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love-belle · 3 months

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lo mein kayamat tak hua tera !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which everyone knows that they want each other, except for them and it's time that they change it.

for when you find out forever waala love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // f1 x platonic!reader // aditya roy kapur x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - this is for my desi f1 fans and desi f1 fans only ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by adityaroykapur, lilymhe, maxverstappen1 and 2,681,561 others

yourusername where is my munda kukkad kamaal da

11,986 comments

username the caption is so real like where u @

username SHE'S BACK IN INDIA LET'S GOOO

username Y'ALL PLEASE TELL ME U SAW HER IG STORY 😭😭

-> username NOT Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING

-> username not to mention aditya ALSO posted a girl on his story and she suspiciously looked like y/n ☝️☝️☝️☝️

-> username i'm going feral over this someone call the twitter detectives

username her being back in india means we shamelessly get adityay/n crumbs and im STARVING

username in love with u hello ma'am how r u real

username tere saath saath aisa koi noor aaya hai

-> yourusername don't test me i will cry and marry u on SPOT

username oh i am SO ready for the amount of content we're gonna get from her like winter break!y/n is actually my roman empire

username waiting for aditya and her to just be fucking oblivious in the comments 🙄☝️

landonorris giggling

-> yourusername i will giggle ur ass CHUP ( shut )

-> username 😭😭😭 please free my boy he has done nothing wrong

username 4ever giggling at the fact that aditya was the first person y/n hugged after her podium and they ALMOST kissed like 😭😭

-> username my roman empire fr like i genuinely felt like i was intruding on something

username no one understands her like i do we're the same people and i will make friendship bracelets by braiding our intestines together

-> username i am sorry was that extreme

-> yourusername a bit but i like your commitment

username daniel i expect u to give us updates EVERY HOUR i need to know if these bitches are hopeful or hopeless

danielricciardo i hope you know that adi is currently contemplating what to write and giggling

-> yourusername OH !

-> adityaroykapur this is why i said no to you being in a bollywood film

-> username PLEASE OMG 😭

username i love the fact that so many drivers accompany y/n to india simply bc 1) they want to annoy her 2) they want to annoy aditya 3) they want to star in a bollywood movie so BAD

-> username they're pure of dumbasses your honour

username f1 grid in india where the FUCK is my indian gp ☝️☝️☝️☝️

username howling bc girlie would have her munda kukkad kamaal da if she just became more social

-> yourusername i do not appreciate being called out like this excuse u

username cannot wait for y/n to bully the entire grid into wearing traditionals 🤞🤞🤞

adityaroykapur i love taking pictures of you 💗

adityaroykapur wdym someone prettier than yourusername exists

adityaroykapur wdym i can't keep staring at her posts forever

-> username DUDE GET UP 😭😭😭

adityaroykapur you look leng in a lehenga

-> yourusername thank u :))

-> sidmalhotra actually there's no "leng" in "lehenga"

-> adityaroykapur 😐😐

-> username someone lock away sid PLEASE

-> username my biggest concern is who the fuck taught aditya what leng means 😭😭😭

-> username my bet's on lando ☝️☝️☝️

adityaroykapur glad you liked the jhumkas ❤️

-> yourusername wore them the entire day ❤️

-> username and i'm gone

adityaroykapur chand theri roshni ka halka sa ek saya hai ( the moon is just a slivery shadow of your light )

-> yourusername hayeeee

-> charles_leclerc DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE

-> username omg

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, vickykaushal09, lewishamilton and 2,416,899 others

adityaroykapur black and white

10,729 comments

username i know who he did this for

username oh

username screaming sir why are u so

username OH MY GOD

username he posted this for y/n and y/n only y'all go home

username one chance ☝️☝️☝️

lewishamilton target audience reached 👍

-> adityaroykapur i owe you one 👍

-> username howling at this interaction

username i know that he got this idea off someone from the grid and i know exactly who he exactly got this from

-> username your case here 🎤🎤🎤 georgerussell63

-> username LMAO 😭😭

username giggling oh my god

username PLEASE I LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH

georgerussell63 plagiarism

-> adityaroykapur you told me to post this ???

username screeching no one's doing it like him

username i love how his acc is just promos and stuff and then this thirst trap for y/n and y/n only likee

-> username my man's dedicated idgaf

username cannot wait to witness y/n have a mental breakdown in the comments over this 😭😭😭😭

sidmalhotra as y/n says "what's the square root of 64"

-> adityaroykapur 8

-> kiaraaliaadvani ATE !!!!!!!

-> username i love stupid men and their chronically offline selves

sidmalhotra this why you had to go to the beach itni subha ( early morning )

-> adityaroykapur i brought you breakfast chup ( shut )

-> username soulmates 🤞🤞🤞

usernsme live love laugh aditya roy kapur

yourusername woah

-> adityaroykapur thank you ???

yourusername you're sooooooo

-> adityaroykapur ???

-> yourusername hey bhagwan ( oh god )

yourusername be my munda kukkad kamaal da ???

-> adityaroykapur is this your way of asking me out

-> yourusername idk is it working

-> adityaroykapur absolutely, i'll see you at 7 meri jaan ❤️ ( my life )

-> maxverstappen1 what just happened

-> landonorris did they just

-> pierregasly oh my god

-> charles_leclerc it was that easy ?

-> georgerussell63 we just had to get him to post shirtless pictures. wow.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

yourusername added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

adityaroykapur added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by adityaroykapur, landonorris, kiaraaliaadvani and 2,528,915 others

yourusername he's my sataaye manaaye rulaaye hassaye all in one ( i don't know how to explain it, these are lyrics from a song "maahi ve" and basically it says that he troubles her, makes it up to her, makes her cry and makes her laugh, so like all in one )

tagged adityaroykapur

13,628 comments

username SCREECHING OH MY GOD

username im cryint i love tjem os mucj

username OHFJJSAJSJHHSS THIS IS INSANE I TELL U

username i prayed for this

username no bc i KNEW it the stories gave you AWAY y'all are not SLICK

username i saw them ask each other out that's crazy to think about actually

landonorris still mad i wasn't notified in advance

-> yourusername stay mad

-> landonorris you don't GET it i had to find out through COMMENTS

username in love with them oh my god

username they're my roman empire ur honour

username oh my god 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username the maahi ve reference imma SCREAM

username the way they're literally the it couple oh my god

sidmalhotra finally ‼️‼️‼️

-> yourusername no thanks to u

-> sidmalhotra badtameez ( disrespectful )

kiaraaliaadvani don't listen to sid, I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU I LOVE YOU BOTH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AGES FOR YOU BOTH TO GET TOGETHER OMGGGGG

-> yourusername KI I LOVE U SO MUCH WE CAN FINALLY GO ON DOUBLE DATES LIKE WE PLANNED ☝️☝️☝️☝️

username sid and aditya on a double date obviously with kiara and y/n

-> username need to see this happen immediately for mental health purposes

username everyday i wake up and see some shit like this. why does the universe hate me

username i wish y'all blocked me before posting this (IM SO HAPPY FOR U OH MY GOD)

username me preparing to spot aditya at EVERY gp this year bc i know my boy is not strong enough to leave y/n for more than 27 mins

maxverstappen1 he breaks your heart, i'll nail gun his.

-> yourusername alright edge lord no more wednesday for u

-> username CRYING 😭😭😭

username im so HAPPY y'all don't GET it i've been waiting for this for YEARS

username i screeched and my baby cousin woke up y'all im NOT playing around

username since no one's gonna ask the important question here I WILL

-> username what the story behind aditya and the jhadu photo ( broom )

-> yourusername he was trying to make a point and said that if acting doesn't work out he can start a cleaning service

-> adityaroykapur gaadi waala aaya ghar se kachara nikaal

-> yourusername no we cannot get rid of lando and charles

-> landonorris fuck you

-> username NO BC WHY ARE THEY CATCHING STRAYS AT EVERY POINT

adityaroykapur PRETTY word is real and it belongs to her and her only

adityaroykapur a living angel

adityaroykapur making my pupils dilate

adityaroykapur prettiest 💗💗💗

adityaroykapur my phone just did a backflip

-> username lord when will it be me

adityaroykapur i have NEVER made you cry

-> yourusername false u called me a daayan yesterday when i had my hair down ( witch )

-> adityaroykapur BECAUSE YOU LOOKED LIKE ONE

-> yourusername WOOOOOOOW.

adityaroykapur we're cute together or whatever 🥰

-> yourusername whatever 🤨

-> adityaroykapur we're cute together 🥰 ****

-> yourusername perfect 🤞

adityaroykapur all i'm saying is, it would be a GOOD cleaning service

-> yourusername never quit your day job we'd go broke so FAST 😞

-> adityaroykapur what happened to "sheesh mahal na mujhko suhaye tujh sang sooki roti bhaaye" ( basically the hindi version of "i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings" )

-> yourusername that's very rich coming from u considering ur roti looks like a different country every time

-> adityaroykapur wow.

username in love u don't get me

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, sidmalhotra, lewishamilton and 2,368,257 others

adityaroykapur i promise to take photos of you forever if it means i get to be by your side. lo mein kayamat tak hua tera ( i'm yours till the end of the world )

tagged yourusername

13,178 others

username im crying btw

username GOING FERAL OVER THE CAPTION WHAT THEBFUCK KK

username i audibly gasped i want what they have ‼️‼️‼️‼️

username THEY'RE MY PARENTS EVERYONE SHUT UP

username taylor swift writes songs about them btw

-> username ARIJIT SINGH writes songs about them more like 😭😭

username forever cackling bc sis really asked him out in the comments section

-> landonorris she got no game 😞❌

-> yourusername still pulled a bitch before u

-> landonorris she called you a BITCH adityaroykapur

-> yourusername WATCH UR BACK AT TURN 1 IN BAHRAIN I WILL ANNIHILATE U

-> adityaroykapur ...

username crying bc we're gonna get aditya at EVERY gp like im not even wrong bc that man's down BAD for her

-> username simply existing gf 🤝 obsessed bf

username god i see how kind u have to others

username alright y'all time to hug a tree 362 kmph

username O MAAHI LYRICS I AM DEAD I AM GONE I AM DECEASED I AM DECOMPOSING I AM SIX FEET UNDER

sidmalhotra happy for you both 🙄🙄🙄

-> sidmalhotra 🥰🥰🥰*****

-> yourusername stay mad bc i stole ur bf ☝️🙄

-> adityaroykapur did i unintentionally start another fight ⁉️

sidmalhotra finally no more talks about how much you want her 🥳🥳🥳

-> adityaroykapur that was CONFIDENTIAL

-> yourusername tell me more ☺️ sidmalhotra

username AND WE ALL CHEERED FINALLLLY

username the it couple of bollywood AND f1 i said what i said

username need me a guy who will post me like this or wtv 🙄🙄🙄🙄

yourusername bold of u to assume i'm leaving after the world ends 😕

-> adityaroykapur we'll haunt sid together 🤝

-> yourusername OMGGGGG YES

-> sidmalhotra MEINE KYA KIYA ( what did i do )

yourusername why do u always catch me off guard i look so bad 😭

-> adityaroykapur jhoothi you look perfect ❤️ ( liar )

yourusername i love u

-> adityaroykapur i love you so much more

-> oscarpiastri we get it MOVE ON

-> yourusername 😐😐😐

-> username LMAOOOOO

username i'm in awe WE'RE FINALLY HERE PEOPLE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #pierre gasly x reader #carlos sainz x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 x platonic!reader

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yrqrnc · 4 months

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nct 127 reaction . . . you not saying i love you back !

pairing: 127 x reader

genre: fluff, crack, y/n pranking the boys <\3

a/n: i am one year late, but here’s the 127 version! i am so sorry for being so dead here. can’t promise i will be active again, but here is something for now.

if you haven’t yet, check out the dreamies version of this — here ! please enjoy, maybe reblog it too? <3

TAEIL

ngl he just kind of freezes and gets embarrassed even though he did nothing wrong 😭

like, he’s got that shaking-eyes and cold sweat thing going on and he’s fighting a war in his head as he tries to recall how he happened to wrong you today

but he didn’t ????? and he’s so confused

he's all like "should i say it again? did they not hear me—?"

so then, comes another "*clears throat in that father way* um, hey..? i love you (?)"

and still no response bcs you’re evil.

then he actually gets so panicked bcs WHY AREN’T YOU SAYING IT BACK THIS TIME

best believe he'll be asking you if he did something wrong and upset you somehow and all those innocent questions until you feel so bad for doing this to him

JOHNNY

is offended.

