#it still feels like im waiting for more chapters like i had been doing in 2021-22 and i technically am considering the ex files

[good-beans]

WIP Poll Tag Game

I'll write as many sentences as there are votes for the winner of this poll! Thank you @thepatchycat -- this is such a cool game aw! My dusty wips thank you as well... 😂

(For the audio editing I'll do like 5 minutes for each vote or something 👍)

And I'll tag @chinchillasinunison, @fayesdiary, @elegyofthemoon, @plantpretender, @jannede @nitetime-moon, @red-moon-at-night, and @amugoffandoms -- and anyone feel free to join in!

[smallcrystals]

still can’t believe empathy for the devil is over bro like. what do you mean it’s over

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [one]

the one in which you get a sex dream about the grouchy hockey player you work for.

genre : childhood best friends to frenemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.2k

chapter warnings : strong language, mature, slight smut (because im a tease), reader’s name is Destiny, jungkook is a bit grumpy towards her (she makes him nervous leave my boy alone), fat shaming (not by any of the main characters), oc had daddy issues, mentions of allergy. that’s about it, please let me know if i missed something.

a/n : here it isssssss drumrolls please because im so excited for this. jungkook as a hockey player??? *deep breaths* enjoy my lovely people. you’re so so loved. asks, reblogs and likes are much appreciated. kisses <3

read part two here

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“Babe, you know you're not going to win right? Don't be wasting your breath.” Bella challenges.

You’re sitting on the chair in your office going through the personnel file of the players. Verifying their names with their contact numbers and photographs which, you’re not going to lie, look like mugshots. Jeez, does smiling a little bit cost them? Anyways, once you’re done you close the file and look up at your assistant bickering with her boyfriend. Phone pressed against her ear. 

You mime hanging up the call and she lifts her index finger, indicating for you to wait. She throws in words like hmmm, yeah, you don’t know what you’re saying, yeah i love you too. Once she’s done, she drops the phone on the glass table in front of you and leans back in her chair. 

“He thinks I will let him get away with anything just because I love him”  

You chuckle, “What’s going on?” 

“You know, I’ve been wanting a cat for so long I even made a pinterest board for that. Last Sunday he surprised me with one and when I told him that I lowkey manifested it, he was not having it. I even showed him the mood board and I NEVER show it to anyone. Evil eye is real.” she all but cries out. 

That’s Bella for you. Highly spiritual and a firm believer of the universe. She claims that everything happens for a reason. She’s like a little ball of sunshine. Ever since you joined the Ice Dominators’ hockey team as a physical therapist, she’s been assisting you and you couldn’t be more thankful seeing the lack of female workers here. Seriously, there's no other female worker here except yourself and Bella which is so diabolical to you.

And it’s not like the men on the hockey team are a bunch of misogynist jerks. On the contrary, they act like they’ve known you for years. It didn't take you long to feel like home here. They are obedient, friendly and pretty nice. Few of them are married with kids while the rest of them remain single. They’re not like a bunch of teenagers, they know what they’re doing.

Except one, what’s his name? Jeon Jungkook. You would describe that man as crude and closed off to a pathological degree. You still remember when you asked him to come to your office so you can look at any possible previous injuries, he lied to your fucking face. Claiming he doesn’t have any when you could clearly see him hobbling sometimes just a tiny bit when he walked away. Years and years of dedication towards your studies have made you capable enough to catch that it is an old injury.

Despite your better judgment, you blamed it on the fact that his team lost the game that day. Poor guy was having a bad day and took it out on you. Big deal. 

“Earth to Destiny” Bella waves a hand close to your face and you shake your head as you look at her.

“Leave the poor man alone” You plead and then ask, “Any details about the new player? I’ll have to add it in the file” 

“Not yet, as far as I know they’re still contemplating the guy named Park Jimin or something”

That gets you real quick. Park Jimin. The name feels like acid on your tongue .The last game being unsatisfactorily resulted in the federation trading one of the players. It was cruel but was done for the better. Bound to happen sooner or later. You had expected it but what you had not expected was you both sharing a same room, sharing the same air.

“Alright then. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s—”

Knock, knock

“Miss Kim, sorry to interrupt but the manager is asking for you” Taehyung’s head pokes through the door.

You stand, picking up the file and sliding it into the tableside drawer, running a free hand over your scrubs. Bella does the same as she plucks her phone from the table and puts it inside her back pocket.

You look at him. “Sure Tae, thank you for informing”

He flashes you a quick, pretty smile before leaving. Bella turns to you with a worried look on her face.

“What do you think it is for?”

You bite your lip. “I have no idea. I wanna say it's about the new player but who knows?”

You hope it is and as unfortunate as it is for you to discuss him, you will have to hold your own. You know better than to be invited into the manager’s office. Though, judging by the temperament of him you would not predict anything. Last time when he called you, it was about Jeon Jerk, asking you to be more serious about your job as if it was your fault the man spared you the necessary details.

The asshole asked YOU to do your job better by virtue of HIS player not being sweet enough to listen. Maybe, there is indeed a misogynistic asshole going around and it’s the manager. No wonder women don’t volunteer to work for him.

Since, You love your job —god knows you wanna keep doing it— you kept quiet and took every jab he threw at you.

“Wait, Do I have time to pray? Should I pray?” she’s clearly panicking and you pat her on the shoulder.

“Just hope my job is still intact” you say, warily reaching for your purse. You both head out.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“Miss Kim, have a seat” James nods at the chair before him.

Once you’re settled, he continues, “I asked for you to join me here regarding the upcoming game. Care to fill in about the status of injury assessment?"

You clear your throat, “Absolutely, I was planning on getting on that today” 

“Well, I would love for you to do it soon as you know we have a new player in the team with us now”

You jerk, leaning forward. “We do?”

“Yes, and if you can please hurry with the assessment I would be grateful. You can do that right? Not too much of a work for you, eh?” 

Someone give him a medal from the way he's trying to hide the venom in his voice.

“Sure I can” you give him a firm nod. 

James Adams is an entitled, self centered asshole who thinks he’s above everyone else just because of his position. You reckon he does anything for the team besides talking bullshit. He kind of reminds you of your dad who also has the nasty habit of thinking the world of himself.

You’re all about self love but when that self love turns into chronically demeaning everybody in their close proximity, it boils your blood. This man in front of you is no better than your father. What's that saying? Out of the frying pan into the fire.

So you say nothing further and excuse yourself. You would have barfed in his face if you stayed there a second longer. Actually that's not a very bad idea. Bella is standing outside waiting for you as you close the door behind yourself.

“What did he say?” 

You bark, “Bunch of horseshit” 

“Typical” 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook 

There is a buzzing noise somewhere around Jungkook. Fuck, his head hurts. He frantically searches for his phone, still not opening his eyes. When he finds it, he slides his thumb on the screen and picks up the call. 

“Dude, how big do you want your coffin to be?” He loves his best friend but right now he would rather be sleeping than listen to him bark in his own ear. 

He finally squints his eyes open, “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Have you looked at the time?” says Taehyung.

“What time- FUCK!!!” he shrieks as he looks at the clock.

Somebody kill him right now. No wait, he’s gonna die either way so why bother. If he didn’t scream loud enough before, he does now. He all but jumps off the bed when he sees the blondie on the other side sleeping like she fucking owns it, wearing nothing but a thong. She must have heard him malfunctioning because soon she stirs, groaning as she slowly wakes up like a Disney princess. Who the heck is she and how did she get in here? Then it comes to him.

“Please Jungkook just take me to your room and fuck me. Show me what those hockey hands are capable of.” 

He wants to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Speaking straight from his shoulders, he has made plenty of bad decisions throughout his career and this is not his first time bringing a puck bunny up to his room but it has never come to this. Missing his hockey practice because he was too exhausted to get his sweet ass up and run to the academy. 

Taehyung screams from the other side of the line, “Are you there? Hello?” 

Shit, he forgot he was on a call. 

“I’ll be there soon. Cover for me until then.” With that he presses the red circular button and ends the call with him muttering some curses.

He glances back at the blondie, “Why are you not gone yet?” 

She’s looking at him with those fuck me eyes she had last night but right now when he’s well aware of the fact that he’s in hot water, they don’t do shit to him. Coach will have his head on a platter today for sure. Honestly, they wouldn’t have done shit to him if it was not for the great deal of alcohol last night.

“I thought of you as a morning sex person” she twirls a strand of hair with her finger, sitting up now. Her tits hang free and he can see his hickeys decorating her chest.

He wants to laugh. She’s not even close to his type. His type is the woman in blue scrubs with her brunette hair slicked back in a ponytail. His type is the woman who looks like she could be watching grass grow rather than to look at him. His type is the woman who walks into a room and lights it up. His type is the woman who is too bright for him and his mundane personality, who has a face worth millions. His type is Kim Destiny. 

“No need to waste your precious time thinking about me. You can go” 

He places his phone back on the table and saunters over to the bathroom, not bothering looking back at her. He has boundaries and he intends to keep it that way.

He quickly goes through his routine of taking a shower, making a cup of coffee, sliding into a pair of sweatpants and the Ice Dominator’s jersey with his name on the back. Not in that order, of course.

The girl is thankfully gone by the time he finishes. Once he’s done with his coffee he picks up the car keys and a protein bar from the kitchen counter and heads to the academy hoping his limbs remain intact by the time he’s home.

The Academy is bustling as usual with players keeping themselves busy with hockey and their gym sessions. He heads straight for the rink not even bothering to change into the uniform. He needs to see for himself that everybody is still on the ice. Everything comes after that.

Surprisingly, he sees not a single guy when he reaches there. His heartbeat stops.

“Hey Pixie, where are the boys? Did they already leave?” he asks the brunette kid who looks like he just saw a ghost. Or it’s just Jungkook who he saw.

He shakes his head, “They’re all in the gym. The doc called them earlier, said she had something important to get done with them” 

Jungkook gives him a quick thanks and walks towards the gym. What could be so important that she had to call the boys mid practice? Is someone hurt? Is she hurt? His heart leaps in hid throat as he runs. Fuck, please let him be wrong.

The first thing that he sees as he enters the room full of equipment are his teammates. Taehyung and Yoongi are in the corner lifting weights, Namjoon is using the treadmill as he runs on it. The rest of the boys are all scattered around doing their own thing. He still can’t find Destiny anywhere but her assistant, Bella, is talking to Namjoon while holding a file so he lets out a sigh, relieved that nobody is in fact hurt and in need of help. 

“Do you wanna get a tattoo on the peni— oh look who’s here. Jeon Jungkook as I live and breathe.”

Taehyung drops the weight on the ground before walking up to him. He’s dressed in a black tee and sports shorts. The man looks good in everything. Bet he’d look in a sack too. 

“Whoa!! Why do you look like you wanna kill somebody or wanna get killed? Is everything okay?” 

Jungkook lets his face relax, focusing more on the eyebrows which had gone tensed due to his unnecessary anxiety. “Yeah, all’s good. The practice ended early?” 

“The practice ended just on time. It’s you who’s late” he pats my shoulder. 

He runs his fingers through his hair and walks towards the bench, dropping his bag on it. Taehyung follows him ignoring Yoongi who’s calling him back for the weightlifting. 

“Doc wanted to assess our injuries for the last time before our game if you’re curious which, I know you are. You’re always curious about her” 

He winks at Jungkook and he punches him on the chest. Taehyung laughs as he rubs the spot.

“Keep your voice down, will you?” 

Bella’s voice echoes across the room, “Jeon, you’re up next” 

He takes out his water bottle, takes a swig and stands. A wince leaves him as he gets a flashback of the last time he had to face her. It didn’t go very well and he’s sure she hates him now. He would too. After all, he not only talked to her rudely but also lied through his teeth about his injury. It’s pretty old so he had not felt the need to mention it. 

He sees a guy coming out of the office just before he’s about to enter. He has brown hair long enough to reach the nape of his neck. Even from where Jungkook’s standing, he can say the man doesn’t reach above his shoulders. Who the fuck is he? Oh wait, he must be the new player that got traded down here. The guy must have sensed him making a hole through his head by the way he’s staring because he’s begins walking towards him with a bright grin.

“Hey man, you must be Jeon Jungkook? Heard a lot about you. I’m Park Jimin” He holds out his hand, asking Jungkook to shake it and he gives it a firm handshake. Word to the wise : never give someone a weak handshake. His grandfather has been asking him to do that ever since he was 15, said it doesn’t leave a strong impression and he’s be lying if he says he was wrong.

He offers Jimin a nod, “Nice to meet you. Excited to get on the rink with you.” 

He takes his hand back. “Oh the feeling is mutual but—”

“Jungkook, please join me inside” 

Destiny’s voice cuts him off as she looks over to both of them with an eerie expression on her face. Her eyes bounce between them, resting a second longer on Jimin. Does she know him? Do they have a history? Wait, are they a thing? Even if they are, why does it bother him? Jungkook couldn’t care less about the pretty physical therapist who wears her blue scrubs like armor and white crocs with strawberries on them.

He gives Jimin another nod and follows her into the office. Although, he’s not sure if a massage table and a stool resting beside it counts as an office. The room which she works in is much better. This one is just for examinations and massage therapy so he guesses it doesn’t need that much of an upgrade.

She gestures towards the table, “Please sit”

He says nothing and settles himself up, clearing his throat.

“Look I know we got off on the wrong foot last time and it could have gone so much better, but we can still start over right?”

Destiny takes a deep breath, filling her chest with air. She’s wearing her hair in a bun today. It sits at the top of her head and some strands are set loose cascading down her face. God, she’s pretty.

He looks down and back up at her. “Sure”

Her face shows her annoyance with the one word response. He doesn't blame her. He'd be pissed too.

She’s quiet for a moment, “Why don’t you tell me about your knee injury to start with?”

“What are you talking about?”

She sighs, “You know what I’m talking about Jungkook. Please don’t make me work for it. It’s my job to know about your past and present injuries, if any. The manager has already given me crap about it”

He freezes. His hackles rising and his relaxed face long gone.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing”

He levels her with a stern face, “What.did.he.say?”

She’s not obligated to answer him. Hell, she could just slap him in the face and leave but he needs to know what went down with that son of a bitch. When and if she decides to let him in the details and it turns out something wicked, he’s gonna hunt that man down and make his life miserable.

Much to his surprise, she takes a step back and starts talking. "He called me in his office today and," she halts,

"Well let's just say there were some words thrown around which clearly meant he thinks of me as a feather brained bitch"

He might look unbothered from outside but the indignation inside him could just about burn the whole city down. He tries to keep calm and pries some more.

His jaw clenches. "What else?"

Destiny shakes her head, shuffling on her feet. “Jungkook it’s really not that seriou—”

“It is serious. You work for us, you tolerate our asses and in return if we fail to give you the respect which, you deserve by the way cause it’s the bare minimum, we might as well save everyone’s time and money by giving all of this up.”

“Why do you care?” she shakes her head.

He takes a step forward, “Because you— Because you work for us, Destiny. You look out for our bodies, our injuries, our fuckups. Is that not enough?”

She barely reaches his shoulders. It’s cute how she has to crane her neck up in order to look him in the eye. She keeps looking at him for a long minute, searching his face.

“You think I don’t know that? Do you really think I don’t have what it takes to ask for my own dignity?”

He takes a long step back. This conversation was as unforeseen as they come. The room gets filled with heavy silence and he can hear Destiny’s heavy breath. He can tell she’s trying to calm herself as if his words have blindsided her.

Needless to say she’s a tad bit taken aback. Jungkook would be too if someone who never bothered to speak a word to him and when he did, there was nothing pleasant about his tone suddenly started to care.

But that’s where she’s wrong, nothing about his care or concern for her is sudden. He still remembers the day she accidentally drank the almond smoothie Bella brought not knowing the fact that she’s allergic to it. She’d started choking the second it went down her throat. He also remembers how Yoongi injected the epipen against her thigh as she came back to life.

Meanwhile, he stood behind shaking in his goddamn boots. Too scared to let her out of his sight and too pathetic to hold her close. Yeah, he’s not proud of that.

