#i don't understand it. i never have. and it feels almost restricting to me in a way

[eyesoftxmorrow]

i wish i could love in a way that matters

[chvoswxtch]

revelation

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: billy's questioning leads to more than one epiphany you weren't ready for.

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, lots of angst, billy being the shithead he is

word count: 4.2k

a/n: I know y'all were big mad at me last update. I don't know if this one makes up for it or not. but...enjoy. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Flickers of flesh colored light began to flash in your brain. It was as if each of your senses were rebooting one by one, your body slowly clawing its way out of the darkened abyss you’d been lost in. Murmurs of conversation and clinks of metal crept into your eardrums. While that sickly sweet artificial chemical taste lingered on your tongue, a dull throbbing was emanating from the back of your head. Trying to inhale a deep breath, a familiar strong cologne seemed to flip the switch of consciousness. 

“Ah, there she is.”

As your eyes fluttered open, you fought through the haze of disorientation, forcing your vision to clear. A blur of green approached slowly, and after blinking a few times, the fuzzy silhouette came into focus. Billy knelt down in front of you, a serpentine smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. 

Your bones felt like they were made of stone, but when you tried to move, you realized it wasn’t just a mental restriction, but also a physical one. Glancing downwards, you saw that your wrists and legs had been bound to the chair you were in with black leather straps. White hot rage struck through your nervous system like a bolt of lightning. 

“What the hell is going on?”

“You tell me.”

“I'm the one tied to a chair here, asshole.”

Billy let out an amused chuckle at your sharp snap, his dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Just a precaution, darlin’. I've seen you in action, and I like my face the way it is.”

Narrowing your eyes in resentment, your lips were set in a tight line as you clenched your jaw while simultaneously clenching your fists. Billy’s eyes flickered down to your hands before returning to your heated glare, and he let out a deep exhale through his nose. Standing up fully, he grabbed a wooden crate to his left and dragged it over towards you. After sitting down on the edge of it and folding his arms over his chest, he gave a faint nod of his head in your direction.

“I need to know what you know.”

“About what?”

“Frank and Madani.”

Pure annoyance laced with confusion quickly creased between your brows, and your exasperation was evident in your tone.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Billy. That’s what this is about? I told you I don't know anything. Okay, whatever you and Madani have Frank working on-”

Billy suddenly cut you off, snapping his fingers before pointing his index finger in your direction.

“Ah, see, that right there. Madani and I don't work together. We never have. Anvil has a contract with Homeland, but my business is with them, not her.”

Billy paused for a moment, letting those words linger in the air. He searched your face for any flicker of recognition that would give you away, but all he could see in your expression was perplexity. And that you were royally pissed off. Either you had one hell of a poker face, or you truly didn’t know anything. He was determined to find out.

“And I haven't assigned anything to Frank in almost two months, because he told me he needed some personal time to take care of somethin’. So imagine my surprise when you tell me that he’s got some business goin’ on with me and Madani.”

Every word that left Billy’s lips left you feeling confused. It was like he was single handedly ripping up the pieces of what you thought you knew regarding this entire situation with Frank. The ferocity of your anger dulled slightly, becoming overshadowed by disillusionment. 

“I…I don't understand.”

“Well that makes two of us.”

In an instant, your brain began to replay every single conversation with Frank over the last two months, trying to figure out what you were missing. You could feel in your gut that the answer was right in front of your face, but you were struggling to figure it out, and it left you feeling immensely frustrated. Dropping your gaze to the concrete floor beneath your feet, your eyes darted back and forth, like you were reading some invisible text written in the cracks.

I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’. 

It’s personal.

Those were the key phrases that kept popping up in your head. They were the ones sticking out from the rest, and your foggy brain was relentlessly trying to figure out why. Closing your eyes, you tried to shift your mindset. You had to treat this like a story. You had to walk through what you knew, sort through the pieces Frank had given you, and connect the red string on the mental evidence board in your brain.

Thinking back to the conversation where you’d confronted Frank at his apartment about his strange behavior, you willed your brain to focus on what he’d said, and how he said it.

