#Flight: Dare to Dream

[albertayebisackey]

“As Pegasus soars, it whispers tales of courage to those who dare to dream.”

[radiant-reid]

24 Hours

request: a blurb where he actually gets mad at JJ when she confesses to love him but doesn't really say anything at the moment. But then when he introduces reader to the team as his girlfriend, JJ is being kinda rude to her. She tries to tell him she doesn't like her, that she's not good for him. And spencer gets mad and protective👀 maybe he even throws a "i'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not".

a/n: my return piece !!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Word Count: 2.2k

Spencer sees red when he walks out of the jewelry store after shooting the unsub.

JJ is the first girl he has ever asked out, someone he pined over for years after her subtle rejection at the Redskins game. He understood her reasoning. It would have been impractical for them to add relationship highs and lows to everything the BAU has been through over fourteen years, and that's if they stayed together. If they hadn't, things would have been even more complicated.

Also she just generally didn't like him that way. Or so he thought.

It didn't mean she wasn't his ideal for many years. His first love, who had so many traits he didn't have that he desperately wanted.

His confirmation he would be unlucky in love came after that with Maeve, who he once again thought could be the one for him. And then he realized that maybe the person for him had been taken away from him.

Then he met Y/n, and it all seemed worth it. All those terrible nights of crying and feeling like he would forever be alone, all the times he was the only single one on the team, knowing everyone was going home to someone they loved unconditionally and relied on for support.

She's the sun and the moon, and he fell in love so fast he couldn't stop it. Luckily, she did too.

Until JJ fucked it up.

The truth she had to tell to get them out alive dropped an atomic bomb on his newly formed life plans.

Spencer doesn't speak to her that night as they finish their recounts and reports. She leaves it out, though, he discovers, opting to write the secret about her miscarriage instead of confessing her love for her best friend and the godfather of her kids.

It messes with his head the whole way home. He can't sleep on the jet, even if he wanted to as he tried to work out what he was feeling.

All JJ does is send him pleading looks, and all he does is get angry because how dare she do this now? After she had fifteen years of them working together, all those chances to tell him how she felt.

He would have married and had a family with her, the family he always wanted. It's always stayed in the back of his head for so long, and just as he sees someone else in that role in his dreams, she drudges all of it back up.

It's such a long flight, and he taps his foot the whole way while staring out the window, not even able to read.

He goes to Y/n's. He's not sure what he's going to say, how much of it he's going to tell her, but he needs to see her to cool off the fury boiling out of him.

"Hey, handsome." She calls out when he walks in the door as cheerful as ever.

He feels a pit of guilt sink into his stomach because he can't tell her without ruining everything they delicately have put together. Maybe it's wrong to lie by omission, but his brain keeps coming back to fault. And it's JJ's fault. She's the one who's jeopardizing everything.

"Hi, gorgeous." He replies, walking into the living room to find her laying on the couch, book in her hands and her head on the armrest. He's reminded how accurate the petname he calls her by is when he's taken off guard by her breathless beauty. "How are you liking it?" He asks.

"It's good." She answers, putting the book down. "But that's because it's very you."

She gets up, meeting him behind the couch to cup his jaw, stroking over his skin and staring into his eyes for a moment before kissing him properly.

He relaxes into it, the tension in his shoulders easing and his brain slowing down for a moment. It's heavenly, as always, and it's what being loved is meant to feel like.

"How was your case?" She asks when she pulls back, still not daring to move too far away from him.

He tenses instantly at that, totally readable behavior, but he's got to perfect excuse to play it off. "It was rough." He holds out his bandaged hand that he's been avoiding showing her. "I got hurt."

"Shit." She straightens up, noticing how big it looked. "What happened?"

"Cut it on glass." He answers, not going as far as to say where he was when it occurred. "I'm fine, though. Promise."

She nods, reassured. "We've got to be up in, like, six hours, you know?" She reminds him of the time.

With the amount of coffee and adrenaline in his system, he barely registered it was already past 2 in the morning. Usually, they would have stayed in LA for the night, but being home in time for Rossi's wedding trumped a good night of sleep for everyone.

"Can I sleep here?" He wonders, awkwardly looking down at his feet.

"Duh. I'm not going to kick you out and make you come pick me up so we can go tomorrow morning." She jokes. "Picked up your suit, too. You're going to look very handsome."

Spencer grins because she seriously can't get more perfect. She still feels so unattainable, but he'd do anything to make sure he doesn't lose her.

He really should tell her, but he can't. Not right now.

Y/n snaps him out of it. "Bedtime now?"

"Please." He agrees gratefully, keeping his arms wrapped around her while they walk to her bedroom.

He keeps her close while they go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Spencer quickly sheds his suit and both of them brush their teeth.

His head is on the pillow for only a few seconds before he's asleep, and she follows soon after.

The alarm going off isn't as much of a problem when Spencer is lying in bed next to her, arm wrapped around her waist. It's one of the things she misses a lot when he's away.

"Hi, beautiful," Spencer whispers, a husky voice as always. He's glad he fell asleep quickly, not having wanted to sit up thinking about the stupid things JJ has said. He just couldn't understand why it was coming up now. Sleep provided absolutely no clarity.

She grins at him. "Hi."

"Are you ready for today?" He asks softly.

"A little nervous," Y/n admits. The BAU is his family after all. His mom is there but the BAU has been where he's spent most of his life for the last 15 years.

"They'll love you." Because I love you. Spencer assures her.

She smiles softly, feeling a little better. "Let's get up then."

Spencer agrees, not before planting a few kisses on her lips and hugging her tightly.

They get ready side by side, feeling a great sense of domesticity. She's never gotten close to someone as quickly as she has with Spencer. Somehow, it's not scary that it's happened this way.

"Wow, you're very gorgeous," Spencer tells her as she touches up the final strand of her hair, adding enough hairspray that it won't fall out. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, admiring her. "Wow."

"Thank you." Y/n spins around to look at him in his deep maroon suit. It matches her dress color which she agrees looks very nice on her. "And you're very handsome."

"Ready? The car is coming soon." He says.

She nods, fixing her bracelet. "Let's do it."

There are still some nerves as the car takes them to the venue. Spencer does a good job of assuring her it'll be okay, his hand like a magnet to her thigh. He seems slightly off like there's something out of place, but she shrugs it off. She hopes he's being cute and afraid his friends still say something embarrassing.

The venue and interior are exquisite as they make their way in. She takes a deep breath before they come across the man of the day, welcoming everyone at the entrance. She has no doubt that the value of the artwork in this room totals her apartment and everything in it.

"Spencer." Rossi, supposably, greets him in a tight hug.

"This is my girlfriend, Y/n." Spencer introduces them.

As she expects, and as she was warned about by Spencer, Rossi pulls her in for a hug, immediately calming her nerves with his warm greeting. "It's so nice to meet you. This one won't stop talking about you." Rossi jokes, nodding at an increasingly reddening Spencer.

"It's nice to meet you too." She smiles. "Thank you for inviting me."

Rossi nods. "Of course, it's a pleasure."

And then the rest of the introductions begin. Everyone's so kind, like she expected. She's seen photos and heard stories but everyone seems to have more personality than he conveyed. She's quickly fast friends with Penelope and Tara who do their absolute best to make sure Y/n's feeling comfortable.

It's how she ends up being dragged onto the dance floor after the ceremony. Once the alcohol starts flowing, there's no more anxiousness left and some extroverted spirit has been brought out.

Spencer's not one to dance, but he's one to admire. Only Y/n, though. She looks angelic, despite the old-style dance moves.

He's so wrapped up in watching her that he doesn't register JJ's heels on the ground as she approaches him. It's only when she sits next to him that his head turns around to face her.

He waits for her to speak first. Hopefully, provide some explanation.

"Spencer." She says his name softly, almost like how he used to imagine she'd say it if they were together. Much to his surprise, she doesn't go into any detail about the bomb she'd dropped less than 24 hours ago. "I'm worried about you."

He doesn't hide his scoff. "Worried about me?" He repeats.

She goes for another tactic, trying not to get him mad. "You don't think you're rushing into this?"

"Rushing into what, Jennifer?" He spits back, snapping to anger. Using her first name drives the point home, almost unnecessarily when he sounds so angered.

"You know what I mean." She continues. "You've only been talking about her for a few weeks and now she's here."

He can't fathom that she'd suggest he's rushing into a relationship. He's been careful and deliberate, but Y/n's safe, and she's proved it time and time again.

"She's been part of my life for 6 months." Spencer fact-checks her. "And you said I seemed happier since I met her."

JJ stalls, regrouping before trying another angle. "She's just not what I expected. Is she really the type you should be with?"

"What does that mean?" Spencer states, more furious than ever. There's a chance he will fully snap at her and he wouldn't be sorry.

"I feel like you should be with someone extroverted." She suggests. "You know, someone to get you out of your shell."

Spencer needs a deep breath. "You're not being a good friend right now." He tells her much more calmly. There's not one thing he doesn't love about Y/n, whether she's more on the extroverted or introverted side."I'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not." It's not even what he expected to come out of his mouth.

"Spence-" JJ tries again to reason with him.

"No, don't you dare," Spencer says firmly. "You flew back and forth from New Orleans so many times to see Will, without telling us once and we were all accepting of your relationship. If you don't like my relationship, I don't care. But it's not too soon for me to know. We can talk about what you told me later, but for now, I'm going to dance with my girlfriend." Without another word, he gets up and walks off, leaving her a little gobsmacked.

Y/n frowns at him as he approaches the dance floor. "Are you okay?" She checks.

"More than okay," Spencer tells her with a soft smile.

"Dance with me then." She says, mirroring her smile and holding out her hand.

"I'd love to." He takes her hand just as a slow song comes on for them to sway together.

JJ gets ignored by him for the rest of the night, something unnoticed by Y/n but purposeful by Spencer. But it's fun. So much fun. And he's sure he wouldn't be having as much fun had Y/n not been there. She truly makes his day.

They're in the car later that night, parked near her apartment, ice cream eaten on the trip home. "I'm in love with you," Spencer admits when her laughter falls off after he tells a joke.

It's not a word they've said before.

Her expression is of pure shock, but joy quickly creeps in. "I'm in love with you too." She tells him, grinning.

And it's an entirely better confession than the one he heard 24 hours ago.

[hrrtshape]

✶ THINGS TO REMEMBER WHEN YOU’RE DOUBTING SHIFTING.

𖥻  SPACE. just.. HELLO ?? we are literally a speck of dust in a ginormous cosmic playground that we can’t even fully explore because we’re too busy figuring out if cats can vibe to beethoven or if that godforsaken dress is white or blue. you think THIS is the only reality? somewhere out there, there’s a planet where the sky is pink, dogs talk, and you’re riding unicorns. shifting is NOT a crazy concept.

𖥻 DINOSAURS. THEY. WERE. REAL. like actual dragons without wings, stomping around, acting like they owned the place. if THAT can exist, why not shifting ? you think the universe peaked at “giant chickens with teeth”? no way. reality is way too wild for limits.

𖥻 DÉJÀ VU. EXPLAIN IT WITHOUT THE MULTIVERSE. I DARE YOU. why do we randomly feel like we’ve been here before, done this before, or even said this before? because we HAVE. somewhere, somewhen, sometime. you’re already living proof of infinite realities brushing shoulders.

𖥻 QUANTUM PHYSICS (4 da nerdies). scientists out here with their schrödinger’s cats and double-slit experiments proving that reality isn’t fixed. it’s ALL probabilities until you observe it.

𖥻 YOU'RE HUMAN. our brains are INSANE. dreams? lucid dreams? daydreaming? thinking of a time and feeling like you just tasted it? if your brain can already do ALL THAT, shifting is just another level. literally just....closing your eyes and opening them in another place.

𖥻 YOU'RE ALREADY DOING IT. every time you daydream or even think “what if,” you’re stepping closer to a version of yourself in another reality. you're peeking through the multiverse’s window. shifting is just diving in instead of peeking.

𖥻 YOUR DESIRES EXIST. if you can imagine it, it exists somewhere. that’s not wishful thinking; that’s logic. where do ideas come from if not from infinite possibilities? you’re not just dreaming—you’re remembering. nothing goes by you without a purpose. if it found you, it was supposed to !!!!!!!

𖥻 THE MANDELA EFFECT. remember when pikachu definitely had a black tail tip, or when the berenstain bears were called the berenSTEIN bears? reality’s already glitchy as fuck. shifting? just another glitch—but YOU’RE IN CONTROL.

𖥻 FAIRYTALES HAD TO COME FROM SOMEWHERE. you think someone just WOKE UP and said, “dragons, magic castles, enchanted forests!” no. no. no. those stories? they’re just whispers from realities where that’s NORMAL. you’re not making it up—you’re tuning in. experiencing it. liviiiiiiiing it.

𖥻 TIME IS FAKE. i said it. not to get too conspiratorial on my tumblr blog, but what even IS time? a straight line? a wibbly-wobbly thingy? we made clocks, but the universe? the universe is, like, “what is a ‘tuesday’?” shifting doesn’t care about time; it’s above all that silly nonsense. and so are you.

𖥻 PARALLEL UNIVERSE ARE A THING ('n' SCIENCE effing SAID SO). quantum mechanics already told us there’s an infinite number of realities where every possibility plays out. in one of them, you’re already living your best life. shifting is just YOU popping in to say hi to THAT version of you.

𖥻 REALITY IS (lowkey) BORING WITHOUT BELIEF. why settle for “this is it. this is my life. a 9-5 job. a life which i barely live out” when the multiverse is basically screaming, “come explore!!” ? you’re a creator. you’re a wanderer.

𖥻 "I FEEL IT" IS ENOUGH. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. if you can close your eyes and feel that DR, the love, the magic, the LIFE—you’re already there. the multiverse doesn’t need proof; it needs belief. so don't let idiots with half a brain on tik tok tell you that you're wrong, when you're so, so, so, so, SOOOO close to BEING THERE and living your best life.

𖥻 finally, LITERALLY, WHY NOT ?  life’s already bananas. people thought flying was impossible, and now we’re out here booking ryanair flights to halfway across the world. people said sex with robots isn't true, and kim k is already siting on a robot's lap. people said the government cannot be stupid, and elon musk is already part of it. shifting is just the next “impossible” (and not to be cheeky...but the word literally has 'i'm possible' in it) thing that YOU are proving possible.

so. girl. dude. diva. bro. go shift.

part two of my series: DIVING INTO THE CONCEPT OF THE SOUL.

part three: MINDSETS.

[milksnake-tea]

━━ say you still dare to dream .

Sunday has lost everything. His status, his home, his sister, all of it has slipped through his fingers, all for a failed attempt at salvation. Now imprisoned and destined to live his life in shameful shadow, you, his former subordinate, appear to offer him one last chance of redemption.

sunday x gn!reader

contains: aftermath of 2.3, depression, sunday at his lowest

word count: 1.5k

a/n: depressed sunday is my favorite sunday. like damn bro you got BROKEN ig this is what being rammed by a train 8 times does to a man... ANYWAYS. DONT TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY THIS IS JUST ME DOING SOME WRITING PRACTICE WITH BEING DRAMATIC hunches over and dies

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina

“I can only allow you a few minutes at most,” says the woman in purple.