He sighs, “You know that’s not what I meant—”

Namjoon walks inside with a hand towel around his neck “Doc, you about done? The boys are being incorrigible over there. If you don’t hurry, one of them is gonna call a tattoo artist and get their dick tattooed. Right here”

The room falls silent.

“Jesus” she looks over to where the guys are bickering about something, propping her hands on her hips. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

“Sure” and with that he walks away.

She picks up a blue file from the stool, not looking at him. Why is she not looking at him?

“If you don’t want to tell me about your injury right now, that’s fine. Since, I know it’s pretty old and It’s unlikely that you’re gonna get affected by it in the upcoming games, there’s no need to worry. However, I would still suggest you be careful. Anything can happen out there and your knee is in a vulnerable position. Don’t pick unnecessary fights, don’t let the opponent know your weak link.”

She glances at him, dropping the file back to where it was.

“You can go”

Without a preamble, he heads outside, passing Taehyung. He hears him cracking a joke about penis tattoos and piercings with his girlfriend’s name on it. Destiny cracks up and Jungkook wonders if she would have done the same, had he been the one cracking the joke. Only, he doesn’t crack jokes. Not around her at least. It’s not like he's some grumpy bastard who wants nothing to do with anybody around him and thinks of him as omniscient.

There’s just something about Destiny which puts him at loss of words. Knotting his tongue it in such a way where he can’t get an expression out. Only look at her and god, does he look at her. He's not stupid. He knows it’s a crush but she’s like a mirage to him. She’s unreachable, forbidden and so fucking beautiful.

Does he want to make her his? Yes, Is he going to risk his career and hers over it? Absolutely not. So, he makes use of the only right nobody can take away from him. Not even her. Admire her from afar. Fantasize more about tasting her, licking her slender neck and worshipping the ground that she walks on and one day if she lets him, Jungkook will do anything to turn all of that into reality.

He finds Yoongi seated on of the benches, scrolling on his phone.

Facing him, Jungkook speaks in a low voice. "Do you have any idea where James is?"

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

Never have you ever wanted to run away as much as you did when you saw Jimin in front of yourself, standing all tall and proud. You had wished it to be a dream, wished you just had a nightmare about him joining the same team you happen to work with but reality is a goddamn bitch and it bites hard when it does. He had grown out his hair longer but he still has the same smile, same eyes and the same charm he used on you back then. Park Jimin is a man people don’t ever forget once they see him. He has an aura which traps everyone so hard they can never escape. How do you know? You have been a victim yourself.

You meticulously go through the consequences and eventualities of being in the same room as him again. You seeing him everyday and him reminding you of every single detail you have tried so hard forgetting about, the boys finding out about you both and putting you through the wringer or worse, him. The possibilities are endless and you feel the sudden urge to square everything with him.

Contrary to what you had thought, he reacted pretty normally when he saw you as if somebody had already told him about you. You had expected him to get shocked or at the very least pretend to be shocked.

Having said that, he just gave you a single nod as if you're someone he passes by every morning at the park. Are you this forgettable? Are you someone people just brush aside like that? Your father’s words echo in your ears like loud drums,

“You know, nobody will love you if you keep looking like this. Eat less”

“Girl, do you ever stop eating? Every time I see you, you're stuffing something in that mouth of yours!!”

“Don’t come running back at me when no guy gives a shit about you”

You were 10 and he was an asshole. He still is.

Thanks to him, you now have a tendency to cook when you're stressed over anything. It brings you comfort and diverts your mind from the excessive overthinking. You would go bald if it puts the voices into silent mode.

After already wasting half of your life speculating what to eat, counting calories and whatnot, you came to the terms that you can’t actually operate that way and began eating whatever the fuck you wanted. Yet still, you need to go a long way in order to fully love yourself and your body. It's a journey and you're moving ahead step by step. One day at a time.

One would even say you're hot. You have received compliments from several people over the course of time except you don’t have a thigh gap, your arms jiggle and you also happen to have a love handle. You would have adored them if it wasn’t for your dad making you feel shitty about having them.

A knock on your door stops you midway as you're kneading the dough. Biscuit runs over to you, jumping on the counter.

“Coming”

The knock comes back again, this time slightly louder.

“Oh my god wait I’m coming”

The door swings open and you gasp. “Mina?”

She passes by you, dragging her suitcase along with her.

“Hey bestie”

You close the door and follow her further into the hall. “What’s going on? What’s with the suitcase?”

Your best friend’s sudden arrival must have caught you by slight surprise but your cat is rather pleased to see her. Traitor. She starts clawing at her feet excitedly.

“What a good girl you are? Yes, you are” Mina coos at her and then glances up at you from where she has biscuit nestled in her lap,

“I need a place to live for a few days because my shitty boss kept rejecting all my articles and I really wanna bring her something worth the front page. Apparently, writing about the famous coffee shop around the corner and their secret ingredient being maple syrup wasn’t good enough.”

You round the counter and continue kneading the dough for your strawberry pie. It’s not unlikely for Mina to show up unannounced. In fact, she has done that plenty of times but the suitcase was never involved. This one is new.

“So you decided to barge in here without even asking?” You tease.

She flashes you a dramatic look. “Look at us, Destiny. Aren’t we the same girls who giggled about living together after college? With matching slippers and movie marathons?”

“Okay okay you dramatic bitch. How long are you here for?”

Biscuit runs to do her business and she gets up, setting her suitcase to the side.

She sighs, “Not sure. As long as it takes me to come up with a new topic to write about–HEY— why don’t I just write on the hockey team you work with? What are they called? Ice…ice”

“Ice Dominators” you fill in for her.

She slaps her thigh. “That’s the one”

You shrug, “I mean you can, but you’ll have to call in on the coach first. He operates everything inside and outside the team”

Coach Ian is too nice to turn her request down. He’s one of the most genuine people in the federation. Maybe this is why the team is so strong and united. He respects every single boy and receives it tenfold. It's a mutual thing.

“Shit, How come I didn’t think about that” she bites her lip, her enthusiasm replaced by nervousness.

“Don’t worry. He won’t make you work for it. Ian is as nice as they come” you assure.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out. As you watch, she opens your fridge, taking out the box of frozen blueberries and pops one into her mouth.

“Do you want me to give you a hand?” she mumbles while chewing.

You point towards the bathroom, “Go and take a shower, right now. You stinky”

You duck the blueberry she throws your way, laughing as you do. Giving your cheek one last kiss, she excuses herself.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Warm hands roam over your thigh, squeezing them. You muffle your moan with your palm and take every thrust. 

“Yeah, you like that? You like how I’m pounding into this ass right now?” 

You gasp. 

“Such a good girl” he praises.

The man behind you presses a kiss to your naked shoulder as he rasps in your ears, “Were you walking around all day dripping for me?” 

He pulls his cock out and thrusts again. You meet him with equal passion and hunger. 

“Tell me” 

You nod. 

“I need your words, Destiny” 

You cry out, “Yes Oh god, Yes. I wanted you in me so bad” 

He cups your pussy and rubs your clit with his palm until you're rolling your eyes to the back of your head and squirming. Thrust after thrust he brings you to your sweet release while talking dirty things in your ear. You're about to melt into a puddle of goo. He’s got you totally at his mercy. 

“So beautiful like this. Taking my cock so well huh?” 

“Ahh it feels so good, right there. Just right there, don’t stop” 

He bites down your shoulder, “Come for me and let everyone outside hear the name you’re screaming, you dirty whore” 

Your heartbeat picks up as you squeeze him with the tight ring of muscle, orgasm crashing over. 

“FUCK. Oh my god Jungkook!!”

Your eyes fling open and you sit up so fast your head starts spinning. Everything around you is pitch black. Wait, where am you? 

Mina is at your side in an instant, “Destiny, are you okay babe?”

You look around and release a sigh of relief. You run your fingers through your hair, ruffling them. 

“Yeah um… I’m fine. It was just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” 

Except it wasn’t. It was one hell of a dream where you were getting fucked into oblivion by your player. You're not even going to lie and say that you didn’t like it. C’mon you're a woman of needs, it’s just that, him fulfilling those needs was not on the cards for you even if it wasn't real.

You check the time on your phone and wince at the bright light flashing up at you. It’s 2:45 am and you just had a back breaking sex dream about a man who you want nothing to do with. Who, as beautiful as he is, annoys the hell out of you with those one word replies and grumpy face. An edgy feeling threatens to rise.

Oh god it’s going to be awkward now. It’s only normal to walk on eggshells around someone people have these sort of dreams about. You have read your fair share of books where the female character gets a sex dream about a man and then they don’t talk to each other for the rest of their lives. Okay, that's a bit of a stretch but it might as well not be.

Yeah, you admit you guys don’t talk to each other a lot as it is, or are longtime best friends tiptoeing around their feelings, but you're afraid you're gonna have to ignore him forever for the sake of your own sanity. 

I’m so fucked. You think.

tags - @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw

[mimikyuno]

im literally sobbing in bed trying to sleep but mizu5 literally tore my heart out. i cant stop crying fr. i genuinely think mizuki akiyama is making history as one of the best written trans characters im so serious. the kindness and carefulness in which her story is being told is mindblowing. this event was perfect tbh. im so fr. no way after such a long wait the secret was gonna be revealed with happy tears and there. done. this event Physically altered the game. it’s the only event to do so, and the only event to end on such a cliffhanger. the way the whole event gets the player to empathise fully with mizuki - you feel her anxiety and her fear and pain. and then the rooftop scene. it was unbearable. her coming out was taken away from her. she had to see ena’s shocked expression from the sidelines. ena, the one she wanted to tell the most. ena, who has been waiting for her by her side for all this time. seeing the realization dawn on ena is too much for and she runs, like she always has. even though she Knows ena was just shocked. she Knows ena and niigo will accept her.

(sidenote i cut lots of dialogue from the screenshots above bc tumblr 10 images limit)

“you’re so kind, ena.” but that does not matter. it’s all ruined. in niigo’s eyes, mizuki was just a girl. a “normal girl”, as the classmates called ena. even if niigo accepts her, she’s terrified that they’re never gonna see her as a “real girl” again. just like her classmates. this change in their perception is heartbreaking, terrifying. and even more than that is the fear that from now on, niigo is only gonna act normal around her out of pity. the thought is unbearable. it’s all ruined. nothing can ever be like before in mizuki’s eyes. her precious, safe place was ripped away from her. mizuki’s pain felt so real and raw that i still get chills when i think of the last two chapters of this event. the way ena screamed and ran after her, her desperation to reach her, her horror at seeing how much mizuki’s been suffering, the way mizuki’s coming out was also taken away from ena. their precious moment, long awaited, stolen and destroyed by some careless, transphobic comments. “are you also a dude?”. ena’s anger at herself for not being able to reassure mizuki, for not knowing what to say in the face of all that hurt and fear.

the event ends with an unskippable black screen, and mizuki’s voice saying “you reap what you sow,” and then these lines:

mizuki’s dissociation and suicidal thoughts hit me like a truck. as meiko told kaito, this situation is so fragile. and all it took was ena’s shocked expression to send mizuki into a dissociative spiral.

(continues in rb)

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 3. New Trails

Masterlist

Summary: You and Riley take the beaten path to defeat boredom. Simon realizes that the seed of his new obsession has been planted.

Warnings: mild cursing, obsessive behavior

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

Simon sat stoically on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

Next ->

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[bamsara]

I dont know if it was intentional but I love that Narinder when he sees Lamb throwing up he turns gentle and pushes their wool and ears back so they dont get stained with vomit and for some reason it reminded me of how when Nari was throwing up too after the nightmare he had when they were on route to fight Leshy, Lambert helped him with camellias for the nausea.

Ahh, parallels. I think.

IM SO GLAD YOU POINTED THAT OUT allow me to ramble for just a moment.

Narinder was trapped in the Afterlife for over 1000 years, with little social skills and plagued by wishing for vengeance and his only company being two kittens who become disciples under his rule. He has terrible social skills, if not lacking them entirely.

(I would argue that Aym and Baal also have horrific nonexistent social skills, so those three cat's can't really help each other communicate properly to anyone else outside themselves.)

It can be argued that since The One Who Waits had other vessels to pass time and try to kill /annoy his siblings before the prophesized Lamb arrival, that he would have developed them a little bit more, but I would argue that the power balance would have been oodles more severe since the vessels weren't the promised one. He didn't need them, so if they no longer were of service or disobeyed him, he got rid of them. Whether just sending them out or killing them, any how.

Lamb, however, knows they are the last Lamb, the prophesized liberator of The One Who Waits, and therefore his only option. They knew that they were his only reasonable way out of there (whether they asked for it or not) so they were oodles more comfortable than how a professional relationship would have been.

So they asked questions, bothered him, played and ran around him. Complained and vented to him. Yapped and yapped. What is he gonna do? Kill them? Find a new vessel? He can't. "You're as trapped into this prophecy as much as I am, so let's be friends"

Example parts from Chapter 3:

The power balance equalizes because Lamb did not see his presence a God, but rather a fellow prisoner and victim of fate. Rude and demanding, but in the same chains as they were. 'My lord' was simply formalities at first.

This puts Narinder / The One Who Waits in social situations he hasn't been in (or hardly been in) in over a thousand years, and frankly, he had no idea how to navigate them:

Example from Chapter 5:

The God of Death has not needed to comfort or 'be there' for someone in a long, long time. The Lamb's presence is what forces him to try, even if his first attempt aren't perfect. So in that same chapter, he'll ask them a question to distract them. Conversation. Like how they do it.

While I won't post a screenshot of everytime this happens in written format (not including the dreams/memories/flashbacks that haven't been posted yet)-

The One Who Waits is pushed outside of his bubble when it comes to socializing in a way that isn't just 'God-to-Lowly-Vessal' format. He has to talk to them like a person, because he's being talked to like a person, not a god on a pedestal.

Obviously after the final battle and betrayal (to both of them, otherwise known as the Grand Miscommunication) this means nothing for a while as tempers are still high and feelings are hurt. But overtime, this returns, and can show in small ways (ways that may not seem like comfort but is certainly an attempt) like just in Chapter 18:

Trying to bring them an 'offering' (breakfast) mirroring other times the Lamb has done the same for him:

Crudely offering to replace something they are upset at losing/later offering reassurance abet in a curt way:

And what you mentioned: earlier when the Lamb is throwing up, narration shows they're having trouble with keeping their wool, cloak, bell, ect all back at the same time. He can see that. He has a mental boiling pot explosion over the fact that helping them is even a want that he has after the denial crisis he's experiencing where the only answer a minute ago seemed like he needed to kill them, and he chose comfort.

It is intentional. Narinder is learning how to show care, and allowing himself to show care. Slowly, and not perfect, but learning.

[nerdy-novelist017]

Omg yay!! Ok obviously feel free to decline this since the subject matter could be rough for some people but, canon Benny’s reaction to what happened to Kathy was definitely my least fav part of the film and I need it to be rectified through fic🙏🏽. So could you write something about the aftermath of something like that happening to reader when her and Benny have been dating for a while? Im starved for caring and protective Benny unfortunately

Starve no more, anon ;) I have more protective Benny fics in the works! I made this one as a one shot to my Benny x Bunny series, hope that's okay! (This ISN'T the next part to Little Bunny! It's just a little one shot for after they're together ;) I'm working on getting the next part posted tonight!)

Word Count- 1.1k

Summary- Benny couldn't possibly want you after what almost happened, right?

TW- SA, 18+

*Please don't read if you are uncomfortable with the content!

Life Raft (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

Benny was going to be so upset with you.

Your hands shook from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You blinked and the tears burning your eyes threatened to spill over. Kathy’s hand rubbed the spot between your shoulder blades soothingly as she sat on the edge of the bed with you. Downstairs, you could hear the party wrapping up, Johnny and Funny Sonny trying to get everybody to leave. The party was over, too many bad things had happened for everyone to just pretend they didn’t see it, pretend they didn’t hear it.

You swallowed roughly, the events of the last hour still looping in your mind. The way his cold eyes raked over your body, the way he smiled sinisterly as you backed away. The course palm of his hand that wrapped around your throat, pinning you against the wall. His hot breath fanning across your mouth as his tongue invaded. His other hand going up your skirt, grazing the line of your panties. 