no genuinely, once he knows you’re not saying it back, he's just standing there like 🧍🏼

gives you a FULL ON side eye— actually, no it's not even side, baby, he's giving you a full on FULL EYE 👁👁

"hey, i said something."

and you’re just trying to play it off and continue with the prank and act like this stare-down thing he's doing is not affecting you

but... come on man who are you trynna fool 😭

eventually, it ends up with him trapping you in them bulky ass muscle-ly arms and not letting you breathe until you give him what he wants 🥰

now depends on you how long you can fight the suffocation of his biceps 💪🏼

TAEYONG

oMYGOD no bcs he WAITS so devastatingly for you to say it back, because he genuinely believes you’re gonna say it back :((((

and then a whole fucking minute passes, and you're still going about your business like you ain't even heard him

and his mind is like ❓️❓️❓️❓️☹️❓️❓️☹️❓️☹️❓️☹️❓️☹️❓️☹️❓️☹️❓️❓️☹️☹️☹️☹️

and he's so sweet he says it aGAIN in such a soft manner

"i love you :("

and your bitchass is strong enough to continue with your act so you're all like "mmhm you're getting late for the meeting taeyong"

now okay, the i love you avoidance was eNOUGH and you just go ahead and call him with his government name

THE LOOK ON HIS FACE

when i say, THE LOOK ON HIS FACE 😠😠‼️‼️‼️ AND YOU CAUSED IT

he gets so sad but he doesn’t even know what to do, so he just murmurs a tiny "oh ok." and just sadly grabs his bag and walks out the door

and tHEN you rush out to grab him before he actually leaves upset, and press kisses against his face as you laUGH (how dare u😟) and tell him you were just pranking him

now watch him ignore you for his own satisfaction lmao

(pls don’t do this to him it was physically hard to write it☹️)

YUTA

you gotta have some guts for this lmao

he knows you’re playing (or atleast that’s what he wants to believe)

in the back of his mind, he’s lowkey worried if you’re hurt or upset because of anything he did but no one knows that, no one talks about that 🥰

he’s like "oh, alright. this how we gon' play?" and you’re just fighting for your life, trying to hide the deceiving grin climbing up your face

and purposefully, to tease you, he goes "nevermind whatever i said, i take it back actually—" and now YOU'RE offended bcs???? no???? that's not how it was supposed to go

oh, how the turn tables 👹👹👹

DOYOUNG

gets offended (pt 2) but in a less sassy way than mr. johnny

in his mind, he's thinking "the audacity??? not saying it back???? to me????"

and even though he's irritated (lovingly) by you, he says it just once more incase you missed it

but no, still no reply. and he just huffs and you can hear him go like "fine." under his breath 😭

doesn’t even bother giving you any further reactions lmao

he just goes about his business and acts like you don’t exist bcs you didn’t say it back, like, why didn’t you say it back 🙄

then you get so disappointed bcs??? hello where's the dramatic reaction i (you) wanted???

and so you walk up to him and you're like "you were supposed to react better"

and he gets 10x more offended like,,, REACT???? YOU LET ME SAY A ONE-SIDED I LOVE YOU FOR SOME REACTION???

might jump you, gawk at you or ignore you depending on his mood <3

JAEHYUN

he just finds it funny tbh 😭

like, what is this kid trynna do lmao😹😹😹 (irrespective of whether you're older or younger, bcs you’ll always be his baby<3)

gives you a kiss on the cheek and that dad laugh of his

he can’t even get mad honestly, he just thinks you’re cute lol

and then you get lowkey embarrassed and highkey upset bcs you didn’t get the reaction you wanted

but he knows just how to make you nvm that shit cause he pulls up with the "what do you want for dinner? chicken wings? dumplings?"

and your mind just goes "OH FOOD 😁‼️" like,, prank??? what prank???

JUNGWOO

depending on his mood, he can either get really sulky or he can be really random w his reaction🧍🏻‍♀️

if he's feeling soft that day, then he’ll get sulky and really pouty (on purpose ofcccc)

would probably fake-cry and start wailing real loud that you don’t love him anymore 😭

on the other handdd, if he’s feeling playful when you pull this shit, then...

things might take a different turn

might start throwing cringe and corny pickup lines to get your attention 💀

oRRRR/and he might just give you that smug look of his and start saying some really random shit like "they love me so much, they can't find good enough words to express it 😁🥰"

like BOIII WHERE DID THAT EVEN COME FROM WHAt are you talking— 😭😭

MARK

find his reaction here !

HAECHAN

find his reaction here !

[do not copy, translate or repost my work anywhere as yours.]

#📂 — nct . . !#nct 127 reactions #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 headcanons #nct imagines #nct reaction #nct reactions #nct ff #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios

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doeidawn · 27 days

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☁︎ — Gaz my beloved <3 u know that man is a pussy worshiper; f!reader, nsfw 18+ (MDNI)

Just the mere thought of you tested every ounce of Kyle’s self-restraint. Nevermind the years of training wherein he learned just how crucial it was to have patience and control himself—this man would give up everything if it meant he could live between your legs.

He’s typically on his knees within seconds of walking through the door when he returns home. No matter how long he’s gone or why he left, he kneels and works his mouth like there’s no sweeter prayer; like he’ll cease to exist if he doesn’t taste you. There was no question that the man worshiped the very essence of your being.

Some nights he would be so desperate to feel you cum that he would do everything he could to make you lose yourself hard and fast. But that wasn’t the norm. No, Kyle was a man who loved to see every minute detail—every little reaction—that he could coax out of you. There was no sweeter agony than his determination to turn you into a mess. He knew exactly how to touch you. He knew exactly where to place his mouth and when to back off.

You could always tell straight away when you’d end up with a night of teasing and begging. Kyle would spend minutes rubbing and squeezing the pillowy skin at the top of your thighs before he even thought about touching you anywhere else. He loved to hear the way your breathing grew deeper, loved to watch your legs spread without being asked. If you were lucky, he’d brush his fingers over your panties as a fleeting promise of more.

He didn’t often grant you that luxury.

No, oftentimes Kyle would hold your legs apart by the underside of your thighs and simply enjoy himself. He’d litter kisses over your thighs, starting at your knee and slowly—by God, did he always go so slow—working his way to the dip where thighs met pelvis. His tongue would dart out occasionally to lap at sweat-slicked skin. Teeth grazed old hickeys and love bites, planting new ones wherever he deemed necessary. He’d do that for long and arduous sets of two on each side until you either begged or squirmed enough.

He loved it when you wore lighter-colored panties so he could see the fabric darken with evidence of your desperation. It was only then would he lean in to place a wet kiss on your clit through the fabric (and maybe even a second if he was feeling generous.) Long, slow licks with the flat of his tongue covered your panties as if he was trying to taste your slickness off of the fabric. It was almost aggravating; not enough friction to be pleasurable, but just enough to make you need more.

You’d beg him for more, to take the restricting garment off. “C’mon, Ky…take ‘em off, please,” you’d whine. All he would offer in return was a dismissive “mm-mmm” against the fabric that ever-so-slightly vibrates your clit.

And he’d do that until he had his fill, until he decided he needed to taste the real thing. He’d tug the thin material down your thighs and off of your legs before his hands return to keep you propped open. He’d take a moment to admire—no, to assess—the state of you.

And of course he wouldn’t give you exactly what you wanted quite yet. He’d lean in just enough to brush his lips over the apex of your thighs, letting the anticipation stir as you grow needier and wetter. His hands would move inward, thumbs spreading your lips apart as his fleeting kisses trail closer. Sometimes his tongue would dart out to collect the slick that coated your entrance, other times he would plant kisses around your hole until you pleaded for more.

The teasing was relentless, almost endless on some nights. It never became easy to deal with when he tormented you with those gentle touches, but, Christ, was it always worth it when his mouth finally connected with your pussy and gave you that hot and wet friction that you needed more than air.

Kyle knew you wouldn’t last long if he completely devoured you—could probably time it if he really wanted—and sometimes he’d grant you that. But, typically, he’d take his time and let you really feel his tongue as it lapped slow strips from your hole to your clit.

Then his hands would slide slowly upwards, taking your hips in his grasp, his thumbs pressed gently into the dip of your hipbone. That was his way of keeping you in place while he worshiped you; he wanted to make sure you felt every little movement of his mouth over your sensitive flesh.

Sometimes it was seconds later, sometimes it was torturous minutes away, but he’d always give you what you wanted. The flat of his tongue lapped hungrily at your clit as he sucked just hard enough to make your toes curl.

Perhaps the best part about his devotion was how much he let you know he loved it too. Aside from the wet sounds your cunt and his mouth made together, Kyle was never one to shy away from moaning at your taste.

He loved to speak right into your cunt, letting his breath hit your core and watch as you twitch in response. “Christ, you taste so damn good, love. All f’me, innit?” And when you could barely form words because of him, he accepted a breathless but affirmative grunt as an answer. “That’s right, yes it is. Pretty li’l cunt is leakin’ for me.”

He didn’t care if his words were muffled or his praise was lost between groans and sloppy wetness. As long as he could let your pussy know how much he loved it, he would.

He’d slip in a finger or two if you asked for it, but he preferred to make you cum with nothing but his mouth. He liked to see how wet he could get you and feel you clench and throb around his tongue. To him, there was no greater sense of accomplishment. It was an addictive high. So much so that he never left you with just one orgasm; two was the absolute bare minimum. But Kyle wasn’t one to do the bare minimum.

He was so knowledgeable of your body that he seemed to know your limits before you did. He knew when he could get another one out of you before you crashed for the night. Even if it felt like you had nothing else to give, he somehow always coaxed another one out of you.

It helped when that sickly sweet tone of his encouraged you to keep going. “You can gi’me one more, yeah? Just one more, baby.” Greedy, that’s what he was. “I know you can do it. Just give me one more. Just one more time, alright?” Greedy, but damn good at getting your body back to that peak.

He’d hold you down tighter if you squirmed too much, but, truthfully, he loved feeling your thighs tense around his head when you got sensitive. Plush skin would cover his ears and drown out the rest of the world—leaving only him and your sweet pussy.

You can barely recall a time when your legs didn’t tremble as he’d pull his mouth away. Of course, he never left his prize without a set of departing kisses that trailed back down to your knees. It was a wonder he didn’t always smell like you—his face was an absolute mess every time; slick and coated with his saliva and your cum.

You bet he’d keep his mouth on you all day if you’d let him.

#more Gaz love in the fandom pls #clown writes #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #gaz x reader #gaz cod #gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty

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2hightocare · 1 month

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LOVE WAGER! 02

Synopsis: The concept of love resurfaces as you both agree to center your psychology project on the premise that love is a choice. You propose an intriguing idea to Jungkook: he must exert every effort to make you fall in love with him within a month, to back up his belief.

Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. angst/romantic comedy.

Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, neglectful parents, mentions of depression, banter, cussing, ex girlfriends, flashbacks, jungkook low key being super mean and discarding people’s feelings, jungkook hard-key depressed, implications of sex.

a/n: hai… this is so long overdue— exams month is coming and I had the biggest writers block fr but here’s my beloved babies. Song of the chapter— ��love is embarrassing” by Olivia Rodrigo.

prev chapter! series masterlist!

Love.

Love is an intricate subject in its own right. Scientists elucidate it through the interplay of three cerebral chemicals: noradrenaline, dopamine, and phenylethylamine.

That's how Jungkook perceived love. He didn't subscribe to the notion of butterflies in the stomach or the fluttering heartbeat as justifications for love. To him, love was a scientific phenomenon, a complex emotion akin to sadness or jealousy-if he could evade such feelings, he would spare no effort.

But why did his stomach churn as if his organs were performing tiny somersaults whenever he gazed at you a tad too long? You were engrossed in the menu, pondering whether to get a burger or a slice of pizza.

Seated beautifully in your loose red Formula One shirt, Jungkook couldn't fathom how you managed to make that oversized shirt look so good.

Jungkook's eyes dropped to the ribbon in your hair, wondering why someone who was a full-on adult looked pretty, adorable even-with a red ribbon tied into a beautiful bow contrasting your skin and eyes. Your long eyelashes entranced him. He felt his stomach do something, a turn? Maybe his stomach was upset-he thought to himself.

Jungkook couldn't believe he found himself willingly sharing a table with you at the same dinner two years ago, he almost killed you at. He had moved to Emberhill U two years ago, ever since he moved out from his mom's house. Jungkook's life had gone to hell, which is exactly what his mind would tell him ever since his mom got a boyfriend. To make matters worse, he now had step-siblings.

He hated every bit of it. He wasn't jealous whatsoever.