“He…he said he had a new assignment.”

Billy had been watching you closely, paying attention to the flash of varying emotions crossing your face. He could see that you were trying to figure something out in your head, and your words made him sit up straighter. 

“What did he say the assignment was?”

You remembered Frank looking remorseful as he sat on his couch, trying to explain the situation, but he had also looked…guarded. He didn’t maintain eye contact with you the entire time, which was strange, and when he did look at you, there had been something in his eyes besides guilt. It was a flicker of something you couldn’t decipher, because he was hiding it from you. Whatever it was, he didn’t want you to see it.

“He didn’t. He just said it was personal. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it.”

“What did he tell you?”

That feeling of frustration you’d felt during that initial conversation bubbled up once again, and you let out an irritated exhale through your nose as you opened your eyes and tilted your head back to look upwards. Wherever Billy had you, it appeared to be underground. There weren’t any windows, and the fluorescent overhead lights were harsh, aggravating your sensitive eyes. You swiftly shut them again to block out the light, trying hard to conjure that memory of Frank once more.

But all you could see was your mother. The unpleasant glare above brought you back to a sterile hospital room, and instead of Frank’s deep voice, you heard the daunting beeping on the machines that had controlled her fate with their wires, and the struggle of her labored breathing. Her body had turned against her, stolen her time, but it hadn’t been able to take her feisty spirit. 

Clenching your fists, you tried desperately to escape the memory, but your mother had always been as stubborn as you were. The phantom feeling of the chilled flesh that barely covered the bones of her hand touching your skin felt so real and vivid, you didn’t know if Billy had knocked you out again or not.

Her familiar voice from one of her last good moments, exhausted with illness, but still melodic with whimsy, played in your ears.

“Can you force the tide to come back to the shore?”

A furrow of confusion had settled between your brows at her interjection, and you’d refocused your attention from the book in your hands towards her.

“Did they up your meds?”

“Ha ha ha, smartass.”

Setting down the book you’d been reading her, you smiled at ever present sarcasm, and you’d rolled your eyes playfully.

“No mom, I can’t force the tide to come back to the shore.”

“And why is that?”

There had been a glimmer of playfulness in her eyes, even though they were slightly sunken in and surrounded by dark circles. You had resisted the urge to answer literally about gravity and the moon, and instead let her continue with whatever point she was trying to make.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

She’d reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, and her skin had been so cool to the touch, felt so fragile, it had made your heart constrict in your chest.

“Because it comes on its own. You just have to be patient, and let it come to you.”

Patience had never been your strong suit, especially when it came to putting things together, or trying to figure something out. If something didn’t click fast enough, you would get frustrated and try to coerce it, to make it make sense, which usually never worked in your favor. It wasn’t until you stopped trying so hard and took a step back that you had your biggest breakthroughs. Clearly, it was a lesson you were still trying to learn.

“Y/N. What did Frank say-”

“Can you shut the hell up? I’m trying to think.”

Billy narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips when you snapped at him through your gritted teeth, but he obliged. Letting out a quiet shaky breath, you resisted the urge to give into the emotions building up behind your eyelids from that memory. You slowly unclenched your fists and relaxed your jaw. 

Quit trying to force fragments together. Focus. Let it come to you.

Instead of rushing through the memories and waiting for the answers to pop out, you replayed them slowly, carefully analyzing over every frame, dissecting every word. Frank had been very cautious with his phrasing, but that wasn’t a coincidence. 

I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’. 

Madani gave me some intel. 

Madani needed someone she could trust.

“He said that he was helping Madani-”

Madani. Frank said he was helping Madani. Not once had Frank mentioned Billy. He had only ever said Dinah’s name. 

Opening your eyes, you slowly lowered your head, looking straight forward at Billy. He arched one of his dark brows, an expectant look on his face.

“Said he was helpin’ Madani with what?”

