#and i say to myself that whatever happens during the race i should be happy that my fav esports team wins another title this year

[gxtzeizm]

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[ellecdc]

HEY POOKIE!!!!

Could I request a fic with either poly moon water or poly marauders where reader has had mental health issues but they were getting better and then they slip back into them. This happens to me in moments and I have to remind myself that it’s part of my progress but it would be so nice if I had someone else to say it too. No pressure lovely!!!!

I ADORE all of your marauders work!! Like OML I never know how much I needed poly moonwater until youuuu❤️❤️❤️😘

hi babes! totally get where you're coming from re: mental health issues. It's a marathon, not a race. and I'm so glad you love moonwater! my evil plan of converting the entire fandom (lol) is succeeding. I opted to go with the marauders but it's quite sirius centric

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is struggling with her mental health

CW: non-sexual nudity [nothing is described], discussion of dark mental headspace and anxiety/depression [again, nothing is described]

You felt awful.

You knew the boys would be understanding, but it didn’t make you feel any better about your behaviour.

You’d found yourself slipping back into familiar and darker headspaces as of late, and though you couldn’t deny the disconcerting comfort that familiarity brought, you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to fully fall back into it; you worked so hard to move beyond this, and you had been doing so well.

It hurt worse now that you felt like you weren’t just disappointing yourself anymore, but also disappointing three other people who - for whatever reason - cared an awful lot about you.  

You’d been inching closer and closer to a panic all day and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed when you got home and pretend the world didn’t exist for a few hours days weeks. 

Those kinds of plans don’t work when you live with three other people, two of which have the tendency to coddle you.

You knew that irritability was one of the symptoms of your anxiety, but knowing that didn’t stop the sting of your words as they left your lips. 

James was too nice, too bright, too happy, too lovely. You felt like the polar opposite of your sweetest boyfriend, which made you feel even more disappointing than you already had. And Remus was a fixer; he had a tendency to see a problem and immediately start problem solving, but that’s not what you needed right now.

Of course, you didn’t say that.

Of course, you got angry and lashed out at them before storming off to your room and slamming the door.

What started off as feeling blue quickly spiralled into a low affect. Feeling low left you increasingly anxious. Your anxiety left you feeling disappointing and less than, which caused you to feel depressed. The more depressed you got, the more anxious you became. The more anxious you became, the more depressed you felt.

It was a vicious cycle and you were stuck in its seemingly never ending assault on you.

And now, you weren’t just depressed and anxious; you were also feeling terribly guilty and overwhelmed at the thought of having upset Remus and James. 

Remus, who only wanted to help, who only wanted you to feel better, who only wanted to care for you. 

And James, who only wanted to perhaps share a little bit of his joy with you on the off chance it could brighten your day.

You were awful.

Horrid.

You didn’t deserve them, and they didn’t deserve you - they deserved better. You deserved nothing.

You’re not sure how long you had been standing under the spray of the water with your head against the cool tile when you heard a gentle knock against the glass of the shower door.

You felt the irritability surge in your blood again at the intrusion of your pity party, but tried your hardest to take a steadying breath before you hummed a quiet “yeah?”

“Can I come in?” You heard Sirius’ voice ask from the other side, apparently having gotten home sometime during your meltdown.

He could, though you weren’t sure he should.

You were terrible after all.

Horrid. 

The glass door popped open and Sirius shoved his face in. You didn’t bother turning your face towards him but you could feel the questions permeating his being nonetheless.

“I’m coming in.��� He announced, deciding on your behalf. 

You heard the sound of his clothes falling to the bathroom floor, and you knew if Remus were in here he’d be scolding him: “there’s a hamper right there, Sirius.” 

But Remus wasn’t here because you were awful and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the sodding hamper nor Sirius’ clothes littering the floor.

Some of your steam escaped as Sirius opened the shower door fully and you were accosted with cool air that left your body covered in goosebumps. He corrected it quickly by standing under the spray with you and pushing his front up against your back, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“Fuck, you take hot showers.” He commented.

Usually you’d laugh.

“Sorry.” You said instead.

He rubbed at your hips where his hands had fallen with his thumbs, eliciting another layer of goosebumps on your skin. 

“You’re not feeling too good, are you baby?” He asked quietly.

You let out an exhausted breath. “I don’t feel good; I’m no good.” You responded just as quietly.

Sirius ducked his chin down to kiss your shoulder before quickly replacing it.

“That’s not true.”

You didn’t respond, glad that the water streaming over your face hid the evidence of the tears escaping your eyes.

Wordlessly, Sirius pulled away and grabbed your shampoo, working it into your hair. You did nothing to help him in his task, keeping your head pressed against the shower wall as he lathered the soap on your scalp. He pulled the handheld down to rinse it out, paying special attention to point the spray away from your face since you didn’t seem too fussed over protecting your own eyes. He combed some conditioner through your hair and rinsed it out in much the same manner before grabbing a loofa and lathering body wash over your form.

“Sometimes it’s two steps forward and one step back.” He commented, finally breaking the silence that had long been only the sound of the water falling and each of your breaths. “But that still means you’re one step forward.”

A sob escaped you, causing Sirius to pause in his ministrations and pull you back into his chest again.

He didn’t say anything else; he knew better. Of course he would, Sirius sometimes understood this side of you better than the others did. Sirius had a tendency to fall into darker times too, also having a penchant for lashing out at those closest to him when things felt like too much.

He let you cry, standing under the likely too-hot-for-his-tastes water, as he rocked you back and forth with your head leaned back, resting on his shoulder as you faced toward the ceiling. 

“Do they hate me?” You whimpered eventually, trying to convince your lungs to take in slower, deeper breaths.

“Of course they don’t; you know they don’t.”

“Are they mad at me?”

You could feel Sirius shake his head, but he answered you verbally anyway.

“No, doll. They worry, is all.”

You didn’t like that. You didn’t want them to worry. “I’m fine.”

“I know you are.” He agreed readily. “They do too.”

You let that sit in the foggy air for a little bit.

“Do you know that?” He asked eventually.

“Know what?”

“That you’re okay? That you’re just fine?”

You thought about that for a moment. You were sad, and you were anxious, but were you fine?

You admitted to yourself you felt the familiar tendrils of your darker self pulling at you, but you could also admit it was different this time. You were better, you had been working hard, and most importantly, that hard work was paying off.

You may have been two steps forward and one step back, but you were still one step forward from where you started.

“You’re sure they’re not mad at me?” You asked instead, earning you a chuckle as Sirius turned you in his arms to hold your face between his hands. 

“No one is mad at you, love. I swear it. You are, however, very loved.”

You offered him the best smile you could muster and let him pull you forward for a chaste kiss. 

“Then… yes, I know I’m fine.” You agreed eventually, earning you a beaming smile from your boyfriend.

“Atta girl.” 

Your felt your cheeks heat up at the praise and pushed your forehead into his chest.

“Can we get out of this torture chamber, now? I swear this water is being heated by hellfire.” He joked, leaning around you to turn off the shower without your consent.

“It’s really not that bad.” You argued, earning you a scoff.

“I’m red, doll. The water has marred my skin, perhaps permanently.”

You continued arguing about proper shower etiquette as you rubbed lotion into your skin (and then into Sirius’ for his troubles [he really was sort of red]), and changed into your comfies.

You headed towards the living room before you remembered you were sort of ashamed with yourself for the way you had spoken to the other two boys, but Sirius didn’t allow you to hesitate in the hall as he caught your elbow when your steps faltered and ushered you into the room.

“Boys, we’re really going to have to do something about her shower habits.” He commented as if a) nothing had happened, and b) you weren’t even there. “I’m surprised she hasn’t completely melted her skin off." 

“Perhaps hot showers are how she gets so beautiful, Sirius, ever think about that?” James jested back, earning him an indignant scoff.

“Are you saying I’m not pretty, Jamie?”

“As pretty as Y/N?” Remus interjected, looking between the two of you as if assessing. “No, not at all.” 

“Well I-” Sirius began, but you interrupted.

“I’m sorry.”

Everyone’s shoulders fell as they turned to look at you, clearly willing to brush over the tension if that had been what you wanted.

“I was rude and irritable when I got home, and neither of you deserved that. I’m sorry.”

“Angel…” James started, opening his arms for you which you readily accepted and tucked yourself into his chest.

“I was never mad to begin with, but I’ll go ahead and forgive you right now if that’ll make you feel better, okay?” He murmured into your wet hair.

“Okay. Thank you.” You murmured back.

“You’re too sweet for us, dove.” Remus commented, moving to place a consoling hand on your back.

“I was the opposite of that earlier.” You chuckled at your own expense. 

“Please.” Sirius scoffed derisively. “These two are too nice, especially when you feel like shit; I’ve given them a far harder time than you have, dollface.” 

“It’s true.” James said quickly. “He once told me he’d rather have a cup of tea with his mother than snuggle with me when he was in one of his moods once.”

You gasped and looked at Sirius in horror. “You did not.”

Sirius, not at all guilty, shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure did, and I meant it too.”

“Oh come off it.” Remus chided, pulling Sirius into his side who broke out in a grin, effectively eliminating his earnest facade. 

“No, of course I didn’t mean it.” He relented, leaning further into Remus’ side. 

“I don’t like myself very much when I’m like this.” You admitted quietly.

“We’ll love you enough for all of us in the meantime then, yeah?” James asked, pulling you into his arms tighter.

“Just be patient with yourself dove, you’re much too hard on yourself. We’re here now and we’ll be here when you feel better too.” Remus added.

“Can’t get rid of us that easily, dollface.” Sirius concluded, shooting you a wink.

Two steps forward and one step back.

But you were still one step forward.

You knew you would make two more steps forward again soon.

[halcyon-digest]

2016

Art Klaudt: The Facebook group "Big Gucci Gang"

Anonymous 1: autism diagnosis

ava: got sent to a PHP for a few months due to undiagnosed-autism-fueled school avoidance. the bus ride was long and scenic, the other kids were cool and interesting, and crucially, i had no homework, so the place became a bit of a safe haven for me. but the best part about it was getting into david bowie. he had died very recently so i thought it about time. i spent every bus ride there and back sitting alone staring out the window and listening to his discography in order, one album at a time, until i’d made it through all 26 or whatever the number is. those bus rides are some of the happiest and most fulfilling and inspiring memories i have. it changed my whole understanding of the world and myself.

kate: The day after Trump was elected I went to the gym even though I was a little scared to. And yeah there was a guy in a MAGA shirt there. Probably more people as well who were Trump supporters, considering it was Texas. But nothing really happened. I had started working out during a summer internship where everyone I was rooming with would go to the gym together after work, and kept up the habit after I finished it. I was thinking, my body is the only thing I really have any control over. And I bet it's capable of things I've never really even tried. So I would work out just to feel in control of something when it seemed like the whole world had gone insane.

Anonymous 2: the girl i had spent most of my time in high school in a difficult / tumultuous friendship with pulling me behind a pillar in the hallway to show me the scars on her thighs under her dress. probably the most sincere intimacy i had been shown at that point in my life & it made my heart race

Lucas: I remember watching political yt content, extra anti she type, and it was more prevalent because the election

Anonymous 3: I don't particularly recall anything from this year apart from the banality of political news upsetting me.

Anonymous 4: My first soccer season ever

Anonymous 5: A decision made on a sunny day

superswag: Trump anaguration

v0w0v: The formation of the high school band. It started in a classroom setting, and was kept alive by friendship and ambition. My friend would write the chord progressions and I would write the lyrics and melody. It was so easy. It was so fun. It felt like anything was possible.

Anonymous 6: Listening to Motor Away while riding in a car across the Colorado Desert

Anonymous 7: my ocd arriving.

binnie: Definitely very hard to choose but since some of the others have been picked already, I'll say my introduction internet voice chat. Talking to friends online for hours at a time, staying up late to talk to friends, joining the skype chat you posted to tumblr... Mumble and skype definitely the both of them

Anonymous 8: Becoming more open and making new friends that would make me more confident

April M. Mildew: I am sitting in the green chair at my dad's place, owned by the great grandparents living in a nursing home, and I am talking to my first close friends on Kik. They were significantly older than me. While I wait for the next message I am drawing something on the free version of the app Artstudio on my iphone. It is a picture of my fursona. He is a grey wolf wearing a grey hoodie and standing in front of a peeling false happy backdrop with brick walls and smog poking out from behind it. It is very much an image drawn by a 12 year old. I tried to run away from home this year, that should probably be the more significant memory.

[selenasgcmezz]

That's just the way of the world, I'm afraid. You can't make everyone happy at the same time, unfortunately, and sadly a lot of people bask in their miserable mindset rather than try and search out for the positive things in life. It's a wonder how they ever find enjoyment in anything if they're determined to live in the past, but there's nothing we can really do in order to fix that problem. It's something they'll have to work on and the best thing we can do as individuals is encourage that. If they're too stubborn to see how exciting trying new things can be, that's on them, I'm afraid. What I don't understand about people saying they miss old Who is that they're usually speaking about the 2005 stuff, but that is new Doctor Who, no? So at some point they tuned into something new, enjoyed it and were probably frustrated at the people who watched it back in the 60's who told them it wasn't as good. The cycle is brutal, but it continues. There's nothing wrong with having a preference, but if you never try, you never really know. Right? I'm actually proud of myself for that little comparison, but shh, don't tell anyone. I'm trying to be humble out here. I can only imagine how exciting it would be to be part of such a legacy. There's something about the show that pushes boundaries, even now, the writers clearly have a certain view on the world and some people might be too afraid to express that into a 'kids' TV show, but it's important to teach those lessons early in life. It also feels like now matter how far they go, they'll never run out of material, because like you said, the show is constantly adapting. Who knows how long it's actually going to run for? All I know is that future generations are going to cling on to it as much as older ones and that's pretty magical. Having a show that transcends not only race, religion and gender but age too? That's a huge achievement and I don't think people bring that up enough. As an actor, I'm sure it's been one of the coolest things that had ever happened to you. It's wild how a show as popular as Doctor Who doesn't really rely on a single man actor, the regeneration aspect continues to allow it survive and that to me is mindblowing. Once I get back home from doing press, I'll be searching up some behind the scenes footage of you during your first day's on set as The Doctor. I'm sure it's cute, don't worry. It's only natural to be scared of something with such power behind it. You shouldn't be embrassed about that. We only fear things that matter. I'd be more concerned if you didn't care. Clearly whatever you did to calm your nerves worked, like I've said you were incredible. You run was so fun and you should be so proud of all you achieved. Yeah, but people do have this idea of your head. I've realised I'm like marmite in the sense that people either love me or despise me. Never realised how much that used to mess me up until recently. Sure, people would probably still watch or purchase but unfortunately we live in the generation of social media. People don't really watch TV much anymore, so a post on Instagram is worth my weight in gold sometimes. It's the quickest and easiest way to promote my work, but that doesn't mean it's the healthiest choice. I used to love reading, but haven't picked up a book in a hot minute. Maybe I should jump back into it. Do you have any recommendations? There was a time I used to love going out for walks, but the paparazzi don't leave me alone these days. Last time I tried, they kinda harassed me and when I asked them if they could leave me alone, they said no because I was a public figure and signed up for it. Music is a great escape though. There's nothing quite like getting lost in a body of work, transporting you to another world entirely. Looks like we so have something in common. I like that. What genre do you find yourself gravitating towards? Or do you love anything with a good beat?

There was a time years ago where I couldn't see that, it toom me a long time to come to terms with the fact I couldn't make everyone like me. I'm such a people pleaser. But, after a lot of therapy, I realised that living to please others isn't a way of life. The only people who's opinion really matters are those I care for, and realistically, would I get along with people who project such negative connotations on someone they don't know? It's hugely unlikely. I'm happy to hear you have a great support system you can fall back on, that's so important. Isn't it crazy how people can find such strong connections with a performance? That's what still gives me faith in humans. We're all connected somehow and sometimes something as simple as movie is enough to build those bridges. I do think it's important to put your heart into the work you do, it always shines through and I think people can truly tell when you're passionate about certain things. It's nice that you get to hear that quite often. Having a reach to people is a huge accomplishment and I know it probably makes your day every time you hear someone say that to you. You're so deserving of it. Oh wow, I promise I'll try my best to stay in that trust bubble you've built for me. I have an in with Gordon Rasmey, maybe he can talk me through baking the perfect red velvet cake just for you. He's actually not as scary as you'd think. No! Come one, I'm bad but I'm not that bad. You're still be alive at the end of it. You're a risk taker though? That's interesting. Tell me more about your daredevil antics. I'm afraid I'm on the more vanilla side of life, but I'm willing to bet you could turn my head. Do you think as humans we'll ever be satisfied with ourselves? I've always be curious as to if anyone is completely happy with themselves, you know? And if they are, is that healthy? Don't worry, I've got your back. Your secret will be safe with me, but I'm sure if anyone knew you cried over that speech, they wouldn't judge you for it. I'm not entirely sure anyone has heard that speech and been entirely fine afterwards. It's an emotional one, so it's bound to pull at your heart strings. When you had to perform them for the first time, I'm not surprised you shead a tear or two. Goodbyes are hard at the best of times, but with a speech like that being the conclusion, holding it together would have been impossible. Is this your sign of encouragement for me to harass the writer into creating new material so the world can be blessed with more seasons? It'll be a sweet harassment, don't worry. I think I can charm them somehow. Does that make it more exciting that you kind of have free reign with the dialogue though? Don't get me wrong, I understand that it must be a little terrifying but fun nonetheless. Matt, you're gorgeous. Anyone with a set of eyes can see that. Brunette, blonde, mohawk or silver fox, that's never going to change. People swoon over you with good reason, and I'm not even sure you're fully aware. The fact that you're charming on top of that? Entirely unfair. You must be following in your fathers footsteps already, no need to worry about that. My grandpa is a legend, he's literally the best person I know. I call him papa, and I think you'd get along really well. No matter how old he gets, I swear his thrist for life just grows stronger. He says, "youth is wasted on the young" everytime I say I'd rather chill in bed than go out. He's kinda right. Personally, I'd love to see how you acted if you were 21 again. If you decide to test that out, promise you'll invite me. Maybe you should see a chiropractor about your back ache if it's that bad. Really? That's so cool. I didn't have to audition for Only Murders for the same exact reason. It's nice when people have so much faith in you and they were right, you're the only person I can imagine as Daemon. Moffat made the right choice. You were perfect for The Doctor. Couldn't imagine anyone else being Eleven. Sherlock's loss was Doctor Who's gain.

I don't know. I think if I lay on the charm extra thick, I might be able to make your mom like me enough that she'd dig into the archives to quench my curiosity. But, I won't ask provided you don't watch Barney. No one needs to see that. Why would I blame your sister? She's incredible for watching Disney and giving me a career. If it wasn't for people like that, my show would have been cancelled and I'd have gone back to being a nobody. Tell her I said thank you for forcing you to watch my older projects, that's so sweet. Even sweeter that you watched with her... even if I'm a little embrassed. Yeah, Monte Carlo. That was a fun movie to make and Leighton is so nice. Have you ever met her? Sorry about the poor imitation of an English accent. Can you believe I had an dialect coach for that? Yikes. I did play two characters, that was actually pretty fun. I got to be a bitch to myself, which I'm not sure a lot of people get to do. Hey, this is a judgement free zone. Lizzie shaped a generation. I can't go to Rome without thinking of the Lizzie McGuire movie. My mom is hands down my favourite person. She sacrificed so much for me, and I know I'll never be able to repay her for all that she's done, but I try. Must make getting up particular hard. I'm enjoying my thirties but now you're scaring me for the forty mark. At least I know what to get you for Christmas now. Heat pads and cream, you'll be like a brand new, shiny penny. Do you have a memory foam mattress? I'm telling you, a game changer! Seriously, you need to take care of yourself, okay? Disney was wild. It was a lot to live up to, they had this thing that we were role models for kids not taking into accounts that we were kids too. Being perfect is impossible. When I said damn, a lot of parents wrote in complaints and refused to let their kids listen to my music after that. That was my first and only real Disney scandle. Miley is truly an amazing human being. She does so much and is still exactly the same as she's always been. Not to be cheesy, but there really is no taming her. She is who she is and I respect the hell out of her for never letting anyone change her. Yeah, there's definitely a moment as a child actor where you have to question if everything is worth it. A lot of people decide that it isn't and that's fair. It's a lot to handle for anyone but especially when you're so young. How is it we both meet people that work in the same things as us, but we never get paired together? The universe is keeping us apart. I just did Graham Norton two days ago with Nucti Gatawa! The nicest person ever. Did you enjoy spending time with Vanessa? Thank you. "Matt is amazing" will be my new catch phrase, so it better be yours too.