You squeezed your eyes shut at that part. You had screamed, but Benny wasn’t there. Kathy wasn’t there. Zipco wasn’t there. Brucie wasn’t there. You were alone with this man, prey to this predator. And who even was this man? You hadn’t seen him before, even though he wore the colors you had been so used to seeing almost every day. More chapters were popping up everywhere and with it, came new faces to the parties, meetings and picnics. Strangers, dangerously prowling through the club now, waiting for opportunities of solitude to attack.

You had only left the bonfire for a moment, telling Benny that you were going inside to grab a soda from the fridge. They only ever had beer coolers outside by the fire. You would only be gone for a moment. But a moment was all this animal needed as he stalked into the kitchen after you.

You were alone and that realization sent ice through your veins. This animal could do whatever he wanted, and you were powerless to stop it.

And then suddenly Johnny was there, grabbing this man and throwing him away from you. You were stuck against the wall, frozen in fear as you watched Wahoo and Corky jump into the fight as well. The two dragged the man out of the room, heading for the back door.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” Johnny asked, trying to make eye contact with your frantic gaze. He reached out slowly and pulled the hem of your dress back down to cover your trembling legs. “C’mon, let Kathy get you upstairs.”

You hadn’t even realized Kathy was there too now. She wrapped her arms around you, guiding you to the stairs. 

“B—Benny?” You tried to ask and Johnny nodded. 

“I’ll get him for ya,” he said, eyes empathetic.

That seemed to be hours ago. Or maybe it was only a few minutes. You weren’t sure; everything felt a little hazy. However long it was, Kathy never left your side, having planted herself next to you. You tried to say something to her, to thank her, but your throat was too dry and your mind too incoherent. You felt dirty and scared and you just wanted to go home. 

Benny was going to be so upset with you. 

Footsteps climbed the stairs and you stiffened at the sound. Benny appeared in the doorway and you wanted to sob. The man you wanted to run to, the man you wanted to hold you tight and carry you back to safety stood there, a dark expression on his face. With one look at Kathy, he dismissed her. She squeezed your arm gently. 

“I’ll be right downstairs if ya need me,” she promised softly and then she was gone. Benny closed the door behind her and a heavy silence filled the bedroom.

Your heart raced as he moved to stand at the dresser across from you. You could see the tension radiating from him and you swallowed back any kind of hope for him to love you still. 

“What happened?” he asked finally, his voice wavering with barely-controlled anger.

“I-I just wanted a pop. I just came in-inside and he—he . . . I couldn’t—couldn’t get away—” The words tumbled out of your mouth incoherently. 

“Which one?” 

You looked up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. “I—I don’t . . . Did Johnny not—”

“Johnny didn’t tell me who. Just told me . . .” His words died as he looked at the purple marks forming on your neck. His jaw clenched hard and he looked away from you. Your heart sunk at the action. He couldn’t even look at you anymore. He was so disgusted that he couldn’t even look at you. You could feel him slipping through your fingers and total desperation hit you like a wave. The ocean, you thought, that's what it felt like. You were lost in the middle of the ocean and a storm broke a nasty hole in your tiny ship. You were sinking, drowning in that vast, dark water.

The tears broke free from their dam and rolled down your cheeks as a sob caught in your throat. “I’m—I’m so sorry, B—Benny. Please forgive me.”

“Forgive you?” He looked back at you but you couldn’t face his hard gaze. 

Looking down at your lap, you cried. “Please don’t be upset with m—me. I’m sorry.”

He crossed the distance between you, lowering himself to his knees before you. You squeezed your eyes shut to avoid his gaze, heart shattering in your chest.

His warm hands enveloped yours tightly. “Bunny.”

Please don’t leave me here to pick myself up, you wanted to say. Please don’t abandon me to this darkness, I'm already drowning. I'm still me. I'm still your girl.

“Bunny, look at me.” His voice was so soft, just barely above a whisper. 

You obeyed his gentle command. His face was inches below yours, eyes examining. Slowly, he lifted his hand and his fingertips ghosted over the bruises forming on your throat. His brows pinched together but his eyes were soft as they returned to yours. His fingers traveled over the curve of your jaw and up to swipe the heavy flow of tears from beneath your eyes.

“I could never be upset with you, Bunny," he whispered. “I could never.” 

Your hands came up to grip his wrists as if he were a life raft holding you afloat. His hands, you realized, were shaking slightly and you held even tighter, anchoring him to you. 

“I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself. Angry that I wasn’t there to protect you.” His voice wavered, tears rimming his beautiful blue eyes. “I promised to always protect you and I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry, Bunny. I’m so, so sorry.”

Words failed you, but you never needed them for Benny. You threw your arms around his neck, burying yourself into his chest. He reacted immediately, pulling you impossibly close as he moved to sit on the bed beside you. You cried, and he let you.

And when Johnny came to check on you, that’s how he found you: curled into your Benny's chest, his arms a protective shield from the rest of the world as he whispered into your ear, hands running gently through your hair. And Johnny knew that you’d be okay, because you had Benny. And Benny would be okay because Johnny and his boys had already taken care of the ex-Vandal who dared to lay a hand on their little bunny.

*Tag List *

@Imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer

[i-cant-sing]

i was just minding my business like scrolling to find new fics to read since i was so so bored and while i was finding some delicious fics (ahem ahem: yandere big brother bakugou x little sister reader) ur post suddenly idk the word (lumitaw (its a filo word)) and i was screaming and immediately dropped what i was supposed to read to read yours 😭😭😭

i got the worst memory ever to exist because i keep forgetting their names but i think i'll grasp them once the next chapter is out (hopefully) but yeaaah!!! baris reminds me of abbas in a way but ig he's a bit more.. brute yk what im talking about????? ig he's ok..

OH! and i have a theory about the painting, y/n's face getting smudged maybe because baldwin or SALAUDDIN decided to smudged it to forget how they look due to heartbroken (prob not baldwin,, but i feel like salauddin would do that ??) i guess im getting married again 😔😔 i feel like im betraying my pookie salauddin 💔💔💔🙏🙏 BUT ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THE UPDATE SNOW!!!! AMAZING AS ALWAYS!! can't wait for the next one already!! 😭😭😭 i think i'll send more of my thoughts if something crosses over my mind (prob when im in the shower)

ooohh i like your theory(portrait pictures at the end). i like it a lot. expanding on it:

Baldwin would probably cause the painting to be smudged because he's kissing it, kissing your lips, drunk off his mind, tears streaming down his cheek as he spends hours sitting in front of it, talking to the painting as if u still exist, begging u to come back from heaven, even apologising for all he's done, just please- come back, angel...

Meanwhile Salauddin would probably be staring at your portrait angrily. He understands why you had to leave but.... you couldnt have told him where you were goinh? Do you not think he couldve protected you? He wouldve used his whole army, gathered Muslims from all around the world to protect you. Did you... did you not have the least bit faith in him? deep down, he knows u did this to prevent a war between him and baldwin but.... Salauddin wouldve gone to war for you. Happily. This wasnt your decision to make alone. Now, he stands in front of your portrait, he has it in his palace now, and he doesnt say voice it out like baldwin, but he has complaints. HE keeps them inside, mentally talking to you, telling you just how stupid you were for sacrificing yourself, for jumping off that stupid cliff. How u shouldve just- just asked him for help ONCE, and he wouldve fought until his last breath if it meant keeping u safe. In his mind, u sacrificed yourself to protect Baldwin from murdering innocent muslims or anyone else u wouldve seeked help from.

And now? All Salauddin can do is pray for you. He wakes up late into the night and sits on the prayer mat, making dua for you for hours, reading Quran for you, has animals slaughtered on eid on your behalf, even doing charity and hajj (pilgrimage) on your behalf, just so that you can have more good deeds in your name. He still has the chess board u gifted him, but he's stopped playing chess. He never played the game again, it was only a painful reminder of you. The one person who he could never beat.

As for your painting, why it was smudged? Salauddin didnt want anyone to see your beauty, thats why he kept the portrait hidden in his room, but then he feared that one day when he's not around anymore, someone will see you. So, he used a rag soaked in turpentine to smudge your face, but couldnt do more than just the bottom half of your face. He thought that was fine, after all, thats how u did often appear when you were around, wearing a niqaab, a veil that covered your face.

Now that he looks at your eyes, he realises his mistake. He heard the wise tell him-

"Eyes are the windows to the soul."

He now knows it to be true.

This is what I think the portraits look like:

Notice that this is the earrings Salauddin gifted Y/n when she was in the market with him:

How Baldwin's been:

[archiverstappen]

Hi I hope you’re well!! I just read the new chapter of the cat sitter and ugh I love that series so fucking much!! I was listening to a song and just knew you could create this.

So it a Max x reader smau where the reader is a mega pop star. Like Taylor Swift big and all eyes are on her. She gets invited to an F1 race by Redbull and joins their after party and gets to meet Max. Unfortunately Max is still dating K*lly. Reader is completely enamored by Max and writes break up with your girlfriend, I’m bored literally released it the next week. Everyone is losing their fucking mind trying to figure out who it is. Max knows it’s about him and he’s playing it cool and breaks it off with K*lly and starts secretly dating reader. Reader drops an album full of love/spicy songs like Gorgeous, Lover, Dress, 34+35, Positions etc etc and fucking hard launches them. Thanks!! If this is way too long and convoluted feel free to ignore.

Can’t wait to read more of your work because you absolutely body smau, it’s so good and the meme reaction pictures you use *chefs kiss*

break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored ✧ max verstappen

max verstappen x fem! singer! reader

masterlist

I LOVE THIS IDEA!! thank you @todaynotseen for your request🤍

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ynupdates

liked by username and 492.289 others

ynupdates guess who is spotted at the paddock! y/n is at the austin gp as red bull’s special guest 🥰

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username SLAY 🧎‍♀️

username can’t wait to see her interactions with the drivers!

username i’m surprised that she even had the time to go to a race? i thought she was super busy with the tour😭

↳ username i hope she’s taking care of herself🥲

username THAT OUTFIT?!??! 😍😍

username im not saying that y/n is the most beautiful girl that has ever walked the earth but that is exactly what im saying 🤷🏻‍♂️

username Hey @/redbullracing, how about inviting someone who actually gets F1 for a change? I’m so sick of seeing a random celebrity who probably don’t know a thing about racing

↳ username uHM excuse me?!?? y/n’s brother has always been a big fan of f1 and she often goes with him to watch the races😭

username ma’am please get back to the studio, i need more music😩

[messages]

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[messages]

[twitter]

[spotify]

[instagram]

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1 and 7.037.222 others

yourusername my muse <3

tagged maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1 Lover💙

taylorswift 😍

landonorris Max can’t stop singing your songs 😒

↳ danielricciardo Yeah, it’s getting annoying

↳ maxverstappen1 Ok, no signed CD for you guys

↳ landonorris WHAT NO IM SORRY PLEASE DONT MY SISTER WILL KILL ME 😭

brotherusername 😩😩😩

↳ yourusername couldn’t do this without you big bro😘

-

pictures (c) to pinterest and instagram

[webslingingslasher]

IM GLAD YOURE GOOD <333

also whilst we’re here. you know how girls get scary horny right before their periods? like i need to be tied to a tree like a wolf when im ab to get mine JDJDJDJ

peters never had a gf before trouble and the first time it happens he fr thinks he’s in HEAVEN. he doesn’t understand but she’s just on him 24/7 and he’s living for it. but also confused bc he can’t think of what he’s done differently to have u pouncing on him 24/7 but he’s not complaining djdjdnd

BOYFRIEND FRAT!PETER LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO

-i've literally had this done for like two months but i got scared and let it collect dust. not anymore bby!!!-

for the fourth time today, peter tilted his shoulder towards his face to sniff his shirt. it smells just fine, it's clean cotton. he didn't get a new fabric softener so it couldn't be that, and it's not like he got a new cologne or soap.

peter couldn't place it, but something about him lately has you absolutely feral. especially today, he almost had to peel you away from his skin so he could go to class.

'i missed you so much,' you moved quicker than peter's ever seen, his feet haven't even come to a stop on the pavement before you're kissing him.

it becomes more sensual than he's willing to provide in public.

'it was an hour, trouble. what'd you do, wait for me?' peter meant it in a teasing way, he didn't expect you to nod quickly. 'yes. you're about to open your instagram to thirty messages, i'm so sorry.'

your palms race over his arms, something about him seems ultra soft today. in the least joking way possible, he really does feel like boyfriend material. and he was all yours.

'did you know i love you? like, so much.' he did, but he still loves to have a reminder. 'i love you so much it's uncool.' you've got a glazed look in your eye.

peter knows that look and if he's being honest, he's done nothing to deserve it. the last two days you haven't been able to keep your hands off him.

is this what people mean by the honeymoon phase?

'i love you too, trouble. what's got you so mushy recently?'

puffed cheeks, no regard and absolutely no reason to hold back. 'i just really wanna fuck you.' peter takes a sharp breath, something about you being bold makes his knees weak. it must be his desire to please.

'i would, i really, really would...' with gentle scratches up and down the back of your arm, you know he's setting you up for a no. you whine and pout up at him.

'no! you're not allowed! just say yes, please say yes!'

it's literally tearing him up inside. 'baby, i'm already going to be late for my library session. i also have a chapter meeting tonight.'

'do you really-'

'yes.' there was no way he'd be budging on that one. peter made you know you were number one priority, frat responsibilities sat right under you.

if he was suggesting you'd have to wait until late, or worse, the next day, you'd die.

'what about after the library? before the meeting?'

peter's never seen you so persistent. he really doesn't know what he's done, but he won't complain one bit. he'll be a little crunched for time, but that's no reason to let you down.

'if we use your dorm, yes, i think we can make it work.'

peter’s forced to balance himself, you attacked him with a bear hug and nuzzled into his chest. ‘thank you, thank you, thank you! i’ll tell my roommate right now!’

seconds tick. he’s already late and you’re not moving, keeping him in your grasp while your thumbs fly across your phone to send out a message.

‘trouble, you’re making me late.’ because you’d be offended if he pushed you away.

a finger is held up, ramped texting takes priority. ‘trouble,’ the second you feel yourself pushed to the side you huff up at him. 'don't toss me off to the side like i'm some toy, i'm your girlfriend.'

'you're not a toy, you're just not listening, therefore making me late.'

your arms cross over your chest, 'fine. whatever, go.' peter is nowhere in the wrong, but you're making him feel like he is. if this was before, he could just walk away. but now, he has to pause and address your concerns.

he's still adjusting to boyfriend duties.

'don't get mad with me, i'm being very nice.' he is, he even let you gently bully him into getting him into your room in an hour and a half. you hold your stance, it takes a few seconds, but he catches on.

'you're not mad, you're pouty. don't be pouty, you're gonna see me in an hour.'

a toddler grumble, 'i'm gonna miss you too much.'

peter really doesn't know where the sudden desperation came from, he really needs to check in with you, but if he's any later, he's gonna piss off a whole room of people.

'i'll miss you too, trouble.' it appeases you enough, you finally allow him to pass. peter isn't able to go a full three steps until you tell him to wait, he realizes his mistake.

'sorry, c'mere.' three quick kisses, you make it hard to pull away. 'love you,' he allows you to sneak another kiss. 'love you too, petey.'

—-

one thing you loved about peter was that he was always on time, at least for you he was. just like he promised, he was at your door an hour and a half later with a hand on his stomach.

‘i’m missing dinner for this, i could be having a nice catered meal with the boys, but no, it wasn’t allowed.’

‘that’s very kind of you, handsome.’

‘i just needed to let you know, you know, in case i go lethargic or my stomach starts growling.’

‘as long as you don’t pass out on top of me, gerald’s game scared me.’ peter holds his fingers up in a scouts honor, ‘i promise.’ it’s all it takes, you reach for his shirt, clenching the fabric, you tug him in. shutting the door and slamming him against it, your lips on his in a minute.

peter’s mind is spinning, he’s never been pushed up against a wall. it feels nice, it’s a good feeling to know someone wants him so badly a tinge of aggression comes with it.

your kisses trail over his jawline, you’ve never been so desperately horny in your entire life, something about him has you dialed to ten recently. it could be the impending period, but that just feels like a fraction of the reason.

feeling slightly guilty you’ve ruined his meal plan, you pull back, just for a second to rip his shirt off. when his skin is shown, your hands race over it, he’s toned, and tanned, and down right delicious.

you scatter kisses over his chest, peering up at him. ‘are they saving you a plate?’ peter looks down, he’s lost at your words. you’re asking about plates while worshiping his body?