For a moment you stared at Billy in complete silence. Something wasn’t right. As soon as you had let it slip in your office that Frank was working with Madani, Billy had physically reacted. There was something that had flashed in his eyes, darkening them to momentary blackness. His voice was cold when he’d questioned you about it, almost…angry. You’d initially thought it was because he thought you knew something you weren’t supposed to about Frank’s “assignment”. 

But now you realized it was because he didn’t know about it.

“Why didn’t Frank tell you?”

There was unmistakable suspicion in your voice, and it visibly caught Billy off guard. He narrowed his eyes slightly, cocking his head to the side as he looked at you.

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to figure out.”

Frank hadn’t mentioned anything about what he was doing with Madani to Billy, his best friend. The man he served side by side with for years, had formed a brotherhood with, who he had considered part of his family. That made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and a dreadful chill straightened your spine. He hadn’t been able to tell you exactly what was going on, but he’d at least given you something. 

Frank had mentioned owing Madani a debt, but he was loyal to a fault, and the fact that he hadn’t told Billy set off warning bells in your head. But Billy’s extreme reaction to being purposefully left in the dark was what set your nervous system ablaze with unease. 

The idea of Frank working with Madani without his knowledge seemed to set Billy off, triggering a volatile chain of events. He’d drugged you, kidnapped you from Curtis’ apartment, was essentially holding you hostage, and now he was interrogating you to figure out what you knew. 

One of Frank’s cryptic explanations abruptly parted through the lingering clouds of fogginess in your brain, shedding a blinding light on the most important piece that had been hidden in the shadows of your subconscious. 

“Oh my God.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper and shrouded in disbelief.

It’s connected to someone I know.

You remembered how Frank had stiffened when he’d said that, how his face had hardened to stone. His voice had been quiet, layered with an ominous undertone and barely concealed vitriol. He’d nearly morphed into a man you didn’t recognize right in front of your eyes, and it had made you shiver with discomfort.

And suddenly it clicked. Betrayal. That cold flicker in his eyes he tried to hide was betrayal.

“It’s you.”

Billy watched as the canvas of your face morphed into a portrait of realization and horror.

He visibly stiffened at those words, his lips pressing into a firm line, emphasizing the sharpness of his jaw. 

Billy. All of this was because of Billy. Whatever Madani had found, it was connected to him. That’s why she brought it to Frank. Little moments started to stand out in your head that made you wonder just how long ago Madani had planted the seed of doubt in Frank’s mind. Looking back, he’d acted strangely when you’d mentioned Billy’s name recently, but it was so subtle that you hadn’t even picked up on it.

But him being adamant about leaving you with Curtis, someone you’d never even heard about or met until yesterday, should've been a huge clue.

Knowing that what was causing the divide between you and Frank was none other than the man currently standing in front of you and whatever he had done, you were swiftly filled with an anger that turned your blood molten. Your disbelief and horror slowly hardened into a wall of ice, but your eyes were aflame with resentment.

“What did you do.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation, and the way you grit it through your teeth demanded an answer. Billy’s eyes showed no hint of remorse, and he made no attempt to correct whatever conclusions you were drawing in your head in regards to his character. He rose to his feet, taking a step forward to tower over you, staring down into the flames of rancor blazing in your eyes with a steely gaze of his own. 

“I made something of myself.”

His voice was crisp and clear. There was no layer of apology, no waver of regret. Whatever he’d done, Billy felt justified in it. 

His arrogance had always pissed you off.

Slowly tilting your head to the side, you stared up at him in clear challenge, your tone razor sharp and dripping with venom.

“Yeah? What did it cost?”

The edge of his mouth twitched at your taunt. Grabbing your wrists that were strapped down to the arms of the chair, he leaned forward, getting right in your face as he spoke in an aggravated tone.

“I wasn't handed nothin’. I had to earn everything I got. I had to make some tough decisions along the way, maybe did a few things I'm not so proud of. Empires aren’t built without sacrifice.”

One of the last things Billy had said to you that day in your office when you’d mentioned Frank working with Madani was that some secrets were better left buried. That choice of phrasing left you with a gut feeling that it wasn’t what Billy had left buried, but who. 