It was the fact that his mom seemed to forget he even existed in the first place. Jungkook was hurt. He tried not to dwell or cry about it since he was a big boy-that's what he told himself now, pushing twenty-two, but still, part of his already broken heart shattered more.

How could your mom forget about her child? How could she not care about her only flesh and blood? He never told her that ever. Talking about his feelings with his mom was like talking to a brick wall that nothing could pass through. Plus, Jungkook wasn't good at communicating or talking about his feelings anyway. He found it embarrassing to lay yourself out there for someone to be able to discard you at any given moment.

Jungkook's dad wasn't any different as wellbeing too busy with work to even call him to ask his son if he was okay or how school is going. But the calls or text messages never came. Jungkook was used to it. It was his everyday. It was more shocking when he did call, but he wouldn't know what that would feel like since he never called ever since the divorce. Jungkook knew the divorce wasn't his fault whatsoever. His therapist—that his high school counselor made him go to—basically talked his ear off about how anything that happened wasn't his fault, but still, it felt like it was.

Ever since everything went down, his parents seemed to forget they had a child, who still needed them.

One advantage of his situation was the freedom to do as he pleased without his parents' interference. However, the downside was their lack of concern for his activities or just him in general. Jungkook was certain: if his parents didn't love him, who else in the world would? So, he didn't believe in love. When the two people meant to demonstrate unconditional love failed to do so, he doubted anyone else would. He would like to say that it didn't affect him and it's been years since everything, but deep down it still did.

Jungkook experiences a pang of guilt every time he looks at you. Perhaps it's the way he behaved when he first met you, the influence of the romantic comedy in your hands causing him to lash out at you.

Something about your ribbons makes him feel that you’re too innocent and naive for this world—part of him wants to shield you from its harsh realities, while another part wants to disillusion you about the cruelty of the world and the disparity between love in fairy tales and reality.

"Are you done daydreaming?" You say, interrupting his thoughts. Jungkook shakes his head, attempting to banish his thoughts before raising an eyebrow at your curious doe eyes. "I wasn't daydreaming," he states proudly, prompting a scoff from you, a grin tugging at Jungkook's lips.

"It was either daydreaming or checking me out since you were staring at me for a hot minute, but I decided otherwise since you have a girlfriend," you quip nonchalantly before calling the waiter to take your order.

"First of all, I don’t have a girlfriend, and second of all, what if I was checking you out?" Jungkook challenges. He didn’t know why he enjoyed getting on your nerves—any other person he would probably flip off and never give them the time of day, but instead, here he was with you doing the complete opposite.

"What happened to the girl from the dinner?" You question, your eyes finally meeting his brown ones. A glint of something passes over his eyes before disappearing as quickly as you saw it—so you thought maybe you had imagined it.

"Who?" Jungkook says, tilting his head to the side as he leans forward, his elbows propped on the table. "the one you mentioned to me two years ago? The one you discussed intimately," you mimic his voice. Jungkook's smile widens, amused by your jest.

"If you want to know so badly, we broke up—well, she broke up with me," Jungkook clicks his tongue, observing your expressions closely. He notices the creases of your forehead whenever you are thinking or the way you bite your lower lip to contain a smile that’s threatening to come out, each time Jungkook says something dumb.

"Oh, let me guess, she wanted love letters and sweet words whispered into her ear," you mock him, knowing he said that he didn’t need to do any of that to keep a girl. "You’re annoying, Ribbons," Jungkook shakes his head with a low soft chuckle.

You watch him pick up the menu and start scanning the items as you observe him. You notice how his jaw clenches momentarily before relaxing, his tongue poking on the inside of his cheek, making you wonder if you angered him—and if you did, maybe you should do it more often since he looked hot—

Record scratch.

Your mind was playing games with you the more you watched the raven-haired boy. The more you realized he was the epitome of the boy you imagined whenever you were reading a book, the dimples on his cheeks, the scar right above his cheekbone, and the mole underneath his bottom lip had you wanting to ask him for his whole life story.

He also looks like those cute love song playlists that had all your favorite songs in them, but you knew from the way he acts around you, it was definitely a hard no and maybe you were delusional after all. So you try hard to shove those ideas into the back of your brain as far as you could.

"I knew that you couldn’t keep a girlfriend," you shrug, prompting a gasp from him as he jokingly places a hand on his heart, as if you had just dealt him a mortal blow.

"Wow, YN doesn’t think I’m boyfriend material?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, shaking his head.

"You’re literally everything that's not boyfriend material," you throw your head back with a laugh, observing his widened eyes with amusement evident on his face. "Ouch," Jungkook scoffs dramatically.

"What makes you say I’m not boyfriend material?" he says, scanning the room for a waiter but finding none, before redirecting his attention to you.

"You don’t believe in love, that's one way to start," you point out, eliciting a hum of agreement from him. "What's that got to do with being a good boyfriend? I assure you that a good boyfriend isn’t necessarily head over heels in love," Jungkook says, as if imparting a valuable lesson, while your facial expression betrays you.

"The fuck? You literally hate everything related to love. Being a good boyfriend means doing cliche shit you hate doing so much, how could you possibly be boyfriend material?" you assert proudly, prompting an eye-roll from him.

"All that stuff is just superficial shit that everyone collectively agreed on. It’s just embarrassing how people put themselves go through all that just to make someone lik—“

"Love," you interject, earning yourself a glare from across the table.

"Like I was saying, I stand by the fact all those stupid romantic gestures are pointless. Society basically romanticized love and set up unrealistic expectations— everything just leads to heartbreak and disappointment," Jungkook continues, you watch how the hard expression on his face wavers to something more… sad, like he was talking from experience.

"Have you ever experienced love?" you inquire, not sure why since you guys weren’t even friends in the first place—the only reason you found yourself sitting with him willingly was because of psychology class.

"What?" Jungkook is caught off guard by the sudden question.

"Have you ever been in love?" you reiterate, observing his expression harden once more. "No, never, and I don’t plan to," Jungkook shrugs, going back to his usual cocky self in a blink of an eye, prompting yet another eye-roll from you, marking thirty-eighth.

You didn’t get the chance to reply since a waiter came to your table, apologizing for taking so long to get to us before taking our orders.

You and Jungkook decided on sharing a pizza, and you obviously ordered a coke, which got Jungkook joking about how he isn’t trying to make you choke again, which had the waiter shifting uncomfortably beside you both while Jungkook had an eating-shit grin on his face.

“That’s not what he meant!” You chuckled nervously, your face reddening, matching your shirt from how embarrassed you are.

“No, it’s okay, you don't have to explain,” the waiter said before excusing himself.

The moment the waiter was out of your line of vision, you turned your head to the boy who’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck was that?” You glared, your eyebrows scrunching. “What, you both just have a dirty mind,” Jungkook shrugged, the grin on his face making you shift in your chair.

Jungkook's aura was unlike anything you’d ever stumbled upon, and you hated it. It made you want to know more about him than you should, the way he carried himself and talked had you questioning why? He wasn’t so different from other boys you had met, besides the fact that he spoke his mind as if no one was around, not caring if he hurt your feelings or offended you. It was refreshing in some way, but it still made you want to pull your hair out.

“Alright… let’s change topics, Mr. Anti-Romantic,” you say, watching his smile widen.

“What?” You stared at him, trying to think what could possibly make him smile that much. You were sure your face would hurt if you possibly smiled that much.

“Nothing, I just find it extremely hot when you call me that, it turns me on,” Jungkook said, leaning forward.

Okay, that’s not exactly what you were imagining him saying. Your eyes widened momentarily, feeling your heartbeat rise. The smile not leaving his face had you feeling hot, as if the room temperature suddenly increased.

“Uh… so, project,” you blinked rapidly.

“Yeah, project,” Jungkook agreed, smile still on his face as he saw your cheeks flush with a reddish color.

“So, any ideas about what our project can be about?” You said, grabbing the hair tie around your wrist and using it to make a ponytail, taking the ribbons out before tying your hair.

Two small strands fell from your face, tempting Jungkook's fingers to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He wanted to slap himself back to reality since he never in his life thought those thoughts, not even with Haneul, whom he dated for five months, setting a record. He still remembered the reason she gave him for breaking up. It was laughable.

“Jungkook, you don’t even look at me with love, and I know you said when we first met that it was only attraction, but I thought you would change over time the more we hung out,” Haneul whimpered, tears gathering around her eyes as Jungkook just stared at her, not knowing what to say. Because yes, he did tell her it was all attraction, and it’s still only attraction to this day for him.

“You don’t hold my hand or give me kisses, you don’t even give me flowers,” Haneul cried, her voice cracking with each word she said.

“I told you, I don’t do that stuff,” Jungkook said. He felt bad for her since he knew she deserved better, but he didn’t feel bad about not doing those things for her since he told her he wouldn’t and never would do them. And she agreed, so why was she crying about it now when she agreed to it five months ago?

“I know you did, but I thought you just… fuck, you haven’t even introduced me to your family,” a crack is heard from Jungkook's heart, but not for the girl in front of him crying her heart out, but for himself, because yeah, he had no family he could take a girl home to, since he had no home at all. He had a house, but it was as empty as he was.

“Haneul, I told you—“

“Yeah, that you will never do that! I get it, okay? I get it, but fuck, how can you not care? Do you not feel anything when it comes to me?” The girl wept more, which had Jungkook sighing.

“I like you, Haneul,” Jungkook replied. “I love you, Jungkook, can’t you tell…” she whispered, a choked sob leaving her lips as she looked up at the man who’s just standing in front of her like nothing.

“I’m sorry,” that's all Jungkook said… because what else could he say? It was either that or that he didn’t love her, but to not take it personally since he didn’t love anything?

So instead, he said the only thing he could muster without his voice cracking.

“Love,” Jungkook finally says, his statement catching you off guard, widening your eyes in surprise.

“Love? I thought you hated love,” you raise an eyebrow, perplexed by his sudden declaration.

“I do, but love is psychological. We can discuss how we, as humans, have the ability to choose whether we fall in love or not,” Jungkook articulates.

“That’s not how love works, Jungkook,” you retort, to which he responds with a disapproving nod. “It does, though,” Jungkook rebuts.

“It doesn’t. Love is not something we can choose and pick, it just happens,” you try to explain.

“You believe love just happens, but I disagree, respectfully,” Jungkook adds, causing you to tilt your head curiously, intrigued by his perspective. “I’ve held on for too long without being in love since I said I wouldn’t fall in love,” he concludes.

“That’s because you haven’t met anyone you actually want to try with… maybe you just haven’t met your soulmate,” you suggest, annoyance evident on Jungkook’s face the moment you mention the concept of soulmates.

“Soulmates don’t exist, ribbons,” Jungkook snickers.

“I beg to differ,” you cross your arms, adamant in your belief. “I don’t know what fantasy lovey-dovey world you live in, but soulmates are just made up,” Jungkook shrugs casually.

“Maybe you are right about the fact that you get to choose who you fall in love with since I know for a fact I would never fall in love with you,” you spitefully state.

Jungkook nods, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth that catches him off guard. Perhaps it was the fact that someone had just openly admitted they wouldn’t want to love him—reminding him of the kid he once was, desperately begging his parents to love him. But wasn’t this what he was trying to prove in the first place, that love was a choice? Then why did it hurt to hear you say those words out loud?

“Atta girl, finally got it huh,” Jungkook smirks, ignoring the pang of hurt in his chest. “Alright then, if we did do that for our project, let’s say we argued that love is a choice and it doesn’t happen. How do we prove that?” you question.

Silence fills the table as you both brainstorm ideas, trying to back up this argument.

“I got it,” you say, as if a light bulb just appeared on top of your head. Jungkook nods, encouraging you to continue.

“What if we spend a month with you doing absolutely everything to make me fall in love with you? And I mean do all that cliché, romantic shit I love that you hate so much. Since I know for a fact that I choose not to fall in love with you, we can discuss how, even if a person does everything right, you still get to choose who you love,” you explain carefully, ensuring he understands your proposal.

“It’s a good idea for the project; we could use ourselves to illustrate how we pick and choose who we love, like you said,” you try to convince him, giving him the benefit of the doubt after he convinced you of his beliefs. You knew you would never fall for him, even if he did everything you ever read in books and saw in movies.

“We can call it the Love Wager,” you finish, scanning his face as he contemplates the idea.

Jungkook’s mind races, unsure if he likes the idea or absolutely hates it. On one hand, it could earn him a good grade, given the strong rationale behind it, using yourselves as an experiment to support your argument. But on the other hand, the thought of spending a month doing everything he had vocally despised for the past five years gave him the heebie-jeebies.