‘huh?’ a trail of wet marks across his collarbone.

‘dinner. are they saving you a plate?’

how do you expect him to answer while you nibble a bruise on the bottom of his neck? ‘i don’t…’ peter takes a sharp inhale, he never knew he had a sweet spot until you found it. it’s behind his ear, and he has to lean down, just slightly, but it’s so, so worth it.

‘i don’t know, probably not. guys don’t think about stuff like that.’

you pull away with a pop, raising your thumb to brush over the red mark. ‘hold on,’ you turn for your phone abandoned on your bed, on the walk over you take your own shirt off.

it’s a quick text and a quicker response, your guilty conscience cleared. ‘done. ethan said he’ll save you one.’

‘my hero.’

you jump to your bed, shimmying your pants off before sitting up on your knees, you get into position, shaking your hips at your boyfriend before arching slightly.

‘are we thinking doggy?’

peter’s still stuck to the door, ‘you wanna start with doggy? what happened to foreplay?’

you move to your back to tug your underwear off, you were only following his words. ‘you said we would be strapped for time, i’m making it easier.’

‘by blowing past the most important thing and having me jam it into you?’

you narrow your eyes at him, ‘once upon a time you didn’t care about foreplay.’

‘that’s old peter, he’s dead.’

‘let’s revive him.’

peter finally steps away from the door, he feels ten times warmer. his arms move around like he’s trying to clear the air, ‘alright, hold on, we need to talk.’

four words that are forced to put the night on pause, he could wait for a heart to heart after. ‘let’s not.’ you reach for his jeans, he steps out of reach. ‘peter! you were the one that said it would be a time crunch, i’m doing my best here, let’s go.’

‘not until you tell me why you’re so possessive lately. this whole week, you can’t get enough of me. what’s going on?’

peter’s starting to think you have some doubts running through your head and if you have enough of yourself to him he’d stick around. it’s a bogus idea but you’ve done it before to him, maybe it’s worse because there’s more to lose now with the title.

‘i’m horny.’ there wasn’t much else to add. he’s just made you wildly needy this entire week, but peter wasn't buying it. with crossed arms he waited until you really told him what was going on.

you groan, the quicker you explain, the quicker you get what you wanted. 'fine, what do you know about the menstrual cycle?'

'as little as possible.' while he's slightly more knowledgeable than most men his age, everything he's learned has been against his will.

'great. i just got off mine two weeks ago, i'm ovulating, aka, my body wants a baby real bad. not just any baby, your baby, that's why i'm so horny for you.' you hope it's enough to appease him, you shuffle around on the bed.

'fucking in this bed sucks.' there's little room for peter but you did what you could with the space you had. 'also, expect this monthly. cause, it's gonna be your problem now that you're my boyfriend.'

peter breathes deep, 'that has got to be... the best problem i've ever had in my entire life.' peter moves so quickly your head spins, he's on his knees in front of the bed while you're pulled to the edge.

kisses up the inside of your thigh has you pulling at his hair, 'peter, you're gonna be late.' you suck in hair as he nibbles on your skin. 'we don't have time for this.'

it pauses him, peter looks up into your eyes, a cocky smirk forms. 'my girl has a primal urge, and it's my job to take care of it.' 

[joelsrose]

Guns and Roses: Chapter 8

here she iss eeeek insert monkey hiding emoji im scaredddd of yallll haha side note - i lowkey picture Caleb as Adam Brody from Nobody wants this but imagine him as you wish

previous chapters

The air thickened, suffocating and heavy, as Tommy’s words sank deep, each one like a leaden weight dropping into the quiet depths of your mind.

Joel was gone.

The world seemed to tilt, a hollow ache unfurling within your chest, spreading with a pang that left you breathless. Just yesterday, he had been here, a solid, reassuring presence beside you. How was it possible that he had simply… vanished?

His warmth clung to you, hauntingly vivid—the scent of his worn flannel lingering in the air like a ghost. You could still feel the subtle intimacy of that final night together, the easy quiet that had stretched between you beneath a sky scattered with stars. His shoulder had pressed against yours in quiet solidarity, his steady breaths breaking the silence, grounding you in a way you hadn’t fully appreciated until now.

Every detail replayed, sharpened by his absence, each memory carving a deeper hollow within you. He had spoken softly, apologizing, explaining, baring a part of himself he rarely showed, and you had made a promise—a desperate promise that he wouldn’t lose you.

And now, with that promise hanging in the still, empty air, you felt like you could hardly breathe.

Late last night, he’d lain beside you, his hand warm and grounding on your arm, each gentle stroke of his fingers slow and tender, as if he was memorizing the shape of you. Those soft, lingering touches left you breathless, daring you to imagine a world where this could last—where he might finally be yours.

Now, that memory felt fragile, like something barely grasped from the edges of a fading dream, slipping further away the more desperately you tried to hold onto it. The warmth, the tenderness, the quiet promise nestled in his touch—it was all dissolving into something hazy and unreachable, leaving only the ache of his absence behind.

Questions surged, one after another, relentless and raw.

Why now? Why after all the moments that tethered you to him? Had you misstepped, said something to push him away, or was it something left unspoken?

Or, perhaps, had this always been inevitable, a slow unraveling that you’d been too afraid to see?

Your voice wavered, a faint tremor betraying the fragile hope you clung to—a hope that, somehow, this was all just a mistake.

A simple misunderstanding.

Maybe Tommy had it wrong. Maybe Joel was only out gathering supplies or down at the market, grabbing something for dinner, about to walk back through the door with that familiar, unhurried stride. Any moment now, you told yourself, as if willing him into existence.

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” The question slipped from your lips, barely more than a whisper, hanging thick in the quiet air. The weight of it lingered, pressing into the silence, as though waiting—just as you were—for an answer that might make everything right again.

Tommy’s face tightened, worry etching lines deep into his brow, his gaze heavy with a fear he was barely holding back.

“He left early this morning,” Tommy murmured, his voice low and thick with a heaviness he couldn’t quite hide. “Just before dawn. The folks at the gate saw him with Ellie, said it looked like they were headed out on a quick supply run.”

He paused, swallowing as his eyes drifted past you, as though searching for some unseen answer. “But… they haven’t come back. Hours have gone by, and their places are empty—Ellie’s room, Joel’s…” His words trailed off, and his gaze shifted, a shadow of dread flickering across his face. “I don’t see any of his things downstairs. Not a trace.”

Each word settled into the silence between you, the weight of what he wasn’t saying sinking in, thick and foreboding.

Your heart seemed to stop, caught in a painful, suspended beat, as though time itself had faltered. The familiar sight of Joel’s worn work boots by the door, his rifle resting against the wall, his jacket—a constant, comforting fixture draped in your doorway—was gone. The absence felt like a wound, a piece of him violently torn from the space you’d shared, leaving nothing but a hollow, unsettling silence in its place.

Tommy paced the room, his shoulders rigid, his eyes locked on the floor as if searching for some hidden answer in the worn planks. “Did he… did he say anything to you? Act… different?” His voice broke, the words laced with a frantic desperation he couldn’t quite mask, each syllable threaded with a rising panic he fought to keep at bay.

“No… no, he didn’t say anything,” you stammered, the words barely escaping as panic coiled tighter around your throat.

Tommy’s gaze softened, but there was something raw in his eyes, a disbelief that seemed to waver, shaking the resolve he was so desperately clinging to. “Joel… he doesn’t just disappear like that. Not him.” His voice cracked, the tension in his tone betraying the fear he tried to bury beneath his words. “We’ve already got people out looking, but…”

“What if… what if something happened to them?” The question slipped out, trembling, every syllable weighted with the dark possibility you’d been trying to keep at bay.

“Hey.” Tommy stepped closer, his hand settling firmly on your shoulder, a solid, grounding presence amid the chaos spiraling through your mind. “We don’t know that,” he said, his voice calm but charged with urgency. “They’re tough—you know they are. But we need to move, and we need to move fast.”

A surge of determination flooded through you, sweeping away the fear that had nearly anchored you in place. You took a steadying breath, nodding to Tommy, and followed him out of the room, each step quick and resolute despite the dull ache pulsing through your leg. The discomfort faded into the background, pushed aside by the urgency driving you forward—there was no space for weakness, not now.

As you stepped outside, the sun had already dipped low, casting a fierce, amber glow over the horizon. The world was bathed in a fading warmth, a fleeting light slipping into shadow as dusk descended, cloaking everything in quiet anticipation.

No matter where they were, no matter how far you’d have to go, you would find them—no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice. Joel had been your anchor in the storm, the steady, unbreakable presence who had saved you more times than you could count. He’d been there, unwavering, his voice guiding you through the darkest nights, his strength carrying your burdens when you could no longer bear them alone.

Now, it was your turn to be relentless. You owed him that much.

•••

You and Tommy rode through the wilderness on horseback, moving silently under the cover of night. The rhythmic hoofbeats thudded against the ground, muffled by a thick layer of fallen leaves, the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet. The moon hung high above, casting silver shadows over the trees, but offered little warmth, and even less comfort. There was no calling out, no shouting their names; a single echo could draw attention from raiders—or worse, infected lurking in the woods, hidden in the inky dark.

The hours dragged on, each minute blurring into the next, stretching into an eternity as you scoured the trail. Your flashlight cut through the dark, casting narrow beams over twisted branches, scattered leaves, the faint outlines of abandoned cabins and crumbling fences—yet there was nothing.

No trace of Joel or Ellie. You searched desperately for any sign: footprints, a drop of blood, anything to tell you they’d passed this way.

The air bit into your skin, each gust of wind stinging your cheeks, but you barely registered the cold. It felt distant, insignificant against the gnawing dread growing steadily in your chest. With every step, the silence pressed heavier, yet you refused to slow, driven by a single thought—finding them, whatever it took.

Tommy rode slightly ahead, his gaze darting to the shadows that moved along with the trees. He would glance back at you now and then, his expression a mix of determination and worry, as if he shared the same stubborn resolve but feared what he might find—or not find—in the end.

Each mile you covered without a trace of them chipped away at your hope, your initial conviction giving way to an aching uncertainty. You felt your heart race with each bend in the trail, hoping, praying that around this corner, or maybe the next, you’d see them, that familiar, solid figure of Joel watching over Ellie as he always did. But every turn led only to more shadows, the dark swallowing each ounce of hope you tried to cling to.

The cold seeped deeper into your bones as the hours passed, a slow, creeping chill that even the steady, jostling movement of the horse couldn’t shake. Your grip on the reins tightened, knuckles white, muscles tense as you fought to keep moving, refusing to let your exhaustion show.

But as the night wore on and your flashlight flickered in and out, casting faint shadows along the trail, a heavy realization settled over you.

You were running out of time.

•••

You found yourself back at Tommy and Maria’s house, the quiet weight of the late hour pressing down on everything. Maria stayed close, her hand a gentle but firm presence on your shoulder as she guided you to sit, her movements tender. “Just take a moment, sweetheart,” she murmured, pressing a warm mug of tea into your trembling hands. Her voice was low, soft as a lullaby, each word laced with quiet reassurance. But the comfort felt thin, hollow—a shadow of solace in the absence of the one thing you truly needed.

A surge of frustration flared within you, hot and suffocating, threatening to consume the fragile composure you clung to. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, blurring the dim room as the questions swirled, relentless and unforgiving.

Why did he leave? Was he hurt? Dead?

The uncertainty gnawed at you, twisting deeper with every silent second, each tick of the clock amplifying the aching void he’d left behind.

“I just… I don’t understand why they’d leave like that,” you whispered, your voice trembling, barely more than a fractured breath.

Tommy stood in the hallway, pacing once more, his footsteps a muted rhythm against the walls, each step laced with his own silent worry.

Maria settled beside you, her hand resting warmly on your shoulder, an anchor in the swirling tide of your worry. “I know, honey,” she murmured, her voice soft, filled with a compassion that felt both comforting and achingly bittersweet.

Her gaze held yours for a moment, then she offered a small, reassuring smile. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? Just for a bit, hm? Give yourself a chance to breathe.”

You managed a nod, unable to find words past the tightness lodged in your throat.

Deep down, you knew Maria was right—you needed rest, a sliver of calm to steady yourself. But as you lifted the mug to your lips, the warmth did little to soften the hollow ache gnawing inside you. The tea, the gentle comfort, none of it could fill the void left by his absence.

All you wanted—all you needed—was Joel.

•••

You tried to eat, but each bite felt like swallowing shards of glass, the anxiety coiled tight around your throat, refusing to loosen. Staying at Tommy and Maria’s only magnified the loneliness; every quiet, familiar corner of their home served as a relentless reminder of Joel’s absence.

The routine you’d fallen into with him—those stolen glances over morning coffee, the quiet, easy conversations under starlit skies, the warmth of his presence near you—now felt like memories from another life.

It had been a week now. A week of riding along rugged trails, combing through barren fields and dense forests, silently calling out into the dark, praying for even a flicker of his shadow.

Hours spent on horseback, searching until your legs burned, and nights of restless tossing and turning in a bed that felt all the more empty and cold.

Every night, you and Tommy would return empty-handed, the weight of defeat pressing down on both of you as you rode back in silence. And every night, Maria would be there, a cup of tea in hand, her eyes soft with worry, her presence unwavering. She’d sit beside you, her hand resting gently on your shoulder, a steadying presence as she tried to lend you some of her quiet strength.

“Sweetie,” she’d murmur, her voice a soothing balm against the raw ache in your chest, “I’m sure he’s fine. Joel’s the toughest person I know. He’ll come back any day now.” The words would change, the phrasing slightly different each time, but the message stayed the same—that he was fine, that he’d come back.

But it wasn’t enough.

But you shook your head, anguish spilling from your heart and filling the space between you. “You don’t know that, Maria.” The words came out sharper than you intended, tinged with a desperation you couldn’t hold back, fear and sorrow woven into every syllable.

As the first tear slipped down your cheek, the floodgates opened, and you felt the weight of it all—the fear, the unanswered questions, the hollow ache of his absence—crash down on you.

The world felt like it was closing in, darkness pressing against the last flicker of faith within you. But even as you trembled, heart aching with an unspoken plea, you refused to let go of that hope, dim but unyielding.

You couldn’t lose him—not now, not after everything.

•••

Six months.

Six months had crawled by—a slow, painful stretch marked by the fading of summer’s warmth and the creeping chill of winter. The once-vibrant air, alive with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and laughter echoing through Jackson’s streets, had turned crisp and silent, as if holding its breath.

The landscape shifted, the lush greens giving way to brittle browns and steely grays, trees stripped bare, their branches stark against the somber sky. Snow draped the ground, muffling the sounds of daily life.

Christmas was approaching, but the usual festive spirit was dampened to you, swallowed up by the bleakness of winter. Jackson itself had changed; the streets that once pulsed with the warmth of camaraderie now felt strangely deserted, the weight of the cold driving everyone indoors.

Flickering lights in windows were the only hints of life in the wintry gloom, a reminder that, even in this frozen quiet, people clung to routine. Each day, the sun rose half-heartedly, casting a pale, listless glow that barely seeped through the thick, oppressive clouds.

Since Joel and Ellie had left, you’d been staying with Maria and Tommy. It was an unspoken agreement, a shared understanding that you all needed each other to get through this. Returning to your own place felt unbearable. You’d stop by now and then, just to keep things in order, but the emptiness inside those walls weighed too heavily on you.

Every corner of your home seemed haunted by memories of him—the kitchen where he’d quietly worked, assembling dinners with a surprising tenderness, the living room where he’d settled close beside you, his quiet presence filling the space.

And your bed, where traces of his warmth lingered like an imprint on your heart. The silence in those rooms was razor-sharp, each echo of him too raw, too overwhelming to face alone.