“But you didn’t sacrifice anything, did you Billy? No…you sacrificed someone, and it’s come back to haunt you. So who was it? Someone important to Dinah? Or to Frank?”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Billy snapped, suddenly getting defensive. His dark brown eyes had eclipsed into pools of disdain, and his lips were twisted into a faint snarl.

“I’m not lettin’ that bitch destroy everything I built.”

Rising to his full height once again, Billy’s expression shifted back into a passive and more controlled one as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“I’m gonna send Frankie an invite to do a little trade, you for whatever he’s got.”

Letting out a dry scoff, you shook your head as you stared up at him.

“You’re really more concerned about losing your wealth than your best friend?”

“If he digs too deep, he’s gonna find somethin’ he ain’t gonna like, and the war he waged on New York is gonna look like a fuckin’ daydream compared the nightmare he’s gonna bring to my doorstep.”

Billy’s words seemed to pour over you like a bucket of ice, your fiery rage fizzling into frozen perplexity.

“War on New York? What are you talking about?”

Billy’s eyes flickered up from the phone in his hand, meeting your confused gaze. He arched one of his dark brows, looking at you curiously. 

“Oh c’mon, you haven’t figured it out yet? You’re a clever girl. You didn’t put together the pieces I gave you?”

“What pieces?”

“The gift I left on your desk.”

The file. The one that had Frank’s name on it. You’d had a sneaking suspicion Billy was the one that left it, but you never asked him about it, or paid it any attention after your argument with Frank. A furrow of annoyance settled between your brows.

“I never read it.”

Billy seemed genuinely surprised by that, and also confused.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t my business, and Frank found it anyway and took it.”

He eyed you silently for a moment before slipping his phone back into his pocket and sitting back down on the edge of the crate. Billy cocked his head to the side slightly.

“He tell you how his family died?”

Immediately, you went rigid. A wave of emotions crested within you. The recollection of Frank’s vulnerability in opening up about his tragic loss was fresh. It wasn’t something you’d forget anytime soon, or ever. Hearing the grief in his voice, seeing the pain in his eyes; the worst day of Frank’s life was seared into your memory as deeply as the memory of your own. Billy bringing it up so casually incensed you all over again.

“Why does that matter?”

Billy let out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose at your defensive tone. 

“Did he tell you how they died?”

He repeated his words in a more firm voice, holding your heated gaze.

“Yes, you dick. What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Instead of being angry at your insult, a smirk curled at the edge of Billy’s mouth. There was a wicked gleam in his eye, and it filled you with a sickening feeling of foreboding. 

“Pop quiz, sweetheart. Who were the three gangs the Punisher took out?”

Bewilderment wiped any lingering emotion from your face. Billy’s question seemed to send a shock through your brainwaves, causing a delay between it and your mouth.

“What?”

“C’mon, this is an easy one. You wrote an article about the guy. Who were they?”

Billy’s eyes twinkled with amusement under the harsh fluorescents, clearly enjoying knowing something you didn’t. He was taunting you, and despite knowing better than to give into his little game, your curiosity got the better of you.

“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the Mexican Cartel.”

Billy’s lips spread into a pleased smirk at your reluctant answer, and he gave you a faint not of his head.

“Good girl. Now, you had a uh, mentor, at the Bulletin. Ben, right?” 

The mention of Ben’s name sent a pang through you, but Billy’s sudden switch in topics from the Punisher’s victims to Ben gave you mental whiplash. He didn’t give you more than a second to react before he continued.

“He wrote an article a few years ago about a little shootout, ended in a massacre. Remind me, where was that?”

Anxiety shot through you, making every single hair on your body stand to attention. 

“Central Park.”

“And there was one survivor. What was his name?”

The apprehension you felt was evident in the way you lightly gripped onto the arms of the chair. You hadn’t known that answer when Ben originally worked on that article, but you knew it now. Trying to keep up the strong front you were putting on, you attempted to keep your voice even.