“Alright then, the Love Wager operation starts,” Jungkook agrees instead, while you clap happily. “Oh my god yay, this might give me an A plus,” you celebrate, giggling as Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story; I just hate psychology,” you say, to which he nods in response.

“Well, we have a month together, so start explaining why you hate it so much,” Jungkook says nonchalantly, and before you could reply, the waiter hurriedly returns to your table, apologizing for the wait, mentioning the kitchen’s struggle with the influx of orders. But you keep your eyes on the boy in front of you, who looks at the waiter, reassuring him it’s okay.

The smell of fresh, hot pizza fills your nostrils as you finally snap out of your trance, looking down at the pizza the waiter is sliding onto the table, cautioning you both that it is extremely hot. The waiter continues to place all the food you ordered on the table before leaving with a bow.

“I’m starving, oh my god,” Jungkook moans as he picks up a slice of pizza and takes a bite, ignoring the steam.

“How is that not burning your tongue, oh my…” you begin to say, but you’re interrupted as you take a bite of your own slice, immediately regretting it as you burn your tongue. “Ah, ah, ha,” you drop the pizza onto your plate, sticking your tongue out and fanning your mouth with your hand. A small laugh escapes from Jungkook as you shoot him a snarky glare.

“He literally just told you it was hot, ribbons,” Jungkook says, grabbing a napkin from the container and reaching over to wipe some sauce off your lips and face. The fanning from your hand halts as you stare at his focused face, feeling yourself heat up again, but this time it’s not your mouth—it’s your cheeks.

“Why did you just do that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, as he sits back down properly. “I’m starting my boyfriend material journey, you know, since the project?” Jungkook says casually, taking another bite of pizza, watching you in surprise as you shockingly observe him not being fazed by the burning food in his mouth, chewing happily.

“Oh… we’re starting right now?” you gesture to the table between you both, indicating ‘right now’. “Yeah, we only have one month, let’s make it worth it,” he says, diving back into his food.

God, this month was definitely going to be a roller coaster.

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yan-lorkai · 26 days

Text

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Was listening some horror stories while I finished some projects then got inspired by it and wrote this. Hope u guys like it <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic yandere content, kidnapping, murder. Probably typos too.

"Nuh-uh, dad!" You looked at the book Lilia carried with him. He had read this book for you a thousand times and a pout formed on your lips, already thinking how you would have to bear this torture again.

There was nothing wrong with the stories, per say. But they get a little old and boring when you had heard them this many times. And Lilia was quite forgetful so asking him to buy other books wasn't always a successful endeavor. Though when you asked him to create a story he told you he wans't creative enough either. You aren't having any of that. You were tired of hearing about snow white, rapunzel, ugly duckling and all the classics. You wanted something new and today you would have it.

"Tell me another story, please!" You asked, making your best puppy eyes at him. Those eyes worked on Silver and Sebek, so you wanted to try on him as well. His reaction was different from the one you were expecting though, Lilia smiled and patted your head.

You loved having him read to you - it was your favorite activity to bond with your father, where you solved mysteries with him and laughed at silly pickup lines, but Lilia was still fond of the classics. There was though another book, called The General Tales. The author was unknown and the cover was painted a dark red, it was strange. And you hadn't the chance to read it because your father was very conscious about it, hiding when you so much as glanced in its direction.

You could only suppose it was a horror book. But you were already quite grown up. You were almost 13 years old! You could sit through any story he read without having nightmares! He didn't seem to agree.

"What am I going to do with you, little batty?" Lilia mused to himself when you showed the book. There was an excited glee in his eyes whenever he looked at it, as if it contained his favorite memories; little did you know what was written on those pages and how much blood they had seen. How much blood Lilia used to write those same pages.

He smiled finally. Dangerously, like he did when you pranked him and he was plotting his revenge.

You make space in your bed for him to sit beside you and he opened those secret pages you had always wondered about. They were yellowed by the time and some were dog eared, written in a beautiful yet hushed cursive. You were fascinated.

Lilia waited till you made yourself comfortable, laying your head against his chest and body nestled into his side, so he turned some pages, humming to himself. You could only think what kind of story would he read to you. You could only hope it was scary. It wans't night time yet and even if you got scared then surely at night, when he put you to bed, you would have already forgotten all the gorey details. Right...?

"There was a couple who lived happily at the woods," Lilia's deep voice started its tale and you closed your eyes to fully immerse yourself in your imaginnation as you listened to him. "but then a plague started to poison the soil and their crops were destroyed. The walk to the nearest village used to take a whole day to go and another to come back. The husband tried to hunt animals to feed his lover and their one year old child but he failed each and every time. Without other options he started traveling to this village."

"Wait, what about the plague?" You asked fulled with curiosity. Then you through to yourself why they didn't tried to make it go away somehow.

Either they tried and didn't worked. Or they didn't even thought about it. Nonetheless, you brushed it off as they don't having this knowledgment. But this bugged you for a second. Humans and faes knew about plagues and how to get rid of them, they been doing this since they were brought to existence.

Your question made Lilia smile cheerfully, you observed. He must be proud of you for asking this, as he had homeschooled you and used to brag about how smart you was to anyone who wanted to listen - he'd brag even if they didn't want to hear. "Ah, you see, they were bad people. The soil knew this and rejected them, my dear."

Well... Growing in Briar Valley you knew this was probable to happen. Fae were internally linked to their florests and woods, and rivers and oceans, and everything nature could touch. That was also why Lilia raised both you and your older brother, Silver, in the woods. He used to take both of you to fish, and swim and watch the dawn all the time. Though time changed and life got busier, maybe you ask him to take you fishing again someday. Or to go camping somewhere.

"Makes sense, what happened to them then?"

"The man bought everything he needed, every last golden coin spent. But he had food for months to come, he was already imagining what his wife would cook on the way back when an incident happened."

Lilia turned the page and you could see a little drawing of a man horse riding into the horizon. Then he started reading again after taking in your expressions.

"A stag came running at him, the horse didn't react at time and both animals collided. Wounded, the animal couldn't walk and neither could the man who had fallen and sprained his ankle. Snow was falling, surrounding him like a veil, all the food he brought with their remaining gains lost there. He thought to himself 'I'm going to die certainly', rejected he was once, rejected he was at that moment. Lost and in pain, feeling miserable, he tried to stand but failed. Every attempt more painful than the other. A river was falling from his eyes when he finally gave up."

Your heart ached at this. But you hoped for the better. Freezing and being left hungry during winter sounded like hell. Lilia pinched your cheek when he noticed you frowning. He laughed at the face you make at him, annoyed at your father's antics.

Lilia smiled. "Nope. Nope, instead he had heard a voice from the woods, a hooded figure was suddenly standing in front of him. He could only see the figure's blood red eyes."

"Oh no, did he die?"

You looked at your father. "Your eyes are red!"

Lilia nodded, his leg bouncing with how excited he was from reading this story. "Do you think the hooded figure was me?"

"Well, it was?" You replied with another ask. Your father didn't respond.

Instead he continued reading. "If I save you, what can you get me in return? The hooded figure asked, crouching to be on the man height. Their touch was tender as they wiped his tears and looked at him, but there was something in them that make him tremble more than snow could. There was something truly evil behind those eyes, something terrible behind that smile. The man didn't answer nor said anything for various minutes. Though for him, hours seemed to have passed. Maybe even years as he looked at those eyes."

"Nah, I didn't think it was you," You thought out loud. "Your eyes are very beautiful and gentle."

Returning your little compliment, Lilia squeezed you in a side hug while laughing. "Oh, thank you sugar. Your eyes are beautiful too."

"But they aren't red as yours." You pouted.

"You wanted them to be?" You nodded. Nor you or Silver have his red eyes. But you wish you had. His eyes were unique, were cute but also intimidating. So intimidating when he wanted them to be that you were imagining that the hooded figure had those same eyes.

You both stayed in that hug before you remind him to read again. There were fewer pages to go now. And again there was a drawing, this time you could see the man with that figure chatting while snow pilled beside them, as if the cold didn't bothered them. Then on another page he stood up and a carriage had appeared, he held the wet food in his arms, saving whatever it was possible to save. He would go back home to his family.

But at what price? It wans't written. The author had keeped too vague.

"When he arrived home, with a new horse and a carriage, which the hooded figure told him to sell for its quality was impressive and he would gain even more gold than he had spended, he was his child running at him, happy that their, uh, father had finally returned. The entire time though, the man could still feel the figure's eyes on him, could see those eyes in his mind. But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind, held his child and whirled around with them to they laughed. He watched them disappear back inside when they got too cold. And then he explained what had happened to his wife, she deserved to know."

He explained this incident with the stag, about the hooded figure and the deal he made with it. And very lowly he whispered how he wouldn't follow his part of the deal - and lying to a fae is something one must never do. Something he shouldn't have done. But he did. And that's the soil reject them even more.

Beneath the earth it was possible to feel the tremors or the wind that pushed everything out of its way. Lilia read how the man dealed with each and every tribulation, how he passed the trials and went his way around the deal, doind the bare minimum to ensure only his and his family safety. He only forgotten that the figure could see him.

"Then one night the hooded figure came to pay him a visit. It knocked on the door and it smiled when it saw the wife holding her child, looking at it with clear fear in her eyes. Like her husband, the wife was trembling in its presence. She let it enter, if anything because she couldn't send him away, she didn't know with what she was dealing, she couldn't act wrong and jeopardize her child safety. Instead she played the role of a welcoming hostess."

Lilia paused a second to breathe then he smiled as if he too was imagining what happened next. Pressed against him you were still. Were it going to kill everyone?

"Please, you may sit here. Do you want to eat something or perhaps are you thirsty? She asked. The air around them was tense. Though her child was poking the stranger without fear, filled with innocent curiosity. The figure picked the child and looked at their eyes. A carnivorous smiled streched on it's face. 'This will be not necessary' the figure said.'"

Another dramatic pause. It was so silent you could hear the birds flying from a considerate distance. It was so silent that you could focus on the blood flowing on your veins. You were anxious to know what happened next. And your father seemed to take fun on this, delaying his narrative to look at the drawing of the figure and the child. This one was colored and you noticed that the child looked just like you. Same hairstyle and same color eye, even same skin color.

You didn't know how to feel about it. You was thinking about what the figure would do to that child. Coming from a horror book you had only one guess. Lilia though didn't share your apprehension as he started narrating again.

"'Call your husband and let's eat. Together. No lies this time or this cutie will pay the price.' The figure warned her. But it know what was fated to happen. The couple were liars and no good persons. Of course they were going to lie. When everyone was seated to eat, the wife served first her guest then her husband then her child and finally herself; though the figure was still holding the child. The wife looked like she wanted to ask something but held her tongue."

Lilia licked his fingers and turned the page. Your heart breaked at the drawing. It seemed painful and explicit but you keeped yourself from looking away, you asked for him to read and you wanted to hear and see everything.

"'Open wide, little one.' The figure told the child, holding Its own spoon of soup to feed the baby. The mother seemed alarmed by it as if she had just done something stupid. And she did, poisoned the figure's spoon and plate, and food too. She held its hand and looked at it with pleading eyes. She fell to her knees, afraid for her child's life and security, stuttering and mumbling. 'please, don't.' she asked it. And a laughed escaped the hooded figure's lips, so sweet, so dangerous, he looked at the child who made grabby hands at the food. 'I said no lies yet you lied to me, tried to deceit me when I've been nothing if good for the both of you. And what did I asked in return? Say it, word by word, to her, mighty husband.' The wife looked at her husband."

"But it was so vague... Dad, what did it said?" At this your father patted your hair, twirling his fingers in your hair to distract you. He almost never replied to you in these moments, wanting you to draw your own conclusions. Still you wished he answered you on this matter. You were too curious and inquisitive.

"'I want you to restore the crops with this insecticide I'm giving you, I want you to make house for the birds and for you to clean the rivers when they thaw. And... And I want your first-born, f-for them to take your place, a-a life for a lif...' The husband answered, without finding his wife's eyes. Though he didn't looked at her, he knew how the color vanished from her face and how she was stunned into silence. He had never mentioned the part where the figure wanted their child, had he done that she would killed him herself. Her pregnancy was problematic and painful but she was so happy that her child was here now, she was delighted to her their little laugh and see them starting to walk and talk. And he stole all this from her."

You gripped your father's arm, you aren't expecting this betrayal. You expected the hooded figure to be the killer who would slaughter everyone and then dance upon their corpses. But there was something intimately sad knowing that someone so close as a father to his own child, could be a liar. You felt a bad taste on your tongue. Though part of you was excited to see where things were going now. Would be possible for this story to have a happily after all? Part of you didn't know but you hoped so.