A devil in velvet, that was what they called her. Although she may not look like much - from a distance, you’d mistake her as yet another filthy rich vacationer of Penacony - up close, her snake-like eyes and elegantly poised stature, always ready to strike unsuspecting prey, told you just how dangerous she was.

Lady Bonajade, the Stoneheart of Credit and the most deranged loan shark the galaxy had to offer. She who does the impossible and creates miracles for the price of one’s livelihood.

She, who is currently the master who holds the life of the fallen Oak Family Head in her perfectly manicured hands.

You meet her chilling gaze with steeled eyes. With a deep breath, you force down the lodge in your throat.

“I understand.”

Jade smiles. It is neither threatening nor comforting, although you cannot help but feel unsettled by her calm amusement.

“Most of the Family has turned their back on Mr. Sunday,” she comments, crossing her arms and tapping one nail against her arm. “Why haven’t you, I wonder? Surely, a mere subordinate wouldn’t be so loyal to a traitor of this degree.”

You know better than to answer her. After all, all of her questions are rhetorical - tests. She already knows their answers, she just wants to hear them come from your lips.

But you don’t give her that satisfaction. Your silence is answer enough.

You walk past her and come before a heavily armored vault door. A bit much, in your opinion, for a man who has spent the majority of his life asleep. But he is also the man who had taken control of the Asdana system and nearly ascended into Aeonhood, so this level of security is to be expected.

Hundreds of locks and gears turn before the doors open with a hiss and a billowing of smoke. With a mental prayer to Xipe for strength, you step into the dark cell.

There’s little to no light in the small room, leaving you to wonder how Sunday had managed to stay sane all this time. You already know the cells are essentially soundproof, and with so little light, the Family’s prisoners were shut off from the rest of the world and their senses.

The brief rustle of chains catches your attention, and you turn your gaze to the iron throne at the center of the room.

Oh, how far he has fallen.

Once gleaming gold has lost its luster, reflecting not sympathy nor love like you had known them to, but defeat and a resigned acceptance. Fair skin has become drained and faded like that of a corpse. Feather-like hair, once so meticulously cared for, is ruined and frayed.

Bound are the hands that would never raise against another, and shackled are the wings that have never known flight. Caged is the bird who has known no other home; only now, his gilded shackles have become sullied, ugly, disdainful.

He is hollow, empty in every sense of the word - drained of what little vitality he once had.

“Sir,” comes your whisper. He doesn’t respond.

Your footsteps are heavy as you approach. Sunday’s head is bowed - something his pride would’ve never allowed back in the day.

Once upon a time, you had found his arrogance annoying, hypocritical even. Yet at the same time, it was endearing, knowing that even the perfect and saint-like Sunday had his faults. In a sense, it had brought him down to earth, it had made him human.

Seeing him like this, so despondent and defeated, makes you long for the days where he’d scoff at the IPC or make back-handed compliments for his own sick pleasure.

“Sir,” you repeat. You stop before him, and kneel down to one knee.

Sunday’s eyes flick to meet yours, before dropping down to his lap, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. Out of guilt, or out of scorn, you don’t know.

“Why have you come?”

Your heart aches at his voice. It cracks from the days without use, deeper than his typical chirp.

“I am a sinner, a traitor to the Family.” Not once does he meet your gaze again as he speaks. “Visiting me…”

He exhales.

“You should leave.”

“I won’t.”

His hands clench from where they’re bound to the arms of his throne. Briefly, annoyance flashes over him, before he lets it wash away with a slump of his shoulders.

“It would be easier if you just- left me here,” he says painstakingly. “I am of no use to you anymore - if anything, I am a stain. Abandoning me… is the logical thing to do.”

“You and your logistics,” you sigh. “Did it never once occur to you that I cared for you as a person, and not just as my superior?”

His eyes are shaking. Sunday’s expression is pained, like that of a grieving mother.

“Why?” he asks again, his face straining as he tries to understand. “Why are you here?”

Your answer is simple. “To free you.”

Bitterly, the corners of his lips twitch in a cynical chuckle.

“You of all people should know that I was not meant for freedom,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “That is what you believe. Lady Bonajade and I agree that you deserve to have this chance.”

“Lady Jade, huh?” Resentment flashes in his irises as he scoffs. “So you intend to coerce me into accepting charity from the IPC?”

Hurt pangs at your chest and you flinch. “That isn’t-”

“Spare me the concern,” Sunday spits, turning his head. “I may have fallen, but I still have my pride. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave.”

For a moment, you are speechless. Then you are indignant, and you rise slightly, your brows furrowed.

“Why are you so willing to accept your fate?” you ask, almost angrily.

Sunday exhales. “What else am I expected do?”

“This can’t be how your story ends." Your fist balls up the fabric of your pants in its grip. “Locked away, isolated from the rest of the world - that can’t be what you want. It is too cruel a fate for you.”

For you, who loved humanity so deeply.

“Tell me,” you say, gazing up at the man who had torn his skin and carved his heart for the people. “Tell me you want to be freed, and I will do so. I’ll take care of everything. All I need is for you to say that you want it.”

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers after a moment of silence. “Why, for me…”

“What is there to understand?”

“This is unreasonable,” he starts.

“Not for me, it isn’t,” you say softly. “If it’s for you, nothing is unreasonable.”

His voice raises, trembling upon its crumbling pedestal, panic seeping into every word. “I don’t deserve that kindness - that mercy. I am a sinner, I am a traitor, I am-”

“You are a man worth saving.”

Sunday’s eyes fly open. He stares at you, eyes wide with surprise, his lips parted as to say something, only for the words to die on his tongue.

Your neck is beginning to hurt from how long you’ve been looking up at him, but you push the pain aside.

“The Sunday I knew was kind and gentle,” you say, subconsciously leaning forward. Pent-up emotions, cumulated through the years, begin to bleed into your voice, weighing it down. “He always looked out for the weak, and cared when no one else did. He put others before himself, and even if he was a little arrogant, he was selfless.”

“No,” Sunday protests weakly. “I am not- You- I-”

“You are so much more than you allow yourself to be.”

Rising from the floor, your knees aching slightly, you gently take the face of the fallen angel in your hand. Cradling him like glass, you force him to look at you, to look one of the many he’d betrayed in the face, and see the love for him despite it all.

“Sunday, do you wish for freedom?”

For the many years you’ve worked under him, his eyes have always been a cold gem, calm and unfettered. Never have you seen them glossy with tears, threatening to break at any moment.

You see fear and desire clashing as he grapples for the first time, a choice not for the people, but for himself. You see the beliefs that have been molded into him beginning to crack. You see the caged bird gaze at the world beyond his bars, and for the first time, want to soar beyond them.

Sunday’s lips open and close as he struggles to find the right words to say.

“Where will I go?” he asks instead, tearing his gaze away. It is answer enough.

You smile softly.

“Anywhere you desire.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[madam-kumo]

Locked Dove

Yandere Capitano x Columbina's sister reader

Ah, the beloved older sister of the third harbinger. Your graceful wings matched hers perfectly, white as snow and as soft as a cloud. Those same soft feathers covered your eyes from the world around you, only opening them when you wanted to.

Your elegant nature and relation to a harbinger intrigued the first harbinger. He had heard your sister vaguely singing of you throughout the Zapolyarny palace, her soft and high pitched voice humming your praises in a mezzo piano. Capitano never really thought about the girl's lyrics until he met you himself.

Oh, how lovely you were. The dress, similar to your sister's, covered in lace and layers to conceal your figure from those around him, not that he was complaining. He didn't like those that stared at you during your performances. Your violin would sing for you. It spoke your emotions and dedication to every piece to anyone willing to listen. And, bless the Tsaritsa, did he listen to every single one of them.

He would clap at every performance, knowing full well that he's seen sides and parts of you that no one else in the crowd would even dare to see. And that, was one of the many things that kept him above them. To you, to your sister, everyone. He was above you, always one step ahead. He would pluck any feather from your wonderful wings if it meant you would look at him, love him, just be by his side. And that he did.

Though he just clipped your wings, for once letting Dottore touch you by letting him place specific slices in your wings. But don't worry! You didn't feel a thing, see a thing, because you didn't want to. Capitano made sure you were in a cold sleep, tucked away in the escape of dreams from any pain.

Oh, how you grieved for your flight, for your freedom, but it was okay. Capitano was there to hold you close, hiding your head in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you like a gilded cage.

[elllisaaa]

how seventeen would confess to you - hhu vers.

-> pairing : svt hhu × gn!reader

-> words count : 2.9k words

-> genre : svt members crushing on you, fluff

-> warnings : while make you giggle and kick your feet

-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | svt masterlist

hhu vers. | vu vers. | pu vers.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - INTIMATE

cuddles, cuddles, cuddles !

once he tackled you on the couch or bed and you’re in his arms, you’re not getting up for at least an hour. 

watching long shows together, and you’re forbidden from watching even one episode without him, or he’ll get so pouty. 

big golden retriever energy, he’s always so smiley around you.

but also big on protecting you.

he’s the type to say “dress how you want, i can fight”, and he will definitely fight if needed.

always has an arm around you, making you feel safe in every situation

since both of you are friends since as far as you can remember, he’s like another member of your family.

i can literally picture your aunts asking you when you’re gonna marry him at every gathering lmao

with all of that, the line between friendly and romantic feelings is blurred, but cheol wished he had the courage to fully cross it. 

however, everyone and their mothers knew about his big crush on you, and about yours on him. 

his confession would be so domestic crying because i’m lonely. 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to cross paths with Seungcheol late at night. Just like you, he often got thirsty and you always ended up staying in the kitchen until the early hours of morning, and being sleepy at the family gathering. And this time was not different. Well, it was, in fact, a bit different. You had been aboard for the past year and only got back to Korea a few weeks before, so both of you hadn’t really seen each other and you had a lot to catch up on about your lives. 

“- And after that, this bitch didn’t even dare to look me in the eyes for the rest of the year ! Can you believe this ?

- I don’t like to judge people I don’t know, but she’s indeed a bitch.”

Both of you bursted out in laughter, and your heart felt warmer again. It was as if you were finally complete again. Being away from Seungcheol when he had been by your side for the majority of your life was the most difficult thing you ever had to do, and feeling him slip through your fingers as he started to respond less was horrible. He apologized so many times about how busy he was, and you knew it was not his fault, but still, you just wanted to be back home, back in his arms. 

“- Yeah, she definitely is.”

You landed your head on his shoulder with a smile, and Seungcheol feared that you would hear how fast his heart was beating. He was happy for you when you announced to him that you had the opportunity to go aboard for your studies, and he was immensely proud of you. But at the same time, all he wanted to do was convince you to not go and keep you forever with him. But he was only your best friend, and he couldn’t ask you to give up on your dreams for him. But he wished he could be your boyfriend instead. 

“- I have something to confess…”

You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him as you waited for his next words. Seungcheol eyes’ dived into yours, and he just knew. He knew that this was the right time, that the particular atmosphere surrounding the two of you would certainly never arise again. He had to do it now.

“- The day you left, I came to say goodbye at the airport, remember ?”

You nobbed. How could you not ? He had engulfed you in a big hug  that made you want to stay, and left you with teary eyes as you got on your flight.

“- I never told you what I did after. I drove off to the park we always played at when we were kids, and I cried on the swings for maybe two hours because all I could think about was that you were not with me. And it felt so wrong.”

Your right hand found purchase on his cheek, forcing him to look down at you as he consciously avoided your eyes since he started to tell you his little story. But your soft smile was the only reassurance he needed.

“- It felt wrong being away from you too. I missed you so much Cheol…

- Me too…”

And just like that, you both leaned in at the same time, your lips meeting in between and suddenly, everything felt right again, as if it was where you were supposed to be - in each other arms. 

“next time i’m squeezing myself in your luggage, i don’t want to spend another night without you in my arms.”

JEON WONWOO - SIMPLE

i don’t know how to explain it, but I’m sure you’ll get it when I say that this man is the definition of soft. 

he’s so cozy, every one of his hugs feels like a warm cocoon (that’s why you always find an excuse to get a hug).

very good at giving advice, and a good listener, he’s always there when you need a shoulder to cry on. 

you were friends with the other members at first, but slowly, you started to grow closer when he discovered how sweet and lovely you were. 

the more he talked with you, the more he found himself hooked.

literally has heart eyes for you (everyone and their mothers know about his crush on you) and would drop everything if you need him.

of course, he’ll be more than happy if you agreed to play video games with him, it doesn’t matter if you’re good at it or not 

it’s even better if you never played, he’ll have an excuse to make you sit on his lap while he teaches you how to use the controller. 

but in the end, he’s a simple guy, and he doesn’t see the point of hiding his crush for too long, but he also wants his confession to be meaningful. 

The boys had organized a big party for your birthday this year, and surprisingly, they succeeded at keeping it a secret until tonight. And the past months spent trying to perfect every little detail was worth it when they saw the big smile on your face and your teary eyes when you recognized your friends and family as you walked through the room. 

And even if Wonwoo couldn’t be more happy than seeing you wander around, laughing and smiling non-stop, he felt a weight on his heart. He wanted to steal you away from all these people, have you all for himself and finally tell you how he felt about you, finally tell you how glad he was to have you in his life. But he couldn’t, and he would never do that. He was just waiting patiently for your eyes to meet in the crowd, and for you to smile brightly at him. Every time you did that, his heart beat faster. 

“- Finally ! I’m so happy that everyone came, but I’m exhausted !

- I can imagine, you’ve been running around the whole night.”

You sighed dramatically as you seated yourself on the couch next to Wonwoo, resting your head on his shoulder. Like a habit, he put his arms around you, bringing you closer to him, just because you were so comfortable around each other that everyone else thought you were already dating. 

“- It’s the best surprise of my life. You guys are my favorites. Thank you for doing this for me.

- You deserved it, that and all the presents we prepared for you.”

You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him with a sparkle of curiosity in your eyes. 

“- And what’s yours Wonwoo ?”

He had planned to do it later, when everyone would have left, when he’ll have a moment alone with you. But if this wasn’t a sign that he had to do it now, he didn’t know what it was.

“- It’s not something material. It’s more… Spiritual I’ll say.

- It’s intriguing, tell me what it is.

- My heart. I’m offering you my heart, because you already have it, you did for a long time now, and I wanted to let you know, just in case you were feeling the same about me.”

Wonwoo knew how emotional you could get, but he didn’t expect you to cry from his confession. Still, he wiped your tears away, waiting for you to calm down with a soft smile on his face.

“- I feel the same, I’ve been feeling the same for so long. You have my heart too.”

“I’ll take care of it, I promise. I’ll always protect you.”