From your window, the world seemed a reflection of your own heart: numb, blanketed in a persistent, aching silence. You watched as Christmas lights went up in Jackson, their soft twinkling swallowed by the heavy, endless gray, like distant stars in an unyielding void.

You’d been drifting in a numb haze, the days blurring together into a colorless stretch of time. A heavy fog wrapped around your thoughts, dulling every sensation until nothing felt real. Each morning bled into the next, weeks passing without distinction as you moved through life on autopilot.

You ate, you slept, you helped Maria with whatever needed doing. You went on patrol nearly every other day, half for distraction, half—though you didn’t admit it to yourself —in the quiet, desperate hope of catching some trace of them. But nothing held meaning. Each task was empty, a hollow ritual performed on borrowed time.

Memories drifted through your mind, stolen glances and shared laughter slipping away like fragile snowflakes, melting before you could hold onto them. The quiet conversations, his voice low and steady, the way his eyes would soften just for you—each memory surfaced only to fade, leaving behind an ache that settled deep in your bones, a constant, unyielding reminder of everything you’d lost.

Every time the gate creaked open, your heart leapt to your throat, a brief, painful surge of hope that maybe—just maybe—it was him. You’d rush to the window, breath caught, anticipation tightening in your chest.

But each time, the flicker of hope shattered, leaving you with the heavy, familiar ache of disappointment. The emptiness that settled in your stomach felt like a lead weight, dragging you back into a despair that felt inescapable.

Joel was everywhere and nowhere, haunting the edges of Jackson like a lingering shadow, an echo reverberating through a hollow space. Each corner of this town held pieces of him, fragments woven into the fabric of your days, reminders of a bond now stretched across an impossible distance.

You saw him in the stables, the scent of hay and leather stirring memories of his quiet strength, his gentle hands calming restless horses. In the dining hall, a glimpse of an empty chair tugged painfully at you, bringing back the rough warmth of his laughter, the way his gaze would linger on you just a moment too long when he thought no one else was watching.

Walking past the workshop, the faint hum of tools conjured memories of him bent over his work, sleeves rolled up, the intensity in his eyes softened only by the rare, almost shy smiles he’d save just for you. Even in the simple rhythm of Jackson’s streets, you felt his presence—a figure rounding the corner, a low voice in the distance, each one a cruel mirage, dissolving the moment you got too close.

He was everywhere and nowhere, an ache that settled deep in your bones, a ghost that followed you, unshakable, as though he was still here, just out of reach. Every memory sharpened the yearning, the quiet desperation to have him back beside you, to feel his hand graze yours, to see him in flesh and blood rather than in the flickering fragments that now consumed you.

As snow drifted gently outside, blanketing the world in a pristine layer of white, you allowed yourself a moment to slip back into memories. Outside, the world lay silent and frozen, but in your heart, a faint warmth lingered, a stubborn ember that refused to be extinguished.

Even in the heart of winter, a flicker of hope persisted, like a quiet promise that spring would come again.

•••

Maria’s figure had transformed, her belly now round with the weight of new life as she neared her last trimester. You could see the way Tommy clung to the anticipation of his child’s arrival as if it were a lifeline, his focus locked on the future as a shield against the shadows that had crept into your lives since Joel and Ellie’s departure.

The excitement of a new beginning felt bittersweet, casting a harsh light on the hollow space left by Joel’s absence. You saw Tommy’s attempts to mask his worry in forced laughter, the strain showing in his eyes, his gaze clouded with an unshakable concern that he carried silently, like an invisible scar.

Months ago, you’d both stopped mentioning Joel, a silent understanding forming between you and Tommy. Hope had become a delicate thing, slipping through your fingers like sand. Instead of grappling with the gnawing possibility of Joel’s fate, you filled the empty spaces with small talk, with musings over nursery colors and baby names, each word a distraction, a balm against the ache of what might be true.

With your leg fully healed, you spent your days at Maria's side, helping her with tasks that had grown too challenging in her final trimester. The rhythm of daily chores brought a small comfort, a steadying anchor in a sea of uncertainty, as you focused on caring for someone else.

Yet, beneath the surface, an unease shadowed your every action, a quiet tension in the space between you and Maria. You both fell into an unspoken game of play-pretend, smiles and small laughter filling the silences, as though you could craft a reality where Joel’s absence didn’t weigh so heavily.

But you both knew, deep down, that everything had changed. Life had shifted in a way that couldn’t be undone. Each meal prepared, every chore tended to, reminded you of the hollow truth: Joel could be gone. He might never come back. And the thought was like a wound that never fully healed, a grief that echoed in the quiet moments—a phantom ache for someone who felt as much a part of you as your own heartbeat, but who remained painfully out of reach.

Helping Maria set up the nursery, sorting through baby clothes and arranging tiny blankets, you often found your gaze drifting to the window, half-expecting to see him coming up the path, his familiar stride cutting through the cold. But the streets remained empty, the winter air heavy with silence.

In those moments, the world felt impossibly vast and indifferent, a stark reminder of all you had lost and all that might never return.

•••

It was 2 a.m. when you were jolted awake by a scream that tore through the stillness of the night. Your heart pounded as you leapt out of bed, rushing down the hall toward Maria’s room, adrenaline surging through your veins. Tommy was there by her side, wide-eyed and tense, his body coiled with worry.

“It’s happening!” Maria gasped, her voice raw with both pain and urgency. Her face was pale, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and determination as she gripped the edge of the bed, her breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts.

“Oh, God. Okay!” you stammered, fighting to steady yourself against the wave of panic surging up, clawing at your composure. “I’ll—I’ll get the doctor!” The words tumbled out, breathless and unsteady, as you turned, urgency propelling you forward even as fear tightened around your chest.

You sprinted down the stairs and out into the freezing night, mind racing with everything you’d read and rehearsed. The signs of labor had seemed so straightforward in theory—contractions building gradually, giving everyone time to prepare.

But this was nothing like you’d imagined. It was sudden and overwhelming, every moment infused with urgency and the weight of what was to come.

The doctor—the same woman who had once treated your leg—lived just a few houses down. You sprinted through the silent streets of Jackson, the night air sharp and biting against your skin. Maria’s panicked cries echoed in your mind, propelling you forward, blocking out the cold and exhaustion.

Within twenty minutes, you returned, breathless, leading the doctor into Maria’s room. The doctor moved with calm efficiency, her gaze sharp as she took in the scene. “How are you doing, Maria?” she asked, her voice steady and grounded, a quiet force amid the chaos.

Maria gritted her teeth, clutching the bed as another contraction wracked her body, her face twisted in pain. “I think my contractions are getting stronger,” she managed between labored breaths, her fingers gripping the sheets until her knuckles whitened.

The doctor nodded, stepping closer. “Alright, let’s get you comfortable, and I’ll check your progress,” she said, her voice soft yet unwavering. She spoke with the practiced calm of someone who’d seen it all, grounding the tension in the room with her presence.

You took a step back, your heart pounding as you watched the scene unfold, an electric mixture of anxiety and awe buzzing in your veins. Maria was about to bring a new life into the world, and you were here to witness it, to support her through this momentous night.

•••

The hours bled together in a haze of low murmurs, Maria’s labored breaths, and the doctor’s steady, calming instructions as he guided her through each wave of pain.

You stayed close by Maria’s side, whispering words of encouragement, while Tommy held her hand tightly, both of them drawing strength from each other in those final, agonizing moments. The doctor’s usual brisk demeanor softened, her voice now warm and steady as she guided Maria through each push, her confidence a steady beacon in the room.

And then, with a final, guttural cry that seemed to echo from the depths of her soul, Maria summoned the last of her strength. The room fell silent as the doctor lifted a tiny, wriggling baby into the air, and in that instant, time seemed to stand still. A swell of warmth flooded your chest, catching in your throat as you took in the sight.

The baby was beautiful—a perfect blend of Maria and Tommy. She let out a small, tremulous cry, a sound so pure it filled the room with an unmistakable sense of life, breaking the stillness with its sweetness and bringing tears to your eyes.

“Congratulations!” the doctor announced, her voice thick with emotion. “It’s a girl!”

Maria sank back against the pillows, her face flushed with exhaustion but glowing with joy, tears slipping down her cheeks as she gazed down at her daughter for the first time. Tommy was at her side in an instant, his eyes filled with wonder and love as he looked at his family, a raw, unfiltered happiness radiating from him.

As you stepped back to give them space, a soft smile tugged at your lips. The room was filled with an overwhelming sense of love and hope, a quiet magic blooming amidst the chaos of the world outside. This was a moment you knew you’d carry with you always—a reminder that even in the darkest times, life had a way of breaking through.

You stayed with them, entranced by the tiny miracle before you. The baby’s delicate features, her tiny hands wrapped around Maria’s fingers, seemed almost too precious for this world.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, eyes fixed on the little girl nestled securely in her mother’s arms.

Maria looked up, her eyes gleaming with warmth and affection as she held her daughter close. “Do you want to hold her, Auntie?” she asked, her voice gentle, the title wrapping around your heart like an embrace.

Your breath caught, and you nodded, managing a quiet, “Yes, please.”

Maria carefully passed her daughter into your arms, and you marveled at the weight of her, so light yet so full of promise. The soft fabric of the blanket brushed against your skin as you cradled her close, an overwhelming wave of love sweeping over you.

“Hey there, little one,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper as you looked down into her wide, curious eyes. “Welcome to the world.”

Your heart ached in ways you couldn’t quite define—a bittersweet mixture of joy and longing as you cradled the baby close. She was warm, her tiny breaths soft and steady against your chest, and you wished with every fiber of your being that Joel could be here, standing beside you, sharing in this tender moment.

You pictured his face softening, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he nudged you gently. “Well, would you look at that—you’re Auntie now,” he’d murmur, his voice soft and warm. The thought sent a tender ache through your chest, filling you with a longing for a moment that felt so close, yet achingly out of reach.

You looked up at Maria and Tommy, their faces bathed in the soft glow of love and pride as they watched you holding their daughter. For them, this was a fresh start, a new beginning to bring light into the shadows that had long lingered.

As you glanced back down at the little girl in your arms, a gentle realization settled over you—despite the ache in your heart, despite the empty space Joel had left, you were grateful to be here, to be part of this beautiful chapter in their lives.

•••

The makeshift Christmas market in Jackson was alive with the vibrant energy of the season, the air filled with laughter and the gentle hum of holiday cheer. People moved between stalls, exchanging goods and warm greetings, their voices blending with the soft music drifting from a nearby record player.

The winter sun hung low, casting a golden hue over the scene, while the crisp air carried the scents of woodsmoke, pine, and the sweet spices of freshly baked treats.

Stalls were draped in strings of scavenged twinkling lights, each one a small beacon against the stark backdrop of winter, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the world outside had faded away, leaving only this small oasis of warmth and celebration.

That’s when you first saw him.

He was new to Jackson, having arrived only a few weeks before with a small group of survivors. His arrival had been the talk of the town, a blend of excitement and wariness threading through the community.

You’d caught snippets of conversation about them—stories of their long, treacherous journey, of how Tommy and some others had found them during a routine patrol and brought them to the safety of Jackson.

As you stood by a stall cluttered with recipe cards, your mind drifted, fingers skimming over options—cherry tart, pecan pie, a rich stew. You were lost in thought, weighing the choices for Christmas dinner with Maria, Tommy, and the new baby.

The gentle hum of the crowd faded into a quiet murmur as you sifted through the recipes, each one conjuring an image of their cozy home filled with laughter, the warmth of the fire casting a golden glow over familiar faces, the simple comfort of a shared meal.

Then, without warning, you felt a presence beside you.

“Tough decision,” a voice remarked, his voice warm and casual, drawing you out of your thoughts. Startled, you looked up, meeting his gaze.

He stood tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy confidence that immediately set him apart in the bustling crowd. Dark curly hair framed his face, tousled while his clothes—faded denim, a well-worn jumper, and scuffed boots—carried the unmistakable signs of long days on the road.

“Oh—sorry?” you replied, a little thrown by his sudden appearance.

“The recipe cards,” he explained, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “Seems like a big decision.”

You laughed softly, feeling a bit self-conscious as you kept your gaze fixed on the table. “Oh, right. Yeah, well… I’m a terrible cook, so I’m not sure these will do me much good,” you murmured, a small, nervous smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, a deep, easy sound that wrapped around you. “Believe me, you’re not alone. Once, I managed to go a whole week without dinner because I accidentally set my kitchen on fire trying to make spaghetti.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the mental image pulling a grin from you as you looked up at him. “A whole week? That’s impressive, in a way.”

He shrugged, his grin widening. “What can I say? Survival skills might be high, but cooking…not so much.” He shrugged, a glint of humor in his eyes. “I figure if it’s not completely inedible, it’s a win.”

There was something refreshingly genuine in his easygoing manner, a warmth that made you feel instantly at ease. For a moment, the chaos of the world outside faded, leaving only the twinkling lights, the soft hum of holiday cheer, and a stranger who felt oddly familiar.

A smile crept onto your face, the sheer absurdity of it all tugging laughter from somewhere deep within. It bubbled up, unexpected and warm, filling you with a lightness you hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages.

For the first time in months, the weight of your memories loosened its hold, if only for a moment, allowing you to breathe freely. You hadn’t laughed like this in so long—it was as if a piece of yourself had finally broken through the clouds.

“I’m Caleb,” he said, offering his hand with an easy smile that radiated genuine warmth.

You took his hand, feeling the steady strength in his grip as you introduced yourself. There was something in his gaze—an openness, a sincerity—that sent a quiet warmth through your chest.

He looked at you not with the guarded wariness so common in Jackson, but with the unmistakable ease of someone who was simply, honestly, glad to meet you.

For that brief moment, as your hands met, a quiet spark flickered between you—a connection so subtle it was almost unspoken, a warmth that lingered just beneath the surface, delicate yet undeniable.

But with that glimmer of warmth came a piercing pang of guilt—a hollow ache for Joel that twisted deep in your chest. Memories of him surfaced unbidden, vivid and relentless. The feeling of his hand on yours, rough and reassuring, the quiet strength in his touch—it all washed over you, an aching reminder of what was missing.

You shook your head slightly, as if somehow, with that small motion, you could dispel the thoughts, push them back into the shadows. But they lingered, stubborn and insistent, weaving themselves into every quiet corner of your mind.

“I should probably head out,” you said, your voice steady, though memories tugged at you, filling you with a sudden urge to escape. You forced a polite smile, masking the quiet turmoil churning beneath the surface. “It was nice meeting you, Caleb.”

The words felt hollow, yet you held them there.

“Same here,” he replied, his smile warm and sincere. There was something in his gaze, a friendliness that reached beyond mere courtesy.

You turned to leave, offering a quick wave as you walked away, Caleb’s smile lingering in your mind.

•••

Over the next few months, Caleb became an unexpected constant in your life, seamlessly weaving himself into the rhythm of your new reality. His presence was a quiet comfort—a steady, familiar face that always seemed to show up when you needed it most, as though he had an instinct for the moments when silence weighed a little too heavily.

He and Tommy had quickly struck up a friendship, their bond forming over early morning patrols and long days in the fields. They’d joke about the little things—who had the better aim, who could lift more, trading stories of life before and after Jackson.

Caleb had this easygoing charm that drew Tommy in, a quiet humor that paired perfectly with Tommy’s unguarded nature. Soon enough, they were inseparable, working together to repair fences or sharing a drink at day’s end, laughter echoing into the quiet streets.

For you, it was comforting, even endearing, to watch them fall into step with each other. You soon found Caleb everywhere—At the clinic, he’d be there often, volunteering to sort supplies or assist with whatever needed doing.

Sometimes you’d catch glimpses of him at the library during storytime, surrounded by children, his voice rising and falling with animated enthusiasm as he brought storybook characters to life. His laughter, bright and infectious, filled the quiet spaces, drawing smiles from even the sternest faces.

And at the stables, he’d be coaxing a skittish horse with gentle patience, exchanging quiet smiles with the ranch hands as he worked, his presence a calming influence on both people and animals alike. He was kind, always there with a helping hand or a lighthearted joke, his warmth settling into your life like a gentle balm.

As weeks turned to months, you found yourself looking forward to these moments. In his presence, you felt an unexpected ease, a sense of reprieve from the lingering sorrow tied to memories of Joel.