"'You lied to me? About this?' The poor wife was inconsolable, struggling even to stand still as her whole face burned with ire. She knew nothing could be done. Maybe it was her own fear, maybe it was the figure's presence who seemed to feed into her negative feelings, the next second she threw herself on top of her husband punching and screaming at him. Her chair had fallen to the ground with her plate, food flying everywhere. The hooded figure sighed but tucked the child's face in his neck for them to not see this. The couple flighted like two angry kittens, disjointed, clumsy, without really knowing where to hit to hurt more. It was pitiful to watch. It hummed while the scene unfolded before its eyes. They fought and screamed but the figure still soothed the scared child who gripped its clothes hard. It prevent them from turning around, holding them tightly against it. 'Just a second, little one.' it told them."

A knife fell from the table when the husband managed to kick his wife off him. She hitted her back at the wooded table's leg but took the knife and looked at him with bloodthirsty eyes. She tried to stab him but he dodge and evaded every attack, he laughed at it. And she was feeling angry, so angry she'd die if she could kill him and then the entity who watched them in silence. "I hate you. You ruined everything. You couldn't even do a thing right!"

Her words were words of a frightened woman and, above all, a mom who knew she had lost her child. The precious child who bringed so much life and happiness into her life. You felt sad at this. They were both bad. The husband for making the deal and then not following it, and the wife for trying to poison the hooded figure without trying to ask what it wanted. You wonder if things would have ended differently if they didn't lie.

"The husband could only smile and roll his eyes at this. Nothing he could say was going to be enough, nothing he could say was going to comfort her or save them from their demise. The fight ended when he twisted her own arm and stabbed her with the knife, twisting. She fell on the ground painfully, blood painting the carpet. The last thing she saw was her child sleeping on that creature's arms."

You sniffled, trying to stifle your cry so not get attention of your father. But he was perceptive, always was. He could know what you were doing even if he wasn't in the same room you were. It was a dad instinct kinda of thing, you thought once.

Lilia patted your head, letting you feel what you were feeling without commenting on the small tears that rolled down your chest or tease you. He had told you and Silver multiple times to not be ashamed to cry or feel freely, to not repress your emotions. And you weren't ashamed by it. But you did thought you were overreacting a little. It was just a story after all!

"The now armed man swinged at the hooded figure, tears falling from his eyes the same way they have fallen weeks before. This time though he had an ever more serious reason to cry, he had killed his wife. He lost the one he loved it and it was all that hooded figure fault. Or so he said to himself, still lying. Fighting though was futile, his effort was futile, he was no match for the figure, so agile and fast, even if it was holding a sleepy baby on its arms, it still could fight with ease as if battle and fight were it's old friends. It killed the man easily, with a swing of it's hands and a little magic, the man joined his wife in the afterlife where she would want him down eternally."

You jumped a little when he closed the book, looking at him in disbelief. The tears had dried on your eyes but they were still a little red from crying. "That's how it ends?"

Lilia nodded then added. "Though there's still a line. It goes like: the entity looked at the child affectionately, it had what it wanted, it had the child. The hooded figure finally lowered the hood from its face, revealing its young and yet deceitful appearance. It was a he and he looked at the child gently. 'I'm going to call you Yuu. Fufufu, how does that sound, Yuu?'"

You whined in surprise. It was your name! You liked to think that your name was unique and no one else had it, just so you could feel a little special, but at that moment you didn't know how you felt. There were so many plot twists in that story, your mind seemed to run a marathon by how hard you were thinking about everything. Only thing you could muster was. "They were dumbing, lying to a fae."

Though you wonder... Why there was a drawing of a child so similar to you and that also has your name? You searched for you father's eyes and found him him staring at you. But he wasn't staring how he used to stare, it was mischievous, evil. Dangerous. You found out that you couldn't move, paralyzed in fear while his eyes searched for something inside your soul. Whatever it was he seemed happy, his gaze softening as the minutes passed, his headpats returning slowly.

"How does tea sounds, little one?" He asked. It sounded like death coming from him, Lilia managed to even burn the water. You mumbled something, too busy thinking about the story to care that you were about to be poisoned by Lilia's tea. There was many puzzle pieces missing for you to complete the entire frame.

Maybe someday, Lilia thought with a smug smile.

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #yandere lilia #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia x yuu #yandere lilia x mc #yandere lilia x reader #lilia x mc #lilia x reader #lilia x yuu #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia #twst lilia vanrouge #tw yandere #platonic yandere #male yandere #gender neutral reader #lorkai oneshot

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sunflowerskies00 · 17 days

Text

too sweet, part 3

baby, i can never tell

series master list

liked by taylorrose, rutermcgroarty, trevorzegras, and others

yourusername: 🌊🔜

tagged: taylorrose

jackhughes: so you just don't go to school anymore?

yourusername: I know you never went to college but there's this thing called spring break where class doesn't exist for a week jackhughes: no need to be a smartass yourusername: i learned from the best

lhughes_06: so you just go on vacation and don't tell anyone

yourusername: 1. i told mom and dad. 2. i texted you about this a literal month ago. you ignore me. lhughes_06: i don't recall yourusername: gc dude

_quinnhughes: try to keep the half naked photos to a minimum please

yourusername: that's actually all i plan to post _quinnhughes: why do you like to make me miserable yourusername: why do you like to pretend ur my dad? i already have one- newsflash he's also your dad

rutgermcgroarty: without me? rude.

yourusername: I TOLD YOU TO COME WITH you were all "i have hockey blah blah" rutgermcgroarty: pretty sure i did not say blah blah yourusername: po-tate-toe po-tot-toe markestapa: tf^ edawards.73: wait rut was invited? yourusername: he's an honorary girly edwards.73 yourusername: but i said all of you could come- but hockey rutgermcgroarty: normally i'd hate being called a girly- but I'm honored yourusername: as you should be luca.fantilli: wait i want to be an honorary girly yourusername: we can discuss luca.fantilli markestapa: can i be an honorary girly? dylanduke25: ^ me too yourusername: i'll consider markestapa dylanduke

username02: please she has these men eating out of the palm of her hand

username25: walk em like a dog

_alexturcotte: the sky!

yourusername: you know me- a sucker for a good sunset

taylorrose: bring on the frat boys

yourusername: please edwards.73: excuse me? frat boys?

username30: please she has ethan in a chokehold liked by yourusername

username25: he's probably about to quit hockey just to go on spring break with her

liked by yourusername, edwards.73, dylanduke25, and others

taylorrose: living laughing loving

tagged: yourusername

yourusername: the most live laugh love times

_quinnhughes: did you pack anything besides swimsuits? yourusername

yourusername: no i don't think i did _quinnhughes: of course you didn't

rutgermcgroarty: poor kid is going through it

taylorrose: tell me about it, her phone is blowing up yourusername: i can't enjoy my beach when someone is continuously texting me rutgermcgroarty: tf you want me to do about it yourusername: idk take his phone away or some shit rutgermcgroarty: something tells me that's an awful idea

username12: i just know ethan is going through it with these photos

username20: why is everyone so convinced he likes her username12: just go scroll through their instagram comments for like the last 3 months- something is going on between them

luca.fantilli: i want to go on a girls trip

yourusername: shouldn't have played hockey ig🤷🏻‍♀️ luca.fantilli: fr I should quit yourusername: don't do that you're starting to sound like him luca.fantilli: shit ur right. i take it back

liked by edwards.73, taylorrose, _alexturcotte, and others

yourusername: livin my best life or whatever

tagged: taylorrose

taylorrose: HOT

taylorrose: mommy?

yourusername: don't give anyone any ideas rutgermcgroarty: can you be my mommy? yourusername: no. rutgermcgroarty: 😥 this is devestating yourusername: i will be no one's mommy luca.fantilli: ^well that's even more devastating- not for me- but for some people

jackhughes: every time your literal ass shows up on my instagram i want to unfollow u

yourusername: go for it. ur an opp anyways jackhughes: really? ur calling me an opp? ur the reason i spent most of my childhood grounded yourusername: no you were grounded for being an absolute menace to society lhughes_06: if anyone was the menace it was you yourusername yourusername: ur just mad because i'm mom AND dads favorite trevorzegras: this is almost as good as watching the siblings argue in person yourusername: 😑😑😑

edwards.73: fucking hell *comment deleted*

edwards.73: that's a nice umbrella

dylanduke25: is this guy fr? markestapa: no way you were looking at the umbrella luca.fantilli: he's so far gone rutgermcgroarty: we saw the first comment bud

username93: please I want to look like you

yourusername: GIRL UR GORGEOUS you don't need to look like me, you're STUNNING

username24: i know ethan is regretting every single one of his decisions that made it so he can't be on this vacation rn *liked by yourusername*

#ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #trevor zegras #rutger mcgroarty #mark estapa #luca fantilli #dylan duke #umich hockey #umich boys

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miller-lookforthe-lite · 4 months

Text

steps: part one

joel miller x f!reader

rating: M

words: 6.6k

summary: Westward bound, and your steps are uncertain. Your hands shake, and it's hard to keep the food down. Joel thinks he might know why. (or, how accidents sometimes lead us to our fates.)

tags/warnings: unplanned/(unwanted?) pregnancy, thoughts and discussion of abortion, vomit, canon-typical violence, nightmares, hurt/comfort (u already know what it issss) - please heed the warnings, as these may be triggering to some! MDNI

read on ao3

a/n: here she is boys here she is world. My first TLOU and my first x reader, all in one. this one means something to me, hope it does to you too. part two coming soon

The road is twisting around a bend when you make Joel pull over. He eases as gently as he can off the asphalt, the dense, looming forest closing in around you in the twilight. You swing open the door and barely stick your boot in the grass before you’re emptying the contents of your stomach into the ditch. The skin of your throat burns and your nose reeks, the scent of it is everywhere. Hands on your knees, you heave until nothing is left. You wipe off your mouth with the back of your hand and catch a glimpse of an eagle high above in glowing sunset, what’s left of it to see anyway. You put your hands on your hips, give yourself a second to breathe. In and out, in and out before you have to look at the crease between Joel’s eyebrows, the question hidden under his tongue.

You turn back around and pull yourself up into the beat-up black pickup. Ellie’s faint snores from the backseat almost impress you, her ability to sleep through a loud bodily function steadfastly enduring throughout your journey. A light breeze trickles its way over your spine before you can shut the door and your hair stands on end. You reach for the seatbelt and chance a glance at Joel. He’s making no move to shift back into drive. He frowns at you with that question in his gaze, his wondering brown eyes flicking between your own like he might be about to crack open his dry lips and ask, but he’s snapped out of his reverie by a gunshot off in the woods. He wastes no time, throwing the truck back into gear and pushing onward down the road, resting his hand on your denim-clad, gooseflesh thigh.

Your destination is Wyoming, some Western mountain-filled land that you’d never seen, but had come to know well through old faded maps and silent wishes in your companions’ eyes. Weeks ago, before everything had happened, before Ellie, before losing Tess, Joel had confided in you in a rare moment of quiet that he had always wanted to visit. “The Grand Tetons,” he had muttered darkly. “Thought they might be nice. Guess Tommy did too.” You hope it’s nice. You try hard to tell yourself this, that the beauty of the natural world will make up for its horrors, that there’s something beyond shuffling Infected and the Raider country you currently roam through. You picture a haven in your most secret dreams; maybe a bunker, secluded, serene. Stocked with nonperishables. Perfect for weathering a wretched existence.

Sometimes you convince yourself the truck was a bad idea. It’s loud and gasoline isn’t always so easy to come by, but you’re still too far away. Several weeks skirting broken and ancient infrastructure, and you’ve made it west but not to the West, not the mountains, not the cold like you know must be coming. It’s still too warm, the trees are too deciduous. You have the ridiculous impulse to fan yourself.

You lean your head back against the seat to let your fantasies play out behind your eyelids. There you see Ellie, chattering away with some long-forgotten board game under her arm and plenty of food in her belly. Joel, shaking his head but with eyes glistening joyfully. You, not having to pretend that you aren’t terrified, not running, not pleading, not shaking. Not sick.

A gunshot strikes through the air not far away, pulling you from your daydream. You glance over at Joel, but his eyes stay firmly on the road and his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel.

“Are they close?” Ellie whispers from the backseat, and you start, not even realizing she had stirred. You shoot her your most half-hearted smile and reach your hand back. She threads her fingers through yours absentmindedly.

“We’re okay. We got plenty of gas left. We’ll be out of here before they can even shoot again.”

Ellie’s eyes are wide, she wants so desperately to believe you, and you want so desperately for her to believe. To give her this, one breath of relief.

“Okay,” she murmurs, not releasing your fingers until the night has shifted once again to day.