KIM MINGYU - JOYFUL

100% golden retriever energy

you would often tease him along with the members (because we all know that seventeen ultimate goal is to make fun of mingyu)

partner privilege : would not get as pouty as with his members, all it takes is a smile from you and you’re forgiven.

however, when you tease him about how being so muscular but so afraid of everything is a shame, he’ll be like a child throwing a tantrum. 

pouting until you compliment him (and cannot stop blushing once you do, he’s so cute someone help me).

tries to impress you all the time by flexing his muscles, showing how strong he is. 

he’s so obvious please, this boy cannot hide his love for you.

follows you everywhere like a lost puppy, just in case you need him (he’s adorable).

he feels so comfortable around you because beyond all the teasing, you’re very understanding and kind. 

you’re always here to remind him how amazing he is every time he doubts himself. 

and because he feels so comfortable around you, his confession would slip like it was the most natural thing ever. 

Mingyu always had a tendency to show off his skills whenever you were in the same room as him. Yes, he felt an incredible ego boost when you complimented him about his muscles, but what he took real pride in was how much he was able to make you laugh. He always feared that his jokes were lame, or just not your type of humor, but every time he cracked one, you bursted into giggles. And by the way you were beaming, there was no way that you were faking it. 

And he always managed to make you laugh in all types of situations, chuckling and resisting the urge of kicking his feet like a teenager everytime you hitted his shoulder playfully as you tried to contain your own giggles. Mingyu was addicted to the way your eyes were glowing with joy everytime you just smiled. However, he discovered that the easiest way to get you to laugh was to tell you all the stupid things his members did. Like now, as you were crying from how funny you found the story of Seungkwan volley ball. 

“- He really only discovered it when he saw that video ?

- Yeah, really ! You should’ve seen the betrayal in his eyes, it was priceless !”

And you were laughing again, your head thrown back, tears almost spilling out of your eyes. But Mingyu wasn’t laughing anymore, too lost in his contemplation, because you were literally a work of art to him. Every single detail about you was perfect, the more he discovered, the more he wanted to be yours.

“- Your smile is so beautiful, gosh… I love you so much…”

The melody of your giggles died as soon as you registered the meaning of his words. Silence enveloped the both of you as you stared at him as if you were trying to enter his mind and find all the answers to your questions. And Mingyu was forcing himself to keep his mouth shut, and not embarrass himself further, already cursing himself in his head for being so careless.

“- Wha- What did you say ?”

Mingyu was too focused on his overthinking to notice the little grin spreading on your lips. Of course, you already knew that he had a crush on you. Of course, you had a crush on him too because who doesn’t ? And of course, it was very cute to watch him stumble over his words with red cheeks. 

“- I-I said that you have a beautiful smile…

- And after that ?

- Don’t want to tell you.”

You giggled as you leaned in to peck his warm cheeks, restraining yourself from going in for his pouty lips too.

“- Well, just know that I love you so much too Gyu.”

“see, you heard it perfectly ! but i’ll tell you a hundred times if you want me to.”

CHWE HANSOL - BRIGHT

he’s so random, like one minute he could joke along with you and the other he’s asking you the most existential question possible, fully serious about it. 

like we say vernon is just vernoning in the most vernon way possible. 

he's very chill about pretty much everything so it's really soothing to be around him.

he's your go-to person when you want to isolate yourself from the rest of the world because you could spend evenings just watching tv and not saying a word to each other

there's also times where both of you end up talking about your lives until the early hours of the morning. 

your relationship feels like it's all natural, there has never been an awkward state, only comfort. 

it's like hansol had known you for years because he felt so at ease every time you were with him. 

you made him feel like he was special and normal at the same time, and even if he doesn't show it often, he really appreciates it. 

you two liked to stay inside so it was rare for you to go out somewhere, but it was always unexpected and when it happened. 

hansol knew that you liked to be surprised, and often showed up on his days off to take you somewhere without telling you.

that's why you weren't shocked when he picked you up at 5 in the morning, on a random Sunday. 

“- Can I at least choose the music ?

- Go on.”

Hansol handed you his phone which was connected to the speakers of his car, letting you put on whatever song you wanted. He owed you this with how early he forced you to get out of bed on one of your days off. But he really wanted to take you to this spot he loved. He played it off as one of his random wishes, but he planned this in his mind for a long time, not all the details, but he knew he wanted to bring you there to tell you how he felt. 

He watched with a small smile on his lips as you opened the window, one of your favorite songs playing as you let the wind hit your face and make your hair fly all over your face. Hansol quickly focused on the road again, seeing that he was near your destination, he asked you to close your eyes.

“- Are we there ?

- Almost.”

The rest of the way was quiet, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. When you finally felt that Hansol had stopped the car, you heard him go out of the driver seat to get to your side and help you get out too, ordering you to keep your eyes closed. He pushed you to take some steps forward before he finally authorized you to see what was in front of you.

“- You took me to the ocean ?”

You didn’t even turn around to look at him, too entranced by the sight in front of you. And all Hansol could do was smile when he saw how parkly your eyes were. 

“- I guess that I wanted you to see the sunset.”

You were rather speechless as Hansol got a blanket out of his car, leading you to the beach for you two to watch the sunrise on the horizon. He contemplated you as you ran around, touching the water to see if it was cold or not before finally sitting down beside him, your head finding his place on his shoulder, and his arms around yours.

“- Thank you for bringing me there… It’s beautiful…

- I wanted to make it special.”

Before you could even ask him what he was talking about, Hansol leaned in, his eyes fixed on your lips, and yours on his. Basking in the warm light of the sunset, he kissed you for the first time but certainly not the last, a smile spreading on his face as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“i think i could get used to this.”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @iraisswiftie

[pointlesscandies]

GMMTV 2025

Dare you to Death: Joongdunk: rival investigators, crime drama, they have to catch a serial killer. Baby Ohm is here too

Head to Head: SeaKeen: frenemies to lovers set in college with death premonitions thrown in

I Love a Lot of you: Nanon straight romance where he has to "cure" love interest suffering from dissociative identity disorder

Burnout Syndrome: OffGun: Gun is an escort and artist hired by businessman Off to help deal with customers, love triangle with Dew

Whale Store: MilkLove: Milk inherits her fathers store, meets Love, they must work together to make it successful

Only Friends Dream on: OhmLeng, EarthMix, Jossfluke as actors and musicians putting on a play with all the drama you can imagine

That Summer: WinnySatang: Satang is a prince in disguise, Winny becomes his caretaker after an accident

My Romance Scammer: JuniorMark OhmFluke: Con artists falling in love with their victims. There’s weddings involved.

Melody of Secrets: ForceBook: crime drama/psychological horror with dopplegangers

Love you Teacher: PerthSanta: established boyfriends until an accident causes Santa to lose his memories and think he's a kid again

Mu-te-Luv: Ensamble cast: 7 love stories revolving around fate, fortune, and magic (seakeen, and ohmleng have stories)

Cat for Cash: FirstKhaotung: Debt collector who can talk to cats ends up running a cat cafe with Khaotung

Girl Rules: NamtamFilm, MilkLove, ViewMim: Messy lesbians, models and actresses

Boys in Love: PaulKen, PapangPodd, ChokunAston, MickLuke: High school romances with Papang and Podd as teachers

My Magic Prophesy: JimmySea, FrancTee: Doctor and fortune teller flee from someone who is trying to kill them and must hide out together

A Dog and a Plane: TayNew, MarkPoon: EMT and flight attendant, messy enemies to lovers with Poon playing New's cheating boyfriend

Me and Thee: PondPhuwin: Photographer Phuwin accidentally gets involved with rich, troubled Mafia wannabe who begins to pursue him

Wu: Sky and Nani: Dark fated soulmates

Memoir of Rati: GreatInn, AouBoom: Moody period drama, teacher and bureaucrat, forbidden love

Ticket to Heaven: GeminiFourth: A Catholic seminary student struggles with his faith while falling in love with bad boy Gemini

[1for5]

TO ALL THE GIRLS I’VE LOVED BEFORE

paige bueckers x uconn student!reader

with caitlin clark, aubrey griffin, nika muhl, and emily engstler

───────── ⋆⋅🏀⋅⋆ ─────────

PROLOGUE

ch 1 ch 2

Y/n’s always been into books, poems, and anything literature. As someone who is shy, the stories she read accompanied her throughout middle school and even through college.

She had a lot of books surrounding her room, and she spent her free time at the library the most. She is now currently at her house, fixing her messy room before she goes back to her college, UCONN, before the school year starts.

Another fact about Y/n is that she keeps everything. All the notes from her friends, all the receipts she’s gotten, she keeps it all in a box. To add, she also keeps her memories of her past crushes safely. Y/n has a box full of letters addressing to her past crushes. She in total has 4 letters, each letter has a different emotion and meaning to it.

The 4 letters are addressed to: (1) Aubrey Griffin. South Carolina Basketball Player. Y/n had Model UN with her in high school, but Aubrey quit to focus more on her basketball dreams. Aubrey had an aura which made Y/n attracted to her during their MUN days. Y/n and Aubrey were quite close, and became good friends when you both learned that you will be going to the same college. She had a good basketball career in UCONN, but decided to transfer to South Carolina. She is still doing great.

(2) Caitlin Clark. Iowa Basketball player. Y/n had a good time with her during their junior halloween party. They both dressed quite silly, which brought them to talk to each other. Y/n felt seen for the first time.

(3) Paige Bueckers. UCONN basketball player.. She was Y/n’s first kiss. Going back to grade 6, Y/n knew her as her (then) bestfriend’s crush, and apparently the whole population in school has been crushing too. Y/n and her (then) bestfriend were invited to their first party and when they arrived, a truth or dare has been going on. When it was Y/n’s turn, Paige’s friend dared her to kiss Paige. Y/n was hesitating, and Paige was the one to come closer to Y/n, closing the gap. Y/n’s bestfriend felt hatred, while Y/n felt something different, which she shrugged off.

And (4). Emily Engstler. WNBA Connecticut Suns player. Her first girl friend, with a space. She is her neighbor, a good basketball player, and her childhood bestfriend, however, things changed when emily started dating Y/n’s sister, Nika. It was a bit of a heartbreak for Y/n, as she liked Emily ever since childhood days, all until up to Y/n just getting over Emily for her sister.

The last fact about Y/n is that—her letters are missing. Gone and out of the box.

“Nia? NIA!” She called her little sister, and asked her if she knew anything about the papers inside of the box.

“No..” she answered. Y/n groaned out of frustration, looking everywhere for her letters. The letters she made had the dorm addresses of her past crushes.

After moments of looking, Y/n was called to dinner. She sat on the table, along with Nia, Nika, Emily, and her dad. Her mom unfortunately passed away when she was little, and they all surely miss her.

As they were eating, Nika shared that she will be moving from UCONN to Iowa. She is an amazing basketball player, along with Emily. Maybe she started your exposure to the basketball players you used to have eyes on.

Emily was surely happy for Nika, but somehow got sad with the sudden decision. Nika then called out Emily and went to the living area to talk to her.

After an hour, Y/N felt defeated, hoping that the letters will come back to you or are in a garbage bag. She got her suitcases ready for her flight back to UCONN tomorrow.

While finishing up packing, Nika knocked on Y/n’s door. “Emily didn’t take it well?” she asked Nika, who replied back with a nod. “I know long distance is hard. I had to end it too. Mom didn’t want specifically me to get a partner while in college, and I really have to focus on basketball now.” Nika gave her little sister a hug. “You what?” Y/n was confused, Nika and Emily were surely so in love with each other. Y/n comforted Nika, and they both slept after being tired the whole day.

The following day, the girls’ dad brought Nika and Y/n to the airport to get ready for a new school year. They all bid their goodbyes, and went to the different terminals as the two sisters are now in separate colleges and states.

While waiting to board, Y/n was listening to songs with her headphones. A tall blonde figure then came into her view. “Emily. Hi.” Y/n spoke. “Hi. Ready for a new year?” The basketball player asked, putting down her personal belongings.

“Yeah. Hey.. even if your trip didn’t end well, thank you for visiting. Hope you have a fun time with Connecticut Suns.” Y/n removed her headphones and had a conversation with Emily.

“Flight to Connecticut, now boarding.”

After the flight, Y/n and Emily bid their goodbyes and gave each other a “good luck.” Their friendship may have faded away due to relationships, basketball, and college, but they will always care for each other, just like when they were 5/6 years old playing with toys.

-

A week later, Y/n was running around the field for her P.E. Class, which she hated the most. As she was running, a familiar face was walking towards her.

“Hey look Y/n uhm. I just got out of a relationship, and..” the figure stated. Y/n felt confused. Why is Paige Bueckers suddenly talking again to her after years of not talking to each other?

“What? What do you mean?” Y/n stopped her tracks. “The letter was nice but, I don’t like you like that L/n.” Paige explained, showing Y/n an envelope addressed to Paige’s dorm.

It all made sense to Y/n now. She didn’t expect for her letters to actually be sent out, and it’s giving her a small panic attack. “Look, you do not get it..” Y/n began to explain, however, her voice stops when she sees another tall blonde figure walking, Emily, holding a letter that is most likely Y/n’s “love” letter to her. Did Emily drove here just to show the letter? Y/n thought.

“Holy shit” Y/n stated, and pulled Paige Bueckers into a kiss. That was Y/n’s first kiss that is not from a party game, and she did not know how to act.

Paige also did not know how to act, and just went with the flow. After about seconds seconds seconds of their small “makeout” session, Y/n pulled away.

“You run not kiss! Why is Bueckers here? And Y/n! Another lap for you.” The P.E. Teacher fumed and rolled their eyes.

“I am sorry.. and thank you!” Y/n awkwardly said and started to run her lap, which left Paige dumbfounded.

[goldsbitch]

Hypochondria

The emotions and glimpses of daily life of this random girl followed Lando throughout his whole. Whenever she's sad, he knows. Her celebrations sort of become his celebrations. For him, it's like breathing - just another part of his life. That is until he meets her.

soulmate au

Lando knew the moment he saw her. And it was at that point when he thought he was truly going crazy.

For his whole life, he thought it was just some fantasy that he planted in his mind in early age and was impossible to get rid off.

He froze completely. Panicked, went into fight or flight mode, these two fighting each other so hard that he just stood there, staring like a creep. Thank god she was far away enough and probably did not notice.

His second immediate reaction was anger. Did she really not notice him? The audacity? How can she roam around his brain for his whole life and then not react when she sees him? Her being in the paddock meant that she definitely knew who he was, people don't just end up by chance there.

Except maybe she did. Her outfit gave away that she was one of the medics from the medical team. Of course she would be. Saving lives, doing something proper meaningful. Not driving around in circles and making a big deal out of it, like he did. Never in his life did he feel as selfish and sort of shameful for his choice of career.

He began to insert ideas into her head, despite not having spoken a single word to her. She was probably someone who valued intelligence, people who were book smart, humble heroes in the society who were focus on dedicating their lives to saving others.

Not those who were recklessly driving around in circles. There was no way she'd see him fit to her. That was not going to stop him. Her being one of the medics provided a great opportunity. Hypochondria? So be it.

His mind was spiraling out of control.