Soon, he became a regular presence at your table, joining you, Tommy, and Maria for dinners that filled the house with shared stories, the warmth of food, and laughter echoing through the walls.

One evening, you watched as Caleb gently cradled Tommy and Maria’s baby in his arms for the first time. His expression softened, wonder and tenderness in his eyes as he gazed down at her tiny face. “I’ve always wanted kids,” he admitted quietly, his voice filled with a sincerity that struck a chord within you. He held her with a tenderness that was unmistakable, every little sound she made bringing a soft smile to his lips.

Yet, even within the warmth of these moments, a bittersweet ache would surface—soft but unrelenting, a reminder of Joel that lingered in your heart. You’d imagine him with the baby, envisioning how he’d hold her with surprising gentleness, his rough hands steady and protective, softened by a past that had once made him a father. You could almost see him cradling her close, the hard edges of his face easing, his expression slipping into a rare tenderness, a quiet gentleness breaking through the weathered lines he so often wore.

The thought would catch you off guard, slipping into your mind like a familiar melody, stirring memories you’d tried to bury. No matter how much warmth surrounded you, a part of you still felt that quiet pull toward the one person who remained just out of reach.

•••

One evening, you found yourself beside Maria in the warm glow of the fire, its flickering light casting gentle shadows across the room. The crackling flames filled the quiet, and Maria cradled her baby, the soft coos and gurgles creating a soothing backdrop. You held a drink in your hand, but your gaze was fixed on the hypnotic dance of the flames, lost in thought.

Maria’s gentle voice broke through your thoughts. “You okay, sweetie?” she asked, her tone soft, though a hint of concern threaded through her words. You turned to her, pausing, the weight of everything settling a little heavier in that moment.

She asked you this question often, and every time, you’d give her the same small, unconvincing smile.

You’d lie, and she’d accept it, knowing but never pushing, letting you hold your pain close.

But today was different.

Today, you couldn’t bring yourself to smile or hide behind hollow reassurances. Today, the ache felt too raw, too close to the surface, and you found yourself unable to pretend.

“No,” you murmured, barely audible over the fire. “Maria, I miss him.”

Maria’s face softened, her eyes reflecting an understanding that only deepened the ache in your chest.

“I know you do,” she said quietly. She hesistared before continuing “But, honey, life’s gonna move on. You deserve happiness—even if it feels complicated right now.” Her words hung in the air, gentle but firm, a reminder that Caleb’s presence, his growing affection, hadn’t gone unnoticed by her.

Her words settled heavily within you, undeniable yet daunting. “But I don’t think I’m ready to let him go,” you admitted, voice tight with conflict. “I don’t know how to move forward without.. without feeling like I’m leaving him behind.”

Maria leaned in, her gaze steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to rush. But don’t let fear hold you back from living. Joel wouldn’t want that for you. You deserve to be happy—even if it feels impossible right now.”

Her words struck a chord, resonating with a truth you hadn’t let yourself fully face. But the thought of moving on, of letting go of the hope you clung to, tightened in your chest like a vice. “What if I take that step and… regret it?” you whispered, a tremor of uncertainty in your voice.

Maria’s hand drifted to her baby’s head, her fingers brushing over the soft hair as if grounding herself in the love and life she held. “Life’s too short to live by ‘what ifs,’” she said gently, her voice filled with conviction.

“Taking a step forward doesn’t mean forgetting him. It just means you’re choosing to live, even with the pain. You’re allowed to find happiness again.”

•••

The night they left

You had fallen fast asleep beside him, blissfully unaware of Joel's watchful gaze. As he lay there, his mind was tangled with thoughts of the evening—the way you’d looked up at the stars, your face softly illuminated, a quiet glow in your eyes as you’d whispered promises meant just for him.

He’d finally lowered his guard, letting slip the long-buried apology along with a hint of the feelings he’d guarded so fiercely. In return, you had placed your hand in his, a quiet promise that you wouldn’t leave. The warmth of your touch anchored him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed, filling the empty spaces he’d carried within him for years.

In that moment, lying beside you, Joel felt something he hadn’t in a long time—relief. The years of guilt, the weight of holding his feelings in check, all eased in the comfort of your presence. For the first time, he allowed himself to feel at peace, letting go, if only for a night, of the burdens he’d carried alone for so long.

Slowly, he reached over, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingertips lingering as he gently traced circles at your temple, as if etching this moment into his memory. He wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how your quiet promise had started to ease the weight in his chest. He ached to close the distance, to press his lips softly against yours—but he held back, waiting for the right moment, fighting the pull that had never felt stronger than tonight.

And he let himself smile, knowing you wanted it too. You stirred something deep within him, a feeling nestled low in his stomach, reminding him just how far out of his depth he was.

But then he froze, hearing movement downstairs. A sharp knock at the door cut through the silence, urgent and relentless.

He squinted at the dim-lit clock, barely making out the time—4 a.m.

Jesus Christ, had he really been awake this long? And who the hell would be knocking at this hour?

With a sigh, he slipped out of bed, glancing back at you once more, his heart twisting at the thought of leaving you, even for a moment. He moved quietly, careful not to wake you, and made his way downstairs, each knock echoing louder as he approached.

As he opened the door, he found Ellie standing there, pale and shaken, her backpack slung over her shoulder, eyes wide with a fear he’d rarely seen in her.

“Ellie?” he whispered, dread pooling in his stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“They know,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “They know about me, Joel. They know I could be the cure. And they’re coming. They know I’m here in Jackson.”

Joel’s blood turned to ice. He glanced back at the staircase he’d descended just minutes ago, the image of you peacefully asleep etched sharply in his mind. Then he looked at Ellie, his mind racing.

Joel’s jaw tightened, memories of Sarah flashing painfully through his mind, the ache of that loss still raw, still haunting, even after all these years. Protecting Ellie felt was a second chance—something he couldn’t afford to lose.

He looked back toward the stairs, a silent vow etched in his mind—he’d return to you and explain everything once Ellie was safe, no matter what it took.

“Then we leave—now.”

•••

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[homicidal-lingonberry]

a thought about kabru and mithrun and their time in the dungeon. (I love kabumisu but this is more about their canon relationship)

I have seen several people say that they dont think that kabru really cared about or liked mithrun. that he was just doing things cause he had to, etc. but I feel like this ignores something pretty cool about kabru. Kabru always has an inner monologue going on, one that we get to see.

several times when we see kabru doing nice things we can see that his inner monologue doesnt actually match. we see him kindly doing things that actively distress him several times. we as an audience are made very aware when kabru is doing something he doesnt really like.

so what kind of an inner monologue does kabru have when he performs caring tasks for mithrun? does he think about the advantages of having mithrun or the canaries on his side? does he think bitterly of mithrun? does he think about how much he hates this? the worst he thinks is "to think I'd get roped into this for the sake of that lot." and "this isnt seeing to his needs, this is nursing!" pretty early on in their journey together. this is while he is still digesting the full picture of mithruns condition and all the things hes going to need to do, the full weight of the situation now apparent.

after this, all we see is compassion. him thinking he would like to make mithrun something nice to eat, even if it wouldnt matter to him. him empathizing and reflecting on how not having desires would be really rough. him coming to understand where some of mithruns quirks, like his sense of direction, come from.

by the end, he has trusted mithrun enough to tell him about laios, and mithrun has given him all the information he has been searching for for YEARS.

and this is just the dungeon. kabru continues to involve himself with mithrun when its not his problem anymore. when really, he should be doing anything but. and after everything is done, if he truly did not care about mithrun, he has NO reason to do anything he does in chapter 94.

they are FRIENDS okay??? Kabru cares about him. it isnt just obligation. ty.

as far as mithrun goes, he gives kabru information, he asks him what he wants to do with that little smile (doesnt wait for his squad), slaps him out of his panic attack, and then kabru is the person he eventually confides his true desire to.

theyre FRIENDS and Im tired of people acting like they dont even like each other just bc they dont like the ship. you dont have to ship it, but if you think these 2 didnt drastically change each others lives in a positive way and that they dont care about each other...you maybe need to read again.

and also I think a lot of these takes veer on dehumanizing mithrun. like how could kabru even like him or see him as a friend when hes like that. like do yall forget mithrun was busy keeping kabrus ass from getting killed. or the way he perceptively sees straight through kabrus bs every single time until kabru finally tells the truth? I know kabrus confession to laios is a lot more emotionally intense, but laios isnt the only character that forces kabru to be honest.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter three:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: smut (semi-public, dirty talk, brief thigh riding, lingerie kink, degradation and praise at the same time? just filthy tbh)

➴ word count: 1.5k

➴ author’s note: …i have nothing to say for myself.

liked by spotify, billboard, morgan.grace and 1,028,923 others

sophiamontenegro rip to my feelings. 11/11.

View all 33,629 comments

user1 RIGHT ON MY BDAY TOO LETSS GOOO

billboard 🎤❤️‍🔥

morgan.grace i love u i love u i love u

jackhughes ❤️

user2 YESSSS YESSSS LORD YESSS

user6 user12 this is probably a good time to tell you that i wanna break up. bye

sophiamontenegro user6 user12 nah that’s wild…

user4 sing ho!

user86 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT JACK BEING ALL OVER SOPHIA’S INSTAGRAM LIKE THAT MAN IS LIKING AND COMMENTING ON EVERY POST WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOUR

user8 user86 girl CHILL that little guy is a whore he’ll do anything for a girl including being active on social media

— ♡

WITH all of the things you had to do before releasing your album, it had been almost two weeks since the last time you saw Jack.

Which, if you were to be one hundred percent honest, you were grateful for. Trying to figure out what you were feeling whenever you were around him was already hard enough to do on its own, now doing it with Jack around? Even worse.

You still texted everyday, although you didn’t know what that meant in your… fuck-buddies-situationship. With your previous arrangements, you only texted if one of you wanted to have sex. Besides that? Never.

But, in your ultimate defense, Jack was the one to start it. With simple texts like “hey, how are you?”, he built some type of text schedule between the two of you, and you wouldn’t be the one to break it.

To your extreme horror, you actually missed him: his masculine, clean scent, his warm hands around you, his jokes, his laugh, his kisses and his dick.

You often wondered if he was having sex with someone else during the time you were apart and that thought made you ache. You knew it wasn’t any of your business, and you knew he was technically allowed to do that— and so were you— but it still hurt nonetheless.

“Can we get some warm lighting on top of her, please?” The photographer’s voice brought you back to the present, where you were shooting some pictures for your collaboration with Skims. You never cared much about the Kardashians but damn if those lingerie didn’t look good on you.

Someone moved the lamp around so that the warm lighting was now hitting your face, and you started posing again. It was your last outfit, and you were tired. It was half past nine and after shooting for six hours straight, you just wanted to go home and sleep. But, you still had at least fifteen more minutes.

“That’s great, Soph, you look awesome.” The man complimented you, earning a smile. At least the people there were nice and you felt comfortable enough wearing lingerie around them. “One more for me, please.”

— ♡

liked by kyliejenner, skims, trevorzegras and 3,982,022 others

sophiamontenegro angel in blue, devil in yellow. skims

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trevorzegras 🥲🥲

arianagrande jesus !!!!! ♡ 🪄

user1 how are u real girl wth

user7 GOR GE OUS

jackhughes i like blue

user2 jackhughes soldier get up…

morgan.grace Im pregnant

user3 i wanna be u when i grow up

user8 if i buy the set will u come with it

— ♡

ENTERING your changing room, you felt exhausted. Everyone left to have dinner and you were waiting for Grace to arrive, so she could pick you up. You were still wearing the two piece set, a blue babydoll and panties; your hair was still perfectly styled and your makeup flawless.

You heard a knock on the door, and you scrunch your nose, wondering why Grace would knock. She was against all types of knocking.

Opening the door, nothing could’ve prepared you for Jack standing there, looking gorgeous as always; gray sweatpants, a loose hoodie and blue eyes devouring you.

“Jack? What are you doing here?” You asked, confused.

“Grace told me you’d be here, shooting something,” he said, eyeing your entire body, taking his time. “Geez, I wish she would’ve told me you were shooting for Playboy.”

“It’s not for Playboy, idiot. It’s for Skims.” You rolled your eyes, opening your door and letting him in.

He leaned against the closed door, smirking. “I don’t know who Skims is, but I wanna tell them thank you.”

You giggled, cheeks red.

“Do a little twirl for me, baby,” he asked, voice soft yet demanding. You did, slowly twirling around, showing him your set. “So fucking pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, Sophia.” He stepped closer, putting his hand on your hips like always. You breathed in, not wanting to confess how much you had missed it. “And you’re all dolled up too, huh?” He briefly kissed you, just a tiny peck, really, which did wonders to you anyway. “I want to fuck you with those panties on. Make you ride me with that baby doll.”

“Jack,” you moaned, feeling your pussy starting to get wet against the fancy fabric of your panties. “We can’t do it here. What if there are people outside?”

He laughed, holding you closer, hands running up and down your thighs and ass, ignoring your wet spot on purpose. “What? Like you care about people knowing how much of a slut you are?” He scoffed. “Please, Soph. We’ve been here before,”

Your mind brought you back to that night at Nico’s place, or that one time you both fucked inside his car, or the day you sucked him off in the Devils’ locker room. Semi-public sex wasn’t exactly a problem to you, but putting on a fight always felt good.

“We have to be quick,” you whispered, giving in. As you always did.

“With you riding me while wearing this? I’m sure we’ll be.” He stated, and you laughed, as you both kissed again, bruising, hard and passionately.

His tongue caressed yours while his hands did the same with your body, fingers finding your clit over the panties and rubbing it once, twice, before moving to your hole, inserting his finger over the panties.

He lifted you with ease, leaving you with no choice but to wrap your legs around his hips, hoping that you wouldn’t leave a wet spot on his hoodie. He sat on the couch that occupied half of the room, with you on his lap, kissing you still. Your head was dizzy, mind going everywhere at once, and you couldn’t help but grind on his cock, indeed leaving a wet spot on his pants.

He pulled his pants down, and you eyed his perfect, hard cock: big, thick and the mushroom head red, spurting pre-cum. All for you.

“Inside me, please,” you mumbled, rubbing your clit on his thighs.

He laughed before grabbing a condom from his pocket. “That’s new. I didn’t know sluts knew how to say please. I guess you are desperate.”

And you were. It’s been two weeks since the last time he was inside you and you were climbing up the walls.

“Jack, please,” your voice sounded way too needy, even for you, but you didn’t care. If begging would get you his dick, then so be it.

“With you asking so prettily, who am I to say no?” He answered before pulling your panties to the side and lifting you up just enough to sit you on his— now— protected cock. You both moaned, you clenching your hole around him, clit throbbing underneath the lace. “Fuck, Soph. You’re milking my cock, baby.”

“God,” you moaned, slowly starting to ride his cock. You knew you both needed to be fast, so you were going to make it quick.

Sliding up and down on his dick, you rode him with ease, searching for your own release, while he pushed his hips forward, slamming into you with precision, hitting all of your right spots.

You two were too familiar with each other’s body, you knew each other so well and the realization made your head hurt and your clit throb.

Putting your hands on his shoulders to support your body, you were moving fast, fucking yourself open on his cock, while his right hand stroked your clit hard and fast, making you squirm and whine.

“Look at you, such a pretty thing, letting me wreck this tight pussy,” Jack whispered in your ear, still fucking you nine days into Sunday. “You’re mine, aren’t you, baby? All mine to fuck and care.”

“Mhpmm, yes, fuck, baby, yours,” you moaned a little too loud, forgetting about the fact that someone could be outside, hearing you and Jack fucking like two animals.

All that mattered now was coming on Jack’s cock and making him come too— which didn’t take long, since you both arrived at the same time a few minutes after that.

Coming down from the high, you both tried to make your breathing steady again, you resting your forehead on Jack’s shoulder, not wanting to leave, not now, not ever, his cock sitting still inside of you, making you feel full and warm and taken care of.

“All great in there, sweetheart?” You heard him whispering in your ear, while caressing your back with his left hand.

“Mhm.”

He chuckled. “Was I too rough?”