It's so frustrating when people can't just be open to new things, when they've made their mind up before giving it a fair go. Honestly, sometimes it feels like no matter what you do, some people are just determined to nitpick. I think a lot of them don't even realise it. They get so caught up in what they already know and love that they don't see how much they're limiting themselves. They're afraid to admit something new might be just as good, if not better, because that would mean they were wrong. And yeah, some are probably too stubborn to admit it even if they do know. It's a shame really, 'cause they're missing out on so much by sticking to the same old stuff. Exactly, that's the best way to look at it! Nostalgia is great, but it doesn't mean you can't make space for something new as well. There's fresh material out there but you can go back to 2005 era and rewatch time and again. If anything, you can enjoy both, old and fresh stuff. You're right, you've got nothing to lose by giving it a go, and at the end of the day, the classics will always be there to fall back on. It's such a spot-on comparison. Doctor Who is one of those rare shows that's not just survived but thrived through all these years, constantly adapting. There's something amazing about being part of a show that doesn't just stay stuck in the past but continues to push boundaries. The evolution and adaptation to new times is what keep it fresh and relevant. It's a privilege to play a role that's bigger than any one actor and see how it keeps connecting with new audiences after so many years. I'm pretty sure there's some footage somewhere of my first day on set where I look absolutely terrified! I was 26 at the time, and stepping into a role with such a massive legacy was, to put it mildly, nerve-wracking. But once I got into the swing of it, I started to feel more at home in the role. There's your answer, because you're still you and it didn't get to your head, and people love that authenticity. You're not trying to be anything other than who you are, and that's what draws people in. It sounds like you've got a lot on your plate, though I'm sure people are still going to watch the movie and buy Rare Beauty products even if you're not promoting them. Sometimes I'll do the simplest things like watch a show I love, or dive into a good book, you know just escape into a different world for a while. Other times, getting outside for a walk or a run helps clear my head. Music is a big one for me too, it can really shift your mood. It's great stress reliever. That's such a healthy way to look at it, crying in your room can feel like a release, but it doesn't change what others think. It can be really disheartening when people only see a tiny snippet of who you are and make assumptions. What helped me was really leaning into the support of my friends and family. It's amazing to see how a certain role can touch people's lives, I've had moments where I've seen how a performance can make someone see a piece of themselves in the story or find comfort in it during tough times. It might feel like sheer luck sometimes, but I also think when you put your heart into it, people pick up on that energy and it all makes sense. I'm glad you think that, it makes me proud to know I've been apart of something so important to society. I've had people come to me to say how much of an impact the show had on them, not just my Doctor, and it's such a fantastic moment. I have blind trust in you, Selena. Don't let me down here. I really think you'll nail it, even if you're not the best baker in town. I like taking risks. Maybe I'm risking my own wellbeing, but here we go. It's tricky, it can blur the lines between genuine feedback and what's just flattery. That can make it really easy to start nitpicking your own work, looking for flaws. I think it's only human to want that validation, but it can definitely lead to a cycle of self-doubt if you're not careful.

I love your plan, tissues at the ready is a solid strategy! I’ll keep it on the down-low if I get a bit misty-eyed too. Those heartfelt lines always get to me, tried me best not to cry on set that day, but of course it was mission failed. I'm here for the long haul, if they wanted to do even more seasons than Game of Thrones had, sign me up. But unless they keep extending the little material there is, I doubt it'll make it to five seasons. The good thing about GoT was the dialogues and in this show there's no source material for that. Honestly, that's being too generous! My dad was one handsome lad and if I look anything like him when I'm older, the silver fox is guaranteed, but he rocked that look so I'll take a leaf out of his book. Your grandpa is onto something, though, age is just a number. I've always said that too when I was younger, though. Maybe it's time to ditch the "old mindset" and start living like I'm 21 again… just with a bit more wisdom (and maybe a few more backaches)! I think they have me in consideration sometimes, I didn't even have to audition for House of the Dragon 'cause they thought I was their Daemon. But you know, when you get a few failed auditions for something you were kinda excited about, you become more reluctant to believe you're directors' favorite. Moffat didn't want me for Watson in Sherlock, but he did want me for Doctor Who so there's that! There's the silver lining. I can see the place the embarrassment comes from, even if I think being that young should exempt us from feeling so embarrassed. Look, those are out of everyone's reach! No one will ever be able to get a hold of them. I wouldn't dare burn them or I'm afraid of my mum would do to me, but these are impossible to get your hands in. I promise I won't search you and the dinosaur, but I admit there's curiosity there. I have! Listen, I blame my sister for all of this. She'd make me watch Disney Channel with her, even if she was already too old for it, I believe. I swear I had no control over it. I think I also watched this movie you did with Leighton Meester, Montecarlo? It was a good one! And you played two characters, didn't you? Lizzie McGuire style. Before you ask, yes, I saw Lizzie too. I can imagine the thrill of acting together being best friends. That's really beautiful. It sounds like your mom has been a huge influence in your life. Her advice about prioritizing your happiness is something we could all use more of. She did an incredible job raising you. Props to her for being that guiding light! It's only in the mornings but the back pain has been a bit of a nightmare. I haven't tried heat cream yet, but I'm definitely considering it. Maybe I should start stockpiling the stuff, along with a heating pad and some comfy cushions. Who knew getting older would come with a whole toolkit for managing aches and pains? These Disney people rules are insane. Damn is such a regular in my vocabulary. I didn't know all of that, I did assume Disney earned a good amount of money off of her. Hannah Montana was everywhere, it didn't matter where you looked, you'd find her merchandising. She still seems a grounded person, it didn't affect her big time. Many child actors become invisible willingly 'cause they grow more and more tired of the franchise they work for, but there she is still in the spotlight. Ohh, Vanessa too? I met her once on James Corden. I'll tune in and tell you how I like it. All right, I'll start saying how amazing I am out loud now.

[stagemanagerssaygo]

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney’s Hyperion Theater

by Cooper Howell

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney's Hyperion Theater. #holdingtheateraccountable Im just gonna go ahead and be straight up. This is pretty scary to share. HEAVEN: Once upon a time Liesl Tommy cast me as Prince Hans in Frozen: Live at the Hyperion. And I was gooped. GOOPED. There was nothing in my prior history that gave any indication this was possible. Up until then every role I played had to do with my race. Every. Single. One. And even ones where it didn’t (Shakespeare or classical pieces mostly) I was always made aware that the novelty of me being a poc in that role that gave me the part. So much did I not expect to get this part that when I got the callback I rolled my eyes and didn’t take the actual callback seriously. I mean, there was a zero percent chance that Disney would ever let me play a Prince, especially when the dude in the movie is a ginger. But then I got it. And immediately everything I thought was possible about my career changed. My whole life I’ve never inwardly felt black. I’ve never inwardly felt white. I’ve always felt like I was Cooper, you know, on the inside. But whether it was every single white human in Utah reminding me that I was “the whitest person they ever knew/saw” (which DIDNT mean how white my skin was. It was how white I ACTED) or Mr. Johnson, my 7th grade drama teacher, telling me that he “wanted to put Velcro on the ceiling to see if I’d stick” or Mr. Smith, my high school drama teacher, saying “finally we can do black shows” as soon as I entered high school and then not casting me in roles because of the "optics" of it, or even my best friend in high school Tanner Harmon who called me "blackie", I was always reminded that I was an other. So imagine getting paid good money to put on that $10,000 costume and waltzing out to 4000 people a day to play a really amazing part. A fantastic, evil, complicated, person who sings a killer duet and then grabs the show by the throat with a vicious about-face monologue... and not once was my race ever mentioned cuz it didnt matter. What was being prized was Cooper, my talent, not my skin color that I never asked for. Heaven. Liesl MADE SURE, almost overly sure, that the poc’s in the cast felt equal. The kingdom of Arendelle, after all, is a make believe place. It can be whatever. From having Disney executives come and tell us that they were happy to have us there, to side conversations with John Lasseter, we were made to feel overly welcome playing the parts we were playing. She encouraged us to dive deeper into the script of a cartoon that I didnt really think much of until I was in it. We were encouraged to ask why. We felt seen as talent and not commodities. There were, of course, detractors. Gosh, I remember people at a party of cast members from "Mickey and the Magical Map" another show at Disneyland which features a princess and the frog number and many of those casts mates angrily claiming that “if that black girl Tiana Okoye can play Elsa than I should be able to play Princess Tiana” and then looking at me to confirm that was okay to say, not realizing that a) she’s one of my best friends, b) that I’m in the show with her also playing a role that wasn't created to be a poc, c) how racist that sounded, and d) why there's a difference there and why that wouldn't make sense. On Liesls final night I came up to her and said “I don’t know why you did it but thank you so much for casting ME in this part” to which she replied “you mean why would I cast a handsome, talented person in this role?” And I stuttered something like “well, I mean, I’m black. You know...” to which she tilted her head to her side and said “no. I don’t know why. Tell me why that matters.” And I had no answer. Seeing that I had no answer she smiled. That was the answer. There was no reason. On the spot my outlook about myself changed. Windows into what I thought was possible for me opened. -------------------------------------- HELL: And then Liesl went back to NYC and she was replaced by a man named Roger Castellano as show director. Rogers task, he told us on the first day, was to "change the show". We were not told what needed to be changed or even why, but that changes were on the horizon. You've got to understand: to a full cast of actors who had just spent more than three months dissecting a 60 page Disney script with a Tony nominated director like it was Shakespeare, we were initially emotionally/mentally/spiritually resistant to changes. But then it became clear that the spirit of collaboration was over, and the show changes were to be given without the same care, consideration, and thematic explanation of why they were being made. Everyones initial reaction was to push back, but when people who questioned their notes or their changes started getting days removed their schedule or being replaced entirely by a new actor, the Hyperion theater became a place where no one was allowed to speak out. Injustices were happening left and right and no one felt they could do anything for fear of losing their livelihood. And that's when the Frozen: Live at the Hyperion became a living hell. In my first note session with Roger he pulled me into a room with Domonique Paton, my best friend and incredible costar who played princess Anna in the show I was in. She just so happens to also be black. Almost all of Prince Hans’s scenes in the show are with her character and so most of my notes would be primarily based on those interactions with her. Earlier in the day I performed with a different (white) actress but it was the show with Domonique that I had a note session about. Imagine my surprise and dismay when, with how Liesl set up the show experience, we were told this: “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER ITS TOO… URBAN.” Urban. What else could that have meant, do you think? He could have said maybe “too contemporary” emphasizing that we were maybe too modern in our speech patterns or movements. We weren’t. He could have said “too lax” or “too loose” meaning that maybe we were being unprofessional and goofy up there because we’re really good friends. We were not. The best me and Ms. Paton could think of was a 8 count moment of improv dance that me and Domonique decided to use as a synchronized moment of unity. It happened to fall on the line “our mental synchronization can have but one explanation” and thought, with the freedom that Christopher (the original choreographer) had given us, was appropriate, especially considering everyone behind us was doing the robot. As in the 80s robot. But he didnt clarify. He just said “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER IT’S TOO… URBAN” And when asked what he meant he smiled with a little shrug and said "you can figure that out. You're smart." And thats how I became Black Hans and Domonique became Black Anna. My every moment onstage afterwards became about the optics of being a poc in that show. It was if I was suddenly made aware that I was LUCKY enough to be there and under any normal circumstances, or this new directors circumstances, me getting this part would have never happened. But the message was clear. It was especially clear when me and Domonique Paton shows together durastically decreased and made even more clear when the vast majority of the new hires were not people of color. But no one said anything. And made even MORE clear when, over the next few weeks, both Domonique and I got COPIOUS notes, ten times that of our coworkers that played the same parts. It was almost a game. In fact we did turn it into a game, seeing who would get the least amount of notes from him in a day. Our costars would even joke about it onstage with us, during the ballroom scene, and jokingly whisper "The shows been up 15 minutes. How many do you think you got today?" But no one said anything. And the notes were about all kinds of things. How we held our hand. If our inflections went up or down on a word. Which side of a couch we leaned on… which was fine! When you're an actor, thats the gig... until we started comparing our notes with the actors that played our same parts and none of them, NONE, would get the same notes. Our notes would be outrageously longer, the note sessions sometimes lasting 10/15 minutes. Others would get the “Oh hey, try doing this or that next time, okay bye” walk-by notes. Sometimes I would sneak into the audience and watch as some of the other Han's, some of whom changed lines, changed entire intentions of scenes, some of whom adding in all types of vocalizations and cackles and dance moves and what have you, and would receive ZERO notes. But I was watching them to see what was wrong with me. What was my performance missing? What am I actually doing to feel this singled out. And then I realized that the thing that was wrong with me was that I was a different color than the 5 other white Hans's they cast. And then I started getting notes about my penis. Most of the time these “penis sessions”, as I called them, were given in private rooms without another stage manager present. It was incredibly unpleasant and unprofessional. In fairness, those Prince Hans pants are TIGHT! And yes, Mr. Howell is indeed a party in the front and a party in the back, but so were a lot of those fellas. And thats where I put my foot down. If Disney was going to provide me with a costume it is not my responsibility to fix their problem, especially when other of my (white) costars had been given a dance belt for the same thing. But they never got penis notes. Private session notes about what their penis looked like in that show. Over and over again I was told to fix it, to not make it (my dick) so apparent, and that “if my daughter were younger I wouldn’t want her to come to a show you were performing at" all the more insulting considering his daughter, a cast member in the show, was a friend of mine and the loveliest person. He started demanding that I buy a dance belt. It was “my fault”, “my responsibility” …and thats where I took my stand. And then it really became hell. Penis sessions were now done out in the open. Once, he screamed at me, in the green room in front of all of my costars during lunch, about how incredible unprofessional I was, about how he was tired of seeing my dick, and that if I didnt go buy myself one I didnt deserve to be there anymore. Followed by a huge litany of notes. That doesnt compare to some of what Domonique went through and I invite her to share them if she’s willing. During this time I went to every stage manager in the building and told them about being singling out and about my penis. They all told me to write a complaint report and it would go to some place called "HR". Which I did. Numerously. More months passed. Nothing from "HR". Multiple cast members who witnessed my note sessions encouraged me to go to the HR themselves. I didnt honestly know what an HR was. As soon as it was explained to me by my allies even what an HR was I went to the head of HR at Disneyland herself and waited outside of her door. I asked her if she got any of my HR reports and she told me that she had received no HR reports from the Hyperion. Ever. And then asked me to fill out a HR form. As we went over it, she asked me some questions, and then set up a second meeting. On the second meeting she said that in order for my report to be given credence I would need witnesses to give their testimony. The witnesses, in fact the very people that told me to go to HR in the first place, said no. They didnt want to lose their jobs. In retrospect that might be the thing that hurt the most but, whatever... anyway, I was told "“well… without testimonies we’ll do an investigation and we’ll call you when we’ve completed it.” I never received a phone call. With absolutely zero protection from the stage managers from both the sexual harassment or my obvious racial targeting I (and others) were experiencing, not to mention that HR reports were doing nothing, aka not being forwarded, I thought about quitting. And when a white stage manager made a show mistake and laughed it off to the cast by saying an entirely offensive lynching joke, I quit. I didnt matter to Disney. How I felt and what I was being put through didnt matter. I was a commodity. My departure was unceremonious. Bizarre. 100% un-magical. I hung up my costume one last time and it was given to a new Hans, one who looked very much like me oddly, and stepped out of the theater. The park was playing “every wish your heart desires will come to you” and I remember laughing at how dead that song felt. The director has since moved on but still works as a musical theater director in Southern California. This one time 4 years ago I got to feel something other than my color for the first and only time in my professional career. It lasted from about March 2016 to July 2016 and never again since. I will never forget in those early days looking at all the beautiful princesses I got to woo and thinking “wow. I’m a prince right now.” Im sure that sounds stupid. But it didn't feel stupid. And a Disney prince! Yeah, a shitty prince kinda... I mean, he's a sociopath... BUT still a Prince! Especially special was being able to look in Dominique’s eyes and I could see the same glimmer of “can you believe we get to do this right now” reflected back. We never knew it was in the cards for us. My race always has and will always be part of my career equation and a determining factor of its projection. It will always be a determining factor in how im treated, by creatives, by people, by the those in authority over me, including the government and the police. #wasitmyskin

Copied in its entirety here from Cooper Howell’s public Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10163696376095054&set=a.10151302685610054&type=3&theater

[yesimwriting]

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

--

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

--

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

--

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[smoooothoperator]

The Last Name (M.S.)

a/n: who else cried during the Schumacher movie?

The day I met Mick, he was racing with Formula 2 on Spain. I was a volunteer as a management student that coordinated the Formula 1 drivers around the paddock and all the installations and he just bumped into me and pushing me to the floor.

"Oh shit! I'm sorry". His german accent invaded my distracted ears and when I looked up at him his blue eyes made me melt immediately. "The fault is mine". He smiled and took my hand helping me stand up, and when I was in comfort of him he smiled even more. "Y/N" I said extending my hand and he took it again shaking it. "Mick". That time I didn't know who was that the blond guy with ocean eyes. I only knew his name that he was a driver on Formula 2.

No one told me who he was. And I didn't mind.

The next time I saw him he was wearing his racing suit, the red Ferrari one. "So a Ferrari, uh?" I smiled looking at him and crossing my arms against my chest. "Long time no see" he smiled to me and walked in my direction. "You had an upgrade, as I see. Good for you".

I was there as an spectator, my volunteering year ended but I wanted to continue on that world, unfortunately my last year of career was taking too much time to enjoy the races.

"I didn't see you on the other races" he said searching for my volunteer card. "Last year I was there because I study management and I worked with the McLaren team as one of the assistants of their PR" I explained to him. "Oh? A future manager" he laughed. His gaze was shy, really shy. And then I looked at the name on his suit. 'M.Schumacher'. "A Schumacher fan? I always asked myself what happened to him... I was a fan since little and when I heard the news of that accident... how terrible". "Yeah, I... I'm a fan"

He didn't tell me the truth. And I didn't mind.

The third time I saw him I was working with McLaren, as Lando Norris assistant, we were the same age and really close. Mick saw me first, walking beside Lando on the paddock with a shirt of McLaren.

"Y/N!" He called me and Lando and I turned around. Lando gasped as he saw him walking to us and I gave some steps lefting him behind me. "I saw this year you had an upgrade" he told me and I smiled. "McLaren assistant. With Lando Norris". He looked over my shoulder and smiled to Lando, waving him and looking back at me. "I'm so happy to see you again". "Yeah, we should hang out some time now that I can travel the world again with the drivers". "Yeah, sure. Give me your number and we can talk some time". I laughed and gave him my phone, where he waited his number and saving it as 'Mick💙', making me laugh and smile to him.

When I walked back to Lando he was speechless, watching how Mick walked away. "What?". "Do you know him?". "I met him some years ago when we bumped into each other, why?". "Y/N, he is Schumacher. Mick Schumacher. He will drive for Haas the next season."

Schumacher.

"Oh". I turned my head back trying to search him, but he was already away. We walked into the McLaren box ,and whatever Lando was saying to me I didn't hear it. "Sorry Lando, I need to do a call"

I walked outside the McLaren building and searched for his number on my phone and when I found it I called him. After three tones he picked up and when I heard his voice I smiled. "I'm Y/N, are you free? I want to talk with you if you don't mind". "Yeah, I'm free. Do you want me to go for you or...?". "Yeah, we can grab something to drink if you want to".

He appeared a few minutes ago, with his Ferrari Academia Hoodie and that name on his shirt. 'M. Schumacher'. Now it make sense.

"Hi" his smile was timid as mine. "What do you wanted to talk about?". I sighed and waited for some seconds searching for the good question. "You are Michael's son, right?". My question made him stop walking and his eyes were full of panic. I took his hand and walked us between the trucks. His eyes aren't looking atme any more. "Hey Mick, it's alright" I pressed my hands in both of his cheeks trying to relax him. "I'm not mad, really". "It's just... you were the first person here that only called me by my name. They are always saying Schumacher do this, Schumacher do that... Schumacher, Schumacher. And you... for you I was only Mick". "And you'll always be just Mick."

After that day we became close friends. I never asked him about his father, never forced him to talk about it. I know his family don't like being involved with the press and they appreciate their private life. The more I know him, the more he shows how he truly is.

The summer of 2020 he asked me to go with him and his family on vacations, something that really surprised me.

"Y/N I need to tell you something" he sighed one night he stayed at my apartment for dinner. "I appreciate a lot that you are always by my side. You cheer me up when I'm down and you never asked me why, you just... you just put your shoulder letting me lay in it". "That's what friends do, Mick". "But I love you, Y/N. More than a friend" he sighed dand I looked at him with a smile, hugging him and lying my head on his chest. "I love you too, Mick". "I want you to meet my parents. I'm ready to talk about it" I looked up at him and nodded, listening patiently to him, hugging him when some tears ran down his face and kissing him after he told me everything.

The day I met his parents was like a normal day. I tried my best to make his family proud of him, talking with them like if I knew them since forever. The moment I saw Michael I wanted to cry. Cry of happiness because he is here, smiling to me like if I was one of his kids.

"Dad, this is Y/N" he said taking my hand and talking to his father.