//

For as long as he could remember, he had dreams (and something he would not dare call visions) about this one girl. As if he was watching glimpses of her life, little moments, bits and pieces. But it was almost constant. He was so used to it at this point that he found it relaxing. It was very confusing growing up. Every adult around him was freaking out when his childhood imaginary friend phase would just not go away. So once he realized that people were thinking he's weird, he just stopped talking about it. It was also a big revelation to him when he found out that other people did not have these visions in their head so intensively. When he was 17 he had an obsession phase, where he researched the fuck out of how brains worked, but nothing seemed to match. His dreams did not provide him with anything specific, no details about place, vague signs that this person he kept seeing at least lived in the same time frame as he did. It was little things he saw and felt, as if her emotions traveled to him. He'd seen her happy, laughing with friends while she tried weed for the first time, getting nervous by her exams and debating whether to brush her teeth in the evening. Her becoming a medic now finally answered few questions. Often he would wonder why was she studying so much. His blurry dreams blocking these specifics out, just to make it all more frustrating. Observing her having a crush on someone was unnerving and eventually, seeing little things from her romantic relationship, just made him supremely mad. He was glad that was over, because at one point, it had started to seriously mess up his mood. He genuinely celebrated the break up. Incredible amounts of little moments and details were conveyed to him, but no idea on where or who she was. He just had this knowledge in his head about someone who he doubted actually existed.

And now she was probably standing right across the track. It was a lot to take in.

//

Most of the medical team traveled with them, as far as Lando was aware. Never really paid that much of attention to that department until then. So he figured he's only have few days to capture her attention, she might have been local. He was already contemplating moving here to join her life, in case she was local. That's when he decided to get a full medical check up upon request.

He complained nonstop about a pain in his stomach - vague enough for many possibilities having to be ruled out.

It quickly started feeling like playing a video game. Having to jump through levels in order to get to his "boss".

He spent an hour in the medical centre, where he was taken immediately after his first comment about his fictional pain, because everyone still had in fresh memory the saga of Carlos's appendix. "This is gonna be easy" he thought to himself, because one of the first people he saw passing by was her. He was not even trying to hide when observing her. The way her hair fell out of a messy bun. A concentrated look as she was attending one of the staff members, listening attentively and taking care of their wound. The whole place seemed to glow up by her presence. He wondered how it felt when her fingertips touched the skin of another person and was almost jealous of the person she was treating. On par with his bad luck, the drivers had a dedicated doctor on-call, so he was taken to a different private room where he had to undergo a full medical scan, with of course nothing being found. When he got out, she was no longer there. All for nothing.

//

The rest of his day was covered in a brain fog, he sort of floated through the media day, feeling like he was not really there. He let Oscar totally step up to be the main star this time. As if he could give a fuck.

Over the years of having to live with this strange connection, he managed to block it out temporarily for moment when he really need to focus. This time, he was doing the exact opposite. Trying to somehow "connect" to this personal bluetooth he had in his head.

Finally, after few hours he felt something. A light wave of anxiety, as she opened her email. Then a wave of disappointment, despair and her giving up. He was more than able to not get affected by her emotions - usually. This time it was sort of in tune with his own mix of emotions, so if he was a downer before it progressed perfectly into him shutting off completely.

//

He managed to completely forget that his latest girlfriend, if that was the right word to use, was coming over. He only realized when he saw a pair of female shoes thrown by the door of his hotel room. A wave of guilt washed over him. He was being an asshole again. As they greeted each other, he tried to kiss her as much as he could, trying to avoid unnecessary conversation. Maybe this reality check was good. He often got lost in his own head, listening sad songs to fill this strange void - or he would just party too much. Now, there was a real person standing in front of him, a super hot girl who liked him and was not annoying. He figured there was no point in drowning in his own delusions.

Letting her fuck his brains out worked, at least until the next morning.

part 2

[jenscx]

HAPPINESS — yu jimin x f!reader

jimin made you feel like life was worth living for.

TAGS — situationship, strangers to lovers, ive member!yn, jealousy, angst, fluff, birthday fic for jimin

WORDCOUNT — 3.8k

it hadn’t been long since you and karina met. by luck, she was attending a fashion show and had gravitated to you during the after-party. it was an unforgettable experience; one of the most gorgeous idols constantly hovering around you, eyes lingering on the silky black, backless dress you adorned, fingers dancing across your arms… needless to say, you had immediately asked for her contact information, only to receive a cryptic smile in return.

“why not just,” she whispered, “come back to my place instead?”

you had instantly declined, “i’m sorry, i don’t do that. and don’t you live with your members anyway?” karina merely shrugged, eyes twinkling with a gleam you couldn’t name. 

“then shouldn’t we go back to yours?”

exasperated, you shake your head, “i just said, i don’t do that. i was interested before, and you are jaw-droppingly beautiful, but i’m not intending to go anywhere tonight, karina.”

the girl hesitated for a few seconds. you raised an eyebrow. she grins, “call me jimin.”

it had only been a month since that interaction. since then, your relationship has progressed. from strangers to friends and now tethering on the edge of a relationship. or as your member yujin had described, a ‘situationship’. it was so easy to open up to jimin, her sweet talk, midnight chats and relentless insistence to annoy you had captured your attention. she was so stupidly cute. 

you had fallen. 

and jimin seemed to have as well. 

no one would stay up till midnight talking to a situationship unless they really liked them, right? 

and even though jimin had a schedule the next day, you and her were still in a heated discussion about which ice cream flavour was the superior one (it was always vanilla).

the alarm on your phone rang. in bright words read, ‘milan fashion show.’ you smile to yourself. it was another chance to see jimin after her hectic schedule. you barely had time to see her during her break, and now your schedules finally matched up. you couldn’t wait to see her.

jiminie [7.41am]:

hihihi good morning

i’ll see u ltr :))

ynie [8.20am]:

morning!

can’t wait. 

you turn your phone off with a bright grin, barely keeping your excitement under wraps. your flight was at 10 and by the time you reached milan, it would be around 11 in the evening. it was going to be a long flight, but the thought of seeing jimin again made your stomach tighten up. was this what people in relationships feel? it was so bizarre that the simple thought of someone could so easily make you feel breathless. 

unable to contain your exhilaration, you get some weird stares from your manager and assistants. meekly apologising, you close your eyes as they drive to the airport, dreaming of a certain main dancer.

you blink. how did you get here?

jimin, was just standing a few feet away from you, but she had barely spared you a glance the whole day. she didn’t even greet you or anything. even after the crew had asked for you two to stand together, jimin was at least a metre away, not daring to stand in your vicinity. you could cry.

especially with the heart eyes every other person was sending her way. you swallow the lump in your throat, staring at the man who stood a little close for comfort next to her. and throughout the show, you could only stare longingly at the back of her head, sighing every once in a while when the two of them would pose. it was devastating.

“you good?” one of the other attendants asked. you think you recognise them from a recent drama you’ve watched.

“yeah,” you mumble, taking a sip of the champagne in your glass. at the corner of your eye, you could see jimin and that man conversing, both sharing giggles and whispers. your grip on the glass tightens. groaning, you look away, trying to hide the hurt on your face from being ignored so obviously. all your attempts at conversation had been shut down and she brushed past all your waves.

you saunter to the corner, taking a seat and pulling out your phone.

yujin [9.27pm]:

how’s it gg

yn [10.14pm]:

it’s like i don’t even exist.

i don’t know what i should do

she keeps talking to some guy

yujin [10.15pm]:

girl gtfo

you agree with yujin. if karina wanted to ignore you, so be it. there was nothing for you to do anyway. after sending a quick message to your manager, you get back up, heading back to the group of actors and idols alike that were engaged in conversation.

coincidentally, karina and her partner for the night had joined as well. it wasn’t difficult to avoid eye contact when she wouldn’t even look in your direction.

“i’ve requested for more champagne,” one of them say, “anybody wants a refill?”

a murmur of chorus emerges.

the waiter stares at your glass expectantly, the bottle in his hand waiting.

“ah… no, i’m leaving soon,” you say awkwardly, handing your glass to another waiter passing by. karina’s head shoots up.

“shame,” they all agree.

“your manager’s picking you up?” karina finally speaks. you longed for her voice, but you’re not very appreciative of it now.

you nod, barely wanting to start a conversation with the girl.

“i’ll walk you out.”

can you really refuse in front of all these people? you already had a reputation of being a bitch. refusing karina’s offer was going to severely damage your image.

you just hold your tongue.

the cold air greets you warmly, unlike karina. you relish in the gusts of wind, waiting patiently outside the gala for your manager’s distinguishable car. karina hums a gentle tune, turning to you.

“how was the show?”

“good,” you reply, curt.

karina doesn’t back down.

“you had fun?” you nod.

“i didn’t get to talk to you at all, it’s sad you’re leaving now.”

you shrug.

“why are you leaving so early?”

“tired.”

“hm, okay.”

you stand in silence while karina fidgets beside you, her hands constantly twirling her hair and eyes darting around. cursing yourself, you take a quick glance at her. the girl’s deep, lush and dark hair flows charmingly in the wind. her eyes draw you in, hypnotising you deeply, full of uncertainty and hesitance for the first time you’ve met her.

“do you have something to say?” you ask. karina huffs, blowing her bangs covering her eyes.

“i do, but it just depends if you’ll listen to me.”

“depends on what you’re asking for,” you reply.

karina smiles, smaller than before, “stay. just for a few more minutes. with me.”

you contemplate. just for a few minutes.

“only until my manager comes.”

she falters, it’s the first time you’ve ever subtly rejected her company, but a practised mask of indifference is put on.

there’s an uncomfortable silence, one that neither of you are willing to acknowledge. you start to regret your decision; you should have just asked her to go back in, instead of waiting out here with you like a fool.

“minjeong’s been talking about this milan cathedral, called duomo di milano, it’s really pretty,” karina looks at you expectantly, “do you have the day off tomorrow for sightseeing?”

you answer slowly, “i do have the day off...”

“where are you staying? i’ll come pick you up.”

“but i don’t want to go, karina,” you complete your sentence. shock passes her face rather quickly.

“uhm, do you want to go somewhere else?”

you shake your head, wanting her to get the hint that you weren’t exactly jumping for the opportunity to hang out.

“we could go shopping at this galleria that aeri mentioned, it has a hotel and everything.”

“no, thanks for offering.”

karina’s tethering on the edge of distress, her face showing visible distraught by now, no longer caring to hide behind a mask of impassiveness. you check your phone again. notifications line your lock screen, most of them coming from yujin.

yujin [10.29pm]:

are u out of there yet

make sure to get back safe

also call me ltr i need to tell u smth

omg jiwon js told me she left seo at home alone

you smile at yujin messages. the leader’s caring nature makes your heart warm and the mention of your other members makes you miss them.

“your manager texting you?” karina asks.

“uh, no,” you reply vaguely, not very keen on talking to her. karina frowns.

“are you sick? do you feel unwell?” she lifts a hand up to touch your neck. the fleeting touch of her fingers already caused goosebumps against your skin.

“i’m fine, karina.”

the mention of her name makes her glare at you, “didn’t i say to call me jimin?”

unable to answer coherently, you settle for silence. karina huffs, seemingly getting irritated.

she opens her mouth once again, but the honk of a car distracts you. the window rolls down and you recognise your manager.

“thanks for uhm, staying here with me,” you bow, “have a good night.” you were upset, but that wouldn’t stop you from being polite.

karina merely watches you leave.

your manager gives you about five minutes of peace and tranquillity before unleashing an onslaught of questions onto you, like “why’d you leave?” or “did someone say something to you?” you answer truthfully to most of his questions.

unable to get a proper response, he just drives back and tells you to not get into any trouble on your day-off.

(“what trouble would i even get into?”

“i’ll actually quit if dispatch posts a photo of you drinking with your friends.”

“that would be impossible since i don’t have any friends.”)

meanwhile, yujin fills you in on the stupid shit your members get up to during your absence. like rei putting aluminium into the microwave and wonyoung just managing to stop her in time.

your phone lights up with notifications throughout the night and you hate the fact that it doesn’t bring you the same excitement like before. the morning after, a chain of messages graces your phone.

jiminie [9.17am]:

are u awake?

jiminie [9.20am]:

when are u gg back to korea?

hello?

ynie [9.31am]:

tmrw

jiminie [9.31am]:

do u feel like gg out tdy?

you turn off your phone, sighing. you would have felt bad for being so distant but the mere thought of karina with that guy yesterday night made you feel unneeded. why was she texting you and asking to hang out with you when she already had someone to go to?

there was no point overthinking about her.

karina would just be another failed situationship. she didn’t mean that much to you (she did). she wasn’t the first thing you thought of once you woke up (she was). and she definitely couldn’t be a good girlfriend for you (she definitely could be).

the hotel doorbell rings. you quirk an eyebrow, not remembering ever ordering room service. maybe your manager knew you wouldn’t be going out for breakfast.

you don’t bother checking the peephole, the hotel you were staying at was very tight on security and only celebrities stayed at this floor. you open the door, stomach grumbling at the thought of food.

“yn.”

oh.

karina stands at your door, a small smile on her face. you feel terribly underdressed compared to her in your bathrobe and messy bed hair.

“good morning,” you greet hoarsely.

“hurry up and get dressed.”

you stop karina from entering your room.

“what are you talking about?”

“we’re going out whether you like it or not. you shouldn’t rot in your room, you should be exploring milan, before you leave, with me.”

do you really have a choice to say no? (yes, you do).

in your heart, you knew in the end, you wouldn’t ever say no to karina.

“okay.”

she grins and you forget why you were even upset in the first place.

karina waits patiently while you finish getting ready. she’s on the balcony admiring the view when you’re done.

“where are we going?” you grab a mask and a cap as karina puts on her shoes again.

“it’s a surprise, and you don’t need those,” karina answers, pointing at the items in your hand. you frown.

“people will recognise me. they’ll see me with you.”

karina shakes her head, “it’s fine, i don’t mind it.”

i mind it though.

you end up leaving them by your bedside table.

“where are we going?” you repeat as karina drags you out of the door. she groans, “stop asking! i already told you it’s a surprise.”

“i need to tell my manager.”

karina pouts, “i’ve already contacted him, just stop worrying about everything.”

her words seem so easy to believe now. to stop worrying about everything.

the streets of milan are filled with cafes and luxury brands. with it being one of the most visited cities, tourists and locals alike roam the area. at every corner, there’s either an art gallery or museum. you must admit that the architecture is simply amazing. quaint bookstores and coffee shops provide a sense of peace away from the bustling metropolitan city. milan was beautiful.

karina pulls you into a cafe, the strong aroma of coffee already filling your senses. there’s a quiet ambience of chatter and the soft footsteps of the waiters walking around. the girl brings you to one of the tables near the window. it gives you a view of a clothing shop adjacent to the cafe, full of customers.

“milan’s called a fashion capital,” karina remarks, “it’s one of europe’s most dynamic cities.” when you don’t reply, karina stands up, awkwardly saying, “i’ll go order our food.”

you nod.

she comes back soon, red in the face and fumbling with her wallet.

you ignore it.

