’m not even sure if I can live up to what my life is predetermined to be.”

Alex’s brows furrow.

“How so? I mean, I get it. Life in the public eye feels more like living in a fishbowl or being under a microscope all day every day. You’ve got it even worse than me.”

Henry laughs dryly.

“I have it worse than anyone.”

“Is it really all that bad? There aren’t any parts of the gig that make it worthwhile?”

“Calling it a gig suggests that I have an actual choice or say in the matter,” Henry replies.

Alex winces a little.

“Fuck, you’re right. Sorry. I guess I just mean, is there anything about your role in the royal family that you feel appreciative of? That makes you genuinely happy to be in this position?”

Henry looks away and takes a moment to gather his thoughts, of which there are many. Alex gives him the time to parse through it all, never once becoming impatient or pressing.

“If life in the public eye is a fishbowl, then I’d equate life in the palace to that of a gilded cage. Dress it up however you might like, it’s still— at its core— akin to a prison.”

Henry sighs and shakes his head. 

“I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or ungrateful. I honestly don’t. I know that being born into this family has provided me with luxuries and opportunities most people could never even dream of. All the same, it can come at a great personal cost.”

“And what’s the price you’re paying?”

Henry opens his mouth. The words dance precariously on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them down, not daring to give them room to breathe.

“I can’t say. Not right now at least.”

Alex looks even more intrigued, his head tilting slightly. Henry likes the way the light catches his eyes as they hold each other's gaze. 

“Would the truth really cost you so much that you’d rather keep it as a burden instead?”

There’s no judgment in Alex’s tone, just a genuine curiosity that makes Henry desperately want to be able to confess all he’s been bottling up.

“Yes. I can’t gamble with my future like that. When it’s all said and done, a gilded cage still offers protection. Perhaps I’ve developed an acute case of Stockholm syndrome,” he tries to joke.

Alex stares at him, looking troubled by Henry’s sentiments.

“No one should be trapped in a life they don’t want to live.”

“Ah, but you see, freedom is the ultimate luxury. I’m not so sure if that’s the hand I’ve been dealt.”

“Sounds to me like you need to change the rules or maybe even play a different game altogether.”

Henry smiles wistfully.

“An inspired thought. I admire your rebellious spirit. I dare say I even envy it.”

#rwrb fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #userthai #tusersonia #tuserpaige #usernicholas #usersteen #userjamiec #iuserzoe #kimmy writes