After the dinner I was with his mother cleaning the plates and I watched how Mick talked with Michael.

"He loves you" Carinna said smiling. "He looks at you the same way Michael looked... looks at me". "It's hard, isn't it?" I asked looking at her. "We do everything we can to make him feel at home. Mick always admired him, he is proud of his father". "I admire him too. He is so strong. I was fan when I was little, watched every race with my father. When the news of the accident came I couldn't believe it... and then Mick appeared in my life". "He talked about you, you know? The girl that treated him like a normal guy and called him by his name". "He's a normal guy with an important last name. I didn't care the story of it, I care about who he is". "Thank you, darling. For being his person"

When Mick told me that Netflix wanted to do a documentary about his father and that he was going to talk there I was surprised. The Schumacher family made a wall when Michael woke up from his coma, and never did any press conference about that. Doing this was a big step and it made me proud.

"I want to ask you something" he said taking both of my hands in his. "I'm too young to get married with you" I joked, trying to calm the tension that is on the house since he told me about his interview. "What? No! I mean... not now, but... I wanted to ask you if you could be my manager. I want to work with you and being partners, you know" he asked shy, biting his lips. "This thing with the documentary is driving me crazy and I need someone by my side that helps me on keeping my head in order".

I smiled and hugged him, promising to he by his side during the entire process of recording, with him and his family.

The day the cameras came to his family house he started to panic when they gave him the things he has to talk about. He closed himself on his room and his sister and I tried our best to talk with him.

"Mick, babe, open the door. I want to see you" I sighed, nodding to Gina asking her to leave us alone. He opened the door and took my hand pulling me to his side. "I know you are nervous, but you can do this. I know talking about him is hard for you". "But is like rememorating that day, I was with him when he had the accident. I have to talk about that, about what it feels to have him and not have him." I kissed his hands and caressed his cheeks, smiling to him. "You can do this, I know you. I'll be beside the camera, you can look at me. Tell me everything, like that day, remember? When we were on my house with pizza and beer and you said you loved me. Do this for me, honey".

He nodded and and I hugged him, hiding my apace on his chest and breathing his scent, feeling home. I took his hand and interviewed out hands, squeezing his palm and drawing circles on his skin while we walked down the stairs into the living room.

The director sat him on the chair that is in front of the camera and explained to him what he has to do. I sat on the couch, behind the director and he fixed his eyes on me, biting his lips. The guionist explained him everything and he started to talk.

He started to talk, with his eyes shining at the moment he said Michael is his hero. But then the moment of the accident came and his voice started to crack.

"It's unfair" he said, moving his eyes around the room and smiling sad. "I think papa and me would understand us. We would understand each other in a different way now"

I want to cry. Hearing him talk about his father and seeing him so fragile, like if he's going to have a breakdown in any moment, is making me feel anxious. When he ended talking, his last word was at the edge of a sob, looking down at his hands. The director nodded and smiled to Mick, and signalled to the cameraman to stop recording.

Mick started to cry and I stood up quickly of the couch, running to him and wrapping his body with my arms.

"I'm so proud of you, Mick. So, so, so proud of you" I whispered attracting him into my body. I thanked the personal with him on my arms and Gina and Corinna walked with them to the front door. Later, they wrapped us with their arms. "I am so proud of all of you, my kids" Corinna said kissing our heads, making me smile because she considers me as one of the family. "Thank you so much, Y/N. Thank you for being here, for help us, for support us and for letting us use your shoulder when we need to cry. I love you so much, little girl".

The day Netflix dropped the documentary I helped Mick to announce it on all his social media. That day we were nervous and working like crazy. We agreed to watch it at night on the apartamento we share, cuddling on our coach and with the darkness of the night.

The final product was perfect. The journey of his racing career, all his problems and how he succeeded were perfect. The people talking about him was wonderful, Sebastian talking with admiration about Michaek made me cry. But the end of it left me without breath. The last interview was him.

"Oh my god" both of us sighed clearing out throats when the final credits appeared.

The silence invaded the room.

"I know I repeated this too much. But I'm so proud of you" he sighed and kissed my lips. "We'll do whatever it takes to make your father proud of who you became. I know your last name is too heavy for you, but it's time to show the world who you are. It's time to show the world that the Schumacher legacy continues"

He smiled and nodded, hugging me and hiding his face on my shoulder.

"I'll make sure that the Schumacher legacy doesn't ends" I said with a smile, knowing the meaning of my words and reflecting our future on them. "I promise you that one day you'll be part of it. You'll be a Schumacher and we will let the world know it" Mick whispered into my lips, brushing his with mines. "I'm waiting for that day, Mick"

[cliffordbradshawcharleykringas]

beetlejuice moments that make me laugh every single time (mostly dialogue)

“how YOU doin’? woah, not good! adadoodoodeedadoo da da!”

“if you die during today’s performance the show will not stop :-)”

“apart from frustration pain and financial drain it’s fun !!!”

“look at these jugs!” (beetlejuice turns around and then looks disappointed)

the little dance they do during “what’s the point of having children if we’re drowning in debt”

“maybe 80%” “i’d say 78”

“sometimes puppet shows are sad”

“i mean say we are…dead…that’s…that’s bad, obviously-“

“ghost zombie jesuuuuuus”

“you don’t recognize me. i’m your father.” “…dad?”

the face barbara makes when beetlejuice gives her the femur

“we. are. invisible.” (spank)

“mmmmmmmYYYyyess, there’s Very Good Energy In Here”

“he’s my white whale” “i don’t see race <3”

“oh god delia. you erotic astronaut”

“you said ‘stop being so we-eird, i need this job’”

“knock knock! who’s there? happiness-!” “NO”

“it’s just a figure of speech jesus christ adam why you gotta be so sexy”

“whose head is that???” “..i don’t know..”

beetlejuice air-drumming during the first chorus of fright of their lives

“dolly levi, matchmaker!”

the backup singers in fright of their lives’s entrance AND exit

barbara and adam’s little dance after they say “let’s hide their phones!”

“fuck brigadoon”

“see you in hell! bah! i’m gone!”

“hey guys..? fuck you guys”

“let’s…haunt this biiiiitch”

whatever barbara is doing during adam’s “if we wanna win back our home” part

delia dab

“it says i’m warm, i’m friendly, and i think about death only a normal amount.”

“LYDIA NO GIMME THAT! smash.”

“what’re they saying?” “buy more crystals”

“and you have to buy a cat cause that’s your last chance to have a family”

“we used to make these haunted houses in the garage, but in the summer, so no one was expecting it”

“adam that’s not why she doesn’t like it here” “i know but it’s not helping”

third leg

“she’s always like get a job, why is your hair purple, i should have left like your father”

adam and barbara possession song and dance

“fool your friends! fun at parties! i did iiiiit”

“i was kicked in the head by a dressage horse!”

“as my guru otho always says, DAYYYYYYY-O.”

“on behalf of delia and myself, i’d just like to say WORK ALL NIGHT ON A DRINK OF RUM”

“barbara, the pig!” “who wants bacon?!” “no! stop! i’m a vegan!”

“hello! i’m from the u.s. census bureau, time for a few Oh My God!”

“if i were alive i could get out of this house, meet my kind of people. yknow socially liberal but fiscally conservative.”

“what, where’d i lose ya? oh, it’s not a real marriage. it’s like a green card thing! yeah, strictly business.”

“who are we decapitating?” “beetlejuice.” “you should! he’d love that”

“hate is a strong word, but i…do not like him!”

“woah…! this is such an interesting font!”

“a spin your own yarn kit?!?” “okay, that was not as much fun as i thought it would be”

“break it.” “*gasp*”

“you have a big brain.” “you make it big.”

“and the age gap is upsetting :D”

“👏did 👏you 👏e👏ven 👏read 👏the 👏hand👏book. 👏what 👏else 👏do 👏you 👏have 👏to 👏DO mami? you’re dead!”

“Nietzsche was right you know, to live is to suffer, bro!”

juno “running” with the walker

“your mother knew this was going to happen.. i mean not this, i don’t think anyone could have predicted this-“

“i hid it in case that dancing football player found me. he was so fast! so much poise!”

“what’s wrong sugar lumps? did you think i wasn’t coming back?” “i mean you literally jumped into hell to get away from me”

“mr. juice.”

(i’m listing this as three separate jokes)

“NOW HOLD ON ONE DAMN MINUTE.”

“MISTER beetlejuice. since we met, you have PINCHED ME, GROPED ME, and HARASSED ME, sir.”

“and i wanna tell you in front of all these people, that it! has! worked.” (skeletons gasp) “i want you, beetlejuice.” (unbuttons collar)

“saggy old asses”

“i found me a wife. l’chaim. to life.”

“i was ignored, but now i’m adored! ‘cause i extorted, tortured, and lied! give it up for my underage briiiiiide!”

“i can’t believe some cultures think this kind of thing’s alright :/“

“YOU.” (BWAMMMMMM)

every “this guy knows what i’m talking about” but especially the last one

“yeah i’m a part of this too i don’t get it but i’m a part of it!!!”

“well look at you! all ganging up against the mean lady from hell!”

“check it out lydia! now we both got dead moms!”

“delilah.” “delia.” “we didn’t hang out much. charles-“

“TELLLLL MYYYY STOOOORYYYY”

[baecvlt]

Hello hello! I looove your work! I was wondering if I could requests Kazuichi taking his best friend(or lover! Just thought friend would make it more interesting) on a late night car ride to test some adjustments he made to it, could end up with some steamy car sex? Hopefully this made sense! I've been craving this kind of fic

Car Sex: Kazuichi Soda x Reader

a/n: It’d be an honor to write this. Hope you enjoy! ALso VERY WELL ESTABLISHED FRIENDSHIP HERE + projecting my interests onto reader because I get selfish AND I feel like Kaz listens to rock/alt/indie music. K byeee. ALSO READER IS FEM, pls specify next time

It was a Friday night, you were out for dinner with your best friend, Kazuichi Soda. You were glad to finally get out the house. It got lonely, plus you got to catch up with him and see him personally. He offered to pay for your meal, you allowed it since this time you were tight on money. As he paid, you notice he was excited about something.

“I know this is so last minute,” he began,“But I was wondering if you’d come back to the shop with me”

You nodded, but remained curious. “Of course, I’ll go, but why?”. He leaned toward you and he was excited. His leg was shaking and hands slightly shaking. “I’m finally finished with my car!,” he cheered,“I want you to be the very first to join me for a test drive!”. You smiled. Kazuichi had been working on this car since high school. He almost gave up on it too, so you were happy he never gave up on it. “Of course I’ll go!,” you told him, just as cheerful as he was. You both has walked to the restaurant, now walked back to the shop.

His family was there, closing the shop up. You obviously greeted them. He walked right past them and to the garage. A sheet was on top of the car. Once you were in the room, he walked towards it. He grabbed the sheet, doing a small countdown. “3..2..1-”. He yanked the sheets off, revealing a new and improved car. “So, what do ya think?”. You were excited with him now. “Jesus, the paint job on this is amazing!,” you said to him. “‘May have taken me my whole high school and half my college experience to finish it, but it was worth it!”.

“Totally”

“What do ya say? Should we take it out for a spin”

“You don’t have to ask me twice”

He cheered quietly, opening the passenger door for you and hopping into the driver’s side. He opened the garage door, pulling out of the driveway. He had only driven down the street and you saw how nervous he was. You grabbed his hand, he gasped when you did. “Hey, I’m sure the car is fine, don’t stress out”. He smiled, putting his arm around you. You relaxed laying back. You drove around for about half an hour, going up some hill to a mountain. “Where are we going?,” you asked him.

“We’re gonna look at the stars”

“Ooo, nice”

He parked by the edge of the mountain. It was weird because no other cars were to be seen. Usually there were. “By the way, I wanna show you the coolest thing here,” he said, opening the glove compartment. He took out a CD, Slowdive's 1993 album Souvlaki, and revealed he had a working stereo. "Holy shit, it works?," you were excited. He nodded, popping in the CD. "I love Slowdive," you mumbled. He smiled, chuckling a little.

"I know. You were listening to it the day we met"

"Oh! I was...Yeah, I remember you came up to me that day. You were so awkward"

"Right? God, I feel like I acted like a douche"

"You were like,'Hey, we shouldn't be able to hear your music'"

"Yeah, yeah. Then you were all,'Oh, sorry!'. Then, I was like,'Don't worry, but anyway, Slowdive, huh?'"

You both laughed. "God, I felt that you were trying to hit on me that moment," You told him,"But you're just...you're really nice". Smiling, he shook his head. "Do you miss high school?," he asked. You thought about it for a moment. Did you? "You know what," you began,"Partially". He was confused. "What do you mean?".

"Well, we all had good times in high school. We had good friends, all those memories. We've kinda drifted away, but that's why I partially miss it"

"So why don't you?"

"I felt like I didn't belong"

He looked at you sympathetically. "You all had an established talent. I didn't," you told him,"Sometimes, I still wish I hadn't gone". Hearing you say so saddened him. "But you're good at a lot," he said,"You were better than everyone there". "You're just saying--".

"No! I swear, you are talented at a lot. It was just never put into one thing. You aren't alone either. Hajime never had an exact talent, Nagito won a lottery...you belonged there just as anybody else. You are a Jack of All Trades—"

"—Master of None."

"NO! You are the master of all!"

You smiled. "I care so much about you. I'm really glad we met. I just know that if we hadn't met my life wouldn't be the way it is now...," he said,"So, please, never say that again! You belonged there". You lay back in your seat, trying not to cry. For the first time in forever you felt like you had a place in the world, it felt weird, but not bad. You weren't used to feeling important. "Are you even happy with your life?". He looked at his thumbs when you asked him that. You were afraid of his answer, you didn't know why, but you were.

"There are somethings I wish I didn't have to deal with, but when I think about you, I realize that it's all worth dealing with...and that makes me the happiest man in the world"

"Kaz..."

He said your name, his voice low when he did. It interrupted anything you wanted to say next and your thoughts were racing. "I..I—". He sighed. You knew whatever he had to say next was not easy for him to spit out. "You know how important this car is was for me, it took up my entire high school year to work on. I know I had fun doing it, but I didn’t build it for me,” he sputtered and you could tell he was nervous,“I made this car so that...so that I'd have something to impress you with the day I had the courage to tell you how I really feel about you. I love you and I have for so long. I don't see myself being with anyone else and I wanted you to think of me as the coolest guy you'd ever met and now you probably think I'm a chump–"

You launched yourself towards him, attacking his lips and you felt his skin radiating. He felt as if he had been kissed by an angel. "I love you too, Kaz," you whispered. You really did. Crawling onto his lap, you pushed his hair back. "I wish it hadn't taken you so long to tell me," you added, frowning,"We could have done all these cute high school couple things, then moved onto adult couple things". He kissed you this time, his hands on your hips as you nibbled his bottom lip. He managed to move you both to the passenger side in order to prevent your back setting the horn off. He stopped for a minute.

"'Adult couple things'?"

"Yeah"

"Well, we're adults now, aren't we? And who says we're too old to do what high schoolers do"

"You're not wrong either...but are you interested in doing adult things with me?"

He blushed and looked away for a minute,"I, uh- I've never done it before. I was waiting do it with someone who loves me, y'know? But- you love me, right?". You laughed, nodding. He laughed too, shaking his head as he reached up your skirt, his calloused and rough hands rubbing your thighs. "Hoh-okay, you asked for it". He leaned forwards to kiss you, grabbing the waistband of your panties as his tongue entered your mouth. He pulled them down, allowing you to remove the rest by making his seat go further back. You kicked them off, going to unzip his jeans and pull those down too along with his boxers. He was already rock hard and made you throb just looking as his cock. It was slightly above average in both length and girth, but what did you expect from a dork like him?

You took off your entire skirt before climbing right back into his lap right after pulling them down, he smirked and lowly praised you: "Good girl". He kissed you a little more before he grabbed his cock, ready to guide it inside you. "You ready?". You were shaking, but uttered a soft,"Yes...". Before he could, the Slowdive song you were listening to when you first met started playing and you knew this was meant to happen. You melted when he heard it too. It means it meant something to him and it meant as much to him as it meant to you. "You remember this song, baby?". He pressed light kisses on your forehead as you nodded. You felt his tip at your entrance and you whined. "W-Wait! Kaz, please be careful," you begged. He nodded and kissed you again. "I'll be soft," he reassured you,"Besides, I want to take my time with you. Okay?". You took a breath and relaxed.

"Okay"

"Uh, wait- I should probably ask. Did you wanna do this laying down? I don't think it's fair if you're on top during our first. Plus, I don't want your back to hurt"

"Y-Yeah, my back was starting to ache a little"

He nodded, putting the seat all the way back, now mimicking a bed. You switched positions, spreading your legs for him. He put the volume on the stereo almost all the way up before picking your legs up. He positioned himself again, pushing in just the tip. You gasped quietly, breaking into a very sweet moan as he pushed in all the way, groaning lustfully. He repeatedly pushed in: deep, but slow. He only felt his erection grow harder seeing you blush. Your little moans and soft whimpers when he'd hit that one spot you thought only you would be able to reach made him twitch inside you. He tried to keep his composure, but your walls constantly pumping him made it almost impossible. He leaned forward, desperately trying to kiss you. You could've melted right then and there, seeing how this man made love to you. "I-I love you..," he whispered against your lips. God, he was so cute too.

"I love you too, Kaz, but this is a little too slow now"

"Please, tell me what you need"

"I want you fuck me harder"

"Whatever you say, princess"

His thrusts went from "slow and deep" to "abrupt and very deep". "Like that?". You kissed him in response, grabbing his hair and pushing his head to you. His hips snapped inside you, making it harder to control your breathing. At this point, the windows as fogged up, making the air around you hot. He grabbed your breast, massaging them. You did him the favor of unbuttoning your blouse. You grabbing his hand and slipped it under your bra. "They're so pretty and warm," he mumbled. You could tell he didn't want you to hear that from how low he said it, but you heard it well. He pulled your bra down to your torso, ducking his head down to be able to suck on your breasts a little. "K-Kaz! I'm really sensitive there!". He didn't respond, so entertained by your boobs, knowing playing with them made you feel good.

Your stomach was in knots and it was hard to hold anything anymore.

It took one really hard thrust, making you squirt. He didn't even know it could do that. You didn't cum all the way through, making it uncomfortable now. You felt like you were being edged. "Kaz, it doesn't feel good anymore".

"Do we stop?"

"No, no! Just...I need to cum"

"I'll get you there"

His hands went back to your hips, slamming into you fast and deep. Your body trembled, shaking as he hit your sweet spot again and again and again. "Is this okay?," his voice husky as he was nearing his orgasm too. You nodded, whining. "I-It feel so good..please don't stop," you cried,"It's so good!..". He went faster, grunting softly. You were near crying, about to release. "Are you gonna cum?". He was just as impatient as you were.

"I'm cumming, I-I'm cumming"

"I can't last anymore. C-Can I cum inside?"

"Please, baby"

He groaned you name, shooting his load in you. You knew it was a lot too, feeling it when you moved. He pulled out, laying on the other seat lazily. You were still so turned on, pumping your two fingers in and out of you, securing his cum inside you. "Good girl". You picked your braw up to cover your chest since it was getting cold. "You look so pretty," he added. You were blushing as he helped you with your clothes. Naturally, you helped him with his. "I hope this is a good time to ask, but...". "Yes?"

"I want you to be my girlfriend"

"I'm so glad you do. Yes, Kazuichi, I'll be your girlfriend!"

"Yes! Fuck Yes! Oh god, I'm so happy!"

You kissed his cheek, making him become even more giddy as he wrapped his arm around you and drove you to his home. Kissing on his bed, he hugged you tightly afterward as you shushed him to sleep.

[ange1s]

cherry emoji - mark lee

synopsis: in which mark asks to see your boobs, and the idea you had of your relationship is thrown up in the air.

wc: 3.6k

genre: this is so fluffy it hurts, some angst but nothing crazy

tw: suggestive themes (boobs), swearing

playlist: pluto projector by rex orange county, ivy by frank ocean, tapestry by bruno major

a/n: guess whos back ,, back again ,,, ange1s back ,,, tell a friend,,,, also this is unedited so i'm sorry if theres a mistake :')

my anon asks are open !! feel free to ask me anything or request something <3

“i have a weird question.” mark says timidly. you’re sat on the floor, your back against his bed playing a rhythm game on your phone. he is sat at his desk, parallel to his bed, but with the rolling chair swivelled around to face you straight ahead. you don’t look up.

“hmm.” you hum, focused on the game.

mark swallows. “can i see your boobs?”

you drop your phone into your lap, forgetting about the game. you look up at him, straight into his eyes, and you giggle.

“wait, what?”

mark avoids your eyes almost fearfully, as if you were a detective questioning him for a crime. “can i see your boobs?” softer, this time.

you let out a shallow laugh. “don’t you watch porn? there are boobs there.”

mark blushes. “no! i mean, yes i do, but not real boobs.”

you cross your arms under your boobs on purpose, just to push them up a little higher to drive him nuts. mark sits back in his chair in frustration.