“Come on!” laughs your brother, egging you on from his perch across the rooftops. He and your younger sister are soaked through, having already braved the icy downpour, the leap across buildings. You laugh along with him until you shift your gaze to where he’s looking. The other crumbling rooftop is empty. Your sister’s not there.

“Brandon, what…?” When you turn your head to look at him, he is gone.

You blink, and you’re in his fancy new office in the FEDRA headquarters. He’s older, just been promoted to some kind of private. He’s ruffling your hair and you’re mad, you know you were trying to say something important, something that would help him, and he’s brushing you off again. “Fuck off, asshole!” You can see the force of your words hammer through the air as you say them. The blast blows Brandon off his feet and he hits the wall, his head snapping to the side. He hits the floor with a thump and lays there without moving.

You open your mouth to shout but your sister’s face is in front of you. You’re in a back alley in Boston, it’s cold, so cold, and you’re so worried. “What did I tell you?” You know to say, grabbing her shoulders and shaking a bit.

“This is the right thing. This is right,” she insists, and your heart sinks.

“This is stupid,” you hiss. “They’ll kill you, Katie. FEDRA will kill you. Whatever war Marlene thinks she’s fighting - it’s not yours to fight - it’s not yours to die for —”

A harsh laugh splits from her throat, and you’re shocked to hear such bitterness pour from the mouth of the little girl you helped to raise. “What the fuck else am I supposed to do? I’ll die anyways, it should be for something, it should be —”

She was too loud. She raised her voice too much. She gave away your position. A shot rings out and the heavy weight of your sister collapsing knocks you to the ground.

You’re lying on the ground with Brandon. Dust chokes the air. Something heavy lies across your legs. You push as hard as you can, but it doesn’t budge. You grunt with the effort, but the thick air fills your lungs and you gag. You blink soot out of your eyes and turn your head to Brandon. He’s so still. Whatever’s lying on your legs is almost completely covering him. A trickle of red spills from down the corner of his mouth. Your lungs are filled with ash, dust, panic, terror. You try to say his name, but your lips can’t move. Brandon, your baby brother. Brandon. Just as you hear the big metal object creak, shifting for the first time, the air clears.

You’re standing in a dark hallway, dilapidated wallpaper peeling into its yellow crest all around you. Sobs and groans echo throughout the dim, and your feet carry you to the doorway. A make-shift hospital bed, a woman lying in it. You creep forward to see her face, to see your mother without her breath and her blood standing still. You reach for her, at the same time scurrying away, as far away as you can get.

You jolt awake with a scream, deep and entrenching. There’s a hard, calloused hand over your mouth in an instant, and you vaguely register that Joel is hissing at you to stay quiet, but you can’t control the wracking of your body, the panic coursing through your veins. You come back to yourself slowly, realizing there’s no blood on your hands, just Joel’s arms around you, just a thrashing heartbeat that threatens to beat you to a pulp. You’re pressed up against his chest in the bed of the truck, Ellie on your other side whispering frantically at you to calm down. It’s still dark out, but you can hear machine gun fire in the distance. You twist your head to look at him, reach out your hand to touch him, need to make sure he won’t disappear too. He’s real and solid, and his eyes glitter with apology in the moonlight. Ellie presses into your other side, arms coming around you in her sweet child’s embrace, and you’re ashamed that she’s had to witness your despair, that she is the one who shoulders your burden. Joel takes his hand off your mouth when he’s sure you won’t make any more sound, but holds you closer still, like he knows what you dreamed and is afraid of the same thing.

You met Joel for the first time when he was asking for directions. A weathered, haunted look in his eye, like he’d rather be doing anything other than asking the girl distributing rations which way around the construction detour to the South End, but a Boston native like yourself couldn’t resist the urge to demonstrate your own knowledge. That’s how you unknowingly wound up leading him straight to Robert’s new basecamp setup, an itch creeping up your spine once you realized what his intentions were. Stupid, you had thought, stupid to think nothing bad could happen in broad daylight, that he was beautiful so he was safe. So stupid.

It was there, when one of Robert’s fucking goons tried to rob the two of you at gunpoint, that Joel realized you had extra rations in your bag, rations that you had stolen from the distribution center — “They’re for my sister,” you protested —and that you had something more to offer him than just the best way to Richmond Street.

You set up a deal of sorts, after he had wiped his hands of your assailant’s blood. You stashed two extra cans per shift in your pack, and brought them to him. In exchange, he kept the gnashing teeth of the city’s smugglers’ off of Brandon’s back, offering your little brother a protection that his FEDRA school never could.

It was through this deal that you met Tess, that you had loved her, too — She took care of things in a way you had always wished you could, but without fucking up, like you did. She was calm, and powerful, and knew she was right, always. Joel looked up to her, too, even if he was too hurt to ever show it.

When she had asked you to come on a special run outside the walls, you were hesitant — several years into your partnership with the smugglers, and you’d only ever been outside of Boston once, to make a drop in Lincoln and get to meet that charming Frank that you’d heard grinning over the radio so many times. It was important, she insisted, a cargo like nothing they’d ever transported. A kid. You said yes, mostly because by this time you didn’t have anyone left to take care of, not the way you longed for, the way you knew how to.

You loved Ellie from the start, loved her spirit, her bite, so much like Katie in her fierce determination, and the ache of remembering didn’t hurt so much as Ellie’s grin helped. You guided her down the road like you knew you were meant to do - to give, to lead, to provide. Tess was more hesitant, but would always answer to Ellie’s curiosity, and always with kindness underneath her brusk.

Joel, of course, didn’t say much. Even after years of handing him can after can of crushed tomatoes, of deliberately brushing up against his fingers just to feel that shock of cool air when he pulled back, he didn’t even say much to you. You knew some things; you knew that he was from Texas, that he had had a brother who used to work with him and Tess, but who left. Who called once but didn’t any more.

You wound up knowing more about Ellie than Joel, strange given the amount of time you had passed with each of them, so much more with Joel, but so much fuller with Ellie. Her secret, her golden Immunity hung its mantle like an axe above each of your throats. It made Joel angry - it made Tess hope. It just made you wonder.

When Tess died, lighting her own pyre to ensure your safety, and Ellie’s and Joel’s, you felt even stronger the pull to shield your traveling companions. Tess was another mark against you, and you wouldn’t let her, or whoever was watching you fuck all these things up, see you fail again. So you tucked Ellie delicately under your wing, and she came willingly, so desperate to be talked to and known. You tried with Joel, too, but your urges competed. He wanted to protect, you wanted to control — you exchanged heated words at the hardest of times, but the journey didn’t stop for your obstinance, so they faded away as the Eastern coastal plains rolled behind you.

—

The End of the World chases you so all you have left to chase is euphoria. It’s some desperation to feel wanted, you know, and you’re sure that he’s just desperate to feel anything at all. That’s how this thing between you started, sparked from argument tinder and nurtured by lonely swollen nightfall.

After all this time, you know he cares about you. You know. He loves you. It’s clear in the way he’ll step in front of you when he perceives a threat, how he always makes sure you and Ellie have taken your first bite before he takes his. He loves the way a leader loves, by leading.

But he doesn’t love you like you loved him, not like when you led him down a Boston street like you knew the world, like when he pushed a bullet from its path to you on that first day, and every second and shattered heartbeat in between.

So you chase this parallel sensation as hard as you can. You chase his fingers, his tongue, his quiet exhales behind trees and in the dark, across a clearing, behind the truck. You try to pretend, however long it takes to find release, that somewhere beneath his rough and his scorn he could feel something for you.

—

Joel pops open a bag of stale, questionable chips and the smell explodes throughout the cab of the truck. He fishes out a few with fingers long and thick and the holds the rest of the bag over to you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at it. You turn your face away and put your hand over your mouth. You think you might vomit again, but Joel’s furrowed brow, his telltale sign of anxiety, appears unbidden in your mind. Nothing’s wrong, really, nothing is, so you hold it in.

You hear him give the bag a little shake. “Hello? Are you gonna take some?”

You manage to look back over at him, but can’t open your mouth lest the scent hits your taste buds. You shake your head mutely.

He frowns. “You have to eat something.”

“Not now,” You wave away, like your insides aren’t churning.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Ellie declares, swooping in to snatch the bag and chomping loudly on her prize.

—

“What is that? Over there?” Ellie sticks her head between the two of you in the front to point over the front dash. There’s a strange movement in the trees, a foreign shape marring the landscape. As you get closer, it comes into view. Two figures sway back and forth amongst the trees.

“Drive,” you breathe. “Keep going.”

“What is it?” Ellie demands, a current of panic running thick through her voice. “What’s—”

“Stop,” Joel says harshly. “Ellie, don’t look.” He presses his foot firmly to the peddle, but he can’t drive anywhere but past them. Bile rises in your throat. You hear him swear softly when the girl clearly refuses, but you can’t make yourself look away, either.

The image burns into your mind long after you’ve passed them, and you’ve crossed state lines, and the sun has set. Two bodies, suspended from rope tied round their necks. One is a young girl, small body, youthful cheeks, hanging dead from a tree. The body next to her is her older carbon copy, it must be her mother. They dangle in the wind.

Ellie finds her voice, however hoarse, sometime later. “We should have stopped.”

Joel grunts. “No time.”

Your mouth is dry. You say nothing.

Ellie sniffs in the backseat, and you can’t help but feel that it’s another mark against you.

You’re so fucking tired of this shit. Every day’s the same, you wake up and think you’re gonna hurl. You smell anything other than clean air and feel the same. You almost can’t remember what it feels like to be not-nauseous, to be free in your body and have it do the things you want it to do.

You just want to feel something good, anything ever again, so you push Joel down in the backseat early one morning while Ellie still sleeps outside and cover his mouth with yours. He don't complain, seemingly content to lie back against the ripped plastic seats and massage the skin at your hips with his thumbs. You sigh into him, convince yourself that this is what it felt like before your body betrayed you, before you couldn’t move without the urge to empty your stomach. His tongue moves with yours, against yours, for yours - you don't know. You push your hips down against him, more for yourself, the rough denim of your jeans pressing wickedly between your legs. He drags a rough hand up under your shirt and tugs aside your flimsy bra, squeezing your breast in his hand.

A sore, tugging pain radiates from where his hand squeezes, and you moan into his mouth. He brings his other hand up and squeezes both of your breasts, harder, rolling the tips between his fingers, and you think you might burst. They feel heavier hanging off of you than they ought to, more burdensome than you recall. The pain builds and builds with your panic as he continues to knead - if you tells him it hurts, he’ll stop. You need him not to stop.

You grab his shoulders to pull him up into a sitting position and untangle yourself from him to turn around. You shuck off your jeans as best as you can in the cramped cabin.

You brace yourself against the window, the dawn light just beginning to filter through the trees. His hand slips down to hold you, wet and wanting, and his teeth scrape the top of your spine. “Good?” He asks, like he somehow always does. You want to say no, not good, so bad, but you’re all that’ll make it better, you’re it, I don’t know what’s wrong, but you’re right, please don’t stop —

You don't trust yourself to look back at him. “Yes,” you breathe.

He lines up with you, sweetly mouthing at the strip of skin your neckline exposes. You try to pretend the pain in your chest is gone when he slides into you from behind. This is how he likes to do it — no faces, as many clothes as possible, as few words. He’ll check that you’re okay, and then silently rush to his finish, blessedly pushing you over the end with him. For once, today, you’re grateful for his preference. This way he can’t see the tears you furiously swipe away.

—

You come across a small market store not far from the Missouri border. It doesn’t take long to scope the area out. There aren’t any people, just like there isn’t much food. Some gum and pre-packaged cakes that make Ellie scrunch her nose in distaste are on a bottom shelf in the back, so you throw them in the bag. It’s not much, but you’ve only got crackers and a few cans left in the truck. You’re not so much able to refuse anything. The thought of eating the cakes sends your stomach for a spiral, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. Not here. Not now.

Ellie notices, of course. “Woah… are you okay?”

You force your eyes open and give her a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. Just dizzy. Let’s get going.”

Right as you’re about to leave, another truck screeches out of the trees and into the parking lot. The headlights shine through the glass door straight into your eyes. Joel sucks in a breath. The truck pulls to a stop not far from yours and four men get out, all covering their faces, one with a machine gun pointed towards the sky.

“Fuck,” you whisper, Joel grabbing your arm and whisking you to the back before you finish speaking. Ellie’s already crouched down behind an empty shelf, her lips set in grim determination but her grip on her pack shaking.