“uhm, anyway, did you sleep well last night?”

“yeah.”

“okay… uh, what time is your flight tomorrow?”

“i think it’s in the morning,” you feel pity for karina who’s been desperately trying to keep the conversation going, “what about you?”

karina’s face lights up, “it’s at one in the afternoon.”

the waiter soon arrives with your food. its mouth-watering. karina hands the waiter a note and says something in italian that you don’t understand.

“you can speak italian?” you ask, curiosity taking over you.

“yeah, a little,” karina mumbles. she doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, so you don’t bother asking any more. you gorge yourself out with the pastries that karina ordered, all while she looks a little constipated and unsure.

“you’re not going to eat?”

“i… i already ate before coming here.”

you nod, continuing to chew.

“it’s so early, who’s awake to even eat with?”

karina mutters, “i ate with jaewook.” you swallow the piece of bread in your mouth. the sweetness you tasted on your tongue is gone, just left with a bitter taste. you regret even asking her. you regret coming out of your hotel to eat pastries with her at 9 in the morning.

your head feels clouded. it’s not only gravity pulling you down. it’s a wrangling chain clutching your heart, pulling it into your stomach. the more you think about karina and that guy together, the more you feel like puking out all the sweet treats you stuffed your mouth with. you wanted to get rid of anything related to her.

“are you okay?” she asks.

no, you want to reply.

“i wanna go back,” you say instead.

lying was always better than telling her the truth.

“what? no, uhm,” karina blurts out, panicked, “you can’t go back yet, we still have a lot to sightsee.”

“please let me go back,” you beg, feeling a wave of nausea take over. between her incessant pleading to not leave and the vision of the two of them, jealousy fills your every vein.

“i planned a lot for today and oh my god, yn—” you can’t stand it anymore.

swiftly, you take out a wad of cash, placing it on the table and leaving the cafe without a second look behind. you stomp out quick, steady steps back to the hotel and you can feel karina hot on your heels. she calls out for your name, but to no avail do you turn back. you think of a plan. once you get back to your room, you’re going to block karina on everything. she’s never going to exist in your life ever again. if your job requires you to interact with her, it’s a bare minimum. you’ll break off contact with all of your mutual friends, ryujin, minjeong, maybe chaewon (but yujin and wonyoung would kill you).

it’s only when you reach a traffic light that karina catches up with you. once it flashes red, you groan. you can basically see karina’s triumphant smirk at the corner of your eye.

“are you done running now?”

you take a good look at karina. she’s panting, not more than you are, and her cheeks are flushed red.

the light flashes green.

“no.”

and the chase begins again.

karina tails you until you reach the hotel lobby. you open up your purse, searching for the keycard. karina is just a few steps behind.

you hear gasps of recognition behind you, the very reason you wanted to cover up your identity.

the moment the lift reaches the ground floor, you slide in, rapidly pressing the close button. karina, however, navigates through the crowd and manages to reach the lift in time.

you groan, your attempt at running away has failed. maybe you could still convince karina to leave you alone somehow. she wouldn’t try to break into your room, right?

“this is awkward now.”

“yeah, i wasn’t expecting you to follow me,” you sneer, “if a woman says she wants to leave, just let her leave for god’s sake.”

“okay, that’s my fault but you literally left out of nowhere, and you’ve been acting weird ever since last night,” karina argues back.

the lift beeps. you exit it with karina following you closely behind, still ongoing about your sudden change in behaviour.

“like last night, you left early and we didn’t even have time to talk or anything, and when i asked you about it you didn’t even explain anything?! just brushed me off and left! can you just tell me what’s going on?”

you two reach your room.

“i don’t need to explain myself to you. i said i was tired.”

“okay, but what about today? i planned the whole day for us to hang out and you just got up and left? what the hell! are you just an asshole who plays with people’s feelings? you told me you ‘can’t wait to see me’ and then just left like that,” karina raises her voice. a elderly couple passes you two and you feel self-conscious. you were just standing outside your room letting karina yell at you.

“come in then yell, you’re getting weird looks.”

karina inhales sharply, finally calming down.

you sit down on one of the lounge chairs, taking a deep breath.

“i really don’t have anything to explain to you. i’m sorry. and i’m not the one playing with people’s feelings here.”

“what? are you insinuating that i’m the one playing with your feelings?”

“uh, if the shoe fits?”

karina slaps your arm, “are you serious right now? can you just talk to me for once?! is this your first time being friends with someone?” friends? since when were you ever just friends with karina?

“no, it isn’t,” you swallow, “it’s my first time feeling this way for someone.”

“what?”

“do you know how many times i think about you in a day? it’s once, because i never stop. it hurts me every time i see you with someone else and i know i shouldn’t feel this way because while you reside in my mind, i have to hope that I cross yours once in a while to feel less pathetic of myself. do you know how that feels? to want to exist in someone’s thoughts. i feel happy just to know that you’re even acknowledging my presence. but you didn’t. you didn’t even care when i was there, so you shouldn’t care when i’m not,” the weight of unshed tears came pouring out. you let out a watery but hollow laugh. karina makes your heart ache, she makes you feel defeated and useless, she makes you feel angry and jealous.

“you make me feel that life is worth living for. that i went through all those torturous years just to meet you.”

karina, is life in itself.

“and i don’t think i’ll ever be able to find someone else that makes me feel this way. have you ever felt that way about someone?”

she stares at you, unblinking. she comes to terms with your words finally.

“i’m sorry,” she says.

“it’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping your tears.

“i’m sorry i hurt you.”

“of course you’ll hurt me. of course we’ll hurt each other, because this is the condition of living. and what’s not love, if not living for each other?”

“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

you sigh, “regret is a stupid thing. when you reject me, i would be better off knowing that we wouldn’t work out because you don’t like me, rather than me not telling you and wondering if we would ever work out. and you’re with that guy anyway.”

“who told you i would reject you? and who said i was with him?”

“oh.”

“i feel everything that you’ve just said, about you. and i’m upset that you were planning to just throw me away like that because of our inability to communicate.”

you laugh, more heartily this time, “i just didn’t want to be one of your conquests or whatever.”

“you’re more than one of my conquests. i wouldn’t dream of even letting you go. some people search their whole lives to find what i found in you. you can be assured that i won’t ever let you go.”

her sincere words draw red to your cheeks, warmth spreads from your neck to the tip of your ears. “you still like me,” you repeat, “even when i’m a jealous freak, have commitment issues and i care too much?”

“even with all those traits. if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be the yn i like,” karina’s voice softens as does her touch. she takes your hand in hers, caressing the back of your hand with her palm.

“even if i don’t understand why you get angry and why you ignore me, i still like you. that’s what makes you, you. and love is all about understanding.”

you nod. all the crying has made you feel drowsy, and your fatigue is apparent, since karina smiles in amusement and says, “wash up and take a nap. i’ll be here.”

she’ll be here.

“thank you, jimin.”

karina, or rather, jimin, chuckles, “hurry up and shower. i hope you brought extra clothes since i’m going to change too.”

you quickly wash up and so does jimin. the two of you settle into the bed, your hands clutching at jimin for warmth and intimacy. you have her. the thought allows you to drift asleep, finally knowing that jimin’s heart beats the same for yours.

when the sun sets as you wake up from your nap, you can’t help but blurt out, “i adore you.”

jimin, pleasantly surprised, only giggles back.

“i adore you too, in ways words cannot express.”

maybe paris wasn’t the city of love. yours was milan.

🎙️ author’s note: this is probably one of my favourite fics i’ve written. most of my own personal values have been put into this fic. regret is a stupid thing, we only live once and we have no idea if we’ll ever get to live again. find people that makes life worth living for. happy birthday yu jimin, aespa’s stupid cheese cat 🤍

[russellsppttemplates]

I want this every day (Charles Leclerc)

Charles has been frustrated with the team's strategies and the results he's been getting lately so you find a way to cheer him up

Note: english is not my first language. I was going to write it earlier on the week, but then I felt like I a jinxing it so I stopped... but after today, I think it's a good place to start...

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions Jules Bianchi

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Another race weekend where he was out qualified by his team-mate left Charles with the feeling that if it came to it, he was almost one hundred percent sure they would ask them to swap positions.

Points for the team would be important anyway and they came away with a good amount and the car showed to be competitive enough considering the RedBull dominance on the grid, but the frustration was still there.

With the team and with himself.

They told him they'd keep him - there wasn't a quesion put down about his contract -, Il Predestinato wasn't something he carried lightly but often times it was confusing. Without the support and appreciation from inside the team, it was proving difficult to achieve their goals.

His childhood dream was driving for Ferrari and Suzuka always carried a heavier weight for him. As he took off his helmet and was faced with the number 17 on the side, he apoligised. To Jules, who he wanted to make proud every day but even more on this particular track. To his fans, who deserved better than this. To you, who were there for him, arms open for a hug and a shoulder where he could cry and let his feelings out on, to hold him and remind him every single time that all of the nonsense commentators and the media still had the audacity to say about him despite his continous shows of intelligence, skill and talent, and to love him.

The way you loved him was something he had never felt before and had never thought he deserved.

The face you were giving everyone in the garage that dared look at you wasn't unfortunately a rare occurrence, hence the fact that so very few team members approached you, "Charles is just finishing his interviews, he should be here soon", Silvia said before excusing herself from the garage.

You walked to your boyfriend's driver room, knowing he would end up in there soon enough after greeting the mechanics and engineers.

He stepped inside the room less than fifteen minutes later, finding your embrace immediately as his arms wrapped around your waist, "it's not fair that this keeps happening", he mumbled.

"I know it isn't", you kissed his stubbly cheek while rubbing his back soothingly.

"I thought I could've done so much better, for the fans, for you, for Jules", he hiccuped, letting himself be vulnerable after bottling up everything he was feeling.

"You did us proud, Charles - he is always so proud of you", you cupped hisface in your hands as you hoped the words got through to him, "okay?".

The flight back home had Charles sleeping most of the time, the whole rush of the weekend catching up with his body as he slept with his head on your thighs, your fingers playing with his locks while you arranged your schedule for the week ahead.

"I was thinking we could spend some time together today", you said over the phone, hoping he hadn't booked anything since you made sure that Andrea and Joris had cleared his schedule so you could make this happen without a hitch.

"You don't have work?", Charles asked, "no, I arranged a few things and a meeting got cancelled", you explained.

"Good, I don't have anything to do either, I was just going to stay home, but being with you sounds much nicer, my place or your place?", he wondered.

"My place, please", you replied immediately, "I just want to change my clothes and I'm feeling like spending the afternoon in", you tried, hoping he would catch on and not mess up your surprise.

"Okay, amour! Do you need me to pick you up from work?", Charles asked and you heard a small smile on his face. You weren't sure why, but Charles really got a kick out of dropping you off and picking you up from work, so you felt bad for the answer you were giving him, "it's okay, you can meet me there, I'm already walking", you said as you drove out of the shop and headed home. It was an inoffensive lie but you kept telling yourself it was for a greater good.

"Okay, I'll meet you there in twenty minutes or so", he said, "Je t'aime, mon amour".

Riccardo seemed to have parked the car at the front of your building, making you get the bag out of your car trunk and join him and his family, "hey guys! Thank you for coming to this", you smiled, touching Chiara's foot softly and getting a giggle out of the little girl.

"No worries, this is such a nice idea and we're happy to help!", Marta said, letting you walk up to the door so you could get to your apartment.

"For the first time in my life, I'm the first one somewhere, and then they showed up too!", Joris said as the rest of the group you invited stood up from the hallway floor.

"I'm sorry for making you wait, but I had to pick these up and then the call with Charles had to be done at the precise time so he wouldn't get here before I did!", you explained, unlocking the door and letting them in.

"So we're fine to wait, but Charles can't wait for you?", Joris teased, making kissing noises as you shook your head, "privileges of being my boyfriend - it is what it is!", you chuckled.

Delegating the small tasks you left for the last minute, Charles' text saying he had just parked the car was enough to capture you attention, "quick quick, go hide in the living room - careful with the board game boxes! He's coming up!", you ushered your friends to the living room before your boyfriend knocked on your door.

"Hello, my love", you said, kissing his lips and pulling him inside the supposedly quiet apartment.

"Hey, gorgeous girl - I missed you", he squeezed you tight once you closed the door, "I was getting in my he - what's that?", Charles asked as a noise came from the living room.

Chiara squealed loudly enough for him to hear, so in part your surprise was not such a surprise, "you're not alone?", he mused.

Lacing your hand in his, you pulled him to the living room as everyone jumped out of their places to greet him!

"Surprise - ish!", you waved your hands as if you were announcing some great show, "I gathered all your favourite people - Lorenzo is coming with Charlotte in a bit, he just picked her up from work and your mother also had a cliente so she'll arrive a little later. Arthur is in the bathroom?", you wondered as you saw him walk out and pat his brother's back, not missing the truly surprised look on his face as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, "you're the best, amour, thank you", he whispered.

You had food laid out in the coffee table and drinks in the kitchen where everybody could serve themselves so you could have your dining table available for the board and card games you were playing along with some building blocks for Chiara who was immediately stolen from her parents once your boyfriend saw her.

"Do we want to make a castle? Or maybe a rollercoaster?", Charles mused with the little girl sitting on his lap, still keeping an eye on his Monopoly game to make sure no one was missing any of the payments on his properties, "Good job, chérie!", he congratulated her, kissing her chubby cheek.

"Do you want me to get you guys anything? I'm already going to the kitchen", you wondered, "can you fill this up for us, please?", Marta asked as she handed you the orange juice jug, "yes, of course!", you grabbed it.

"This was a great idea, Y/N", Lorenzo said whole he poured himself a drink as you stepped into the kitchen, "he's been in his head a lot recently", he began.

"It's not much, really, it was quite easy to put everything together and you being here was very kind", you brushed it off.

"Y/N, gathering his favourite people to do something he loves apart from racing may seem simple but it's what he needs right now - don't underestimate yourself or the ability you have to bring him back to a good mental space", he rubbed your shoulder before going back to open the door, "it's our mother", he excused himself.

You set the jug on the table and took Chiara from your boyfriend's arms, volunteering to change her nappy in your bedroom.

Charles hugged his mother tight, "Hello, mon petit", she cupped his face and kissed his cheek, "I'm not little anymore", Charles blushed, "you and your brothers will always be my little boys, I don't care how old or how tall you get", she smiled, greeting everyone else in the room.

His favourite people were all in the same place, Charles thought. Some were playing cards, some were just chatting and you just picked his friends' daughter to change her nappy like she was your own.

"Do you have room for one more? I'm usually pretty good at this!", Lorenzo said as he sat at the dining table, "you take my game - it's not too bad, just make sure Marta pays up what she owes me - two hotels in my blue cards", Charles raised his eyebrows, "I know you were counting on your daughter's cuteness to distract me, but I have excellent vision", he smirked.