“so you think women aren’t real? that all boobs in porn are fake? jeez mark i thought you cared about women-“

“no! that’s not what i meant!” he says, exasperated. he continues to avoid eye contact with you. “of course i don’t think-“

you laugh again, keeling over. “relax mark, i know you don’t think all women are plastic.”

“look, there’s nothing wrong with being plastic, women can do whatever they-“ mark speaks quickly and nervously as if he were on trial.

“shut up minhyung,” you cut him off with a softer, more serious tone. “why do you want to see my boobs? you’re famous and cute. you could instantly find boobs wherever you go.”

he chuckles. “the word boob is so funny.”

“not the point, minhyung!”

he leans back over, the embarrassment slowly washing away. “stop calling me minhyung!”

“never, minhyung!” you retort without even thinking. you stand up to sit on his bed, now at eye level with him. “now, explain.”

“i… i dunno. i’ve just never seen boobs before. like, in person.”

you look directly at him, brain not even thinking anymore. words just fly out of your mouth with ease. “were you breastfed?”

“y/n!” he exclaims out of frustration. the embarrassment fizzles back in. he throws his head to the back of his chair and covers his eyes with his palm dramatically. he runs his hand down his face, tugging on the soft skin as it travels down. as his hand makes it back down to his lap, you giggle a little louder. “my mom’s boobs don’t fucking count. god, you made me think of my mom’s boobs. what the fuck?”

“sorry,” you manage in between giggles. “sorry, this is so funny.”

“this is impossible. i knew i shouldn’t have asked you.” mark pulls himself out of the chair and heads for the door, but you’re just as fast as him.

“now wait…” you grab his wrist to keep him from leaving. a wave of guilt washes over you. “i was just kidding.”

“were you? you didn’t sound like you were.” he says, his face still turned away from yours.

he sounds strangely hurt. “mark, are you okay?”

mark turns to face you and he looks defeated. he slumps down on the floor next to you, his knees up near his chest and his head in his hands.

“mark…”

“they were making fun of me.”

“who?”

“my friends! they were making fun of me. god, i sound like such an idiot now, whining about my friends like this, oh my god. i sound like a child.”

you rest your elbow on his shoulder giving your hand access to run through his soft, black hair. “you don’t sound like a child. you’re allowed to get upset.”

you take note at how the air shifted in the room. how quickly you focused and listened. you’re only like this around mark. with him, conversations can shift in an instant to anything. you understand each other on a deep, personal level. it’s something you don’t think you’ll ever have with another person for your entire life. maybe your soulmate. honestly? you can only dream to have this sort of connection with your soulmate, a connection so alive and so full of trust. is it even possible to have this with someone else? the fact that mark can make you think about how much he trusts you during a conversation about boobs is something only mark can make you feel. no one else. just him.

has it always been just him?

“it’s so stupid though. one minute lucas is bugging me about the fact that i’m a virgin and i’ve never seen boobs before and the next minute i’m on the floor of my bedroom with you, still not having seen any boobs mind you, nearly crying. damn. this is the lowest point i will ever reach.”

you push his hands away from his face and place your hands on his cheeks instead. “mark, please don’t cry. i hate it when you cry.”

the last time you saw mark cry was a month ago after watching a disney movie. seeing him cry just makes you cry, and since you were already crying, you just cried harder. seeing you cry makes him cry too, so he cried harder as well. the two of you just cried together until your heads hurt, to which you both took tylenols and tried to dance it off.

“i’m pathetic. insecure and pathetic.”

this is when you realize that there is more depth to his feelings than you thought.

“look, mark, i’ll show you my boobs. i trust you. i’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen them accidentally yet since i’ve known you for so long.” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. didn‘t work. “but i get the feeling that there’s more to this then just boobs.”

mark never really vented to you like this before. despite how close you are, he still kept things from you growing up, as a teenage boy does. you never took offense to this, as you kept plenty from him too. he never quite talked about his insecurities, his fears. he didn’t want to burden you with them. mark, so sweet and thoughtful. maybe too much for his own good. he needs to learn to share things.

he's starting to, though.

it takes him a while to speak, avoiding your eyes entirely. he speaks lowly, as if he was scared to tell the world what he was about to say.

“it’s just… everything about this sucks. everything. i’m kinda scared to tell you things, which can make us drift apart because we lose trust. then again, if i do tell you things, i’m scared it’ll freak you out and i’ll lose you. those are both bad endings. then, i’m scared to put myself out into the world. like, lucas is telling me to just find someone. go out, ask for a number, have a good time, live like someone in their 20s should be living. i can’t really do it though. every time i try, i choke. lucas once tried to set me up, you remember that, right?”

“yeah, that was the girl who stood you up.”

“yeah. it’s awful. every time i try it fails. i’ve been trying to get to the bottom of why it fails every single time but i just couldn’t. but then, i realized.” he shifts and faces you causing your hands to fall off his face and into your lap. “when i came home after being stood up, i wasn’t sad. i forgot the moment i left the restaurant. i texted lucas that the date didn’t happen and just shut my phone off and went to your place. i wasn’t sad because i knew i had you. i knew that you were going to make me feel better and that made it all go away.” he pauses. “you know? sometimes i get worried that i put too much on you. you’re my happiness, my relaxation, my joy. i worry sometimes that you’ll suffocate because i take so much from being with you. i keep this in the back of my head all the time because i just don’t want you to go. ever.”

holy shit.

“mark…”

“let me finish. i talked about this with lucas, and he told me that i can let myself be selfish sometimes. he said that i can want this that… that i can want you. i can think about you and how you make me happy and i can want that happiness yesterday, today, and tomorrow, and the day after. shit, i care about you more than anything. my heart swells and my stomach gets all these annoying little butterflies when i think of you. it’s fucking crazy. and now, today, here i am. you know, lucas, jaemin and i were talking about girls and boobs and fuck i don’t know, jaemin said that i just had to get that intimacy with someone. and it just fucking clicked. the only person i want to be intimate with is you and i’m thinking now that maybe i was stupid for asking to see your boobs. which is so stupid, i could’ve just asked to kiss you or share a bed with you or i don’t know. i’m really sorry if that was gross of me. i just wasn’t thinking. it’s so damn hard to think straight when it comes to you. i just really want to be closer to you, however that might be.”

your heart races at a speed that doctors would deem impossible. you don’t know what to think or where to look. you feel like you’re going to explode. though, if you explode, he’ll probably explode too. that wouldn’t be good.

mark looks down. he fills with regret. he doesn’t think he should've said that. maybe you'll hate him now. maybe you’ve never felt this way about him before.

you inhale slowly, trying to convince your lungs that breathing is normal and not something that can just stop when hearing speeches like this.

what is the proper thing to say? mark i love you? but do you love him? everything is so confusing right now. of course you love him, but you never considered love in this way. can i kiss you? too forward? but he wants intimacy, and you want it too. i feel the same way? boring. you can do better. mark, and his way with words. so beautiful. how do you compete? mark, you’re beautiful. mark is so beautiful. you try so hard to compose the words. maybe too hard. maybe it’s okay to go with option 3.

now, they just flow out. “mark… i think i feel the same way you do. i don’t know it’s just- i’ve always felt some sort of way toward you. something is so special about you. i spent years trying to decipher it, thinking it was just something platonic or brotherly or i dunno. i just never considered… this. i don’t even know what to call this. but it feels right. you’ve always felt right.”

he has. and he always will. he looks at you so lovingly, his enamoured gaze stuck on you. you can’t look up at him, but he watches you.

you continue. “fuck, i don’t know what to say. i’m so… god.” you run your fingers through your hair, as if to comb your brain in search for the right words. “i think you’re so beautiful. everything about you. and i’m so fucking grateful to have someone as amazing as you in my life. i don’t know what i did to deserve someone like you, and i feel like i really don’t deserve you. but it feels right. to be with you. to be alone with you. it’s just right.”

you let a little tear trickle down your cheek. you know if you look up at him, you’ll probably cry harder. you know this well, yet you look up.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you either.” mark sighs. it’s his turn to wipe your tears now.

“so… what is this? what… are we?” you ask, melting into his hand, which somehow feels softer on your face.

“i don’t know. we can be whatever you want us to be.”

you playfully punch his shoulder, his hands sliding off your cheeks. “come on, you know i hate it when you say that.”

he gets defensive. “and you know i hate it when you hit me! you have a strong hand, yanno? shit!”

you laugh at him, clearing the last unwanted tear off your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “what can i say? gained strength from all those pillow fights over the years.”

“yeah, pillow fights i won.”

“shut up! you know i won the one at jeno’s party!”

mark laughs aloud. your favourite sound. “yeah, because everyone was drunk and you were still on your second drink. it was a very unevenly matched fight!”

“i still won!” you cross your arms and sit up straight as if you assert dominance over the conversation. who are you kidding? it’s all a joke anyways.

you crack after a moment and both of you erupt in a fit of giggles. his head falls into the crook of your neck, and it feels right. it’s almost as if your skin buzzed. you don’t know why, he’s done this many times before. but now, it’s different. the air has shifted again, so quickly. only with mark.

when he comes off of your neck, you stand up. you walk up to the door of his room, and lock it.

“y/n, what-“

you sit on his bed. “can’t have someone walk in while you’re ogling at my boobs, right? i know you and you’d never be able to live that down.”

mark is quick to stand up in defence. “what? no, we don’t have to do that anymore. i said my piece and im over the boob thing and-“

“shut up mark. you know you want to. and i kinda wanna show you too.”

he sits down on the bed across from you without another word but before either of you can move, he speaks again. “wait, kinda? please don’t feel obligated. only do this if you’re-“

“minhyung, please! i want to, ok? i really appreciate how you’re taking care of me but it’s fine. i trust you, and you trust me, right?”

he swallows hard. “right.”

“okay, perfect.” you pull your shirt off over your head, leaving you in your bra. if this was with any other boy, you’d be self conscious about literally everything: the bra you chose, the shape of your body, the hair in the places you let grow out. with mark, none of it matters now. he’s seen you in bathing suits before, this isn’t much different. and knowing how much he cares for you anyways, you know his head is clouded with praise and nothing less. his brain is working so fast right now, he probably won’t even register any imperfections.

“can i take your bra off?” mark sputters out as if he were holding onto the words for hours. “or wait, fuck-“

“yes, you can.”

he is almost shocked at your answer, and it shows. mark’s hands move slowly, his skin slightly cold as he grazes your skin. he leans in unbelievably close to wrap his arms around you to reach your back. he feels your breath on his chin, and your beautiful eyes look so sweet as you look up at him. when he finds the clasp, he kisses your nose as he pulls away, your bra coming back with him. you straighten your arms so the straps fall right off, showing your boobs.

mark is shocked. flabbergasted, even. his jaw almost drops in a shameless, teenaged boy way.

“dang. they’re so cute.”

you scoff. “cute? first boobs of your life and all you have to say is cute?”

“well what else can i say? i am not very well versed in the vast vocabulary that exists to describe your boobs.” he chuckles. “jeez, why is the word boob so fucking funny?”

you can’t help but smile timidly alongside him. that is what mark does, he makes you feel safe no matter what the situation. mark is always worried about you, worried if you are feeling comfortable and if you are okay with what is going on. he never wants things to be tense when you are around, because he hates to see you upset.

right now, you are the opposite of upset.

“y/n,” he brings your attention back to him. you hum in response. “can i touch?”

you freeze for a moment, and nod timidly. mark scoots a little bit closer, and reaches out with his right hand to gently cup your left breast. his hand is warm, and your skin needs a second to adjust to his temperature. he squeezes the flesh in the absolute slightest way, and quickly brings his hand back. he laughs almost exasperated.

“oh my god, it’s squishy? boobs are squishy?! why did that never register in my head?” he laughs loudly, as if he had just discovered something monumental.

“you’re just finding out now? oh my god mark, that’s common knowledge!”

mark looks down, his cheeks red from laughing. “dang, i’m so touch starved that i never knew until now that boobs are squishy. insanity.”

“the more you bring it up, the sadder it gets.” you reply.

he looks up at you with scrunched eyebrows. “don’t be mean. can i touch again?”

“yes, you can.”

mark cups your left boob with his right hand again, this time running his thumb softly over the supple skin. he doesn’t know what his limits are yet. can he go further? can he touch other parts of your boobs? can he touch other parts of your body? he is scared of going too fast and scaring you. mark is doing his very best today to be as careful as possible, as this is probably, remarkably, the best day of his life so far.

he pushes his index finger into your boob gently to poke it, and you laugh softly. at this point, you are just looking down at mark’s hand on your body. honestly, the fact that he isn’t doing anything is almost relaxing.

you look at how slowly his finger moves, like your skin is made up of the most delicate material in the world. he holds you with such care, such control. it is a feeling you want to feel again, and again, and again.

mark inhales slowly. he wants to go further. he wants more. he doesn’t know how you feel yet, but he will wait for you every step of the way.

but just as he opens his mouth, he hears a thud on his door. “mark hyung, we’re home! is y/n here? come eat with us!”

you both jump, as jaemin’s loud voice destroys the entire atmosphere. mark turns a cute shade of pink almost immediately, and takes his hand off of your skin. you are surprised at first, but lose all tension as you watch mark’s reaction. the poor boy is so embarrassed, but even more upset at how shortly your time was cut off. you laugh as he grabs your bra and tries to put it back on you. unfortunately, he cannot figure out how to close the back shut.

“i’m here! we’ll be there in a sec.” you shout, sparing mark from saying something stupid. you clip your bra straps together, and pull your shirt back on.

mark looks upset. “i’m so sorry they cut us off. they were supposed to be out all day, fuck. i’m sorry-”

“mark, baby, it’s okay. you didn’t know. besides, this isn’t ending here.”

mark looks up at you. “baby?”

“oh gosh, i don’t know where that came from. i’m sorry.”

“no no, its cute. i like it. baby. it just…”

“makes sense?”

he nods. “yeah. this makes sense. it really does.”

mark’s heart pounds in his chest as he takes your hands in his. today, they feel softer, warmer. he inhales sharply once again, hoping this time jaemin doesn’t break his door down, or something of the sort.

his thumb does the thing again, rubbing your skin gently. “y/n, i don’t want to be friends anymore. i think we are more than friends.”

you smile. “i do too. this makes sense.”

mark feels like he is going to explode. that would be bad though, because if he exploded, you would too. that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

“so i guess you’re my girlfriend now.”

you giggle softly. “that sounds so much better than best friend.”

“dang, it kinda does, doesn’t it?”

you let go of his hands and climb off his bed. he follows instantly after you do. right before you go to unlock the door, mark takes your hand once again, and turns you to face him.

you heart races as you lock eyes with him. you cannot believe everything that happened today. how your best friend, who you’d known for your whole life, confessed everything he felt for you, and poked your boobs mere minutes after. and that’s okay, because that’s mark. your mark.

“do we have to go down? i really want to see your boobs again.”

you lean over and place a kiss on his cheek, which causes him to lose his train of thought completely. “you’ll see them again soon, i promise. but if we don’t go down, jaemin will come upstairs and try opening your door. you know him, he’ll freak out when he sees that it’s locked. we’d get found out before we even have a chance to start.”

mark sighs. “fine. no more boobs today. guess i’ll just have to suffer without your boobs in my hands. shit, how am i going to survive?”

you unlock the door, and twist the handle. “well baby, i guess you’ll have to figure it out.”

[cherienymphe]

Mistakes of the Heart (Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, murder, violence, arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity, mafia!Steve, mafia!Bucky, jealous!Steve, BUCKY X READER

DNI IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

➥ Final part to Regrets of Yesterday

summary: your arranged marriage to the infamous Steve Rogers isn’t what you initially thought it would be, but things have worked out better than you could have imagined. However, your arrangement with your husband becomes complicated when feelings, and circumstances, that neither of you anticipated come into play.

~

Steve pulled out of you, and you winced, heart racing at the predicament you found yourself in. You were a little in shock, having a hard time wrapping your head around what had just happened. Your eyes widened when Steve grabbed his gun after getting dressed, shaking as he told you to do the same.

“…what-what are you going to do?”

He threw you a cold look and getting the hint that he wasn’t going to repeat himself, you put your dress back on. You could feel him between your legs, dripping down your thighs, and disgust filled you. You didn’t have a chance to think about that anymore before Steve fisted his hand in your hair, yanking you up just as Bucky’s panicked voice called your name. You knew then that he’d seen Jarvis’ body.

You stumbled as Steve dragged you along, your nails digging into his skin, but he paid your resistance no mind. The two of you appeared at the top of the stairs just as Bucky took the first step to ascend them, and his eyes widened at the sight of Steve. He was confused, that much was clear, but one look at your face had his jaw clenching.

“Steve…”

Steve pulled you closer.

“…Bucky.”

“Did you kill my housekeeper?”

“I did. I figured he’d get in my way,” your husband told him, and your eyes pleaded with Bucky as they met his.

It was clear he’d noticed the gun in Steve’s hand, and you grew nervous when he took a step towards you.

“Let her go. I’m sure we can talk about whatever your problem is without your hand fisted in her hair,” he sneered.

“Sorry, Buck, but I’m taking my wife home,” Steve told him, tightening his grip.

“She’s not your fucking wife-.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. We’re not divorced, and I want my wife at home with me.”

Steve descended the stairs, pulling you along with him, and you shook your head when you saw Bucky reach for his own gun. He looked conflicted, torn between listening to you and attempting to shoot Steve before he shot him.

“Bucky, please…”

You would rather endure Steve for just a little bit longer if it meant that Bucky wouldn’t get hurt. You would rather he live to see another day to deal with this rather than rashly doing something now that would get him killed. Reluctantly, Bucky took a step back, and you didn’t miss the smirk Steve threw him as he walked past. Steve didn’t leave his back to him as he neared the door, and he waved his gun towards Jarvis.

“You might want to do something about that before he stains the carpet.”

Your struggle was renewed the minute you were outside, only pausing when he forced you into the limo. You slapped him as soon as he shut the door, and he glared at you, jaw ticking as he stared you down.

“I hate you,” you forced through trembling lips. “I hate you so much.”

Only the slight twitch in his cheek indicated that he was bothered by your words, but you didn’t care. You sat back, hand on your stomach as you looked away from him. Your chest was tight the whole ride, tears blurring your vision and wetting your cheeks, but neither one of you said another word to each other.

Steve’s grip was rough as he pulled you out of the car, and you stumbled more than once, wincing. You snatched yourself out of his hold as soon as you were inside, back inside of the place you never thought you’d set foot in again. It looked exactly the same, and that brought you no comfort.

“Get cleaned up.”

You threw him a look, but Steve wasn’t even looking at you. He was taking off his jacket and, getting the sense that he wasn’t going to say anything else, you turned towards the stairs. You could feel his eyes on you as you ascended them, and you clutched your stomach. Under the impression that things would remain as they were, you made your way to your old room.

You were surprised to find it completely changed. It was now a nursery, the colors in a gender-neutral pastel green, and your heart skipped a beat. You frowned, disgust and confusion warring within you as you wondered just how long he’d been planning this. You heard Steve’s footsteps, and you whirled around to face him.

“What the hell is this?”

He grabbed your arm as he passed, pulling you along.

“What does it look like?”

“Have you lost your mind? Do you honestly think I will still be here by the time this baby comes?”

He didn’t answer, opting instead for pulling you into his room. You had never stepped foot in it, never desired to, and you were surprised when he pulled you into a closet on the far side of the room, forcing you to come face to face with a room full of feminine clothes. Part of you wondered if he was really going to put you in the clothes of one of his mistresses or something, but you paused when you noticed that a good number of them were maternity clothes.

You took a shaky breath as he nudged you further into the closet, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“Why are you doing this?” you demanded, looking at him.

He simply turned away, and your frustration grew.

“Get cleaned up and put on something nice, then come downstairs and join me for dinner,” was his only reply.

You heaved an exasperated sigh the minute he was gone. You knew that Bucky wasn’t going to waste any time before coming up with a plan to make Steve let you go, but you didn’t want him to put his life in danger. It was crazy to think that the two were best friends, and yet, Steve didn’t look like he’d hesitate to shoot him. You’d had no idea, never could have guessed that he’d had this much animosity towards yours and Bucky’s relationship.

How could you?

Steve hadn’t just ignored your existence until it was convenient for him during your marriage, but he’d acted as if you were a burden. He didn’t even like you as a human being, let alone romantically. You wondered if you could talk Steve out of this. Surely the man was going through a midlife crisis or something. With that thought, you made your way to the bathroom to wash the feel and stench of Steve off of you. You found a simple maternity dress in the closet, disturbed at how well it fit.

Not wanting to bring on anymore of Steve’s wrath, you were quick to make your way to the dining room. Steve was waiting for you, murmuring something to the cook when you arrived. You were disappointed to see your plate next to him on his left as he sat at the head of the table. You hesitantly sat down next to him, avoiding his eye as you eyed the healthy baby safe food before you.