Joel taps you to get your attention, jerking his head towards a back door. He moves slowly, gesturing for you and Ellie to follow. The shift of his jeans and the crack of his knees make your heart beat even faster. The bell above the door rings and heavy footsteps follow into the space. The three of you freeze, and through the gaps in the metal shelving, you see them.

Tall, brutish. All four armed, and deadly. Their neanderthal brays pierce your eardrums.

“Who’s here?” Calls one while the others cackle and titter. Right, the truck. They would have seen it.

“Come out, come out…” One of them jokes, knocking over a display by the door with unnecessary grandiose.

Ellie clutches onto your sleeve, her wide eyes begging you for an answer. Joel’s the one that gives it to her. He points at you and Ellie, then down at the ground. You stay. He points to himself as he pulls his rifle around his front, then over to where the mean are kicking around the front counter. I go. He locks eyes with you and nods his head to Ellie, then the back door. Get her out of here.

You nod, a calm determination washing over you, dampening your racing heart. You grasp Ellie’s hand in your own and count silently in your head as he sneaks towards the Raiders on bended knee, though you’re not sure what for. He starts to lift his gun, your signal to pounce on the back door, when suddenly a tidal wave of nausea pours over you, dousing you from head to toe, swirling your insides and turning the room upside down. You don’t stand when you’re supposed to, not when there’s shouting and gunshots and Ellie yelling and tugging you towards the exit. It’s hard to see, it’s hard to breathe. All you can feel is the acid rising to your lips.

The three of you barely make it out alive.

He slams his foot on the gas petal and the tires screech as you careen out of the parking lot. You stay turned around watching the world disappear behind you, ignoring Ellie’s eyes that bounce between your face and the trail of dust you leave behind. You fly down the road, faster than he’s dared to go before. After several miles, you let yourself collapse back into your seat, facing the front. You let out a breath, trying to focus on a single point on the dashboard in front of you, trying to quell the dizziness, this sensation that the world is spinning off of its axis.

“I don’t think they’re following us,” Ellie supplies. She’s quiet for a minute, then adds, “they won’t, right?”

Joel don't reply. You chance a glance over at him to find him fuming, his jaw locked in place and his eyes glued to the road. His arms bulge like they do when he’s tensed up and not even realized it. His grip on the steering wheel threatens to snap the plastic.

His ire fans the flames of your own. Something wild in you pushes you forward, nudges you to ruffle the lion’s mane, some alien urge that you’ve no name for. “Think we’ve got bigger fish to fry in the car with us,” you mutter.

You can hear his jaw pop. “Oh, like a delinquent that can’t stand on her own two feet?” You flinch like you’ve been stung. You want to sting him, too. “What, you’re just gonna pass out every time we’re in a life-or-death situation?”

“I didn’t pass out,” you snap. “I just got dizzy. It wasn’t a big deal, you asshole.”

“Until it was,” he seethes, still careening down the road. “Until you had to run, with her, and you couldn’t fuckin’ see straight. You didn’t think to say something beforehand?”

“What would you have done differently, then?” You hiss, suddenly overwhelmed, not ready to be on guard again so soon. He’s saying things that make sense. You’re losing. Again. “Asked them nicely to leave us alone?”

“Might’a left you in the truck, might’a had a different plan if I knew the person I was relying on was gonna choke, fucking Christ —”

Your heart clenches at the word rely so you scoff to hide it. “Fuck off.” What if he hadn’t been able to take them down, to get you all out of there? What if you had cost Ellie her life? You’re raising your voice and you know that won’t help anything, but your vision is still swimming and adrenaline is still coursing through you and you don't know what else to do with that combination.

“I will not!” Joel’s shouting, and you start. He’s never shouted at you, not once, not even on that first trip to Lincoln when you almost got caught sneaking back into the QZ, not even when you survived and Tess didn’t, not even when you made him give himself to you over and over. His foot is letting up off the gas petal and the truck slows down, like he knows if he puts his foot down the way he wants he won’t be able to stop and he’ll drive you all off the edge of the world. “You got sick a few weeks back, too. What, you got bit or somethin’ too? Think I’m worth tellin’ about an aneurysm, a heart attack—”

“It’s only sometimes,” You snap, shaking with rage or sickness, you don't know. “I’ll be fine in thirty fucking minutes. It keeps happening.”

His foot is on the brake, a sudden screech against the road as the truck skids to a stop. You jerk back in your seat. “What the fuck, Joel?” Ellie exclaims.

“What are you doing?” You hiss. “We need to get further away—"

He stares straight ahead at the road, chest heaving, face impassible. “How long?” He breathes.

You glares. “How long what?”

“How long has it been goin’ on?”

“I don’t fucking know, Joel, a couple weeks? I—”

He doesn’t listen to the rest of your sentence. He’s out of the truck, slamming the door behind him before you can blink.

You glance back at Ellie, who looks deeply uncomfortable, and sigh. “Gimme a second.”

You unbuckle and follow him outside, a few yards into the treeline, urging your shaky legs onward. “Joel, get back in the fucking truck, this is insane —”

“You won’t eat.” His interruption is pained as he stops in his tracks, face pointedly looking out at the trees, not at you, not at you. “You’re not eatin’. And there’s the nausea, then soreness, dizziness -"

“What’s your fucking point?”

He takes a moment to respond, jaw working itself to bits. When he finally turns to look at you, you realize his expression isn’t as stoic as you thought. “When did you have your last period?”

Your heart stops beating in your chest. You sneer to hide it.

“Girls who don’t eat don’t get their period, dumbass-”

“When?” He demands.

Your veins are full of icy frost, not blood, blood would move and cycle and make you feel alive, this just makes you feel still, frozen, gone. You close your eyes. “I - I don’t - I don’t know. I don’t know. But it hasn’t come, for a while. It hasn’t come.”

After a moment of silence you hear the sound of Joel moving back to the truck, closing his door more gently behind him this time. You don’t remember your ghost feet floating back to your side, not wanting to find out what would happen if you kept him waiting too long. Your fingers shake as you buckle back in. Ellie, for maybe the first time since you’ve met her, doesn’t say a word. The world begins to move forward again. You grip the door next to you so tightly you think your fingers might fall off. You don’t remember falling asleep like that, but when you do it’s a sweet, welcome relief.

—

When you wake up, it’s dark out, but the road outside is wider than you expected it to be, having stayed mostly on backroads and service paths. The only light comes from the truck’s headlights and the moon shining up above.

“Where are we?” You murmur, stretching out the aching muscles of your back. Ellie seems to have joined you in slumber, slumped awkwardly against the door behind you.

Joel’s hand slides over the top of the steering wheel. “Nearby Kansas City,” he offers.

You become more clearly awake at this. “The QZ? Why do you wanna head so close to it?”

He rubs the steering wheel again, drawing from it some kind of power to speak. “Figure we stash the truck somewhere, enroll at the gate as refugees. Get what we need, get out.”

“What we need?” You’re still confused.

“A doctor,” he says. “It’s nearby and you need a doctor. So.”

You’re at a loss. You can’t keep up with the implications, with the unspoken, terrifying truth of the question he’s asking you, he’s been asking you. You open your mouth, but the sounds are weak to your own ears. “But — it’ll take too — Wyoming, we have to — and Ellie — and Tommy —”

“We’ll get to Wyoming,” he promises. “First we check on you.”

Something bubbles up in your chest and you shift in your seat, too afraid to ask but too afraid to not know. “Are you angry?” You venture, keeping your eyes on what little of the road you can see in front of you.

You can see him puff air through his lips from the corner of your vision. “I do generally like to know about things before they became an immediate issue, so next time —”

“No,” You say too quickly, and he stops, looking over at you. “I mean, were you mad about - you know, if I am” — you choke on your own spit, can’t bring yourself to say the word — “If I am, are you angry with me?”

Your voice sounds too small to your own ears, this isn’t the You you know, but you don't remember how to be that girl anyways, don't remember how to survive without him. If he’s not with you, and if what he thinks is happening is happening, this could be it for you, this could be his final straw, too much baggage, not giving enough, not —

“You, what? Listen, no, I don’t —” He takes his foot off the gas. The truck slowly but surely rolls to a stop, so starkly contrasting the abruptness of its earlier halt. He shifts the car to park, not even bothering to pull off the road like he usually does when you stop for the night. You can feel him looking at you but you can’t bring yourself to look back.

You sit like that in the quiet for a minute before he speaks. “I’m afraid,” he confesses to you like he worries the night sky will hear his secret. “I’m afraid and I’m sorry that I made you think I was angry. I’m not angry. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong. You understand? Nothin’."

You don't realize you’ve begun to cry until his arms are reaching over the center console to pull you into his lap. A mess of limbs and you find yourself between his solid frame and the steering wheel, his arms holding you like they do when you sleep, but this feels different, this feels tighter, this feels dangerously close to touching the reason you shake, the reason you burrow yourself into him at night.

“We’ll be alright,” he promises so fiercely it startles your eyes dry. “You’ll be alright. I promise.”

It’s late at night in the QZ a few years earlier, dim street light beaming through the dusty window. You sit with your back against the rotting drywall, Joel with his against the couch. You’re waiting for Tess to get back with a drop from a new partner, something she said felt “promising,” but that she wanted to handle with caution. The two of you would always listen to her, so you’ve stayed behind, but you’ll also always worry for her, so you stay awake into the early hours of the morning just to see the promise of her wellbeing slip through the doorway.

You’re picking at your fingernails, something Katie would always turn her nose up at you for, “makes ‘em look ugly,’ she’d say, but everything’s ugly here so you might as well match. Katie’s on your mind just as much as Tess - she’s been gone from your shared residence more often since Brandon died, you think she can’t stand to see the hallways you once all ran through together as children. You worry for her, too. Her great love for a woman named Marlene and ceaseless ardor for Marlene’s cause put her in more danger everyday. She’d do anything for the Fireflies, plant any bomb. Maybe even the one the killed Brandon. Neither of you are sure, and you definitely never talk about it.

“Will you quit?” Joel’s gruff voice startles you out of your spiraling reverie, and you realize blood has started to seep from around some of your cuticles. “Fuckin’ — fidgeting’s makin’ me nervous.”

“Sorry,” you say, not really meaning it but feeling sheepish nonetheless. Joel intimidates you; he’s quiet, and strong, and definitely beautiful, and maybe knows something about life, maybe too much about life, maybe that’s why he’s so dour all the time. However, sitting here on the floor, waiting for your shared comrade’s return, you feel emboldened or delirious from the witching hour. You open your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Didn’t know you got nervous.”

He scoffs abruptly, a sound you might almost have called a laugh in another life, and runs his fingers over his mouth absentmindedly. The streetlamp glow slants across his cheekbones just so, and in this dilapidated, peeling living room, he looks almost otherworldly. “‘M always nervous.”

He doesn’t say anything more, settling back into his friend The Silence, and you don’t believe him. He doesn’t look nervous, doesn’t pluck at his own feathers like you or move to fill the time.

“About Tess?” You venture, high off of his conversation, elated at his breath expelled in your direction. It feels like something, it feels like anything, and you’ve been dying - Katie’s never around anymore, the other girls at the food bank are even more dried up and sullen than you, and Tess, beautiful Tess with her clever wit and grounding roots isn’t here - you need more.

Joel casts you a sidelong glance. You suddenly wonder if you remembered to run your fingers through your hair this morning. It surely looks a mess. You go back to picking at your nails. The blood feels warm and soothing. “Yeah,” he acquiesces, eyebrows raising slightly. “But she can handle herself.”

Your heart races. “I know! I didn’t mean to say she couldn’t. I just —”

He holds up a hand to quell your ramble, and you crumble to his command. “I know. We still worry.”

You exhale long, arduous. “Yeah,” you agree softly.

He taps his finger on his knees, joins you in your fidgeting realm, his feathers pluck, his callous peels. “Don’t you got someone waitin’ for you?” He says suddenly, and you know he knows these things about you, but it’s a shock to hear him acknowledge it.

“My sister. And no. She doesn’t come home much these days. ‘Sides, I’d rather be here anyways.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “What’s she doin’ away at this hour? Isn’t she younger?”

The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and for a moment, your hackles raise. “She’s a grown woman. That’s her business, not mine.” As if it’s your fault that she’s joined up with a vigilante guerilla. As if it’s your fault that you don’t know where she sleeps these days, or if she gets enough to eat besides the times she comes to pick up the extra cans you still steal her. She is younger than you, he’s right, and you tried to provide, tried to take care of her the way your mother had tried to before she passed, before the outbreak, even. You were only 8 when the world ended, and your mother had died just a few years later. The only thing that had kept you and Katie out of military school was the older woman across the way who lied and said she was watchin’ over you. It hadn’t worked for Brandon, though. He was too young for anyone to care for, and was rocked right into the deadly cradle of FEDRA.