Charles walked to your bedroom, seeing you close the diaper bag as Chiara kicked the air, layed on top of your comforter and giggling at the story you were telling her, "and then I had to tell the lady 'that won't do, because I have my boyfriend's family and our friends over for dinner and I can't have too little food! Even if I have left overs for weeks!' because that's what's right, right? She also had this very fluffy bread that was still warm from the oven so I asked her if she could add that because I knew you'd like it - bread is the best, isn't it, cutie?", you spoke.

You were it, he had known that for a long time.

You were the one he wanted to grow old with and go through every challenge life wanted to throw at you, because he knew you both could face them if you were there.

"And who is that spying on us, hm? It's Charles! Let's go and give Charles a big hug and many kisses!", you smiled, picking her up and approaching your boyfriend, cuddling into his chest as you kept the little girl on your arms, kissing his chest while Chiara palmed his face and giggled when Charles pretended to eat her fingers, "yummy fingers, nom, nom, nom".

"I need to get started on dinner - I'm doing that roast you really like", you offered, "I already prepped most of it, just need to cut up the veggies and then put in the oven, simple as that".

"C'mon, Chiara - I bet my mother is wondering where you are because she'll want a cuddle", Charles took her from your arms, "I'll be back for you", Charles slapped your butt playfully.

You were seasoning the food on the trays, making sure you weren't forgetting anything when your boyfriend walked up to join you, wrapping his arms around your waist, "thank you for this, I really needed it", he kissed under your ear, turning you around to face him and kissing your lips properly, "it's fine", you scoffed.

"No, I really needed it - it's easy to lose sight of these things and these moments", he began, "I was home and getting way too much into my own head and I wouldn't got to anyone unless they asked about it", he admitted, squeezing your body closer to his.

"I'm glad you liked it, it's truly nothing but I'm glad you're happy", you smiled, "I can't control what goes on your mind all the time but I'm going to make sure that whenever you're near me and say silly things about doubting yourself, I will always help you see the truth and work it out with you - no down talking about yourself when you're with me, understood?", you stated firmly almost like you were lecturing him.

"I know, amour", he giggled, kissing your forehead and then littering some more kisses on your face and making you break out in laughter loudly.

The dinner was great and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves as they ate the meal and spoke about whatever came to mind, summer plans already in discussion.

Charles was helping you put away the plates when he decided he would voice the thoughts running through his head. Usually at this time of the day he was already knee deep into strategies and failed attempts, but this time was different.

"I want this every day", Charles said with a big smile on his face.

"Well, not all of us have your schedule, it would be lovely, but maybe making it a weekly thing? Monthly maybe with your schedule?", you tried, not wanting to kick his idea straight to the trash.

"I don't mean that - I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I was wondering if you'd like to move in with me", Charles clarified, "there's no point to keep two places when realistically, we spend most times at eachother's place - you're down to what? Sleeping two nights here per week?", he noted as you smiled.

"You want to move in together?", you checked and he nodded, "yes, I do - honestly, I've thinking we keep my place since you're renting here and that way you'd be closer to work, too", he suggested.

"Sounds good to me", you smiled, kissing his lips, sealing the deal.

"I don't want to be far away from you when we don't have to be, and this way you can save on rent, too!", he added and before you truly lectured him, he caught you ahead, "I know you won't let me pay for things on my own and we will find some arrangement for that, I was just saying you won't have to keep paying your landlord", he smiled.

"I mean it when I say I want to split expenses, okay?", you argued, "unless you start going with expensive caviar or any of that crazy expensive stuff - my salary can't take that", you joked.

"When have you ever seen that in my fridge?", he threw his head back as he laughed.

"I'm only joking, handsome - I can't wait to move in with you", you hugged him, "I love you, Charles, can't wait to be your new roomie".

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

gangleader!sukuna x reader, modern au

tags: possessive & obsessive sukuna, choking, lowkey stalking translations: piccola - little one/baby notes: listen to "salvatore" by lana del rey wc: 1.7k

In the dimly lit underbelly of the city, where shadows whispered secrets and alleys told tales of violence, there existed a figure feared and revered in equal measure: Sukuna Ryomen, the enigmatic leader of the most dangerous gang. His name struck terror into the hearts of those who dared oppose him, while his charisma drew countless souls into his fold.

Sukuna was a man who commanded respect without uttering a word. His mere presence exuded power, his icy gaze capable of silencing even the boldest of adversaries. With a network spanning the city's underworld, he held dominion over illicit trades, clandestine operations, and the very pulse of criminal activity.

Yet, amidst the chaos and the conquests, there was one enigma that eluded Sukuna’s grasp: a woman whose allure ignited a fire within him. You, a mysterious beauty with a spirit as untamed as the flames dancing in the night. You moved with a grace that defied the chaos around you, a silent tempest in the midst of the storm.

From the moment Sukuna laid eyes on you, he knew you were unlike any other. You were not bound by the rules of his world, nor swayed by the promises of power and wealth. Instead, you remained an enigmatic force, unyielding and unattainable.

Driven by an insatiable desire, Sukuna sought to possess you, to unravel the mysteries that shrouded your existence. He offered you riches beyond measure, a throne by his side where you could rule the underworld together. Yet, each offer was met with a gentle refusal, as you remained steadfast in your independence.

Frustration festered within Sukuna's heart, a tempest of emotions that threatened to consume him whole. He was a man accustomed to getting what he desired, yet you remained beyond his reach, a tantalizing mirage in the desert of his ambitions.

Despite his best efforts to suppress the yearning that gnawed at his soul, Sukuna found himself inexorably drawn to you, like a moth to the flame. He watched from the shadows as you moved through the city, a silent guardian cloaked in mystery.

In the depths of the night, when the city slumbered and dreams took flight, Sukuna found himself haunted by visions of your captivating gaze. You were the one anomaly in his meticulously crafted world, the one puzzle he could not solve.

And so, amidst the chaos and the conquests, Sukuna Ryomen, a formidable leader, found himself ensnared by the one thing he could not possess: the heart of a woman who danced beyond his reach, a forbidden desire that burned brighter than any flame in the darkness.

In the depths of his lavish office, Sukuna sat with unwavering determination, his gaze fixed on the phone before him. His frustration simmered beneath the surface, a molten rage that threatened to erupt at any moment. With a swift motion, he seized the device, his fingers dancing across the screen with a commanding presence.

"Where are you, piccola?" he typed, each word a declaration of his unwavering dominance. "You cannot hide from me forever. I will find you, and when I do, you will answer to me."

There was no room for hesitation in Sukuna's messages, no trace of the desperation that had once plagued him. Instead, his words dripped with authority, each message a demand for her submission.

"Do not test my patience" he continued, his tone brooking no defiance. "You belong to me, and you will come to me willingly. There is no escape from my grasp."

With each message sent, Sukuna's resolve hardened, his determination driving him forward with unrelenting force. He would not be denied what was rightfully his, not by anyone, especially not by a woman who dared to defy him.

"Tell me where you are," he commanded, "I will not ask again."

But still, there was no response, no sign of surrender. Anger flared within Sukuna's chest, a wildfire of fury that threatened to consume him whole.

"If you think you can hide from me, you are sorely mistaken," his words a warning laced with venom. "I will tear this world apart to find you, and when I do, you will regret ever crossing me, piccola."

With a final message sent, Sukuna leaned back in his chair, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. He would not rest until you were in his grasp, until you bowed before him in submission. For in Sukuna Ryomen's world, there was no room for defiance, only dominance and control. And he would have it all, no matter the cost.

As Sukuna's fingers hovered over the screen, poised to send yet another commanding message, the door to his office swung open with a forceful creak. In strode one of his most trusted lieutenants, a figure cloaked in shadows and whispers, bearing news that ignited a spark of hope within Sukuna’s hardened heart.

"Boss," the subordinate – Toji – began, his voice low and deferential, "we've received word. She... she's in Miami."

The words hung heavy in the air, a tantalizing promise of victory amidst the tumultuous storm of Sukuna's emotions. Without a moment's hesitation, he rose from his seat, his movements swift and decisive.

"Prepare the jet," he commanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "We leave immediately."

There was a sense of urgency in Sukuna’s tone, a hunger that burned brighter with each passing second. Miami beckoned like a siren's call, its neon-lit – ruby, blue and green, neon too – streets promising the chance to reclaim what was rightfully his.

As his subordinates scrambled to fulfill his orders, Sukuna's mind raced with thoughts of the woman who had eluded him for far too long. He could almost taste the sweet victory that lay within his grasp, the moment when you would finally bend to his will.

With a steely resolve and a heart set ablaze with determination, Sukuna embarked on his journey to Miami, a man possessed by a singular purpose: to capture the one who dared to defy him and to assert his dominance once and for all.

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting its golden rays upon the pristine sands of the Miami beach. Among the throngs of sun-seekers, Sukuna strode with purpose, his eyes scanning the shoreline with a predatory intensity. And there, amidst the azure waves and the gentle sway of palm trees, he spotted you.

You laid upon the sand, a vision of beauty that stole the breath from Sukuna's lungs. Clad in a bikini that left little to the imagination, you exuded an aura of confidence that only served to fuel his desire. Your bronzed skin glowed beneath the sun's warm embrace, your tousled hair cascading like silk upon the sand.

With measured steps, Sukuna approached, his gaze never wavering from the woman who had haunted his every thought. He stood before you now, a towering figure clad in shadows and sinew, his presence commanding the attention of all who dared to gaze upon him.

"Piccola," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "You cannot hide from me forever."

There was a flicker of defiance in your eyes, a spark that ignited the flames of desire within Sukuna's chest. But he would not be deterred, not by your beauty nor by your resolve. He had come too far, fought too hard, to let you slip through his fingers once again.

"You belong to me," he declared, his words laced with a possessiveness that bordered on obsession. "And now, you will come with me."

But you remained unmoved, your gaze steady as you met his with a defiance that stirred something primal within him. You were a challenge, a tantalizing puzzle that begged to be solved, and Sukuna was more than willing to rise to the occasion.

“I was working on my tan, boss.”

"Working on your tan," he repeated, his voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within him. "In Miami, of all places."

There was a subtle tension in the air, a silent battle of wills as you and Sukuna locked gazes. Your defiance sparked a flicker of admiration within him, even as it fueled the flames of his frustration.

"Indeed," you replied, your tone cool and composed. "Is there a problem with that?"

Sukuna's jaw clenched, a silent testament to the storm of emotions swirling beneath his stoic facade. He had come too far, searched too long, to be met with such casual indifference.

"No problem," he finally replied, his voice a low growl. "But I must insist that you accompany me. We have unfinished business, you and I."

Your lips curved into a sardonic smile, a glimmer of amusement dancing in your eyes. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, boss. I have many businesses, all of them quite finished."

Sukuna's patience wore thin, his frustration bubbling to the surface like molten lava. He had pursued you across oceans and continents, faced down countless adversaries in his quest to claim you as his own. And yet, she remained as elusive as ever, a tantalizing enigma that refused to be solved.

"Enough games, piccola," he snapped, his tone cutting through the air like a knife. "You cannot hide from me forever. Sooner or later, you will bend to my will."

The tension crackled between you like electricity as Sukuna's hand shot out, seizing you by the throat with a force that bordered on violence. His grip was firm, unyielding, a silent declaration of dominance that sent a shiver down your spine.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as you stood locked in a primal embrace, your gazes locked in a fierce battle of wills. But beneath the surface, a different kind of energy simmered—a raw, unbridled desire that pulsed between you like a current of electricity.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as Sukuna's grip tightened, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin like branding marks. And yet, there was no fear in your eyes, only a smoldering heat that mirrored his own.

With a low growl, Sukuna leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with a tantalizing promise. "You cannot resist me, piccola," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "You were made for me, and you know it."

A shudder ran through your body as you felt the heat of Sukunas breath against your skin, your pulse racing with a heady mixture of fear and excitement. You knew that you were as drawn to him as he was to you—a dangerous truth that sent a thrill coursing through your veins.

“You will always belong to me.”

[meazalykov]

switching leagues

jessie fleming x actress!reader

summary: jessie feels the same frustrations as you do.

back at ucla, you first noticed jessie because she was that quiet, intense girl with a soccer ball under her arm and her headphones on, always looking like she had somewhere important to be. 

she was a star on the field, and you were captivated, especially during one game when she completely dominated, her focus and skill undeniable. 

after the game, a mutual friend introduced you, and you were immediately drawn to her warmth and quiet confidence.

the weeks that followed were full of late-night study sessions, long conversations, and games where you cheered her on from the stands. she started coming to your theatre performances, too, even when they meant sitting through hours of experimental plays or improv. 

overtime, you guys started dating. it's been three years with the canadian and you both had big dreams, with her on the verge of a professional soccer career and you ready to dive headfirst into the world of acting.

in 2018, you got your big break with stranger things, and within months of season three’s release in 2019, your life changed. fans loved your character, heather, and suddenly, everywhere you went, people recognized you. 

jessie was there, watching from across the ocean after joining chelsea in london in 2020. you visited as often as you could, but with each year, the goodbyes got harder. juggling your career with twelve-hour flights became a challenge, and though you were proud of jessie and everything she’d achieved, the longing for a life together poked at you.

during a recent visit to london, you sit down with her in the dim light of her apartment, trying to find the right words.

“jess, i don’t know how much longer i can keep doing this,” you admit, fingers fiddling with the hem of your sleeve as you glance up at her.

she watches you, her brown eyes soft, concerned. 

“what do you mean… like… the long distance?”

“yeah. it��s…hm.. every time i come here, i feel like i’m stealing little moments of a life that could be ours,” you say, sighing. 

“and then i go back to la, and it’s like i’m just waiting to see you again. i know it sounds selfish, but… it’s hard seeing other people moving in together, planning their lives with their partners.”

she nods slowly, looking down. 

“i get it. and it’s not selfish. honestly… i feel it, too. every time you leave, it just feels like something’s missing.” she sighs, leaning back against the couch. 

“sometimes i wonder if… maybe i’m holding onto something that’s keeping me from what i actually want.”

you look at her, heart pounding. 

“jessie, what are you saying?”

“i'm saying i might not renew my contract with chelsea…” she shrugs, giving you a small, almost shy smile. 

“i’ve been thinking about it. my contract’s ending soon, and if i stayed, it’d mean more of this… this distance but if there’s a way for us to be together, really together, i think that’s what i want now.”

the relief in your chest is immediate, and you can’t help the way your face lights up. 

“jessie, i can’t believe… you’d do that?”

she reaches over, taking your hand in hers. 

“i would. for us.”

a few weeks later, you’re back in los angeles, barely holding yourself together after reading a script from a commercial you’re casted in. 

as you decide to put the stack of papers down to take a break, there’s a knock at your door. you’re not expecting anyone, so you’re surprised to open it and find jessie standing there, holding a suitcase, her face glowing with excitement.

“jessie? what… what are you doing here?” your eyes flick to her suitcase, heart pounding.

“hey,” she says softly, her smile widening. 

“i have some news.”

your heart races as she pauses, letting you soak in the moment. “so, i’m not with chelsea anymore. i signed with the portland thorns,” she finally says, biting her lip like she’s holding back a huge grin.