“I hope you like it,” he said. “I made Gwen research healthy recipes for expecting moms.”

“Why are you doing this?” you sighed out, repeating yourself.

You didn’t want to play along in this horrible game. Steve’s jaw clenched as he looked at you, seemingly upset that you weren’t going to do just that. He sat his utensils down with a sigh.

“I told you…I want you here with me,” he said, reaching for your hand.

You snatched it away, trembling hand falling to your lap as you glared at him.

“Husband and wife and the husband’s several mistresses…how romantic,” you sarcastically threw out.

Steve leaned back in his chair.

“It won’t be like that,” he told you, and you laughed.

“You expect me to believe that you just…gave it all up? Do you remember the things you said to me the last time we saw each other?”

The hardening of his eyes told you that he did, but you continued anyway.

“Let me remind you. You accused me of coming up with some grand scheme to force your hand. The idea that I genuinely didn’t want to be with you anymore was so outlandish to you that the only possible explanation was a trick on my part.”

You chuckled, finding genuine humor in the situation.

“I don’t know if you just think that highly of yourself or maybe you think so lowly of me to think I’d ever beg a man to stay faithful to me, but it was hurtful. You were completely malicious, accusing me of jealousy and telling me to suck it up and make the most of my miserable life-.”

“I know what I said,” Steve snapped. “I don’t need a recap from you.”

“Well, you’re going to get one. You are going to sit here and listen to what I have to say!”

He glared at you, something unrecognizable in his eye, and you returned the gesture.

“You are not a good husband, Steve. You’re not even a good man. I accepted our marriage for what it was. Truth be told, I was very happy with our little arrangement, and if you had come to me to tell me that you wanted a real marriage, that you wanted both of us to only be with each other…I would have laughed in your face.”

Steve’s jaw ticked, and you sneered at him.

“I would have laughed at the sheer audacity. Now somehow, after misleading me into thinking we were divorced, after killing Jarvis, after raping me…you think I’d ever entertain this? I want nothing to do with you, so…” you leaned back in your seat. “Tell me what I have to do in order for you to let me go…”

Steve smirked.

“I’m not letting you go. I know you think this is all one big joke-.”

“Because it has to be! What do you want? A baby? Do you want me to publicly humiliate myself to salvage your own image after the divorce?”

“I want you here with me,” he said, tone leaving no room for arguments. “We’re not getting a divorce.”

You didn’t listen.

“…and my son?”

You watched as Steve’s brows furrowed, a frown taking over at the reveal of your baby’s gender. He slowly exhaled.

“I’ll raise him as my own. That should be my son, anyway,” he added.

You didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice, and you sneered at him.

“He isn’t your son though. He’s Bucky’s,” you told him, taking great satisfaction in the way his face clouded over. “You really expect me to believe that you’ll just…overlook that? Raise him like he’s yours even though he isn’t?”

He didn’t respond, and you continued.

“What will happen when he looks nothing like you? How will you really react when you stare into the face that’s the perfect mix of me and your best friend? As a matter of fact, how in the world are you going to do business with said friend now? You truly didn’t think about any-.”

Your words died in your throat when Steve wrapped his hand around it, chair falling over as he stood to tower over you. You simply stared at him, jaw clenching as he glared down at you, blue eyes stormy with rage.

“You can rile me up as much as you like. You can use every trick in the book to remind me why this isn’t a good idea, but I don’t care. You are mine,” he spat through clenched teeth.

He suddenly let you go, and you sharply inhaled. Tears kissed your eyes as he sat back down, returning to his food like nothing had happened.

“I should have done things differently, I will acknowledge that, but I can only make up for it now. So…”

He reached over to wipe away a stray tear, a smirk dancing along his pink lips.

“We are not getting a divorce. As far as everyone knows, that baby is mine, as is his mother. There won’t be anyone else from here on out, only you.”

You turned your head away from him with a frown.

“You’ll learn to be happy with me as you were with him. Now, finish your dinner before it gets cold…”

Resigned to accept his words until you, or Bucky, could come up with a plan, you did as he said.

The hardest part, the true test, came later that night. Even though clothes that were meant for you were located in a closet in his master bedroom, it didn’t occur to you that he expected you to sleep there.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “There are at least 3 other rooms in this house. There’s no reason I have to lie next to you.”

You and Steve had been staring each other down for minutes. You’d almost thrown up once you realized where he intended for you to sleep and sleeping without Bucky at your side was one thing but sleeping next to the man who’d ruined your life was something else entirely. Steve seemed to be out of patience, and you fought against him as he reached for you.

He was firm with you, but somehow still careful, and you gasped when you found yourself on the bed. Holding you down with his body, Steve reached over to turn out the light, drowning the room in darkness. Overwhelmed with everything, you couldn’t stop the tears from collecting in your eyes, a quiet sob escaping.

You fought against him, but eventually, you found your back to his front with his arm tightened around you. Your shoulders shook with quiet sobs, stomach churning when you felt his lips against the back of your neck. You didn’t want to fall asleep, you didn’t trust Steve as far as you could throw him, but your body betrayed you.

Between the events of the day, your physical exertion from fighting with Steve, and your pregnancy, sleep claimed you whether you welcomed it or not. You dreamed of Bucky, apparently saying his name in your sleep, something you only figured out when you woke up to the feel of Steve sliding into you.

You gasped, hand reaching up to grab his wrist, one hand on your neck while the other rested on your stomach. The soft rays of sunlight were gradually brightening the room, and tears collected in your eyes with every thrust. His breath on the back of your neck made you cringe, and you pushed your elbow into his stomach.

“Steve,” you protested, moving to get away from him but he had you in a tight hold, chest pressing into your back.

“Be grateful I’m going easy on you,” he murmured, breathing labored. “You think I like to wake up to my wife calling another man’s name?”

You couldn’t even speak, chest tight, a sob caught in your throat as he brushed his lips over your cheek.

“I want to wake up like this every morning…coming inside of my beautiful wife,” he groaned.

You couldn’t even register the fact that that was the first time he’d ever complimented you. You squirmed against him, core throbbing under the ministrations of his relentless cock. You wanted to get as far away from him as possible, and Steve seemed to only want to get closer.

“…the only thing that would make this better is if I had put that baby in you myself,” he breathed, groaning against your skin as he spilled into you.

He remained still for a moment, the only sound in the room that of your labored breaths. You were shaking, fear and disgust filling you, and he eventually pulled away. You could feel the mess he’d made between your thighs, and you laid there, face wet as he moved to get ready for the day.

You didn’t leave the bed until long after he’d gone, parting with a kiss on your cheek. You felt dirty when you sat up, and it took everything in you to get up and shower. You cried the entire time, and when you exited the room, you were met with a quiet mansion. You knew the staff was around though because fresh breakfast was waiting for you when you entered the dining room.

You ate alone, nibbling at your food as you forced yourself to eat despite your lack of appetite. When you were done, despite your suspicions, you tried the front door anyway. It was locked from the outside somehow. Every other entrance was no different. You couldn’t even get the windows to budge. You had made your way to Steve’s office, a room you had never set foot in, only to find it locked as well. You had kicked the door in frustration, telling yourself not to cry.

It seemed you had no choice but to wait for Steve.

This went on for days. The staff practically ignored your existence as they cooked for you, and you sat around waiting for Steve to return. You two would argue, even resorting to begging him to let you go, but he never budged. It would trickle into dinner, sometimes ending the affair early, and he would proceed to take his anger out on you.

He fucked you until you were on the verge of sleep, paying no mind to your tears and pleas. Sometimes, he woke you up the same way. Only 4 days after he’d taken you, there was a pounding on the front door. You could hear it all the way upstairs where you were avoiding Steve, and you slowly made your way down the hall. You were around the corner, looking down into the entrance as Steve opened the door, only for your eyes to widen as Bucky forced himself inside.

“Where is she?”

You watched as Steve reached out to stop your fiancé, but Bucky shook him off. Neither of them had noticed your presence.

“I’ve offered you shares, all of the money I have, hell, even my business, but you’re being as stubborn as ever. I’m done trying to negotiate. Where is she, Steve?”

The two men glared at one another, and you swallowed, about to make your presence known when Bucky continued.

“I know it kills you that she wasn’t as miserable with your arrangement as you grew to be. I know it kills you even more that I was the man she turned to, that I’m the father of her child, but she chose me…so deal with it,” Bucky said, sounding all kinds of exasperated.

“You have no right to her-.”

“She’s a person, Steve! Not one of your possessions you can hide away from the world,” Bucky sneered.

“She is still my wife. That isn’t going to change, and you are trespassing,” Steve snapped.

“You don’t even love her!”

Your heart clenched as you watched the way Bucky’s face twisted, nostrils flaring as he frowned at your husband. His chest heaved, and he threw up his hands, a scoff escaping him as he shook his head at the blond.

“You don’t even love her,” he quietly repeated. “You don’t know what it’s like to love her, and what’s worse is that…I don’t believe you even want to. You just don’t want her to be with anyone else.”

You gripped the railing, carefully moving downstairs, drawing Bucky’s attention before Steve could say anything. Steve followed Bucky’s gaze and moved before he could. You both called Steve’s name as he blocked you from each other, but you were screaming it with wide eyes only seconds later when Steve pulled out his gun, forcing it into your mouth while he curled his fingers around the back of your neck.

You couldn’t see Bucky from your angle, but you heard the way he paused, heard his breath hitch. Your own heart froze, fear seizing you as Steve tightened his hold. You were too afraid to even swallow, and tears kissed your eyes as you blinked.

“You’re right, Buck. I don’t want anyone else to have her, and if you keep pushing me, I’ll make it so that no one does.”

Steve’s voice was cold, not just icy, but venomous too, and something in you told you that he was serious. That he wasn’t just trying to scare Bucky into leaving, scare you into staying. You truly believed that Steve would kill you just so no one else could have you. There was brief silence, thick with tension, before Bucky eventually spoke.

“This isn’t over, Steve.”

Steve took a step back, taking you with him, and you clutched your stomach.

“This is far from over, and if I find out that you harmed her in any way, this will be more than just a severed friendship. I’ll hunt you down like you’re my worst enemy,” Bucky sneered, sounding like the complete opposite of what you were used to.

“That’s all very touching, but you’re still in my house…and I still have a gun in her mouth.”

You could hear your fiancé’s harsh breaths before eventually, and reluctantly, moving towards the door. Steve only took the gun out when Bucky exited, but you felt no relief. Stomach churning, you couldn’t prevent your food from coming up, and your throat protested as you threw up at your feet. Steve reached for you, and you shoved him away.

You stumbled towards the door, ignoring him as he called your name. You knew he wouldn’t let you walk out, at least not alive, but that didn’t stop you from collapsing at the door, leaning your head against the expensive wood. Your vision was blurry as the tears finally spilled over, chest tight as you fought not to cry harder. You heard him approach you, standing in the entrance to the foyer as he watched your huddled form. You don’t know how long you sat there crying, nor how long he stood there…just watching you, but eventually you spoke.

“You could have any woman you want,” you whispered. “You could have any woman who would be happy to be with you.”

You turned to look at him, eyes puffy and lips trembling.

“…but it’s me you choose to torment. My life you choose to ruin.”

Steve’s jaw ticked, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was offended. His blue eyes flashed with something you couldn’t name, and you glowered at him.

“I know that deep down, you don’t actually care about whether or not I love you. I know that my staying with you is what matters most,” you started.

You pulled your thighs to your stomach, resting your hands on your knees as he stared at you.

“So allow me to make myself clear in terms that you’ll understand, Steve. You can lock me away until I give birth. Hell, you can do so until I get pregnant and give birth again, but it will never make a difference because I will never want you.”

Steve straightened, looking down his nose at you as he fingered the gun in his hand.

“I will never desire you, I will never need you, I will never even dream of you. Every time you kiss me, I will imagine its Bucky. Every time you touch me, I will wish it is his hands instead. Every time I am far too quiet, and you find yourself wondering ‘what she’s thinking about’, know that I am thinking about Bucky. When you watch me in my sleep like I know you do, know that I am dreaming about him. It will always be him.”

The silence was deafening, and for a moment, you wondered if he was going to shoot you and be done with it. However, despite the fact that Steve’s face had clouded over, fearfully so, he simply took a step back before walking away, leaving you alone to lean your head back against the door.

It was late in the night when you were roused from sleep by a noise that passed through the many rooms of Steve’s mansion. You were surprised that you’d woken up at all. Steve may not have reacted to your words then and there, but he was sure to let you know how he really felt once night came. You had cried yourself to sleep like you did every night since he’d taken you, and even now, your body still ached rom his harsh grip, cum dried between your thighs.

You thought that you were imagining things, but when you heard it again, you carefully slid out from Steve’s hold. The house was quiet, the soft carpet cushioning your steps. You slid your hand along the wall, the other clutching your stomach as you picked up on another noise. Nervous and afraid, you reached out to turn on the hallway light only to realize that it didn’t work. Pausing, you noted that the house was colder, and you knew then that the power was out.

You wouldn’t dare attempt to go down the stairs, but even if the power were working, something in you told you not to. You discovered why when moments later, multiple gunshots could be heard, quickly followed by the sound of breaking glass. You flinched, stumbling back against the wall as multiple things became clear at once. Several people were breaking into the house, they were armed, and Steve was awake and calling your name.

Taking advantage of the sudden chaos, you slipped into a nearby room, shutting the door just as Steve’s voice filled the hallway. You hurried towards the closet, shutting yourself inside as your mind whirled. Several of Steve’s own men stayed on the property, just not in the main building, and it wasn’t long before you heard different kinds of guns join the fray. You didn’t exactly know what was happening, and you smoothed your hand along your swollen stomach in an effort to calm yourself.

You could still faintly hear Steve calling your name, but it eventually faded away, and you surmised that he went downstairs. You briefly wondered if this was Bucky’s doing, and you frowned, wondering why that hadn’t initially occurred to you. Of course, you knew that he was in the same business as Steve, knew of the ugly side he never allowed you to see, and that was precisely why the idea that Bucky was behind this was a foreign one. A shocking one.

Still, in case it wasn’t, you cursed yourself for not searching for something to protect yourself with. You knew where Steve kept his guns, and you would feel much safer with one right now. That thought only increased when you heard the bedroom door open. You were no longer alone, and the other person in the room was just as quiet as you were. The commotion going on was louder now, and you reached out to grip the wall when you heard the bathroom door open.

You could faintly see light from beneath the closed door, and the way it moved told you that it was a flashlight. You could feel your stomach churning, fear and confusion and anxiety filling you. The stranger in the room had yet to say anything, give any sort of indication as to who they were. Your heart dropped when the closet door swung open, and a blinding light filled your vision. You squinted, unable to see a thing and wondered if you were going to be met with your death or another assault and kidnapping.

You were met with a third option.

“Doll?”

You didn’t have time to feel relief before familiar arms pulled you into a warm chest. A bit dazed and in shock, you absentmindedly pressed your fingers into his back, wide eyes staring ahead. You hadn’t even realized that you were trembling until Bucky started rocking you.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. I’m here now,” he whispered.

“I thought-.”

“I know.”

“Steve-?”

“Outside. That was the last time I saw him,” he answered.

You breathed him in and felt him do the same before he started walking backwards, taking you with him. The room was bathed in darkness once again, and he maneuvered you so that you were behind him as he moved to make his way out. His hand was tight on yours as he weaved through the halls gun first. You gasped when he led you down the stairs, the recognizable shapes of bodies on the floor even in the darkness.

One of his cars, one of the bulletproof ones, was parked further down the driveway. His steps were hurried as he pushed you in front of him, and as you neared the car, you thought to yourself that this seemed too easy. Nothing involving Steve was ever easy, and you were disappointed to be proven right.

You fell to the ground when Bucky was shoved against the car, landing on your back. You winced, and the sound of fists meeting bone reached your ears just as the unmistakable sound of a gun hitting the ground did too. With a struggle, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, watching as Bucky slammed his fist into Steve’s nose, the two of them on the ground before you.

Ignoring the pain in your back, you looked around, eyes zeroing in on the black weapon not far away. You forced yourself to your feet, quickly wrapping your hand around it. Steve was on top of Bucky now, slamming your fiancé’s head into the ground, and you didn’t hesitate. Steve fell against the side of the car, face twisted into pain from the bullet wound in his back.

His blue eyes met yours, and you felt no remorse as he struggled to stand. You could hear Bucky pushing himself to his feet, and you hurried to his side. You wiped the blood from his face, swallowing when he slid the gun from your grip. You pressed yourself against him, shaking your head.

“He’s not worth it-.”

“He won’t stop,” he argued, teeth clenched.

“He’ll have no choice. He’ll never find us if we leave. Killing him will start something neither one of us want to be involved in,” you told him.

You could see the conflict on Bucky’s face, and you knew that he knew you were right. Everything would go to you, and many people would dispute that, claiming that you were unfit to run the business. Even worse, you could only imagine what people would think of you and Bucky publicly getting together after your husband’s death. They would suspect the worse, and they would be right. You’d make enemies out of people you had never even met.

With a sneer, Bucky opened the passenger door before ushering you in. You massaged your stomach as he slid into the driver’s seat, relief only filling you when the mansion started to grow smaller. You leaned back, the stress of the past few days getting to you. Bucky, sensing this, took your hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin. He brought it to his lips, a shaky breath escaping him.

“You don’t know the weight that’s been lifted off of my shoulders,” he whispered.

You could see that he was struggling to keep it together. The stress of seeing you get taken by Steve, powerless to stop him, and powerless again when he threatened your life and that of your son’s. You reached for his face with your free hand as he drove down the street, determined to put as much distance between you and Steve as possible.

“Hey…I’m okay,” you quietly told him, fingers ghosting over his cheek.

“…are you?”

You knew what he was asking, and you knew that if you had told him what really happened to you, he would have killed Steve on the spot. More so, you didn’t want Bucky to have to carry that burden, to blame himself for what Steve did to you. You brushed your thumb over his lips, sending him a small smile.

“I am now.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, Bucky’s soft breaths lulling you to sleep more than the purr of the vehicle. Steve was finally behind you, and although you weren’t as free of him as you would like to be, it seemed insignificant with Bucky and your son at your side.

 ~

tags:   @mcudarklibrary @sherrybaby14 @harryspet @xoxabs88xox @darkficreposter @opheliadawnwalker3 @honeychicanawrites  @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @readermia @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @buckybarnesplumwhore @quaksonhehe @nerdygirl8203 @patzammit @mandiiblanche @cocoamoonmalfoy @gotnofucks @alexakeyloveloki @vogueworthy-barnes @supraveng  @doozywoozy @ventinglation @oneoftheprettynerds​ @supernaturalwintersoldier​ @what-is-your-wish​ @vicmc624​ 

[hes-writer]

deja vu

Summary: part two of drivers license!

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1643 words

let me know if you liked it!

_____

If this was a movie, Y/N would’ve collapsed on the floor, knees hitting the ground as her legs lost the ability to keep her weight up. The corners of her lips would tilt downwards as a fusion of sadness and nostalgia bombarded her at every corner. Tears would collect at her waterline, waiting for the remarkable blink that would send each drop of salty liquid down the apples of her cheeks. Y/N imagined she would call Harry on her phone and scream at him as soon as the click sounded, signalling that he had picked up the call.

Yet as seconds passed by, none of those theatrical episodes happened.  Unlike in the movies, Y/N’s physical reactions were minuscule. Her heart ached in her chest. Her throat scrunched like a wad of tissue papers in her hand, drying up with shock and the shallow inhales she let out.  The swirling of her stomach increased tenfold as she teetered between feelings of anger and indifference.  This should not affect her anymore--or should it? It had barely been a few months since she last saw him and a little bit after when the first photos of Harry and his girlfriend went viral on the internet.

Everyone, especially him, seemed to move on from the relationship that they had shared.  Y/N felt like she needed to catch up to him, racing to throw away the feelings she still held for him and to pretend as though nothing happened.  But it was easier said than done.  There were still endless memories that replayed through her head every time she passed by an ice cream shop.  It was a hidden gem, past the popular hot spots.  Not a lot of people knew about it because of its distanced location.  And as much as Harry was a certified health nut; his guilty pleasure was a scoop of strawberry ice cream--in a cup instead of a waffle cone, of course.

Y/N still remembered those drives-turned-beach-trips.  It was mostly during his days off.  She and Harry would spend the whole day together, sharing one spoon amongst each other while they passed the cup of ice cream back and forth. The sound of the ocean encompassed them as they lay hidden around an alcove of rocks. It was a secluded area of the beach that Y/N had found way before.  The sand was grainy beneath the layer of a checkered picnic blanket that Harry kept at the trunk of his car, their bodies laying on top of it.  Eventually, Harry would proceed to just spoon-feed her, ‘accidentally’ nudging her nose with the cold treat.