Joel pauses for a second, quietly contemplative, before nodding. “Suppose you’re right.”

Your breath drops back down into your stomach. If there’s anything you and Joel Miller would ever shake on, it would be leaving others to mind their own.

You wonder what his life must have been like before. What sorrow left him this way, bewildered and cold and fortified as the QZ itself.

“When did Tess say she was getting back again?” You say to fill the space, to fan the coals of a conversation long dwindled.

“Said she wasn’t sure.” He’s annoyed, you can tell. “Said it could take the whole night, or longer. Were you even listenin’?”

You purse your lips, and the apology slips from you without your own permission. A longing to stand your ground far outrun by the desperation for his voice, for his grave countenance continued. “Sorry. I don’t remember things like I’m supposed to.”

Your voice catches in your throat at the last few words, and you have to look away from him, have to blink a little faster than perhaps is natural. You’re not just talking about Tess’s debrief, you know.

You don’t expect it when he replies. “I remember it all.” A quiet confession to the night draft through the pane, shaking the dust on the counter. You look back to him, eyes wide, and his tongue peeks out to wet his cracked lips. It’s like he knows, he knows what you meant, and he can see right through you and this flimsy excuse for skin you wear, this flimsy excuse of a girl you are. He sees you, and you feel like the recipient of a crown jewel, a treasure held close to your heart for this little bit of him that he’s allowed through, this morsel of self that’s scrapped so haggardly to his surface.

His eyes lock with yours, his face set suddenly with a grim determination. “Listen, she’ll be alright. We all will. I mean it.”

You nod, his earnestness permeating your jellyfish shroud, spineless, maybe he could prop you up. Maybe he’s doing it now. You turn back to your nail beds to shred until the early morning sun brings Tess home with it.

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfictioin #joel miller #joel x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou

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suiana · 1 year

Note

hihi!! yr posts are so funky i love them sm

ya have any ideas for a yandere that has no actual connection - like, you've never even seen them before and yet it's stuff like "i didn't leave that book open" - "where did my favorite shirt go" - "i just woke up why am i so sticky" rjfjfhjf

omgee I've actually been thinking about this lately HAHA,, thank u anon for giving me motivation to write this <3

✎ yandere! stalker headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― stalking, nsfw, obsessiveness, slight violence, delusional yandere etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! stalker who is absolutely obsessed with you. you don't even know him yet his whole life is dedicated to you! how romantic <3

✎ yandere! stalker who has completely memorized your schedule and everything about you. he swears that he can answer any question about you :) no one knows you better than him, not even yourself!

✎ yandere! stalker who doesn't even remember when or where his obsession for you started from. babe, you never even talked to him before! so how did he fall so deeply for you? truly a mystery...

✎ yandere! stalker who gives you plenty of gifts. you could wake up with a random box of chocolates or with your laundry done! though a shirt or two might be missing! truly a pleasant surprise, no? your stalker hopes you like his gifts! :)

✎ yandere! stalker who has so many pictures of you that it's insane. what the fuck, how does he even get these??

✎ yandere! stalker who protects you from dirty people. that weird associate who made you uncomfortable? he suddenly went missing! that old uncle who was staring at you in a nasty way? brutally beaten up in a dark alleyway! don't worry your pretty little head darling, your stalker is there to protect you ♡

✎ yandere! stalker who masterbates to the thought of you every night. god you're perfect! he wishes you would notice him :( but he supposed that you not noticing is for the better... for now.

✎ yandere! stalker who is rich and likes spending his fortune on you. your phone is slightly chipped? get ready to wake up with a brand new phone on your desk :) oh, how he loves watching your cute reactions through the teddy bear he once gifted to you <3

✎ yandere! stalker who starts to grow bolder once you've warmed up to his gifts. oh? so you like his gifts? that means you like him now right? stalker, babe, that's not how it works that means he can start getting more personal with you right?

✎ yandere! stalker who starts to touch you in your sleep. your reciprocation towards his gifts is a sign that you're okay with this right? right?!

✎ yandere! stalker who is hysterical when he sees you talking to you friends about how you hate waking up slimy in the morning. what do you mean you hate his gift to you?! do you hate him now?!

✎ yandere! stalker who gifts you multiple things to try and apologize. you must be mad at him! you surely must be! even if you don't know who he is, your complaints about being sticky is a subtle sign of your anger towards him! he can't have his reason of living being mad now, can he?

✎ yandere! stalker who impulsively kidnaps you once you decide to make a police report. no! he can't lose you to those scummy officers!

✎ yandere! stalker who knocks you out so hard that you lose your memories. and when you wake up he tells you that he's your husband. a manic grin adorning his features as he does so. this must god's way of giving him a second chance! honey... no!!

✎ yandere! stalker who would change anything about himself for you. he exists for you only. anything he does is for you. he is yours to control. he should be anything and everything you want. so please, tell him what you like! he'll do anything in his power to achieve it. even if it means dying for you.

✎ "haah~ I love you so much ♡"

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere blog #yandere hcs #yandere headcanons #yandere drabble #yandere drabbles #yandere stalker #yandere stalker headcanons #yandere stalker x reader

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neyslover · 1 year

Note

HI! PLEASE DO ONE WHERE Y/N IS NOT DATING NEYMAR YET, BUT HE ALREADY HAS HIS LOCK SCREEN AS A PICTURE OF THEM IT WOULD BE SO CUTE

OOH THIS IS SO CUTEEEEE!! hope u enjoyyyy :))

although neymar’s ankle wasn’t fully healed, he was able to attend todays match.

it was brazil vs cameroon.

he went out on the pitch before the game started and played with the ball for a bit.

there were already a million cameras on him, and a couple of them were able to catch his lock screen.

it was a picture of me.

my phone started blowing up, mainly from my best friend, val.

val: BITCH?!?)!3!:!$ UR HIS LOCKSCREEN WTF?!?!!!!!

you: IKKLKKKLLKSJWHDJA

val: SO U TWO ARE DATING??? AND U DIDNT TELL ME??? OH OKAY.

you: I SWEAR TO U WE ARENT IDK WHY IM HIS LOCKSCREEN BUT LOWKEY NOT COMPLAINING

val: i swear to god y/n if u don’t bag that man I WILL.

you: bitch back off. i have to go he’s coming rn djsjdjsi

“hey.” he sat down next to me, “they forced me to go.”

“were you planning on playing with them?” i laughed.

“no.” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

i gave him a look that told him to spill.

“okay i thought that if they saw that i could play and that my ankle is fine they would let me play.”

“even though your ankle isn’t fine?”

“not all of them know that!” he defended making me laugh.

“i like your lock screen, by the way.” i smirked.

“you do?”

i hummed in response.

“i just made it the most beautiful, caring, loving, and kindest woman to exist. needed that extra motivation to be like her. y’know?”

“yea, i get it.” i nodded, “i did the same a while back too.” i showed him my lock screen which was a picture of me and him.

#football #football imagine #football one shot #futbol #neymar #neymar jr #neymar imagines #neymar junior #neymar x reader #neyslover #soccer imagine #soccer

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agendabymooner · 9 months

Text

stop the world i wanna get off with you ! kimi r. x ofc (coppola!ofc)

“with the exception of you, i dislike everyone in the room.”

summary: vera jones ‘coppa’ coppola-raikkonen happens to be one of the three original it girls of formula one. funnily enough, she’s also the one to give birth to the loudest/messiest versions of the iceman as she continues her journey as a mother and a wife (all while she’s a director of the most iconic movies to have existed).

content warning: fictional raikkonen kids, mentions of breakups, mentions of tilly hearth and trish alonso (ofc) use of explicit language, family banters in social media

note: i know i have the most random selection of drivers on my masterlist but i swear i’m just tryna indulge in my lil bubble of happiness.

masterlist

tagged romaraikkonen, kimimatiasraikkonen

liked by arthurleclerc, olliebearman, charles_leclerc

user1 icegirl on fire as always 🧊🔥

user2 real hot girl shit of you roma 😩

arthurleclerc aroma, you’re supporting the wrong leclerc 😀 liked by veracopparaikko

romaraikkonen i can tell you that my shirts are nothing of an inchident. trust. liked by veracopparaikko

charles_leclerc i cannot believe i am being picked on by my favourite icegirl 😠

romaraikkonen hardly picking on you when i got ur name and face on my shirts??? smh i didn’t ask mum to get them for me to get called a h8r

rooraikkonen cool story maniac, can you run over jolauriraikkonen next?

romaraikkonen i’ll start with you first then i go target johann next, yes?

jolauriraikkonen what did i do??? i didn’t leave your pc plugged in, akka rooraikkonen witch

veracopparaikko kimimatiasraikkonen your kids are at it again, kimi.

kimimatiasraikkonen not my problem

veracopparaikko 😠

jolauriraikkonen it’s okie mum i’ll make sure dad sleeps on the couch tonight 😉

jolauriraikkonen dad did say 3 sprint races win = i get to go to the next three races too 😍 thank you for the team effort romaraikkonen liked by veracopparaikko

romaraikkonen omagaaaaa these are officially the worst races ever

ferraridriveracademy how are we going to put you two together in one room then?

romaraikkonen don’t.

jolauriraikkonen i’m gonna sob, this is a w for me

romaraikkonen what are you even doing up??? aren’t u like 14?

veracopparaikko question is: why are you even on your instagram? 🤨

jolauriraikkonen oh so when dad does it, it’s okay? he has to get up early too you know???

kimimatiasraikkonen please don’t involve me in this

user3 we love an unproblematic king 😭😭

user4 why are these kids so funny 🥲

kimimatiasraikkonen so proud of my girl 🧊❤️ liked by veracopparaikko

romaraikkonen like father like daughter 😉❤️🤝

tagged rooraikkonen, kimimatiasraikkonen

liked by landonorris, tillywolff, valterribottas

jolauriraikkonen 1/10. she looked more like the bottom of beetlejuice’s foot than the lady herself.

user1 naw johann-lauri got kimi’s humour for sure

rooraikkonen i’m gonna crash to your kart next time and you’re going to be crying to dad and dad will literally just laugh at you

kimimatiasraikkonen no, i won’t.

user2 LMFAO KIMI PLEASE

jolauriraikkonen hahahahahahaha cry

kimimatiasraikkonen second time this day, johann. next time i’m taking the switch. liked by veracopparaikko

user3 ruh-roh raikkonen is at it

jolauriraikkonen my bad g 🤝

kimimatiasraikkonen all good g 🤝

user4 a proof that johann is kimi-coded ^^

rooraikkonen thank you sooooo much mummy !!! i thought i was going to cry for a minute then i realized how much of a baddie my mummy-producer-writer-director is 😭😩 liked by veracopparaikko

veracopparaikko you fluster me, rooney tunes! ❤️

kimimatiasraikkonen your performance is very good, rooroo! henrik and betty were excited to see you on stage 😍 liked by veracopparaikko

rooraikkonen dad, betty-elina can barely hear from that headphones we got her.

rooraikkonen though i could hear henrik’s screaming during the intermission. 😂

rooraikkonen thank you daddy !! i’m glad i’m making the iceman proud 🧊💕 liked by veracopparaikko

tagged kimimatiasraikkonen, jolaurisraikkonen

liked by arthurleclerc, olliebearman, fernandoalo_oficial

jolauriraikkonen y’all cannot one up my mother because her resume is long as heck. she’s: mother, director, writer, actor, producer, photographer 😎 liked by veracopparaikko

jolauriraikkonen look at me and the boys though 😎

user1 you’re the coolest brother ever

rooraikkonen bc he’s the only brother henrik got 😂😂😂

user2 iceman and his iceboys and his ice cream

user3 too cold in here lads 🥶

romaraikkonen look at my cool lil man and dad 😍 oh and johann liked by veracopparaikko

jolauriraikkonen count ur days bestie

user4 where did the american-italian look go, vera?? 😭

rooraikkonen speaking on behalf of mum. the coppola genes had gone away as soon as romania came out, but uncle nicolas cage definitely did not leave

user4 subtle flex but okay pop off bestie 🔥

kimimatiasraikkonen such handsome boys liked by veracopparaikko

veracopparaikko i agree

romaraikkonen so do i

rooraikkonen me too

jolauriraikkonen i agree too

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hannie-dul-set · 4 months

Text

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table.

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true.

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit.

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—”

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.”

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that?

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger?

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no.

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education.

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!”

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?”

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already.

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders.

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles.

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!”

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead.

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

#txt x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x you #choi beomgyu x you #choi yeonjun x you #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt scenarios

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