Even though it was clear you loved when he acted rough with you, he still asked every now and then. You thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Raising your body slightly, you stared at him, blue eyes reflecting yours, making you smile, tiredly.

“Nothing that I couldn’t handle.” You shrugged, genuinely happy. Exhausted? Yes. Happy? Also yes. “Jack?” You whispered, biting your bottom lip.

“Yeah, baby?” He whispered back, pressing his thumbs against your lip so you’d stop hurting it.

“I like you,”

You weren’t expecting him to say anything back, honestly. Coming to terms with the fact that you liked him was still something you were working on, but it would hurt less in the end if he pushed you away now, before getting your hopes too high.

Smiling right back at you, he kissed your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and then your lips, gently.

“I like you too, baby.”

[stxrvel]

intrusive (4)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. THIS IS EDITED!! there are new scenes!! 16/9. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! sadness, lots of mixed feelings, self-hatred, flashbacks, flashbacks. a/n. hi guysssssssssss. its been a while, i know and im so sorry. i hope this chapter doesn't feel too rushed. truth be told, between life issues and that i've been having trouble with inspiration for scenes it took me a while to build this, but surprisingly i'm pleased with the result. now, where do you think we're going and what will we do from here on out?????? surprises come, surprises go. thank you all for your continued support!! i really appreciate the feedback from all of you and reading your comments makes my days. for those who are still here, thank you. see you next time!

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There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments that kept your hair standing on end every so often or every time you remembered. They were like gaps, things you didn't know how they had gotten there, how they had happened, or how someone else knew. And you were accumulating them, suspicious, somewhat delusional and paranoid if you asked anyone, but they were held in that space in the back of your head waiting for the right moment to come out.

Between moments of lucidity and memories of the past, there were many things you had superficially let slip by.

Yuna was in front of you, her brow furrowed in concentration and her eyes almost square from the amount of time she had already spent in front of the computer. You had been at it all day, so the moment your friend appeared like it was her own living room and everyone acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary, you just plopped down on the couch with a calm expression, waiting for the perfect moment to let certain things out, to ask certain questions.

There were moments of enlightenment, there were moments of brilliant discoveries. And that day you had discovered something you had forgotten because of the brevity of its recognition, but in retrospect it was something worth knowing, even if there were still too many things, more important things, of which you were ignorant. At that moment, all gathered in the living room of your parents' house, the most important thing was what was on your mind.

“Yuna.”

Your friend barely shook her head in acknowledgement of her name. Your parents were arranging the table in the middle of the couches to settle lunch, surely a big feast like every other day for the past few days and the only reason Seojun took virtual classes that day, and your brother was ogling the dishes with his mouth ajar. Eugh.

But none of them were paying too much attention. Food, social media, ordering, direct messaging, arranging the geometrically correct dishes… everyone had their heads in their own world, and that's why you could hear the moment your father's hair touched the ground when you asked:

“You were the one who set up my book booth at the last convention?”

Four pairs of eyes bore into you.

“What?”

You looked at her expectantly, not letting the mischief interfere with your plans.

“No…! I didn't-I mean, what are you talking about?”

Yuna let out a nervous laugh, just after correcting herself when she got a blunt look from your mother. Your father stood stiffly behind his wife, the frying pan in his hands wobbling so clearly that a few drops of the soup dripped onto the wood of the floor. Your mother leaned over, leaving the plate she was carrying on the table, sending Seojun a look that caused him to swallow his saliva sonorously.

The scene was so comical that you really had a hard time not bursting out laughing.

“It's just that when I talked to Sol this morning she commented something…”

You let the words hover in the air, straining them each time it came to one of them. Yuna straightened up, completely forgetting about the computer for a second, peeling her back off the couch where she was leaning on the floor. Your father snorted in surprise so hard that he was attacked by a cough and your mother had to take the frying pan away from him before he watered down all the soup from all the shaking. Seojun hid behind your mother's legs and you just plopped down on the couch, stretching your legs over the armrest, satisfied with their reactions.

“And what did she say to you, honey?”

Your mother was the most composed, finishing arranging the dishes around the pan while your father had run out to the living room for a glass of water. Among the foursome, your mother was the only one who truly knew what dissimulation meant. You had no doubt that her sisterhood with the others in the room would end once you told them you already knew everything.

“She told me she was afraid I hadn't been able to see what you had done for me,” you frowned looking up at the ceiling, looking genuinely confused. “And it was weird, because we were talking about the last convention.”

Yuna let out a laugh, incredulous.

“And why would you be talking about that with Sol?”

Putting the antics aside, you stood up on your forearms and glared at her.

“Why did you do that?”

“What did I do?”

“Sol told me it was your idea.”

“That's not true!”

“Ah…” you held a hand to your forehead, as if you had just remembered something important. Your gaze swept around the room and Seojun cringed when your eyes landed on him. “True. She said it had been your idea.”

Before Yuna could send a warning glance at your brother, Seojun raised his hand and pointed at your friend, exclaiming:

“It was her idea! It was all Yuna's idea! Tell her mom!”

The two aforementioned closed their eyes, taking a deep breath and bringing their fingers to the bridge of their noses. Their expressions of ennui were unmatched and promptly Seojun was cringing for a completely different reason.

“You're such a jerk,” Yuna mumbled, almost barking in the direction of the poor man seeking to escape his mother's lethal gaze. Instantly, your friend turned her gaze in your direction, meeting that amused look that curled her annoyance just for a millisecond. “I thought you'd be more upset.”

“I was,” you lifted a shoulder, leaning back against the back of the couch as you listened to the string of scoldings your mom was in between yelling and whispering to your brother. “But it's impossible not to see reason when you're talking to someone like Sol.

Yuna also nodded in consideration. It was something that, not just the two of you, but all of Sol's workers agreed with. Sol had a warmth about her, a homely feel to her that made you automatically trust her and take it for granted that, if she told you everything would work out, it was because it would; whether it was by chance of the universe or because she would see to it that it did.

“Then it was a good thing you heard it from her mouth and not your inept brother's,” Yuna sent her another withering glare and you couldn't help the smile that twitched your corners as you watched your mother move the bowl of tteokbokki away from her grasp. It was so funny to see that he didn't always get the baby of the house treatment for a change.

“Were you planning on taking that to your grave?”

Yuna turned, arching her eyebrows. With her lips set in a thin line, you knew she was thinking about choosing the right words to answer you, even though that thing they'd done had led directly to the fact that, at that moment, you'd been able to afford the luxury of asking for vacation for the first time and focusing on what you truly loved to do. Even if they had worked behind your back, the result had not been so fatal.

If you took a few unwanted people out of the equation, that is.

Your friend finally softened her gaze.

“No, I knew you'd find out at some point. From whoever's mouth. A secret can only be kept from so many people.” Yuna rolled her eyes, moving to listen to your father complain from the kitchen. “But I didn't think Sol would tell you so openly. Was it on purpose?”

“Yes. I think she was trying to convince me or make up for something. I'm not sure which.”

Yuna raised her eyebrows, cocking her head in tension for barely a second. If not for the years you'd known her, you probably would've interpreted her short-lived reaction as genuine curiosity, the desire for a tidbit of gossip. But your friend's tension was palpable and it was something that left you wondering a bit, especially when she didn't speak until your father returned to the kitchen.

“Honey, I think I'm going to get a sore throat.”

There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments. There were too many things you were still ignorant of and had no idea about; things far beyond what was happening in the present.

There were things you still didn't understand, like why and how Jeon Jungkook, the country's most famous idol and probably one of the celebrities most likely to have easiest facial recognition on the street, had so stealthily stumbled upon your whereabouts or why he had acted as if seeing you again was a reunion with his lost puppy from years ago.

“Are you still upset, noona?”

Seojun watched you warily, your sidelong glance leading him to cower once more behind your father. With lunch settled and the tension gone (barely), you all had been able to enjoy an enjoyable moment. After all, the dense atmosphere that still lingered was only due to the fact that teasing Seojun was fun and more satisfying when you had no reason to do so.

It all came from a great consideration that your family, and even Sol, had for you, trying to support you however they could, even if you didn't even seek their help. As much as you wanted to (and didn't really want to) there wasn't much reason to get angry. Less so when the outcome, likewise, had been favorable.

“We should focus on what's important,” Yuna dipped her spoon into the almost non-existent conversation, finishing her meal and leaving the plate practically glistening, to which your mother was able to sketch a satisfied smile. “We have a meeting this afternoon.”

“Ah. Yes,” Seojun nodded, remembering his place as the second-in-command of the business, because you had actually been relieved of any position you might have held in your own business. “As the person in charge of the treasury of this company, I must admit that the decision made is the most appropriate and in our best interests.”

Yuna narrowed her eyes, seeming it was almost impossible for her to ignore your brother's annoying presence.

“What have you contributed to this business to call yourself the person in charge of the treasury?”

“I've done a lot for this project! Besides, you are focused on advertising. You should be in charge of the public relations department.”

“And I can't handle both?!”

“I set up all the lines of communication with the delivery people and organized the accounts with Dad!” Seojun pulled Dad's shirt collar, pulling him close to his face with a frown. Your dad only let him be, as he savored a wing. “You took charge of net with mom. We can't reverse charges now. Experience and reality speak for themselves.”

Yuna clicked her tongue, irritated.

“Whatever,” shaking her head, she flipped the computer on the table so Seojun and your parents could get a good look at the proposal you had accepted, after arduous study over the weekend as a family. “After a long board meeting, which stretched over the entire weekend, this was the accepted offer.”

You could almost see the zeros running in your brother's eyes, with a budding smile making its way across his face. Your parents looked pleased, proud. And Yuna kept that determined expression; she was really taking all this seriously and you didn't know yet how you could thank her for it.

“Ah…” your mother sighed, holding a hand to her chest. “It's finally happening.”

When she sent you that look with the sparkling eyes you couldn't help but shrink back on your spot on the floor.

“Mom, I think it's best we avoid getting too excited until we've signed.”

Your mother nodded, closing her eyes and breathing to keep her composure.

“Accepted the offer, we were summoned to their facility, which is where we will be heading after resting from this delicious lunch.” Yuna smiled radiantly in your mother's direction. Sometimes you wondered if she wasn't missed at home. But… no, she was much better off here.

“My children have to rest very well to make the best decisions at that meeting,” your mother nodded, stroking Yuna's hair superficially and getting up to pick up the dishes. Seojun got up to help her, but your father stopped him, keeping the warm smile on his face. Of all of them, your father was the most expressive, but you knew that at that moment he was holding back only because at the slightest he would burst into tears. And yes, with a simple glance in your direction, his eyes watered and he had to run away hugging the dishes against his chest.

Seojun sighed dramatically.

“I wish they had been this excited when I entered college.”

Yuna moved across the table, smacking him on the forehead that left him with an instant redness.

“What are you talking about, idiot? You celebrated all weekend.”

Seojun didn't respond, touching his forehead with a grimace. Yuna snorted, not believing your brother's audacity, and turned her focus back to the contents of the proposal you had received from Noble Publishing Apgujeong. You still remembered the screams that had echoed throughout the house when they found the letter from that publishing house in the mail, the most prestigious and probably the highest one could aspire to in the world of writing and for the purposes of editing and publishing. There wasn't a book published under that publishing house that wasn't a success, and that they had sought you out themselves was a great privilege.

“Speaking of celebrations,” Seojun took the floor again, when your parents had finished taking the dishes away and agreed that you would wash them all together before youo left for the publishing house, because nothing was good enough, ”I don't think we've had a moment to at least pop a champagne and celebrate this.”

Your parents remained thoughtful, but you were already shaking your head when Yuna spoke:

“It's true,” her frown said she couldn't believe they hadn't done it yet, but between so many chores, to-dos and new things you were discovering on this new path, you couldn't just take the luxury of doing nothing for a few hours. There was a lot to work on. “We should do it after the meeting. With the contract at home, it will be much better!”

Your father and Seojun cheered in agreement and your mother gave a few claps.

“You're working tomorrow, Yuna.”

“So what?” your friend frowned at you. “Do you think it'll be the first time I've gone to work with a hangover?”

Your mom's throat clearing startled her, and she quickly melted like pudding with a sheepish grin.

“But this time it will be for a good cause…and it won't happen again.”

Your mom nodded, not very convinced.

“Incidentally,” Yuna regained her posture, sending a glare at Seojun, ”we could have y/n finally watch the video reactions of her books.”

“You haven't seen them?” Seojun exclaimed and suddenly the four pairs of eyes felt very threatening.

“… no…”

“Mom?? Did you hear that?!”

“Sweetheart!” your father exclaimed, looking at you as if he had heard that you did something worthy of banishment. “Why haven't you seen the videos, don't you know the good things they say about you?”

“The compliments,” your mother nodded. “Almost the entire internet loves your books.”

“That's an exaggeration, mom…”

“How did you even avoid all that hype?” Seojun asked, leaning over the table. “Even Dad's TikTok wasn't spared, and he only watches National Geographic videos.”

“…I muffled a few words.”

A roar of incredulous refusals followed your words and promptly everyone was moving to corner you against the couch so you had no escape.

“There is no time to waste.” Seojun nodded in Yuna's direction and it offended you too much that the only times they agreed was to do something against you.

“Mrs. l/n, I think dessert will be popcorn,” Yuna moved her computer closer to the center of the table as Seojun settled in behind you, each of your parents on your sides as your friend opened the TikTok web app.

“Hey, no… no. I'm not ready to watch this. I'm not-”

“Nonsense, noona. Even better, this will give you a big confidence boost for the meeting this afternoon.”

You didn't believe Seojun at all. Your nerves were on edge as Yuna moved to sit next to your brother and the first words of the first video echoed in the living room:

“My honest opinion of the A Million Swords trilogy…”

-

“Do you think I might publish any of these one day?”

Your fingers drummed on the keyboard of the desktop computer, watching the letters spinning a story that no one yet knew. No one, except for you and Taehyung at that moment. His gaze was confused as his dark eyes hid behind the dark, unruly, damp locks of his hair. For a pool day, you couldn't have had a better time than writing parts of your still unfinished story, the one you used to run away to when you had a whole reality to mold in front of you. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention back then; attention to details, to gestures, to distances, to forced smiles; maybe if you had paid that kind of attention you would have been able to foresee everything that would happen later… maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much.

But at that moment, at 14, you could only see with stars in your eyes the enormous possibility that you thought writing would open up for you; the world you were about to discover, much farther away than you thought.

That weekend the pool party was at your house. Jimin had brought a gigantic inflatable pool withJungkook and they all kept splashing water in each other's eyes in the backyard. In your prolonged absence, surely, Taehyung had ventured inside the house to the only place he would know you would be if it wasn't next to them.

“Do I think? I'm absolutely sure.”

Taehyung shook the droplets slipping from the ends of his hair all over your face.

“Tae!”

“Why are you doubting it?”

“I never said I was doubting it.”

Your friend took one of the armchairs that each of the boys had recast in your room, which no matter how much you pulled them out always ended up there again, to sit next to you and watch the unfinished paragraphs on the computer screen. There were four armchairs already gathering dust in the corner of the room that you still hadn't had the heart to take them out.

“Look at that,” the brown-haired man moved his face closer to the screen, splashing more water on you, with a mischievous grin. “It was desire that stirred me, far beyond the reach of reason or any cognitive faculty. In the depths of my being, I knew with unshakable certainty that I was right. Their gaze scrutinized my every expression, searching for ways to break me, while their fingers, far from innocent, accused me relentlessly. Yet, even as the weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, there was no realm, no dimension in this vast, boundless universe where I had not chosen him above all else. Not even as the streets ignited, the houses crumbled to ashes, and the roar of thunder drowned out the cries for mercy…who writes like that?”

“y/n!”

Your other two friends appeared, reveling in the unapproved reading of the first draft of your first novel, and you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

You moved quickly to press the off button and your friends barely let out a short laugh.

“Don't ever do that again.”

“Then don't ever doubt you again.”

“I wasn't doubting! It was just a question…”

“She just wants you to be honest, Tae.” Jimin entered the room, moving right behind his friend and flashing a smile that made your hair stand on end.

“Honest...?”

“Shut up, Jimin.”