.

.

.

.

Y/N could feel her shoulders slump at the flashback, body sagging as she sighed at what her phone screen was reflecting back to her.  It was her Instagram feed showcasing Harry’s profile. A picture of a haunting landscape was captured by his phone lens; it was the very same beach spot that she had taken him to.  Deja vu.

She bit her lip, wanting to smile about how he still visited it even without her.  It showed that Harry still kept a memory of her at the back of his mind.  Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, a sliver of hope shining through the dimness of her days. But it was impossible to keep an optimistic stance when she saw the caption.  A simple tag of his new girlfriend’s Instagram handle puckered her lips into a sour expression, brows pinching together in curiosity as Y/N continuously denied the obvious constituent of events.

“There’s no way,” She muttered, breath hitching as Y/N’s thumb hesitated on tapping the bolded font.

There was absolutely no way that Harry would bring someone else in such a coveted spot.  It was hers; she found it first and now he was acting as though it did not hold any meaning to her.  Not like Y/N didn’t spend the last few days laying on his lap, watching the sunset over the horizon. Harry’s fingers would comb through her tendrils, tucking his jacket tighter around her chin to ensure that she was warm despite him being covered in goosebumps himself. Y/N would look up to see the beginning stubbles of his facial hair as Harry looked ahead, his green eyes mirroring the artistic hues of orange, pink and purple.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Jenny asked, returning from her short trek to Y/N’s small kitchen. One hand was carrying a large bowl of chips while the other held two cans of soda.

Y/N stared at her friend with hesitance.  Was it worth bringing it up? She must be sick of her talking about him all the time.

“He brought her to our place,”

It was harder to hear it out loud.  She didn’t even recognize her own voice; void of emotion except for a strained sound of pain.

Jenny tilted her head to the side, “Who did?”

“Harry. . .” Y/N cleared her throat before continuing, ��There was this place I found in Malibu. At a beach.  It’s pretty hidden and I used to go there by myself whenever I needed to think. I took him there.  It was our place, you know? Somewhere only the two of us knew and I don’t know,” She trailed off.

“You thought he would keep it between you guys,” Jenny finished off, nodding her head in empathic comprehension.

“Yeah, it just sucks,” Y/N furrowed her brows, staring at the space in front of her as she took in the gravity of the situation. “He even took her to D’Campos,”

“The ice-cream shop?”

She nodded, “It was on her Instagram story today,”

“Forget about him, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your tears,”

“I’m not even crying,” She chuckled, slapping Jenny’s arm jokingly.

“You look like you’re about to,”

Y/N sighed, “It hurts.  Feels like he’s everywhere.  Just when I thought I was moving on, he pulls shit like this and I’m forced to remember how good it was between us, you know? I haven’t driven past D’Campos or anywhere else that I might see him because it hurts too much to reminisce what I don’t have anymore.”

It was ridiculous how much Y/N has had to change her routine in order not to feel any more pain.  She actively avoided places where Harry frequented in fear of confrontation and also because he might be with his girlfriend.  She didn’t know how she could stay stoic seeing their hands clasped together, gazing at each other lovingly when Y/N wanted that from him for herself.

“You’re doing just fine, honey.  Do you know who can’t move on? Him.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s doing fine,” Y/N said sarcastically, resting her back on the couch. “Better, even.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Jenny argued, “Out of the two of you, who’s the one always going to the places you shared?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but a swift hand in the air caused her to halt.

“It’s him, right?” Jenny answered rhetorically.  “I do not care what you say; that man misses you and it shows.  Harry’s going to where he expects you to be, probably in hopes of running into you. Maybe even because he wants to relive the moments you shared together with her in hopes of him feeling the same way he felt like when he did with you,”

“T-that’s insane. He’s fine without me,” Y/N stuttered out, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

“First of all, you are in denial. Secondly, you cannot tell me that he doesn’t. He’s practically doing everything you guys used to do with this new girl.  Why? Because he fucking misses you, Y/N.  Hell, you’ve even got the same name.”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“My ass,” Jenny scoffs, “Answer me something, do you still remember how it felt being there with him?”

Y/N nodded, “Always,”

“Describe it to me,”

Y/N squinted her eyes in suspicion. Where was Jenny going with this?

“Uh, as cheesy as it sounds, I felt happy and free. I could talk about anything without being judged.  He had a way of making me feel comfortable without even saying anything.  When we were together--wherever we were--I could be vulnerable about myself in front of him,”

“Would you do whatever it takes to feel that same way again?”

In a heartbeat, Y/N stated, “Without a doubt.”

“Tell me, if Harry asked you to meet him there right now, would you go?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a moment to process the question. She had just said that she would do whatever it takes to feel the same unconfined emotion again.  So why was she saying ‘no’?

“I-I wouldn’t,”

“Exactly,” Jenny concluded with a quirk of her brow.

“You’re gonna have to explain,”

“Gladly,” Her friend quipped. “You want to feel liberated, vulnerable, and honest again but not necessarily with Harry.  That place meant a lot to you--sure.  But it doesn’t matter.  What counts is who you are with.  Who’s giving you that type of comfortability that you’re able to be just yourself around them. Do you understand?”

Y/N leaned forward in interest.

“You are well aware of that but you won’t accept it. You won’t go with him because you know that it won’t be the same anymore. That’s the first step of moving on.  Once you acknowledge that as much as you miss him, as much as you think you want him to be around, you know better than that. He’s changed and so have you.  He’s searching for that same feeling by going back to the places that you used to go to.  Thinks he will find it there but--,”

“He won’t.” Y/N finished off. “Because she is not me,”

___

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - final chapter

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: this is it, everyone! Thank you for following along for the ride. This series is now officially completed, but I will write an epilogue for it eventually (it most likely won’t be coming out next Tuesday). If there’s anything in particular you’d like to see in it, please let me know!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The gentle sunlight dancing through the sheer curtains woke me up. I did not understand why anyone bought these types of curtains - maybe for the living room, sure. But to place them inside a bedroom?

The aesthetic purposes weren’t as important as the usefulness and as far as drapes go, these were pathetic. I had told Ransom about them before, and all he did was chuckle and agree to call his interior designer to ask for something made of a better fabric.

Yawning, I sat up on the bed and stretched out my arms, moaning softly at the pleasurable pain on my muscles. I was still half-asleep, mind not yet connected to anything when I felt a sweaty hand slip from my stomach to my thigh, and I realized it was naked.

I was naked. All at once, the memories from last night returned and I whipped my head to the side to check on a sleeping Ransom, face turned to me as he snored gently on the pillow.

I remembered everything then. The fight, the insecurities, the reassurances, the physical reassurances… The way he told me he loved me…

I wanted to say it back. I really did because I knew I felt the same way about him, but I hadn’t anticipated it would happen during sex after what was probably one of the worst evenings of our lives.

It felt too real. Too much, too soon. I needed to get out of here.

In my rush to leave the bed, I dipped the mattress too abruptly considering there was someone else slipping on it - someone I didn’t want to wake up. So that’s precisely what happened.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I inhaled deeply as the slumber slowly left my body, memories of the night before rushing in as I exhaled into a smile. God, that was the best night of my life.

Opening my eyes, I was hoping to find her body right next to mine, close enough that I could reach over, touch her and maybe repeat some of last nights best moments until hunger forced us to leave the bed.

But my fingers didn’t find anything and when I looked up, it was to find her frantically trying to put on some clothes as she fumbled from one side of the room to the other.

“What’s going on?” My voice came out harsher than I intended, throat hoarse from last night’s activities and the sleep that still somewhat dominated my body. Upon hearing it, she froze, keeping her back to me while my mind raced, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

And then I understood it.

“You’re trying to leave me.” She didn’t deny it, but guilt must have been inside of her, fighting for dominance over her fear because she turned around to face me, a pained look on her expression.

“Ransom…” I knew that tone. I hadn’t even employed on anyone before because I never cared enough about someone to feel bad when I broke things off with them, but this feeling was universal.

I rushed to leave the bed, uncaring of the fact that I was still naked when I crossed the distance between us and took her face in my hands. “Don’t do this,” I pleaded. “Don’t lock me out again.”

Tears dominated her eyes and she blinked them away, forcing them out so they could run over her cheeks. Frustration was clear on her every feature, she shook her head as best as she could considering my hold on her, squeezing her eyes shut for a second like she was trying to think.

“Why the fuck can’t I control myself around you?” She burst out, and immediately the angst I was feeling escaped my body, letting me go now that I knew what was bothering her.

Taking a deep breath, I brushed her hair away from her face, gazing deeply into her eyes so she’d know how much I meant what I had to say.

“Because you like being with me just as much as I enjoy being with you.” She couldn’t counter that, but when she tried to avoid it, I called her out, “It’s true, you can’t deny that!”

She bit on her bottom lip, trying to contain herself, trying to get a hold of her emotions that must have been all over the place. I could understand that, considering… well, everything. Not only her pregnancy and our emotional connection, but the array of feelings we went through last night.

One thing remained true. I loved her and after what she did for me, I knew she loved me too.

“Your head’s trying to talk you out of it,” I recognized, hoping now that I was showing the problem she would acknowledge it too. “But you know this in your heart, just like I know on mine!”

Once again, she didn’t oppose it, and that gave me all the confidence I needed to keep going.

“We’re supposed to be an ‘us’, sweetheart,” I breathed out, hope and longing evident in every single word I uttered, as well as my eyes, that never strayed from hers. “Please, give this a try.”

Silence followed. She was calmer now, more rational. Her breathing was slower but she still looked weary, still looked scared. So I let her go, separating my skin from hers even though it was the exact opposite of what I wanted to do, so I could give her as much room to think as possible.

But I was going to lay all of my arguments because this was the battle of my life.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I felt cold without his hands on my body, his presence towering over me. Hugging myself, I hesitated between leaving the room or staying there, when he started to talk again, making the decision for me.

“You know it makes sense.” He was talking about him and I, I knew it. And I agreed. There wasn’t a single cell on my body that could deny this - not anymore. Still, my brain persisted, stuck on idiotic reasonings that had no place ruling something so important to my heart. “It makes so much sense.”

The fact that he was willing to fight for this, to fight for me was making this even harder on me. It was clear on the way he spoke - on every word he said - that this mattered to him and I felt comforted in the knowledge, but even more frustrated that my stupid insecurities still haunted me.

“I know I’m not easy,” he acknowledged, leaving me even more frustrated with myself. “And I definitely don’t deserve someone like you. But if you want me, I’ll be here.”

I had to say something. I couldn’t just let him think so low of himself, not when he was being the perfect partner and my only reason to hold back resided exclusively on myself.

“I do want you,” I managed to admit, my voice tentative as I played with my own dress. “I want you Ransom, and you do deserve me but I…”

That was enough to get him near me again, hands once more cradling my face as he dipped my head so I’d look him in the eye. “I know you’re scared,” he recognized, tongue wetting his lower lip as he rushed to try to calm me. “I know you’re scared of loving me, and I was scared too.”

A chuckle escaped his lips, he sounded almost guilty. “I still am, if I’m being entirely honest. But I’m willing to give this a try because the other option… well, the other option is simply unacceptable to me.”

Silence laid heavily in the room as I contemplated what he was saying, thinking about the other option myself. I didn’t want to live it. I didn’t want to go through this alone and love Ransom from a distance.

The fear of losing him brought me the courage I needed to push through and tear down the last wall I was stupidly trying to keep against him and I.

“You’ve done so much for me,” I recognized, trying to keep the shame in my voice to a minimum. “So much to prove to me that you’re worth it.”

The light coming through the curtains made the atmosphere almost romantic somehow, and now I found myself enjoying them because this way, I could see the sparkle of hope that twinkled in Ransom’s deep eyes.

I needed to say it. It was time for me to say it. “You’re the only person I want to be with,” I started, dipping my toes in the water while I prayed that the sea wouldn’t take me. When Ransom smiled, thumbs brushing over my cheeks, I felt comforted that if a wave should swallow me, I’d die happily in its embrace. “Ransom… I love you.”

His lips connected to mine, my heartbeat loud on my ears but I wasn’t anxious anymore. All I could feel was happiness, blinding, hopeful, bright - taking over my entire body when he parted and rubbed his nose against mine, cocky grin on his lips as he teased, “I know.”

Snorting, I allowed him to pull me back to bed, perfectly content on his embrace as I was suddenly reminded of something. “Oh, but if you ever cheat me, I’ll cut off your balls.”

It was my payback for his response to my love confession, but also my way of admitting my biggest insecurity. Ransom knew it, and so he pulled me back to lay against his chest so he could rub my back calmingly.

“You really shouldn’t worry, baby…” I knew from his tone that he was joining in on the light banter, but whatever he was going to say would be a truthful reflection of his feelings on the matter. “I don’t think anyone is more attractive than you.”

That sent me into a fit of giggles, aided by the fact that he took advantage of my distraction to start tickling me. Once he was done and I was trying to catch my breath, I caught him staring at me with those deep, emotion-filled eyes again.

“Besides…” he continued, like he had never even paused. “I’ve never wanted anyone half as much as I want you.”

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x Oc ) Chapter 4

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!! 

Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“Dearest, I am  appalled. “ My father said apologetically. “ Jungkook told me what happened at the dinner and I’m beginning to rethink this whole idea. These pups need to be on a leash , if they cannot control themselves to this extent.” 

I was curled up on the couch next to my dad, his fingers gently stroking my hair while he stared at the screen in front of us. It carried all the accounts of the mansion for the week and the numbers made my head swim . So I ignored it, eating the freshly baked macarons that  cook had sent up from the kitchen. 

My father occasionally consulted from a bunch of files spread out on the table in front of him and I shuddered again when I thought about Mingyu. 

“He was an awful choice father. I should have just told you to set things up with Yugyeom.” I grimaced. 

My father nodded at once.

“Of course dearest, I’ll talk to him myself and see if he’s free this weekend. Will that work for you?”

“thank you father.” I said brightly, curling up next to him.

For a few minutes, we both stayed quiet, him humming as he leafed through the files, me munching on a few ripe tangerine pieces. 

“What do you think of Jungkook?” My father said suddenly, making me cough. 

I swallowed, throat dry.

My father felt me stiffen against him and he chuckled. 

“Don’t panic, love. I am way too old not to recognize heartache when I see it. Especially in my own daughter. Your display at the breakfast table yesterday was quite unlike you and I realized, it���s not just a silly infatuation anymore, is it  ? ” He rubbed the back of his fingers on my cheek, soothing and gentle. 

I didn’t reply. 

“I think he’s a good...man.” I finished.

“Ahhh...” My father chuckled. “  Man.  Here I am , trying to foist you off on boys who’ve barely popped their fangs for the first time .... when it is obvious that what you need is someone reliable and in control. Therein lies the appeal, does it not, dearest? ” 

I flushed red, scrambling to sit up , and clutching the fabric of my skirt in a death grip. 

“It’s... it’s stupid. I’ll get over it.” I choked out. 

My father hummed. 

“Have you told him how you feel?” He asked gently and I stared at him.

“You’re not mad.?” I whispered.

My father chuckled.

“Why would I be mad?  I’ve known him for five whole centuries. He’s a fine, upstanding man. Jungkook is fair and strong. He is more than capable of taking care of you and the best part, you would be able to live here forever. I would be lucky to have him as my son in law.” He said firmly. 

I felt my body go lax in disbelief. 

“Somi .. Somi said...That you wouldn’t approve. Because he isn’t from a strong clan. ”

“Somi worries too much about what the others in our clan may say.  Especially your uncle. He’s coming back soon remember? “ My father grimaced. 

I felt a shiver run through me. 

“Uncle Jaebum? He’s coming back?” I whispered, terrified. 

My father hummed, kissing the side of my head.

“Yes he is, love. But don’t worry. I’ll handle him. Your uncle still believes that lineage plays some role in how a vampire turns out but couldn’t be more wrong. i mean , young Mr. Mingyu has single handedly proven  that theory wrong , hasn’t he?” My father shook his head, laughing, “  So tell me, has Jungkook agreed to court you?” 

I groaned. 

“He has categorically stated that he doesn’t want to court me.” I said softly.

My father laughed at that.

“That must’ve been a novel experience for you.” 

I pouted. 

“Father!” I whined. 

“Alright, alright ...dearest. I won’t tease. Did he say why? ” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

“Because I’m too young? Possibly.... He said something about carrying too much baggage and not wanting to ruin my life.” 

My father made a noise of impatience.

“The boy is an overthinker. He’s always been that way. He doesn’t look that way but he cares deeply about hurting others. It’s possible he’s only trying to protect you. Albeit in a very misguided way. “

“ Perhaps. But, whatever the reason, he’s not willing to court me. So, no. i don’t think he wants to be your son in law. I wish I could change his mind. ” I muttered, snuggling closer into him. 

“Ah, you know I can’t change his mind for you, don’t you flower? That’s your job...”

I sighed. 

“I know...” 

“If Jungkook does choose to court you. You will have my blessing. I will give you a wedding that will make the world watch in awe. “ He said firmly. 

i laughed. 

“Really? You made Somi marry Jimin in the barn on the estate.” I grinned. 

“Well, Don’t tell your brothers and sisters but you are my favorite after all. “ He whispered conspiratorially and I grinned. 

It was funny because I knew he wasn’t even lying. 

After my mother had left the clan, my father had taken on the role with enthusiasm. Unlike the head of clans all over the world, my father was approachable , friendly and deeply involved in his children’s lives. And he had always adored me. 

“And even if Jungkook doesn’t realize how amazing you are, remember that there are plenty of good men out there. I want you to be happy, dearest. I will not settle for anything less than your complete happiness. “ My father said fiercely and I hugged him closer. 

I loved this man too damn much. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ You’re so good at what you do, Sera .” Lee Minhyuk gave me a seductive smile as he watched me wrestle his one year old daughter into her booties with one hand while i kept the other wrapped around her to stop her from toppling backwards on the small seat. 

 How about you stop flirting and help me dress your daughter , you asshole, I thought angrily, grunting from the effort of crouching for long periods of time. 

When the fluffy blue fur boots were finally on, I gave little Cherin’s squishy thighs a soft squeeze, pressing a kiss to her perfect cheeks. 

“Good bye cherry berry...” I sang softly, waving gently as she hugged her father’s legs before being scooped up into his arms. 

“So, are you free this friday? We could get something to eat?” Minhyuk gave me a wink. 

His wife was out of town. 

I offered a polite smile in return. 

“I’m going to have to pass on that. I don’t date parents, Minhyuk ssi.” I bowed my head lightly. 

Minhyuk looked annoyed but his gaze flitted to the 6′3″ man behind me, and he didn’t push the subject, merely bowing before leaving. 

Behind me Jungkook cleared his throat. 

I turned and he gave me a slow, lazy smirk. 

“You don’t date parents? Does that mean we’re not on for tonight anymore?” His eyes danced with mirth, mischief glinting in the black orbs. 

I flushed red. 

“Stop it, “ i hissed peering over his shoulder to make sure none of the other workers in the daycare had heard him. 

Jungkook smiled a little at the panic in my face. 

“But then , it isn’t really a date is it? You only want my body.” He sighed deeply in faux disappointment. 

I gave him an impish smile.

“It is the best thing you have on offer....” I shrugged. 

He laughed.

“Fair enough. Did you tell your dad about Mingyu? ” He asked as the workers began to leave one by one. Joowon had left with some of the other kids earlier, Jimin and Somi having promised to take the kids in the clan out for icecream. 

I picked up the stray blocks, dropping them into the huge laundry basket repurposed as a toy bag. i got on my hands and knees to peer under the huge wooden dresser in the corner, looking for stray blocks or toys and picking a few. 

 My back screamed in protest and i wondered if I was going to spend the rest of eternity with an achy back. I was just too young to be feeling this old. 

Was Park Jimin onto something with the whole yoga and stretching and exercise and healthy eating ? Should I stop binge eating french fries and possibly start eating salads? 

I sighed, straightening up and twisting my torso a bit only to find Jungkook with his gaze leveled very obviously  on my ass. 

So much so he didn’t even notice I was looking at him. 

I cleared my throat and his gaze left my butt, meeting mine with an absolutely unrepentant look on his face. 

“What?” He shrugged. “ I’m just seeing what I’m going to be working with tonight .” 

I felt my face flame, hating the way an absolutely ridiculous smile was threatening to make its way onto my face. I turned away quickly, crawling on all fours to the next dresser and peering under it too. 

once all the toys were put away and I’d double checked the to do list on the board , We finally closed the day care down for the night. It was just  little past six and I stood by the door, watching while he carefully checked all the side gates and the backyard. 

Slipping the key into my backpack , I began the walk back to the mansion and he fell into step next to me. 

“You didn’t answer my question....” He said softly and I blinked.

“Oh?” I couldn’t remember. 

“ Did you tell your father what happened with Mingyu?”

“Did you?” I retorted. and he shrugged. 

“I had to give a complete play by play report. Your father was incredibly upset.” 