“wait… you’re… you’re back? like, for good?” you barely dare to believe it, eyes widening as you look from her to the suitcase.

she laughs, stepping inside and setting her bag down. 

“yeah, i’m back. i mean, i’ll still be based in portland, but it’s only a two-hour flight. and i thought… maybe we could finally talk about moving in together?”

you pull her into a hug, holding her close as her words sink in, feeling the warmth of her body against yours after so long. 

“jessie, i can’t believe you actually did this.”

she laughs, wrapping her arms around you tighter. 

“believe it, love. i’m here. and this time, i’m staying.”

masterlist

[0bticeo]

lurk | feyd rautha

part two of five. (part one.) (part three.) (part four.)

summary:

the edge of the blade is sharp. a pinprick of pain blossoms above your carotid. but…

“it’s not sharp enough.”

he blinks. slowly, his lips curl in a smile. your gaze flits to them. to the plush lower lip, to the arch of his cupid’s bow. to their predatory edge. you’ll cut yourself if you get too close. maybe you need to take a step forward.

“what will you have me do?”

“pardon?”

“to sharpen it. should i fetch the incapable wretch who forged them?” his grin sharpens. you feel his blade cut through skin. “or should i use you?”

wc. 3k

tw. blood, death, manipulation, knife kink, blood kind (both heavily hinted at), possessive feyd, political machinations, little canon divergent because the atreides actually attend feyd's bday fight (canon dune part 1 one starts a little after that), please read part one first it will all make sense i promise. shoutout to @kpopnstarwars my most beloved you're going to enjoy this. same goes for you @jaiuneamesolitaiire . also please ask questions about reader/the plot i beg of u i need to get this out of my system

you’re falling.

you see white sands engulf you in their sickly warmth, greedy little grains sinking you in.

you’re falling, and there’s a distant roar ringing in your ears. you’re falling, lifeblood escaping you.

you’ve fallen.

black.

you peel your eyelids open. they feel like sandpaper against your eyes, coarse and rough in all ways wrong.

you dream. again.

the past shifts and twists in front of you, ever changing, desert sand falling through your fingers. the more you cling to it, the less you grasp it.

you let yourself fall in the abyss of memory.

you blink.

you stand by your father’s side, gait proud and regal in a dark dress - a convoluted affair of veils and silver. on your breast, the crest of your family - crimson falcon spreading, spreading. you think of blood blooming on your chest and shift, ever so slightly. the cool press of your blade against your forearm soothes you.

you are in troubled waters, after all. 

geidi prime, home to your house’s sworn enemy, the harkonnen. geidi prime, its black sun sucking life out of its inhabitants, monochrome nightmare.

the flight from caladan was costly enough - you can almost hear hawat’s teeth grinding in discontent. a fortune, wasted on harkonen festivities held in honor of the na-baron’s birthday. yet, you must attend. you, betrothed-to-be to a harkonnen.

you’ve heard whispers. hushed conversations between your mother and father, an assessing gaze from the reverend mother herself. it won’t be the baron himself - too old, too sick to produce the desired offspring.

just any other member of that wretched house won’t do either - you are a duke’s daughter, your bloodline mingling with that of the emperor himself.

in the end, it all comes down to the baron’s nephews. 

rabban - brutal. all furious brawns, minimal intellectual capacity, proficient for slaughter if used well.

na-baron feyd-rautha. utterly psychotic. deadly. precise. cunning. watching.

from his position at the baron’s right flank, he assesses you. you, back impossibly straight, hands folded before you, feet spread wide enough to spring to action should the situation go awry.

you, bowing before them, liquid smooth, a hair short of being disgracious.

you’ve only bowed low enough to respect the intricate harkonnen protocol, not to show deference. not to them.

the baron raises his head from his seat, barely. 

“welcome to geidi prime, duke.”

you suppress a twitch. how utterly informal. 

“thank you, baron.”

a shift in the baron’s entourage.

outrage, barely concealed. rabban looks ready to slit your father’s throat. how dare the atreides scum fail to recognize the honor paid to him and his suite?

they’re being left alive, have the privilege of witnessing their beloved na-baron’s coming of age, and still fail to show the due respect?

you let out a slow, drawn out breath. the ceremony will be held in two days. more than enough time for you and your father to be disposed of. 

your lips quirk up. you speak.

“it is always an honor to be invited to festivities in which the emperor partakes.”

feyd-rautha’s eyes are on you. under geidi prime’s soulless sun, they’re white, depthless. a milky way of depraved harkonnen savagery. he bares his teeth with unbrided hunger. you know it to be a threat - you’ve heard of his harpies. 

you think he’ll consume you whole, with the way his gaze scorches your very soul. 

how delightful.

a pulse. the suspensors. slowly, the baron rises from his seat, gargantuan mass towering above you, shadow stretching and stretching until it encompasses all of you. 

“the flight to geidi prime must have been quite draining.”

a tenth of your wealth. he who controls the spice controls the universe. the harkonnen have had arrakis in an iron hold for eight decades. your jaw ticks. bastard.

“escort them to the guest wing.”

servants surge forward. 

feyd-rautha’s gaze burns, sinks in the exposed skin of your back. 

your dream shifts. twists, turns, has you seated at a banquet table.

a feast.

one day left until feyd-rautha’s coming of age.

the guards don’t know how to hold their tongue. they expect a fight - the grandest thing under the sun. 

the emperor’s here, sitting at your table. from the corner of the eye, you observe. he’s been put at the head of the table, the baron at his right, your father at his left. an attempt at appeasing eons old enemy. a failure. yet... 

there’s an air of satisfaction to the emperor. haden’t you be trained in the bene gesserit way, you would have missed it, the way his eyes glimmer like arrakean spice.

finality sinks in as he takes the first bite, knife slicing open the tender flesh of an unknown poultry.

it looks like a falcon.

you take a bite of your own meat. medium rare, the proper way to consume meat. especially venison. princess irulan watches you, gaze assessing. she, too, has been trained in the way.

you smile at her, finger tracing the rim of your glass, spider-pleasantries networking endlessly. you ask her if she enjoyed your gift - a vocal recorder of the highest quality.

her smile is sincere. in the brutal white lighting of the banquet hall, you find yourself wishing things were different.

“how is your brother?”

you grin. you’re being watched.

“he’s grown. still has his back facing the door.”

she scoffs, amused.

“he’ll learn.”

under the artificial light, your wine looks like freshly spilled blood. 

you take a sip and hum. the alcohol burns, sweet little fire settling low in your chest.

“is the wine to your liking, my lady?"

to your credit, you don’t startle. your shoulders tense, your hand freezes in its motion to lower the glass.

na-baron feyd-rautha is at your side, close enough for his breath to tickle your ear. 

“it is, my lord na-baron.”

mine. mine. glacier eyes have you riveted in your seat, needle-like against your throat. mine, mine.

his lady. his to claim, his to wed, his to breed.

you watch lithe fingers curl around his knife and wish you could see him in action. watch the deadly precision he’s so praised for. 

soon. 

twist and shift, until you’re lost in a maze of hallways.

the ceremony is about to start - you can feel the low thrum of thousands of harkonnen roaring their na-baron’s name. shadows pass over you.

it’s cold, this architecture. metal wings stretching, stretching. should you crane your neck, maybe, you’ll watch them disappear in the ceiling. maybe. darkness is a looming cloud - these very walls soak up the light. 

you, yourself, are a shadow. puppet dancing to the whims of whoever holds your strings. bene gesserit. baron vladimir harkonnen. the emperor. 

you feel a storm coming.

you stop. light. an open door. a lone silhouette, porcelain white etched against black. 

feyd-rautha.

he raises his head. sees you. tilts it to the side, lips stretched in a slow grin.

“are you lost, my lady?”

“so it would appear, na-baron.”

a twitch. flicker of annoyance in his eyelid, in the clenching of his jaw, sculpted edge caressed by shadows.

his blade is at your throat before you can make a move. 

time holds its breath. it will snap and bleed raw at your feet, thick rivulets of it.

you will bleed, too.

your lips part, a muted gasp. the edge is sharp. a pinprick of pain blossoms above your carotid. but…

“it’s not sharp enough.”

he blinks. slowly, his lips curl in a smile. your gaze flits to them. to the plush lower lip, to the arch of his cupid’s bow. to their predatory edge. you’ll cut yourself if you get too close. maybe you need to take a step forward.

“what will you have me do?”

“pardon?”

“to sharpen it. should i fetch the incapable wretch who forged them?” his grin sharpens. you feel his blade cut through skin. “or should i use you?”

your heart skips a beat. a droplet of blood trails down your neck, down to your collarbone, down to your breasts. his gaze follows. hungry.

“you’d make quite a mess, na-baron.”

he steps closer. circles you, free hand grazing your hip bone, left bare by your dress. you feel the heat of him. suddenly, you’re acutely aware of his bare chest pressed against you. you suppress a shiver.

“address me properly, my lady.”

he shifts his blade. it presses against your jaw.

“very well, my lord na-baron.”

a pleased hum, like a purr. you tilt your head to the side.

“what will you do, feyd-rautha?”

he turns by a fraction. his lips graze your cheek, a breath away from your mouth. your throat feels dry. they graze there, too, over your carotid, trailing up and up until he’s pressing his cheek to yours, guiding you, helping you see-

carnage.

servants, dressed in white, lying limp on the ground, throat slit with deadly perfection. blood pools on the ground. stretches. oozes from gaping wounds, until it reaches the hem of your dress. 

concubines, three of them - sisters of fate, harpies with broken limbs, lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. they’re smiling, teeth like fangs in the dim lighting of the room.

“help me,” he mutters, voice like a plea. “i will guide you.”

“and if i refuse?"

a low chuckle. deep, raspy. you melt a little inside. 

“you’re brave, my little atreides.”

“you wouldn’t be the first to try to kill me and fail, miserably.”

his arm wraps around your middle, pressing you to him. oh, mother, why did you have to wear a backless dress? you feel each ridge of him, the perfection of a trained warrior, muscles taut from countless hours of training - he’d make sculptors weep with the lethal perfection of him.

“ah, the fabled tale. show me, little atreides.”

“say please.”

his fingers dig in your hip, thumb tracing small circles under the silver threads holding the fabric together.

“please.”

slowly, you raise your arm. the fabric of your dress, a convoluted affair of veils and velvet, slides down your skin. inch by inch, until the treacherous, ragged scar stretches along your forearm. he tenses, feyd-rautha. 

“who did this to you?”

“a fool who underestimated me.”

an assassin.

sent to kill you and your brother as you were running around on the beaches of caladan. who took you first, had you pressed against him, blade at your throat - until you sweetly asked him to

unhand you.

he did. your mastery of the voice wasn’t perfect. you faltered. he struck. you bled. 

killed.

words are the weapons of the weak. 

that, you aren’t.

“how may i help you, feyd-rautha?”

twist, turn, until you’re facing him, holding a bowl of paint. thick, petrol black, it clings to your fingers like a lifeline. feyd-rautha’s hand covers yours. guiding you, dipping your fingers in the paint, raising your hand to his torso.

you flush a little. 

he’s warm. so very warm under your touch. the paint is cool on his skin - you watch him shiver, abdominals contracting, and you trail down, down his pectorals, stopping just short of his navel, lingering over the fabric of his tunic. at his side, his fingers twitch, eager.

“more.”

“where?”

his hand reaches for yours. presses it on his chest. you can feel his heart, steady, strong - fluttering, hummingbird flailing in a cage made of ribs. 

you want him, you realize. you want to consume him whole, sink your teeth in him until you can finally taste. 

“where?”

you have to crane your neck to get a look at his face. something like amusement glimmers in his eyes.

he brings your fingers to his lips. 

you blink.

spread the paint, thumb pressing down the plush of his lips. his lips part, suck you in and bite. 

feyd-rautha watches you, tongue darting out to gather the sweet blood trailing down your hand. he presses a kiss to your palm, lips lingering against the callouses of your skin.

you let out something like a whine. the bowl falls. you never hear it reach the ground.

“you’re making quite a mess.”

bastard.

“you’ll make a bigger one if you’re late, my na-baron.”

twist and turn, again, and again, and again. dreams have meanings, and you won’t let this one escape your grasp.

you’re standing above the ground, in the gaping mouth of a harkonnen arena. on and on it stretches, cold metal sparring against the sky, gnawing at its decimated horizon. ink blots the sky. you think of blood pooling in the water. fireworks.

you step inside the lodge. the guards recognise you - duncan idaho flashes a smile, a sharp quirk of his lips. you nod. they part ways. let you join your father, sit by his side and watch.

the fight hasn’t begun yet.

“you look thoughtful, daughter.”

you look away from the immaculate sand and the thousands of harkonnen roaring their na-baron’s name. feyd-rautha.

your father is watching you, gaze austere. you will not conceal, not from him.

“an alliance with the harkonnen would be beneficial, father.”

silence. you watch the subtle twitch of his eyelid, the flexing of his hand. the guards do not hear. you’ve willed it so on your way in. to them, this is only pleasant chatter between father and daughter. harkonnen slander.

“you will not speak of such matters again.”

“the emperor-”

“enough!”

you keep your mouth shut. your father is a stubborn man, blinded by hatred passed down from generation to generation of atreides. as you should be. 

horns blow. doors part, slide up. in comes feyd-rautha harkonnen, prowling on the wretched grounds of his playing ground. your binoculars zoom in on him. on the ease with which he carries himself, on the perfect arch of his neck as he kneels before the baron.

on harkonnen prisoners making their way towards him. undrugged.

you straighten in your seat.

the guards murmur. they too, have noticed the prisoners walking straight, carrying themselves with entirely too much ease. 

“a bold move. what is the baron planning?”

your father. he’s watching too. all of you are, thousands of gazes riveted on the focal point that is the lone silhouette of feyd-rautha harkonnen. 

you rip your gaze away from him and focus on the baron, a few meters above.

his lips part.

show me who you are, my dear nephew.

he’s fast. too fast for them. you relish in it, the fluidity of his movements, the way his hands tenses with each strike of his blades, bare forearms rippling with tension. one body falls. two. it’s barely been a minute since the fight started. 

you cross your legs and watch, enthralled.

by god, does he fight well.

a reptile, slithering around his opponent, assessing him with the cruel knowledge of his supremacy. shadows loom over them, horned beasts ready to pry his opponent away from him should he prove to be in danger. 

you feel more than you hear his outraged snarl.