The aforementioned barely let out a laugh, under the scrutinizing and confused expressions of his other two friends.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook spoke, trying to gain ground in that unfamiliar room, clasping his hands in front of him in nervousness. He didn't even understand why he was nervous, he just knew he didn't like the obfuscated expression on your face.

“Nothing, Junkookie, Jimin's just an idiot who only knows how to spout rubbish.”

“Rubbish? Where do you even get those words from?”

“I learned it yesterday in literature class!”

“Uh-huh…”

“Stop it, Jimin!”

-

He wasn't a person to be caught off guard. His cautious attitude was something he had developed over time; with the experience of going through and surviving difficult situations; with the toughness of making strong decisions and constantly bearing the burden of being at fault for their consequences.

So no, Min Yoongi took it upon himself to plan things around him so meticulously that every aspect of his life had a place and a time; an hour and a second.

A planning so perfect that at that moment it was slipping through his hands like sand. His friend… no, Dohyun could do nothing but rest his hands against his desk sending him an obfuscated look, trying to look almost as disgruntled as Yoongi was at what he had learned would happen in that office.

“Of all the things I thought you could tell me…” Choi Dohyun shook his head, and on his face Yoongi could tell there were no words that could qualify his surprise. But he was surprised too, to be honest. He didn't know how he had summoned the fortitude to move so quickly from across town, from his study, to arrive at Dohyun's office and blurt that out to his face as if it were any Tuesday afternoon, as if he were simply inviting him to dinner at his house. “I've never underestimated you, Yoongi-ah, but this…”

“Who contacted you?”

“Who contacted me?” Dohyun let out a laugh, which felt a little heavy to Yoongi as he shifted his weight on his feet. “What makes you think I can't recognize a good deal from a distance when I see one? They call me the Shark for a reason, don't you think? I smell business like they smell blood in the sea.”

Yoongi clasped his hands at his sides, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Dohyun, who looked up and barely ran his tongue over his teeth before plopping back down on his ergonomic chair.

“The decision is already made,” was all he said to him, generating a flutter of emotions inside Yoongi.

“Who contacted you?” Yoongi insisted, feeling time slipping through his fingers. “How did you find out about… this?”

Dohyun let out a laugh, bordering on sarcasm and disbelief. Yoongi would've taken more time to think about it there, to ponder what he was doing, what his impulses were pushing him to do. But within the framework of his decisions and conflicting feelings, Yoongi had taken a path that he could no longer undo and the least he could do was avoid was to generate collateral damage to someone. Just for the chance to try, even though the probability of having the universe in his favor was microscopic, he decided not to give in to reason.

Maybe he would still be the villain in someone else's story, but in his conscience… maybe… maybe he was right and was looking for no way to excuse himself; to excuse things he could no longer change; to excuse behaviors he could no longer erase and decisions he could no longer undo.

Perhaps, too, it was the price he had to pay for what he had done. For what he had said; for what he had not said; for what he had done and what he had not done; for his action and his omission; for his perpetration and complicity. If Yoongi had known that time in his twenties that such a decision would have taken things so far, so close to the impossibility of healing, he surely would not have made it .

But to regret now, what good would it do him? To mutter apologies now, what good would it do him? To dig through the fibers of an unbridled heart, what good would it do him?

“Yoongi. I am the head of the largest publishing house in this country. If you thought I was going to see fluttering around the internet this opportunity in a million and as an entrepreneur and investor I wasn't going to take it, who are you taking me for?”

He should've dragged Namjoon away when he saw him in the parking lot, because business was his forte and not Yoongi's. Yoongi might as well cringe at Dohyun's words because how was he going to refute them. He had come with fortitude, yes. He had come with resolve and determination, yes; believing that this decision was the right thing to do, the least he could do right. And yet, at that crucial moment, with everything against him and the swords at his neck, Yoongi had his arms crossed again.

Maybe he should've dragged Namjoon along, but… how would he know if he was on his side?

“But don't worry. I'll try to keep you apart. You know I always separate personal matters from my work.”

Dohyun was a professional liar. If telling lies were a profession, Dohyun would quadruple the fortune he now boasts as the owner of the country's largest publishing house. Yoongi hated the way he covered up his poisonous words with honey, as if he couldn't see through the thin texture of the liquid how everything was corroding around him. And Dohyun was not his friend, if he wasn't sure before, he was now.

It's business, Namjoon would say, as rational and objective as ever; a businessman can't have someone around who attacks his vision, his business, that's an enemy.

Yoongi right now was a blob of green soup on Dohyun's pole, about to walk to an important meeting where he would close a million-dollar deal. His insignificance bordered on indescribability, but his diminutive presence was big enough to be considered a splinter in the foot.

The phone rang, breaking the tension in the atmosphere, and instead of answering it, Dohyun sent a glance toward the oak doors and then to Yoongi's limp body. Clasping his hands once again, it shook him inside to think that once again he allowed himself to be trampled. Once again, he was going to be the misfortune in someone's life.

“They're already here,” Dohyun almost muttered, an amused expression on his face. “You can leave now or you can stay and watch.”

Yoongi knew he'd be happy to have him there, watching him bite his tongue, trying to swallow his embarrassment. And wouldn't it be simpler to just leave, to brush against the fate he once let slip away as if it were something so trivial that it didn't tear a piece of his soul to even think about it; to brush against an opportunity he missed, selfish and presumptuous, as if he were the only one whose heart was beating with pain that day.

“I've never asked you for anything…”

“And neither have I,” Dohyun interrupted him, raising his gaze serenely, lifting his chin to acerbic dominance. “And all I'm asking you now is to stay out of my business.”

And Yoongi would've had to agree with Namjoon, because business and money definitely change a person. No one can rise to a high position, of Choi Dohyun's level, without having scored a big armory and a few degrees of tough personality willing to kill to get what they want.

“I received you out of courtesy. To Jin. But I won't tolerate another second of this.”

Dohyun mumbled, and the moment he brought the phone to his ear, Yoongi knew he had lost. Again.

“Hyung…” Yoongi closed his eyes, helplessness winning out over reason, the word sour in his mouth.

“No. I'm sorry, but no. It will happen. Just make your decision, I don't want my guests to wait too long.”

He didn't know if the grinding of his teeth was as loud as he heard it in his head. He didn't know if his behavior was over the top or understandable. He didn't know if he had a right to those emotions or if he had lost it more than ten years ago. Well, ten years in her head. He didn't know if he deserved that moment; to share that space and time and catch off guard someone who could become as cautious as he was now; because if Yoongi learned from anyone to be the way he was today, it was because of her.

He didn't know, in retrospect, if he ever made a good decision in his life.

-

i reeaally want to know your thoughts on this one!! re-edited!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592@yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @butnotmontana @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @chaotickyrith @dreamerwasfound @darlingz99

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 26] || [Chapter 27]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 500~ (in the video + picture) cw: accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, good natured teasing Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This chapter is **different**. You can read it OR watch it live! So sorry btw that the video is not embedded 😭😭🙏 a/n #2: Also this chapter is 100% inspired by this fanart by @ramvur but with Simon, instead of Price.

Chapter pre-27: Away (UPDATED!)

If you'd rather watch their text convo: CLICK HERE

It's 6 A.M. when your phone start buzzing repeatedly on the night stand next to you.

You paw at it languidly, blinking away the sleep as you attempt to unlock the phone and rub the sleep out of your eyes.

johnny: baby guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 johnny: baby johnny: babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy johnny: if ye dont answer my texts 🙄 you: jesus christ johnny its 6am what are you doing up??? 😑 johnny: good morning love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! johnny: weve got training today 😙 johnny: guess what happened you: what simon: Good morning sweeheart. johnny: WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING ANSWERING? you: good morning si 🫶 you: wait what do u mean u were calling for me no? johnny: I MEANT SIMON HES IN THE INFIRMARY HES NOT MEANT TO BE ANSWERING johnny: HOW DO YE EVEN HAVE YOUR PHONE you: i feel like u need to stop asking how he does things you: uve known him for longer than me and im not surprised anymore you: also IN THE INFIRMARY? johnny: thats what i was coming to tell you!!!!! 🙄🙄🙄🙄 you: why did u frame it like its a good thing?????????? johnny: because he got put there by Kyle during training johnny: we were practising chokeholds and he passed out you: I STILL DONT SEE HOW THATS A GOOD THING JOHNNY johnny: HES FINE YE DON'T UNDERSTAND johnny: HE GOT ROCK HARD WHILE KYLE HAD HIS LEGS WRAPPED AROUND HIS THROAT you: WHAT??? you: tell me more 👀 johnny: 😏😏 johnny: he was wearing shorts and his cock just popped out you: LIKE OUT OUT? johnny: out out 🍆 you: wow 😮‍💨 you: did u get any pictures? 👀 johnny: i did bonnie do ye want them? 😏 johnny: even caught the look in prices and kyles faces when it happened you: send me send me send me you: wait it happened in front of them???? johnny: worse happened in front of everyone 🥴 we were training with other units you: oh shit you: that has to have been embarrassing you: is he okay though from passing out? you: johnny? you: wow imagine ignoring me kyle: johnny's a little occupied at the moment lovie! kyle: good morning btw! 😚 you: good morning ky!! 🫶 you: occupied? kyle: ghost's chasing him for telling you everything and johnny's running for his life 😭 you: 🙃 you: normal day then? kyle: normal day 🥴 you: okay then well hope the training went well kyle: it did! 😏 anyway got to go kyle: pls go back to sleep need you well rested lovie you: i will i will.

Sighing a bit, you set your phone down on the charger again and attempt to go back to sleep... unsuccessfully so.

After half an hour of tossing and turning, you find yourself grabbing the phone again and your thumb clicks on John's name in your contacts.

You don't text him often, the last time having been nearly a week before, but, right now, you felt like you should.

you: the lads just woke me up you: johnny more specifically 🙄 you: now i cant get to sleep again john: if it's any consolation john: I told him not to john: need help? you: how would u help? john: can call you and sing you a lullaby? you: pls dont john: then I'm out of ideas darling you: u could help in another way john: and what's that? 😏 you: remember how u said u had a house of ur own you: and if i ever needed a break we could go there? john: i see 😏 john: want me to take you away for the weekend darling? you: yes please

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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[koiiiji]

being in big deals from beginning with Sinu, but leaving with Samuel after

pairing ; samuel seo x reader x jake kim

tw ; polyamorous, mfm, possessive! samuel

author note ; my first time writing for lookism and for this two, also im on chapter 343 only, so if something not accurate enough im sorry!! ALSO celebrating 400 followers!! and even tho ask box is closed, i still want to do something nice for you, so if you want you can leave your requests for SHMOL sketches under, i will do it super short and put it in one post!! lookism and windbreaker💋✨💐🤸🏼‍♀️

author note 2 ; not proofed, i wrote it after work with one eye open, so i just throw it to chat gpt to check any mistakes, if you find any you know who you can judge😤🫸🏻

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⋆𐙚₊˚ you have been with big deals even before Jake and Samuel joined, which means you were more close with Sinu, who was like a older brother figure for you

⋆𐙚₊˚ you always were good with calculating and make predictions so you literally was the reason why big deals didn’t have any debts to any other gangs or companies

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake and Samuel joined big deals they firstly didn't pay too much attention, just another girl spinning around Sinu, nothing new

⋆𐙚₊˚ but then they started to notice that you always appears at every meeting, even if it were just for big deal, not including girls who work on their street, always whispering something on Sinu ear and checking some papers

⋆𐙚₊˚ it was slow burn in beginning, they payed you more attention on meetings, started more small talks time to time, as soon as they caught that you are actual part of big deals. also, later they learned that you actually liked Sinu as older brother, and that was the moment when they start... acting…

⋆𐙚₊˚ of course you had your small moments together before. like you accidentally fall asleep on Jake’s shoulder when everybody celebrated another holiday, or when you asked both of them to show you some actions, - in case if you will be alone on the street, so you can protect yourself - and seemed that Samuel got a little carried away and pushed you too hard, but catching you by your wrist just moment before your head was about to hit the ground

⋆𐙚₊˚ there were always that moments between three of you

⋆𐙚₊˚ but first one who started to show off were Samuel

⋆𐙚₊˚ he already were jealous over the fact that Sinu choosed Jake as his favourite one, so he can’t let Jake to have yours attention as well. later it will be worse, when he will learn who Jake’s father was

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel would always flirt with you making it crystally clear that he likes you, and you wouldn't even notice it because of amount of work for big deals and of homework you still had in school

⋆𐙚₊˚ and when Samuel brutally flirts with you, trying to get your attention, Jake would snort, turning his eyes somewhere else, trying to ignore it and telling Jerry to "stop say stupid stuff like this" when he, once again tried to push his boss to admit his feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ for Jake it's complicating because he see how Samuel likes you, so he doesn’t want to ruin everything even tho he himself had so many feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ and Jake waited for too long...

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Samuel took leading position in big deals you were forced to stay by leader side to help him earn as much money as possible to pay to big four, but when Samuel left big deals for workers he asked you to go with him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel was far from gentle man, but when his huge arms hugged your shoulders from behind, softly murmuring into your ear to come with him in new gang, to join him and stay by his side, offering you simply better life, where you won't need to calculate how to save more money until next month, where you will be able to buy expensive clothes, where you can offer yourself jut... more... it was hard to resist to Samuel espesially when you lived your whole life expecting how to safe money to the next month and economize as much as you can

⋆𐙚₊˚ so thats how you left big deals with Samuel, still with heavy heart for Sinu and big deals in general

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake was feral when Jerry told him that. in his head it was more like Samuel forced you. oh, Jake were fully aware that Samuel were able to use power over girls, and Jake blamed himself for the fact that you had to leave the big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ when you and Samuel become part of workers, he won’t let you go far away from him. you would be his personal assistant and manager. everything but always by his side. you always. by his side. always. Samuel even went that far that he rent big apartments for both of you, of course with separate rooms, you still didn’t accept his feelings and were naive about what kind of emotion you rise in him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake tried to contact you few times but, oh wow, what a surprise, Samuel always were the one to pick up the phone, telling him to leave you alone

⋆𐙚₊˚ to say less Jake felt terrible back then, things that happened to Sinu, Gun Park and his big four gangs, praises about money and the heir at his place, big deals, everything at one time…

⋆𐙚₊˚ and then prison… Jake felt like biggest loser on this planet

⋆𐙚₊˚ and he would never wish you to see all horrors of this place, but here you are sitting on the other side of safety glass, looking too beautiful to place like this, too pretty in your fitted white shirt and pleated skirt. Jerry probably yanked you right out of the office. another self note - to chastise Jerry next time for bringing you to place like this

⋆𐙚₊˚ “Jake… im sorry, i had no idea what happened to you” you murmured softly into the receiver of the phone connecting the two sides. “Samuel never said anything about that… I was shocked when Jerry just caught me near office and crammed me in the car”

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that day, you came to Jake more often, slipping away from Samuel under the pretext that you wanted to meet an old friend from school and he didn't need to attend girls' gatherings

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake finally got out of prison, one of the first things that he did was ask you to eat ramen together. you told him everything about your new life, that now you live with Samuel and he takes care about everything, starting with payments for apartments, finishing with fuel for car, as he always ready to ride you to any part of city

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake felt feral when you told him whole story.

⋆𐙚₊˚ not only that bastard not tell you what happened to Jake, but he also controlled the calls and forced you to live with him. Jake knew what Samuel's feelings were for you, even if you perceived his care and relationship as friendly or brotherly, Jake still guessed what was behind it. but he never imagined that his friend would get to the point where he would keep you with him 24/7 and secretly control your phone calls from anybody from big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that meeting Jake knew that he can’t offer you to stay at his small room he rent, even if he really wanted you to stay more by his side. he didn't tell you about his guesses about Samuel, you don't have to worry, yet you were safer with him than with Jake now. the only thing he did before sending you home in a taxi was hug you so tightly - tightly, it seems that his hands were a little lower than he should have allowed himself, and his hot breath was a little off when his lips were too close to your neck.

⋆𐙚₊˚ in the end, Jake pushed your hair off your forehead, and pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, shut his eyes and quietly promised himself to deal with Samuel later

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