I chuckled. 

“He’s very protective of me..” I shrugged.

Jungkook went tellingly quiet.

I felt foreboding rise inside me. Jungkook inhaled sharply, obviously staring to say something but i cut him off quickly. 

“He likes you!!” I blurted out quickly. “ I mean..he approves of you... Told me he wouldn’t mind you being his son in law.” 

My lack of filter was going to get me  killed  one of these days. 

Jungkook however seemed more amused than annoyed. 

“Well, considering the kind of candidates in the race, I can see why he would prefer me. “ He laughed. 

I frowned. There was something smug in his tone that irked me. He shouldn’t get to be smug about something like that when he didn’t even want to be with me in the first place. 

“They’re not all clowns. Yugyeom is a great guy.” I said sharply.

Jungkook’s eyebrow shot up.

“Is it so?”

I nodded, honest. 

“He’s older... almost two centuries old now and he’s a good friend.” 

“Two centuries? How on earth did he become your friend?” 

“He was one of my tutors during college. So I kind of had a crush on him.... It was all exciting .... You know, teacher and student .....forbidden love and all that “ I smiled. 

Jungkook gave me a cheeky smile. 

“Ahh...ever sucked his dick off under the desk? Or dreamed of it at least? ” He asked casually and I choked.

“ What? “ 

“Why do you look so shocked? isn’t that the most common of fantasies?“

I glared at him .

“No... I did not. That’s indecent.” 

He stopped walking. 

I walked a few steps ahead and paused, turning to stare at him. 

“What?” I demanded. 

“Sera , what the actual fuck do you think we’re going to be doing tonight?” He asked thoughtfully. 

I spluttered . 

“I... Its different. I was too young back then. Of course I know what you’re going to do tonight.” I said impatiently, turning around to keep going. 

But his hand shot out, gripping my arm and pulling me to him. I crashed into his chest, gripping the fabric to steady myself. 

“For someone who was so eager to have me show her the ‘ ropes’ , you’re quite intent on running from me, anytime i bring it up.” He whispered. 

i stared resolutely at his chest, refusing to meet his eyes. It wasn’t that I was shy per se. But just looking at his face made me lose my braincells. 

“I’m not running away. I just....” Don’t want to read too much into your flirting. Your teasing. Your interest in me. I have to keep my heart safe and I can’t do that with you offering me all of your attention....

“Don’t be nervous, alright? I’ll take good care of you.” He smiled softly. 

 God, I hated this man. 

I could feel heat pool in my belly, spreading all over my body and the urge to throw myself into his arms was so overwhelming.

“I know you will. “ I said softly, finally looking up at him, pressing my palm to his face. “ You’re a good man. A kind man. I knew the minute I saw you that you’d take good care of me. ” 

The words seemed to affect him and he bit his lips, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away from his face.  

“We should go.” He said shortly, pushing away from me and walking away briskly. 

“Who’s the one running now, Jeon Jungkook?!!!” I yelled after him and he flipped me off without turning around. 

Laughing, I ran to catch up with him again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At 10.55 , I stood outside Jungkook’s room, nervous but eager.

 It wasn’t even the prospect of sex, I thought giddily. Just the idea of spending time with him, of listening to him talk, of having him at touching distance .....it was so intoxicating. 

I knocked lightly. 

Jungkook opened the door , a smile on his face and it was jarring, how young he looked like this. 

He was clearly fresh out of the shower. Hair wet and and still dripping a little, he was dressed in a grey hoodie, the sleeves rolled up to show his veiny forearms and grey sweatpants, hands tucked into his pockets as he shook his hair out of his eyes. 

It was a futile action and all it really did was send water droplets flying all around. 

I blinked against the unexpected spray, water clinging to my lashes and my cheeks. 

“Hey!! “ I protested. “ Are you a puppy? Use a towel like the rest of the world.” I mumbled. 

He laughed. 

“Come in, princess.” He grabbed my wrist, tugging gently and I stepped into his room, looking around eagerly. 

He closed the door behind us and I heard him pull the dead bolt into place before turning the key as well.

No interruptions then.....

Good. 

“Your room is actually bigger than mine.” I frowned, noting the big four poster bed, complete with a white curtained canopy. I let my gaze fall to the clean white sheets and my mind flashed back to the beautiful Helena, sprawled on the bed in nothing but her underwear. 

I swallowed the bitter jealousy that threatened. 

Hands wrapped around my waist from behind and he hugged me close, the warmth of his chest heavy and amazing on my body. I jumped a little when i felt the gentle press of his lips on the curve of my neck. 

“You sure about this? We don’t have to do anything at all tonight. We can kiss a little, watch a movie and sleep. But you’re a big girl so I’m gonna let you call the shots.” He lightly grabbed a huge chunk of my hair, lifting it out of the way before kissing the back of my neck. 

“Uh...” I stared straight ahead, already half aroused. “I want....to feel good.” 

He laughed against my skin, his hold around me tightening. 

“That can be arranged.” He said hotly, teeth nipping  at my skin before he gently turned me around in his arms. 

I looked up at him, drinking in his gorgeous face and he hummed, eyes narrowed as though in deep thought. 

“Bed?” He prompted and it was ridiculous, how one word could turn me on that bad. I nodded, making to move but he surprised me, crouching and grabbing the back of my thighs, pulling me up so easily, that I shrieked. I wrapped my thighs around his waist, more by instinct than intent and he laughed at the look on my face. 

“This always gets the ladies going.” He winked and I flushed. 

“Show off...” I muttered, lightly punching his shoulders and he shrugged.

“I don’t hit the gym five times a week to  not  show off darling.” he drawled, walking over to the bed and tossing me on the mattress. I bounced off the surface, squawking in surprise and I scrambled to sit up but he was already grabbing the hem of his hoodie and tossing it off. 

I’d never seen him shirtless but before I could fully appreciate the view, he was climbing on the bed. He grabbed my ankles, tugging me away from the head board and I landed on my back with an oof. 

“Ow. You’re being entirely too careless with me. “ I protested. 

He crawled forward on his knees, closer and closer till he was throwing one leg over my body, straddling my waist. 

“Thought you wanted to be put in your place.” He reminded me and I grinned up at him. 

“I think I’m right where I want to be. Under you.” I said honestly and he nodded.

“It’s where you belong.” He whispered, taking me entirely by surprise .

 My heart began pounding a familiar ache, a familiar pang. I knew it was an illusion. He didn’t for a second believe I belonged here but it was hard not to believe him, when he was hovering over me , looking like a fallen angel. 

God, don’t get emotionally invested. He doesn’t actually mean it, you fool. 

“Kiss me.” I held my arms up and he lowered himself carefully, keeping his weight off me as he kissed me, soft and gentle. I let my fingers tangle in the damp ebony locks, tugging gently as he angled himself better, tongue begging entrance. 

The heady mint taste of him, sent me into over drive and I wrapped both my legs around his waist, pulling him down. 

I took a second to just take him in.

The scent of his skin against mine, clean and woody, slightly sweaty, but mostly just musky. The smell of a man . The weight of him on my body, the hardness of his arousal evident even through the sweatpants. He pulled back to stare at me, his fingers brushing my cheeks. 

“You have perfect lips for kissing. Lush and plump. Like tiny pillows I can sink my teeth into.” He whispered, catching my lower lip between his teeth and tugging. 

“You have beautiful nipples. I want to lick them some day. .” I breathed, running my thumb on the curve of his cheek bones. 

Jungkook stared at me in complete shock for a second and then  laughed . 

“Thats.... a new one. Jesus. “ he shook his head, almost in disbelief. 

“Sorry.” I flushed and he waved off my apology. 

“You wanted to feel good right? Shall I start?” His eyes twinkled. 

I nodded, way too eagerly and he laughed harder. 

“Okay, let’s get you out of these clothes, princess. “  He grabbed my arm, pulling me up to a sitting position before gently tugging the t shirt off my chest. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath and his breath caught s he stared at my breasts.

He stared at them for a second, swallowing before, glancing at me .

“Beautiful.” He said, voice deep and husky. 

“Thank you .” I said primly. 

He laughed again and shook his head.

“I can’t remember ever laughing so much before sex. This is so weird.” 

“Weird bad?” i asked, nervous.

He shook his head.

“Weird good.” He leaned in, kissing my cheek just as he hooked his thumbs into my shorts, pulling them down easily and leaving me completely naked. “ Weird adorable.” 

I crossed my legs, drawing my knees up at once, feeling devastatingly shy. 

His eyes softened. 

“You want me to turn off the lights? “ He asked gently. 

“Yes please.” I said desperately and he nodded, quickly climbing off the bed and fumbling with the light switches. He left a single light on , near the closet. It left the rest of the room dimly lit. 

“Am I the first one to see you like this?” He asked, rubbing his hands together before climbing onto the bed again. 

“Um... after the age of ten, yes.” I laughed nervously. 

He hummed. 

“You’re gorgeous. Toss me that pillow.” He pointed to the one next to my head and i handed it to him.

“Lie down for me darling.” He smiled. 

I hesitated, closing my eyes tight just because it was overwhelming, seeing him in front of me , shirtless and being naked in front of him. 

I laid back slowly, knees still pulled up and feet on the bed, thighs pressed together. 

My heart was pounding , less from nerves and more from sheer anticipation. I’d waited long enough for this to truly feel nervous or want to back out. 

And the fact that it was with Jungkook... I’d pretty much hit the jackpot in first time experiences. 

Hands on my knees made my eyes fly open and I found myself staring up into his face.

“You okay?” He asked gently. 

i nodded.

“Let me between your legs?” He asked sweetly. 

I felt the blood rush to my face, my legs shaking as I spread my knees and thighs, enough to give him space between them. His fingers closed around my ankle lightly, gentle as he ran his hands up and down my legs. 

“Relax alright. You wanted to feel good and I’m going to make you feel good. The only thing you need to do is... well.. feel.” He smiled, impish bunny teeth bright even in the darkened room. 

I nodded, closing my eyes. 

“Don’t wanna watch?” He teased and I shook my head. My pulse kicked up at the very thought of it. 

Jungkook wasn’t anything like I’d imagined, I thought miserably. He had been attractive as the stoic, serious man who wanted to do the right thing but like this : naught and flirty and charming , he was absolutely devastating and i wasn’t sure i could come out of this unscathed. 

I couldn’t fight the feeling that I was making a huge mistake . that this whole thing was going to end with my heart ripped to shreds....

His lips against my forehead pulled me out of my thoughts and I swallowed. 

“I’m going to touch you.” He said softly and I shuddered when his hands closed over my breasts, gentle but firm, kneading the flesh very slowly, thumbs rubbing back and forth on the nipples till they tightened. 

I bit my lips to stop myself from crying out, the sensation overwhelming and foreign because it was someone else’s fingers and not my own. 

“Hey... “ one soft finger pressed against my lips, parting them gently and i sobbed out loud. “ None of that.... You should be as loud as you want to...how else will I know if I’m getting the job done?” 

“You’re getting it done..” I choked out, shaking all over and his kissed my lips again, quick and hard. 

“So beautiful.” He murmured, lips pressing kisses down my chest and across my breasts.

“Since you wanted to lick my nipple, let me uh...return the favor? In advance ?” He laughed against my skin and I inhaled sharply when he nipped at the fleshy mound. 

His lips closed around my nipples, the suction gentle but his tongue wet and insistent .

I went completely still, my hands flying to his hair and gripping so hard he grunted . My hips lifted off the bed at the sensation, every nerve ending on fire as he kept suckling and licking and god, his teeth...he was using his teeth to bite down on the nub... making me thrash my hips , my body completely overwhelmed . 

He kept his lips over the peak, licking the tip over and over till it was tender and wet and hard . He used his hands to knead the other side, thumb rubbing insistently on the neglected nub and I felt my toes curling into th mattress, my arms drooping to loop around his neck as he began to move his hips as well, grinding down on to my thigh. 

I was going to black out from having my nipple played with, I thought vacantly.

“Probably won’t feel this good for me but I’m glad you like it.” He laughed again and I loved the sound of it. Loved that he seemed to be enjoying this too. And I wanted him to enjoy it. Wanted to make him feel good too.

So I let my hand drop, down to his waist and then to the front of his pants.

He froze over me. 

“Sera-”

“I want to.” I said desperately, knowing what he was going to say.  . “ Please , let me touch you too-”

“Hey hey...shush..”He kissed me again quick and heady. “ Remember what I said? You call the shots.... “ He pressed another kiss to the corner of my lips. “ Want me to take off my sweats?” 

I nodded, “ Yeah.” 

He wiggled out of his pants quickly and i cursed myself for wanting the lights turned off. 

I hesitated, rubbing my palm on his pecs and tracing the muscles down to his tightly packed abs and then hesitating. 

“You can touch.” He said hotly and I swallowed, letting my fingers flutter down between his gloriously thick thighs. His skin was smooth and hard , like silk over steel and I let my fingers go lower, past the light dusting of hair to the thick, rigid length of him , my fingers closing over the hardness of his cock. 

Jungkook jerked forward, head burying into the pillow near my head and he swore.

“Fuck...” He sounded strangled and I laughed , gripping him harder but not a lot because I wasn’t sure how much was too much. .

“I have no idea what I’m doing...” I admitted weakly , loosening my grip a little to stroke up and down over the length of his cock. 

“Fuck.. just the fact that you’re doing it is going to make me cum.” He choked out and I laughed, ridiculously flattered.  

He grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away.

“Lick it.” He said softly. 

I went still, my brain grinding to a halt.. Lick....??

 My eyes went wide.  

And so did his.

“Your palm.” He choked out. “ Lick your palm not my..... Your palm. It’s too dry.” 

Oh..  oh.

Lick my palm. Not his cock. Right. Got it. 

“Okay...”I drew my hand up and hesitated , unsure . Jungkook watched me like a hawk, eyes trained on my mouth and I bit my lips, cupping my palm and spitting into it, twice for good measure. feeling absolutely filthy.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed as I took my hand down to his cock again, wrapping my hand around it and it did feel better, easier to jerk him off with the lubrication. I moved my hands up and down , with  no rhythm and Jungkook gritted his teeth. 

“Okay... I’m gonna.. “He shivered a little when I tentatively pressed my thumb to the head, surprised to find him wet , on the top. I gathered the moisture around his slit, spreading it all over the head of his cock, using my fingers to rub circles over the crown , fingers tracing the thick vein on the underside. 

 inside me. This is going to be inside me. 

 I felt my thighs shake, my insides clenching, wetness dribbling out of me as I squirmed. 

“Please... Jungkook , I...”

“I got you...” He whispered, grabbing my hand and pulling it away from his cock. 

“hey-” I pouted but he shook his head. 

“If you don’t keep your hands off,  this'll all be over before it even begins,.” He said dryly. 

I closed my eyes again, my nerves picking up. 

“Listen...” He said suddenly and I blinked, staring at him. “ I’m going to get you wet...” Oh, god, “ With my tongue.” 

My entire body went taut. 

“I..”

“It’ll make it easier... trust me. And It’ll feel good. Wasn’t that the goal today? “ He tossed me a wink, squeezing my thighs a bit. He moved back and grabbed the pillow.

“Lift your hips up for me.” He said gently and I raised my butt, jerking when he folded the pillow in half and pushed it under my hips. And the he was crawling backwards, till his face hovered over my belly button.

“Throw your legs over my shoulders....” He said briskly, gripping my thighs , one in each and spreading my legs apart. I did as he asked, the back of my knee resting on the hard muscles of his broad shoulders and i raised my head a bit to peer down at him. 

The sight of jungkook’s gorgeous fucking face between my thighs got seared into my head and I fell back, already overwhelmed. 

He pressed a soft kiss to my thigh, a little nip my skin and then sucked the skin at the juncture of my hip and thigh. He was breathing in suddenly, a loud, shuddering inhale.  His breathing wavered and i felt the sharp pin prick of teeth. 

“Shit..”He pulled back and I jumped a little, watching him struggle. He glanced at me and I saw the flash of white between his lips. He’d dropped fang...and was clearly struggling to get them to retract. 

“You can do it..” I said feverishly. “ Jungkook , you can.... Drink.” 

He shook his head and glanced up at me and the look in his eyes made me startle .... because it looked like he was going to get up, move away , possibly call off this whole thing and no...no that was absolutely not going to happen. 

I was not letting him back out of this. 

He tried to move, but I grabbed his hair, yanking his mouth back to my thigh. 

“Fucking do it...” I snapped angrily and his eyes widened at my tone, “  do it and then fuck me , Jungkook or I swear to God I’ll  -” 

Sharp, sharp pain lanced through my spine as he bit down, fangs piercing my skin with ease and I felt the rush of liquid as it left my body, filling his mouth as he gulped. 

His venom worked its magic, the pain dulling to a throb, a pleasant heady intoxication....meant to make the bleeding out painless, meant to make death pleasant for the prey but for me it was just pleasure.

 Pleasure because he could have his fill and I would still be able to give him more. 

Pleasure because with me, he could indulge himself, as much as he wanted without worrying about the consequences. 

Jungkook groaned against my thighs, his shoulders shaking as he drank and I stroked his hair, petting the dark strands as I fought the slight lightheadedness, knowing that it would pass soon. 

Jungkook sucked deeper and I parted my legs moaning when my head began to spin, and then I felt his fingers touch my center, parting my folds , spreading the wetness all over his fingers before his thumb pressed down on my clit, rubbing insistently. I felt myself dripping all over the sheets, so wet and swollen and throbbing... 

“Oh, god yes... That feels so good, Jungkook .. I...” I gasped  as he slipped one long finger in, deep and without any resistance. The warm wetness in my thigh began spreading and I heard him groan as he sucked harder, drinking me down like i was the finest wine. 

“Another... give me more...please...” 

He moaned, still drinking, still shaking as he pressed another finger in next to the previous one, deeper still, searching and stroking, tracing every ridge inside me, curling just right, and rubbing down on that spot inside me...the one I could never quite reach by myself. 

Jungkook inhaled sharply, his fang sinking in just a little deeper as he latched on tighter and my legs shook as I cried out. 

He hummed, using one hand to rub soothing circles on my thigh, while he rubbed his thumb across my clit , hard and the gentle and then hard again until it throbbed and ached , over and over again and I was sure the little nub was bruised, that I wouldn’t be able to touch it for a while without wincing. 

I was gushing , my arousal so strong that the sheets were soaked, wet and so damp and the sensation of his fingers, thick and deep inside me while his fangs bit down harder, while he fed from me, was just too much...too much. 

I exploded around his fingers , my orgasm so strong that my hips lifted right off the bed, and he fucked me through it, fingers pounding in and out of my wet swollen walls as he pulled away, fangs retracting and I struggled to get on my elbows , to get a look at him.

He looked completely wrecked, fangs still half out, lips red and dripping blood , eyes flashing scarlet and blazing with lust so potent , I felt my insides churn.,,. i stared at him as I clenched over his fingers and he closed his eyes, shoulders shaking as he tried to get his bearings but I grabbed his shoulders, scrabbling to pull him up and closer. 

“Inside!” I choked out as he tried to get up, looking punch drunk and out of it.” Get inside me.”

“Sera... you’re...” He was slurring his words and I cried out in sheer frustration, scrabbling to my knees and pushing him down till he was flat on the bed. 

 “ Please i need it... need your cock inside me Jungkook, fuck...”  I begged, my thighs aching and walls clenching from how desperately I wanted to be filled. I stuck my hand between my legs , gathering as much of my wetness as I could before gripping his cock, coating him in my arousal.

 There was something so filthy about his hard, thick cock covered in my juices that made my mouth water. I wanted to swallow him down, to feel his cock hit the back of my throat but I wanted him inside me too. 

Maybe next time. 

“Please....Please can I sit on your cock?!! “ i choked out, fully gone. Jungkook groaned at my words. 

“Yes.. fuck... Do it.. Come on baby, take what you want from me.” he whispered.  and I scrambled up to straddle his thighs. Gripping the base of his cock, I pressed the tip against my entrance, closing my eyes to brace myself, digging my knees into the mattress for leverage before sinking straight down . 

“Oh, fuck....” I shuddered, my entire body thrumming as he pressed in, the hard length of him cleaving me so easily there was absolutely no pain to even register. It was just new. Different. 

And so so exhilarating. 

I sank all the way down till my ass hit the hardness of his thighs. 

And then I couldn’t move anymore. My body shook with tremors and My hands began trembling. 

“Jungkook...please... I..”

He responded by reaching out and gripping me thighs.

“Look at me baby...!” He said sharply and I stared down at his sweat slicked face. His eyes flashed red for a second and then he tugged me down, till i was lying flat on his chest. His arms came around my waist, anchoring me in place. 

“Gonna give it to you good. Just stay still yeah?” He breathed against my ear as i buried my face in the crook of his neck. And then he was rolling us both over, till I was flat on my back, his hand closing over my thigh, spreading my legs apart as he pistoned straight in. 