“back off!”

that poor soul is his to kill. his gaze flickers upwards. up to the guest lodge, up to you. he bares his teeth in a smile, a flash of black against pure white, and strikes. blood splatters on the ground. a gash opens in the side of the prisoner. he stumbles but doesn’t fall. 

no, he’s a fighter that one. lunches forward to pin the na-baron to the ground, wrestling with him, clawing at his arms, hitting every nerve until the baron drops his blades. he’s laughing. he’s getting the life choked out of him and he’s laughing, shifting until his feet find enough leverage to pull him up. 

there’s a blade at his throat. the prisoner pushes and pushes, unstoppable force against immovable object. on he laughs, feyd. your eyes drops to his lips, where you see droplets of drool drip down his chin. you bite your lip.

feyd seizes the blade with his bare hand and twists. you hear the prisoner’s wrist break before you hear him choke on his own scream, coughing out blood. the dagger’s deep in his throat. it’s the only thing keeping him together - one fluid motion and feyd rautha wrenches it out of torn flesh and raises it above.

his gaze finds yours.

the dream shifts. 

a veil unfolds, parts, until you’re walking the burning sands of arrakis. paul atreides, blood of your blood, flesh of your flesh, stands before you.

his eyes are blue. 

you freeze.

a litany rises. lisan al gaib. your mother’s handicraft and eons of propaganda from the missionaria protectiva did its job well. here stands the one, scalding wind screaming around the looming silhouette of him. 

bodies. bodies, laying on the ground, thousands and thousands of bodies, hands clutching at scorched earth, parched mouths opened in damnation. hunger. they’re dying in paul’s wake. fate will set the galaxy ablaze. fate will make monsters out of you.

“you know what must be done, sister.”

you do. there’s something a little broken in the way you smile at him, palm cradling his face.

“do you, little mouse?”

he’s tired, paul atreides, usul, muad’ib, lisan al gaib. sanctity doesn’t suit him well. he sees, but his eyes are sunken, his cheeks have hollowed out. there’s an edge to him, too. the bene gesserit were right to fear him.

“don’t lose yourself more than you already have, brother.”

it’s too late. 

a jolt.

your eyes wrench open. 

“welcome back, atreides.”

the baron.

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Octavinelle

Summary: Yandere Octavinelle boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: yandere, dark content, murder, threats against reader, drugging, injury to reader, mafia shit, this one feels darker, so read at your own risk, Azul's part is the tamest, so take that as you will

A/N: As promised, I'm going to be doing this one regularly. Hopefully gonna get these out on Sundays.

Heartslaybul Savannahclaw Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

You were lucky. In so many ways. Every single day you were grateful. Grateful that you been at your winter home, which was on land. Grateful that the child he'd found had been human. Grateful that the twins had had to go home early for “family business”.

You would never have had your window otherwise.

And seven years later, you were still grateful. Particularly to the Sunset Savannah, for quietly taking you and your son in as citizens, and legally changing your names, all under the table. 

Your son was starting first grade tomorrow, so you'd spent the day shopping for supplies, eating treats that you'd splurged on to celebrate, chatting about dreams for the future. 

The sun had gone down, and you'd shifted a bag to your hip to unlock the door, only for the door to slowly creak open. You pushed your son behind you, peeking into your darkened apartment. You quickly noticed the absolute wreckage inside, the windows broken, tables flipped, tv smashed, pillows torn; anything that could be broken, was broken.

You turned to your son, pressing a finger to your lips. He looked scared, but nodded. You grabbed his hand, and tip toed towards the stairwell. You made it down one flight of stairs before you saw twin shadows. You had the advantage of seeing them first, so you turned and tiptoed your way to the roof, hastily typing a message to Emergency L. You said a silent prayer as you pushed the door open, immediately hearing cackling as they bounded up the stairs behind you.

If you could just block the door until help arrived…

But the roof was swarmed with large men in black suits. You never stood a chance.

After an uncomfortable ride in a limo with the Leech twins, who were trying really hard to get your son to call them “Uncle”, followed by an underwater breathing potion shoved down your throat (your son's was mixed in a smoothie), and an even more uncomfortable escort back to Azul’s undersea branch of the Monstro Lounge, you found yourself in a very familiar situation. It'd been a while since you'd been in this chair in the VIP room. Last time, you'd traded your life away, believing Azul would find a way home for you. You really should have read the fine print…

“Mister?” Your son tugged on Floyd's sleeve.

Floyd grinned. “That's not my name.”

“U-uncle Floyd?” Floyd nodded happily. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“Daddy will be here in a sec. He'll get you some water.”

Floyd seemed happy to entertain your son, meanwhile Jade quietly snickered from the spot next to you where he was ensuring you stayed seated.

The door slammed open, and you didn't dare turn to look.

“WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?” Azul boomed, and you heard your son release a squeak in fear.

“You were very busy with work. We didn't want to disturb you,” Jade said, the smile clear in his voice.

A tentacle wrapped around your stomach as Azul made his way to his desk.

“I should fire both of you for your impertinence.”

“Ah, but then we'd have to take Shrimpy and baby tako with us,” Floyd guffawed.

“Don't even joke about that,” Azul spat, finally in a place where you couldn't avoid looking at him. He looked exactly the same as you remembered, just with more bags under his eyes. The tentacle wrapped around your middle tightened as he stared at you, then he looked at your son, another tentacle moving to smooth the boy's hair. He flinched, but you'd long since learned that sometimes Azul's tentacles had a mind of their own; they continued petting his head.

“How would you like to stay with your Grandma for a while?” He finally asked.

“Grandma?” 

“Yes. Your parents have to work some things out. So Uncle Floyd and Uncle Jade are going to take you to stay with Grandma.”

“My grandma is from a different world…”

“You have another Grandma,” Azul smiled wickedly. “You see,” the tentacle turned his head to face you, “someone has been lying to you. I'm your father. And they stole you from me, because they are a selfish, mean, person.”

You moved to stand, but the tentacle, and Jade's grip, both became crushing, and you froze in place. Your son's eyes flickered with doubt, but saying something now would give you a black eye and a traumatized son.

“I'm your father,” Azul smiled softly, moving closer and gently taking his hands. That's the smile that made you sign your contract.

“We'll see you soon. And then we'll be a proper family. Okay?”

The boy nodded and was quickly walked out by Jade and Floyd. Azul moved behind his desk, as though he had not a care in the world. He pulled out a familiar piece of glowing paper, and looked at it, before looking at you in mock disapproval.

“It seems you are in extreme violation of your contract, Y/N Ashengrotto.”

The only way you could have ever made it to the surface, was with help. Going to Jade was a long shot. But he'd grinned. It sounded entertaining to him, watching Floyd hunt you down. It would provide a couple hours of fun for him. 

What Jade hadn't anticipated was how long you'd spent preparing for this opportunity. 

And now it had been six years since you'd escaped the clutches of the ocean. Your son was coloring in the living space while you cooked. 

The door splintered into a million pieces with a loud bang. And there he was. His eyes as cold as the day you'd first met him, when you'd watched him fight off a crowd of angry contracted students.

Your son looked up, instantly crying in total fear.  You wrapped your arms around him, shielding him from your angry ex husband. Or at least you tried to. But, just like the man he resembled, he was a tall boy. It was hard to hide your gentle giant. 

“Hey squirt,” Floyd said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He leaned in, his face inches from your son's face, scanning him, seeing the traces of himself in the boy. “How bout you come with me?”

“I-” he looked up at you, then back at Floyd. “I don't wanna.”

Floyd's eyes narrowed. He stood back up, grabbing you by the jaw, with a growl.

“Bet ya think you're real funny, doncha Shrimpy? Turning my family against me? Ya did it with Jade too. Thing is,” he scowled, biting his lip before continuing, “if I kill the kid, I know I'll never get you back again.”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Jade,” you breathed, but Floyd threw you to the ground.

“Don't you dare say his name!” He screamed, moving to grab you again, but your son stood in his way.

“You don't get to talk about him! You killed my brother!” He screamed, trying to bob and weave around the boy. Finally he pulled out his pen, whispering a spell, and your son collapsed.

“No!” You screamed, crawling over to him, but Floyd blasted you back against the wall.

“He's fine. Just sleeping til we get home,” he said, irritation at having to even explain it clear in his voice.

He stalked over to you, and you tried to scoot back, but winced. You were pretty sure you had broken something.

He shoved you back, then hovered over your body, pinning your hands above your head. He nuzzled into your neck, his teeth grazing your jugular.

“If I ripped your throat out, you couldn't leave me again.”

“Please don't,” you breathed out, tears trickling from the corners of your eyes.

“No promises,” he said, the smile returning to his voice. “We'll see how well you behave.”

You'd found a spy among the ranks of Jade's men. As much as you believed that Jade probably already knew, you'd used the poor soul’s situation to your advantage. You wouldn't tell “Papa Leech” about him, if he got his boss to get you and your son an escape. You pointed out how if you escaped, and stayed hidden, Jade would essentially be out of the picture, forever weakening the Leech family.

It took lots of negotiation, and some 4d chess on your part to out maneuver the near genius that was Jade, but eventually, you were set up in a small home in the sea just off the coast of  the kingdom of heroes. 

They'd even started prepping for when your son was old enough to start safely taking human transformation potions. A moray eel mer stood out no matter where he lived, so the sooner they could set you up on land, the better. 

That spy had left that job, and was now your regular contact when they were passing along information. You were scheduled to meet him today. He'd told you to bring your son. You hoped this meant you were finally going to discuss leaving the ocean. You'd dressed up your boy, putting a wig on him to hide the very Leech-ish hair he was unfortunate enough to be sporting. A pair of sunglasses on both of you, and you were ready. 

You arrived at the fancy restaurant, giving the host the fake name that you used for your contact. He directed you to a room in the back, telling you to lock the door behind you.

You opened the door in the back, gently ushering your son in as you turned to lock the door. You turned back, and smiled at your contact, sitting down next to your son, in the seat across from him. 

Then your contact fell out of his chair.

“Aw, too bad,” you heard an upsettingly familiar voice say from the dark corner of the room.

You grabbed your son's arm, preparing to swim away, but it took less than a beat for Jade to torpedo through the water, and grab you, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“No!” Your son cried, banging his fists against Jade.

Jade snickered, before calling out, “Floyd. Enough hiding. Time to play with your beloved nephew.”

Floyd swam out from under the table, sighing heavily. 

“If I have to. Just make sure you actually get Shrimpy on the right path this time, or Pops is gonna lose it.”

Your son was snatched around the middle, then dragged out of the room, your anguished cries doing nothing. Jade swam back to the seat your now dead contact was sitting in, slamming you down into it, binding you with a spell. 

“Hello, my love. How was your vacation?” He asked with a close eyed smile.

You struggled against the binds, and he sighed in mock disappointment.

“Oh dear, I thought you'd be happy to see me.”

He wiped away an invisible tear. Then he reached over to the plate on the table. 

“Jade, please. Where are you taking my son?” You pleaded.

He raised a brow, his face the very image of innocence, as he rolled his fork in the pasta on the plate.

“You mean, my son?” He asked. “He's going somewhere safe.”

“Jade, promise me you won't hurt him-”

“I would never! Do you think I'm a cruel beast?”

You didn't feel safe answering that question.

“While you were gone, I did some thinking. I was asking a lot of you. You're just a weak magicless human in a very scary environment. On top of that, I wanted you to be a parent, and a perfect spouse. You need some help.”

He grinned. “So I did some experimenting. Open wide!” He pressed the fork to your mouth, but you kept your lips sealed tight. “Don't worry, my pearl, you won't feel a thing.”

You had no doubt of that. Whatever was in that food wouldn't hurt you, not in a way you would feel. But whatever it did do would be far worse. You just knew it, especially after all this time he had to think about  just how to make you behave.

“Do you ever wish to see your son again?”

You slowly nodded, your throat closing up.

“Do you want your son's grandfather to be put in charge of your discipline?”

You shook your head, and Jade's smile widened as he pressed the fork back to your lips. This time, you slowly opened your mouth and took a bite of the pasta. It tasted good, at least. That was your last thought as the world around you morphed and warped, the only thing you could truly focus on was a sharp toothed smile.

[mrs-saturday]

🏹 The Archer (LS2)

♥ my masterlist!

♥ pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

♥ synopsis: The aftermath.

♥ a/n: Im so upset. Im broken. This is my grieving process

Combat, I'm ready for combat,

The pre-race ritual has always been the same for Logan and you. In front of the mirror, your hands slipping around his toned midriff, nails tracing the evidence of gym sessions beneath his race suit, his helmet on its stand, air at a standstill, as his head falls back onto your shoulder with a shaky exhale.

He knew it, and you knew it.

Zandvoort was the last one, and even though no one knew that for certain, and Vowles hadn't called the meeting, hadn’t thrown down the gavel on the blonde’s dream, you both knew it and it sat in your stomachs like a weight.

He picks his head back up, and turns to face you, planting a small kiss on your nose, and you do the same.

His nose is awfully cold, but you watch him slip the helmet on, and pray that it warms him through.

I say I don't want that, but what if I do?

Watching him spin out was like the nail in the coffin.

Watching orange tongues lap at the rear of his car was enough to drive you to a Hamlet-like state; to jump in his grave, pull the casket lid wide, and scream to the onlookers your love. 

When he’s back from medical, he looks at you, a silent acceptance of the end of his career quite literally going up in flames. He runs over, head buried in your chest as silent sobs wrack through his trembling frame. “Logan…” you mutter into his hair, about to ask what he thought would happen to his seat.

“I don’t even want it anymore…” he cries

“But, what if you do?”

'Cause cruelty wins in the movies,

He was told he was out 2 days before they announced it. The young Argentinian with his head hung low in the meeting room, unable to look at Logan. The cold fist of Vowles telling him what he’d been expecting, but the thought of him ruining this young boy’s career filled him with rage. 

How dare he do this again. How dare he do this to another bright star, to ignite his explosion all too short of a supernova. 

I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

You try to get him to stop for a moment, but he’s sat furiously typing. He has to get it all out, he says. Too many thoughts, he says. He types and types as you hold him. Every frustration, every late upgrade, every lost nugget of feedback, every false promise, the results of which spilled into the American’s notes app like he was a teenage girl, feeling her heartbreak through lines of shower thoughts and ill-placed rhymes.

When he finished, he exhaled, and looked at you, with a weak smile, and hit delete on the note. 

Easy they come, easy they go

You two don’t stay in the UK long. The boxes are full the day it’s announced and the flights to Florida only a few days after. 

“Home” he had begged on that night, “If the track can’t be, I want to make home with you”

And you agreed, you packed up your life in England alongside him, the helmets and trophies of past delegated to a manila coloured box labelled “FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE”

They would stay there.

For a while, at least.

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

The last thing he does is visit Oscar. Or at least, he tries to. His rosy knuckles tap on the Australian’s door one last time before he realises Oscar is not answering, despite the party going on inside the house. He is far too busy living their dream to remember to answer to the door to a boy delegated to a photograph on his mother’s refrigerator. 

I never grew up, it's getting so old, Help me hold onto you

It’s like he’s 11 again, in his parent’s living room, watching ‘Top Gun’, and eating popcorn. No one has bought it up. Not you, not his parents, not Dalton, it hangs in the air like the wheel had clung to his car by a wire’s length. Instead, you all ignore it for the simple pleasure of family. You laugh as he throws popcorn at his brother like they’re children. And you smile to yourself.

He never got to be a kid, really so why not hold onto that freedom now?

I've been the archer

He’d been the winner

I've been the prey

He was the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

You could never leave him, darling.

But who could stay?

Home always stayed.