We were both too far gone for any semblance of a rhythm and I stopped trying to move, merely wrapping my arms around his neck, clinging on as he fucked into me, so hard that I could feel him in my gut. I felt my hips ache from the sheer force of his thrusts, my thighs cramping from how wide he had me spread and my clit throbbing from the way his cock dragged across it with every thrust. 

Pleasure swelled, again, this time stringer and I stopped fighting to make it happen, sinking back and letting it crash over me , like a wave breaking over the cliffs. 

Jungkook groaned as I exploded around him, my walls clenching around his cock and milking him and he shuddered in my arms, his cock twitching inside me as he came, filling me up . 

I gripped his shoulders, clinging to him as he trembled through the aftershocks. I felt my walls clenching, over and over again and Jungkook gave me a strangled moan.

“Too much...baby.. please stop... “ He begged and I froze, realizing that he was too sensitive and wanted to pull out. 

“sorry...sorry... “ I willed my walls to stop clenching and he made a noise of sheer exhaustion as he pulled out of me. 

I watched as he rolled off me, collapsing on his back, breathing hard. 

I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the wet mess of his cum, drip out of me and onto the sheets. I had the sudden made urge to stick my finger down there , scoop it up and taste it but I tamped it down. 

“Well.” I began.... 

He turned to look at me. 

I turned to him, still trying to catch my breath. 

“I’m not a virgin anymore.” I grinned wide. 

He groaned and ran a finger over his face. 

“Congratulations, Princess.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note :  Please i need holy water. 

feedback is love. If you don’t tell me you loved this fic i will not write smut anymore. 

taglist :  

@ladyartemesia        @veronawrites   @alpaca1612     @bonyg    @unseejuice21  @sppvjj     @ggukkieland     @tae-by-tae      @blr1004      @yoongichild    @stussyjeon  @jellybearo​   

[littlethie]

Your girlfriend’s best friend - Draco Malfoy x reader

How does it feel to watch your best friend date the love of your life?

A/N: Alright, so I wanted to post something in between studying. I will be working on the request tomorrow because I have an exam yay! So I am working on it don’t worry!

Warnings: angst, swearing, alcohol, my English 

Words: 2,3k

notmygif

You weren’t the first one. You weren´t the main role, and you weren´t his. It was your best friend, Angelica, a beautiful Gryffindor. You kept thinking about it, with your chin lazily rested in your palm. The boy you were sure you loved was in love with someone else. And as if it couldn´t get any worse, he was in love with the girl you considered a sister.

You couldn´t tell her, even if you wanted to. And what would you even tell her? Hi Angelica, I´m totally in love with Draco Malfoy, your boyfriend? You sighed.

You just weren´t the first one. The first one to break the tedious house stereotype, the first one the Slytherins would consider their friend. It was all her, all Angelica.

And so you were here, watching the two of them sitting next to each other by the Slytherin table. No one cared anymore. Everyone liked Angelica. She was beautiful and funny. The entire school knew Draco wasn´t the only Slytherin crushing on her. Of course you admired your best friend, she was one of the first people you had met when you had started attending Hogwarts and you had been friends since the day one. So you suppressed the pain.

You were thankful, though. If it wasn´t for her, you would have never met Draco. The truth was, you had fallen in love with him thanks to her.  

***

You had always thought he was this spoiled, evil, good-for-nothing prat and bully until Angelica introduced the two of you. You immediately clicked. You were both a little reserved. It wasn´t natural for Draco to spend time with non-Slytherins and you could see he was just as nervous as you were. To be honest, he hadn´t wanted to meet you. “One Gryffindor is enough.”

But he did.

And your friendship blossomed.  

No one questioned when you two were studying together or walked the halls of the castle together. Angelica had paved the way for you. But at the end of the day, it was still her bed and still her lips he couldn´t get enough of.

***

“Hey, stop staring, you look like a psycho,” one of your friends elbowed you and you quickly shook yourself out of your trance. “I´m not staring,” you swiftly replied, “I just got lost in my thoughts,” she was looking at you. Other friends were too. They weren´t blind but they understood your situation. That´s why no one had said anything so far. Then you noticed Angelica standing up and walking towards you. Did she see me? It was your first thought.

“Hey, bestie, Slytherins are having this secret party tonight. Blaise managed to steal some liquor from Slughorn the other day. And guess what, Y/N, you and I are invited!” she squealed. You were looking at her. Quiet. A Slytherin party? More of her and Draco being all over each other? Nah. “I´m sorry Angie, but I can´t. I have to stud-,” you were cut off by her furrowed brows and annoyed voice, “Study? Again? You always “have to” study, lately! It´s like you don´t even want to spend time with me anymore,” she put her two index and middle fingers in the air to mimic quotes.

Well, this wasn´t entirely false. You wanted to spend time with her, but not with her and Draco. “I´m sorry, Angie. I can´t.” you stood up, took your things and walked as fast as possible. You couldn´t go. It was already too much for you and Angelica was starting to notice that something was off.

You plopped yourself onto the grass and watched the Black Lake vibrating peacefully under the slightest touch of wind. How could you let this get so far? There was something calming about the goosebumps forming on your body from the wind. You closed your eyes and let out the frustration with a deep exhale.

“You´re a huge ass sometimes, you know that Malfoy?” you snarled at Draco who had managed to take your textbooks. You had been studying by the Black Lake but your mischievous friend had had other ideas. “You still love me though,” he smirked, and your cheeks turned red. Oh he was right. So right. He climbed onto the tree. “Let´s see,” and opened your textbook. “Draco, please, I really need to study! Can´t you go bully someone else? Perhaps someone who won´t punch you in the face like I will?” you stood under the tree with your hands on your hips, looking up at the happy face of the platinum haired boy.

“... then chop the valerian, add it to cauldron, and apply a high heat…” he read out loud. “Draco, are you seriously going to read my notes? Out loud?” you were getting nervous. “After that, juice…” suddenly, his loud, in that moment annoying voice stopped. His eyes roamed something in your book. His face changed. He was… in awe. “Draco? What did y-,”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy. Birthday, 5th June. Hair, pearly white. Eyes, grey like the ocean during a storm. An intelligent Slytherin. Amazing seeker. His favourite class is potions. Sorry, potions with Snape. Best friend, Blaise Zabini. Even though he just said he likes to spend time reading books more than spending time with him. His favourite colour is green, pft, so cliché. He loves apples. The green ones. Because, again, he loves green.” He was now looking at you. Your palms were on your forehead and your eyes were wide. Your words stuck.

“You really wrote down everything I told you about myself?” he couldn´t believe. You were still quiet, not really knowing what to say. Cheeks red, heart racing. “Y/N that´s… that´s amazing,” he was smiling. Draco jumped down from the tree, coming closer to you, handing you your textbooks. “I don´t want to forget anything,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes that were now tracing your face. His lips were slightly apart. You could smell his scent. Vetiver and apples would definitely become your favourite after being so close to Draco.

“Oh there you two are! I was looking for you all over the castle!” Angelica exclaimed and planted Draco a kiss on his cheek. You snapped out of your trance, looking at them. “Hey,” Draco turned to her and planted one on her lips. You raised your eyebrows a little and picked up your stuff, leaving them there.

“Hey! Y/N! Where are you going?” Draco yelled after you. But you acted like you didn´t hear him.

You really didn´t want to go. At first you hadn´t thought you´d be affected. But you were surely starting to be and being around them was just unbearable. It had even led you to consider cutting the ties and burning the bridges. But every time Draco had looked at you, you just couldn´t go through with it.

“My missus keeps complaining, Y/N, save me please,” you heard a voice behind you, and you rolled your eyes, keeping them fixated on the lake. “Oh, so now she sends you to talk some sense into me?” you snapped and pulled your knees closer to your chest. As if sending him was supposed to help. “You know how she is,” he sat down beside you, “she misses you. I miss you too, to be honest,” his voice was low and gentle. Your mind was running around how he just called her his missus. You couldn´t hide that it had made you a little angrier.

“I´m not going, Malfoy,” you stated coldly, putting your chin in between your knees. “Malfoy?” he laughed lightly, “someone´s grumpy. What happened?” his hand landed on your back and your alarm went off. He couldn´t keep doing that. “Nothing. I just don´t feel like socializing,” you answered and stood up the second his hand started to run circles on your back. He grabbed your hand.

“Y/N, please. I just want to make her happy,” oh damn his mixed signals, “and you make her happy.” What were you supposed to do? What were you supposed to say? It made you sick to your stomach. “I´m sorry, Draco, but as I said I-,”

“See! Here´s the Draco! You´re warming up to me again,” he laughed, “please, just sit down,”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? I will make you…,” he smirked and you looked down at him and at his hand still holding yours. Suddenly he let go of your palm and wrapped his arms around your legs, making you fall down onto the ground, pinning your hands above your head. “See, I told you,” he snickered and you started kicking your legs, your yelling slowly turning into laughing. He hovered above you.

“I swear I´ll kick you in your balls,” you growled but a smile was trying to form on your lips. “You wouldn´t…” he looked at you, face all serious, then turning into a wide grin. He was on top of you and your heart was beating just too fast for your comfort. All this was leaving you confused and furious. Your face fell. You pushed him off. “Enough, Draco,” you whispered, stood up and made your way to your dorm.

***

“Are you sure you don´t want to go?” your roommate asked you, handing you your own stolen firewhisky. “Why would I want to go?” you scoffed, drinking it like water. You were already a little buzzed. “To tell him. Everything. Or to yell at him. To scold him, lecture him, whatever, Y/N. But you should do something,” she said and took the bottle back. Something in you snapped.

Probably that was why you were now fairly drunk, stomping down the corridor to the Slytherin common room. You didn´t know what you planned to tell him, but you now knew you had to say something. You were already losing him to Angelica. Nothing mattered anymore.

“Y/N?” a voice echoed through the corridor and you turned around just to face the one boy you had been hoping to see, “I thought you didn´t want to come,” his eyebrows were raised but face still, emotionless. He almost looked annoyed.

“I didn´t. But I need to speak with you,” you stated, words a little sloppy. He narrowed his eyes. “Are you drunk?” he asked and took a step closer. You ran your hand through your hair. “Maybe. But that doesn´t matter. I´m angry with you,” you said boldly and lifted your chin. “That´s why you came? You said you´ve had enough of me.” Oh, so he was angry too.

“Are you really telling me you´re mad because I said that? Can´t you see what you´re doing to me?!” you really tried not to scream but when the Slytherin door opened Draco immediately dragged you into a dark corner. Loud music came out of the room but died down as the door closed. Your bodies were pressed together, hearts beating fast. His eyes fell on you and his hand rested on your waist. The time felt like it was frozen. But you pushed him away, again.

“See? I can´t be near you, Draco. Because every time that I am, I feel like a lunatic! You make me weak and I hate it. I can´t be friends with you anymore. I don´t love you like a friend,” there was a smile growing on his face, but you continued, “And you must be fucking blind not to see it. So I am sorry, but I can´t see you if I can´t have you. I-“ you were cut off.

By his lips.

On yours.

He pressed you against the wall and you let out a small whimper. He was rough. Almost hungry. His hand was at the back of your head, grabbing your hair as tight as he could, while he supported himself against the wall with the other. Your hands sneaked around his neck, to his hair and back to his cheeks. He was kissing you. You were kissing him. But he wasn´t yours to kiss. He was Angelica´s. He belonged to someone else. You stopped.

“Draco,” your breaths were heavy and deep, “this isn´t right.” He looked at you and caressed your cheek. “But it feels right…” he whispered and started leaving light kisses on your neck. “What about Angie?” you tried to stay focused but it was almost impossible. “I don´t care about Angie… you know that,” did you? “I´ve always cared about you. I thought you didn´t like me like that…”, he stated. You cupped his face. “Draco. Listen to me. I can´t be kissing you, when you´re with her. Make your choice. I did mine. You know where to find me,” you said and let him go. You lightly pushed him and walked away, leaving him to think through what you just said. But he didn´t have to.

He loved you. Just like you loved him. He had been feeling the same confusion, the same anger and had had same dilemma. It had been you all along. The way you knew him. Every single detail, because you cared. The way you looked at him and spoke to him. He knew he loved you and there was nothing to think about. A smile grew on his face as he turned around to run after you. To grab you, hold you, spin your around. Maybe he had liked Angie at first, but it was you he loved. It was his girlfriend´s best friend. And now that he knew your feelings towards him there was nothing that could stop him.

“I knew it,” he stopped as a voice bounced from the walls. His tall figure turned back around just to meet the eyes of a girl he had betrayed.

“That you love her,” her hands were folded on her chest and her gaze was cold. She was slowly approaching him. “But here´s the thing, Draco. You are mine. If you go running after her, I´m not going to ruin your life, but hers. I am going to make sure she´ll never finish school. I am going to make sure, she´ll be in constant danger. I am going to make sure she´ll believe in every single rumour about you. I am going to break her heart. Because no one takes what´s mine.”

[khaleesiofalicante]

LIGHTWOOD BANES WEEK - ALEC & RAFE

“All good?” Alec knocked on the door.

He sounded calm - but only because he tried his best not to sound as excited as felt. He had been waiting for this day for quite a long time and he couldn’t believe it was all happening.

There was no response from the other side so Alec knocked again. No response. Maybe Rafe had overslept. Alec did notice that the light in the room hadn't gone out till early morning.

“Alright, I am coming in,” Alec said and gently pushed the door open.

He saw his son sitting on the bed, still in his purple pyjamas, hugging his knees to his chest. He kept his eyes to the floor and avoided Alec’s worried gaze. Alec didn't know what was wrong but he wished Magnus was here - he would know how to deal with this.

His way of dealing with it would of course to make an ill timed joke. Maybe Alec should try that.

“I know your bapa taught you that being fashionably late is cool,” Alec said with a grin. “But you can't be late to your own rune ceremony, buddy.”

Rafe looked up with an incredulous look on his face, he seemed a little exasperated. Alright maybe Alec wasn't the funny dad. So he tried to use his own tactics.

He knelt down in front his son and scanned Rafe’s face. “I know it is a little scary to get your first rune, but it doesn't hurt as much as you think, I promise. You are a shadowhunter. You will get used to it.”

Rafe looked away.

“What if I didn't want to be a shadowhunter?”

Something in Alec’s heart stopped or broke or burst into a million pieces. He wasn't sure and it didn't matter. He wasn't concerned by the heart inside his body. He was concerned about the little heart in front of him.

“Rafael,” Alec said softly. “What's wrong?”

The boy took a deep breath and looked up at him. “I am not just any shadowhunter, am I?”

Alec cocked his head in confusion.

“I am not just any shadowhunter,” Rafael repeated. “I am a Lightwood.”

Alec couldn’t help but smile a little at that and put his hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “Yes. Yes, you are. You’re a Lightwood.”

Rafael pushed it away. “But I am not, aren't I?”

“What do you mean?” Alec asked, genuinely confused.

“I am both a Lightwood and I am not,” Rafael explained frustratedly.

“Rafe, wha-”

“I am the son of the Consul, a hero of the Dark War and the founder of the Shadowhunter Downworlder Alliance,” Rafael said as if he was reciting a practiced speech.

Alec would have blushed in any other situation but right now he was only worried. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Rafe shook his head. “You did everything right and I...I am just worried that I won't.”

“Rafael,” Alec sighed. “You are not me. You don't have to do what I did or do.”

“But it isn't just about you,” Rafael bit his lip. “It’s all of you. Every single one. Aunt Izzy is one of the best fighters in the world. Abuelo was the freaking inquisitor and Uncle Jace...Well, he is Uncle Jace.”

Alec didn't know what to do. In this head, he heard Magnus’s voice when he spoke to Max when their blueberry got too stressed during their magic lessons.

“Smell the flowers and blow the candles,” Magnus would tell their son.

Alec took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

“Do you want me to tell you that you are going to be great just like all of us?” Alec asked, even though he knew the answer.

“No, I don't want you do that,” Rafael said stubbornly. “Because I know I won't be.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because I am not a Lightwood, dad,” Rafael almost shouted. “Not really. I am just..I am just some boy you found in the streets. So whatever genes that make you the rest of you amazing and awesome and cool and perfect - it’s not gonna work for me.”

Alec stared at his son then. Rafael's body was hunched as if he was protecting himself from everything the world was going through at him after today.

It wasn't easy being a shadowhunter - and it definitely wasn't easy being a Lightwood.

Rafael looked at him in the eye then, his lips wobbling a little. “I am scared I won't be good enough.”

He looked at those tiny little shoulders and realized the amount of pressure that sat on them. Alec had once been worried about not being able to fill the shoes of his ancestors - of not being able to bring his parents glory. He had been terrified of not being good enough to bear his family name. The Lightwood name.

Now his son was feeling the very same. Alec wondered whether all shadowhunters felt this way at one point or another.  

“Listen,” Alec said gently. “Izzy is the best at what she does because she trains every single day. Not because she is a Lightwood. Yes, my dad was the inquisitor but he wasn't perfect. Lightwoods make mistakes too. And regardless of whether he is a Lightwood or a Herondale or Wayland, Uncle Jace is Uncle Jace not because he was born to be that person but because he choose to be. And I...I might be the Consul but I was a scared little boy for a long time too.”

Rafael still looked unconvinced and frustrated and stubborn.

“I am not going to say your last name doesn't matter. It does and it always will. We are treated differently than others because of our last name. We have been given chances and opportunities because of our last name.”

“Your tutor,” Raphael said weakly. “He was punished worse...”

Magnus and Alec had decided long ago that it was imperative for their children to know their history - all of it and from all sides.

“He got the worst of it and my parents didn't - because they are Lightwoods,” Alec admitted.

Alec looked at his son and spoke in a tone that Magnus often called his ‘Consul voice’.

“It is an honour to be a Lightwood. Our name has power and privilege,” Alec told his son. “But it is also a responsibility.”

Rafael nodded meekly. “I am responsible to uphold our family name?” his son asked in a quiet tone.

“No,” Alec said. “You are responsible to use this power and privilege to help those who don't have it.”

Rafael looked up then.

“You are not wrong to be afraid, Rafe. You are a smart kid and you are right. People will see you differently and hold you accountable to higher standards. I know it's not fair. Sometimes it can be difficult. People will always expect you to be a certain way because of your last name or your gender or your race or so many other things...But you need to be true to yourself. That’s what it means to be a Lightwood.”

Rafael sat up straight, listening intently now.

“Your mandate as a shadowhunter is to defend what is good and protect what is innocent,” Alec said firmly. “But your mandate as a Lightwood is to fight for yourself.”

“Like you did?” Rafe asked, his lips curving, just a little.

“And like so many others before,” Alec smiled. “Some day soon, your bapa will tell you about other Lightwoods who fought for themselves - Christopher and Anna and Thomas and so many others.”

Rafael actually smiled then - he always liked listening to his bapa’s stories.

“If you don't want to be a shadowhunter, then we will not force you,” Alec said seriously now. “All we want is for you to be happy. To be yourself.”

“I do want to be a shadowhunter,” Rafael confessed in a whisper. “I am just...scared. I am scared that I won't be good enough. I am scared that people will think I am not good enough.”

“As was I, Rafe,” Alec said softly, rubbing his son’s cheek. “I sometimes still feel like I am not good enough. When you feel that way, just give your best shot and remember that it is more than enough. It doesn't matter what other people think or say. That’s one more Lightwood trait for you. We don't let other people tell us who we are. We decide it for ourselves.”

“But I do care about what you think," Rafael said in a small voice. "Do you think I'm gonna be a good shadowhunter?”

“100%," Alec said without hesitation.

“How do you know?” Rafe asked skeptically.

“Because you are not even a shadowhunter yet and you are already trying to figure out how to be a good one,” Alec laughed. “A good fighter is always prepared. You are going to be just fine.”

“Because my last name is Lightwood?” Rafael teased.

“Because your last name is Lightwood-Bane,” Alec corrected with a grin. “Now I know there aren't many Banes and I myself know only one. But he is the best man I know.”

“He is the best I man I know too,” Rafe grinned. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Alec grinned back.

“Okay then,” Rafael hopped off the bed and walked towards his closet - which was larger than Alec’s own. “Let’s get dressed for my big day.”

“I am afraid my amazing, awesome, cool and perfect Lightwood genes are not going to be very helpful here,” Alec ruffled his son’s hair. 

Rafael giggled as he excitedly picked a red shirt from his closet. Alec looked at his son and walked back and knelt down again.

“I just want you to remember one thing,” Alec stared into his son’s eyes. “You were never just some boy found in the streets. I knew you were mine the moment I saw you. I knew you were my baby even then.”

“I know, dad,” Rafael replied shyly.  

“No matter what anyone says, you are a Lightwood and you will always be my son.”

Rafael put his arms around his neck and hugged Alec tightly. “I know. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alec kissed the top of his head and walked back to the door. “Now hurry up and get dressed. Your Consul commands it.”

“Boludo,” he heard his son chuckle and Alec couldn't help but chuckle himself.