“His name was never released.”

“No, it wasn’t. But when he woke up from that coma and found out his entire family had been killed in that shootout, he sure as hell made sure that New York would never forget the one they gave him.”

Billy watched the way your expression transitioned from translucent coolness, to perplexity, and finally wary hesitance. Keeping his eyes locked on you, he slowly rose from the crate, stalking towards you, but instead of coming to a stop in front of you like he had earlier, he began to circle you like a predator. 

“Tell me sweetheart, who was there that day?”

“Why does that-”

“Just answer the question.”

Letting out a sharp exhale through your nose, you began to rattle off the details you remembered from the article.

“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the-”

Immediately, you froze. Billy came to a stop behind you, and you could almost feel the way he was staring at the back of your head intensely.

“And?”

His voice was calm, but you could detect a hint of amusement. He was enjoying this, forcing you to solve his little riddle. But this time, you didn’t want to put the pieces together. You didn’t want to solve this puzzle. You wanted to run away from it. 

“The Mexican Cartel.”

The words were barely a decibel above a whisper when they left your lips, but in the silence of the space, they seemed to roar in your ears. Your hands were now gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that your knuckles had gone stark white, the flesh stretched taut over the bone. 

Feeling Billy’s hands settle on your shoulders, you flinched, and he squeezed them roughly in response. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck as he bent down to speak directly into your ear.

“What’s his name?”

Billy was a master manipulator. He was toying with you, trying to get a rise out of you by messing with your head. That’s all this was. It was a cruel trick, trying to make you think that the man who had single handedly wiped out the three largest gangs in New York City was the John Doe from the hospital. The he was-

“C’mon, you’re a smart girl. I can see the gears turning in your head. You know his name. Tell me who the Punisher-”

“The Punisher is dead.”

The sharpness and volume of your voice seemed to echo around the space you were currently trapped in. 

“Dead, huh?”

Billy gave your shoulders another firm squeeze before letting go and appearing in front of you again. He looked down at you, taking in the way your eyes were wide open, your breathing had become ragged, and your nails nearly bled from digging them into the wood of the chair so hard. He knelt down in front of you, brushing your hair away from your face, causing you to flinch at his touch, which seemed to annoy him.

He ran his hand through the strands of his raven hair, pushing it back into its perfectly gelled style as he let out a deep exhale through his nose and glanced around absentmindedly.

“He should be. Shoulda died a long time ago. Hell, that bullet to the head shoulda put him down for good. But that stubborn son of a bitch just refuses to die.”

Shutting your eyes, you could see Frank in the cabin. The golden sunlight coming through the window, shining on his tan skin. His warm brown eyes locked on yours, making you feel like he could see right into your soul. The roughness of his calloused palms stroking your cheek while tucking your hair behind your ear. The velvet baritone of his voice echoing in your ears.

We uh…we were at Central Park. We had this uh…this tradition, ya’know. Every time I came home from a tour, we’d pack a picnic and go, make a whole day of it. 

I don’t uh…I don’t remember when the shootin’ started.

I…made peace with it, ya’know…laid it to rest in my own way. 

It was there. It was right there. Frank had inadvertently told you the truth that day, and you hadn’t even realized.

Billy could see the revelation you’d had when you opened your eyes. He could see the evidence of the truth shining along your bottom lash line. You were so thunderstruck by your epiphany, you didn’t budge this time when Billy reached out to brush a stray tear away from your face.

“Nah, he ain’t dead sweetheart. He's been right by your side this whole time. And when he finds out I've got you, he’s gonna come for you.”

It didn’t matter what Frank had found on Billy. As soon as he found out what Billy had done to you, he was coming. But it wasn’t Frank who was coming.

It was the Punisher.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[leyyvi]

It's 3:04 in the afternoon when you're buried nose-deep in writing your research paper. And though you've been trying to focus on it for the last half hour, the only thing on your mind is literally all of the other things you need to get done. Clean your room, do the dishes, finish that late assignment (it's been almost a week now!) Shit. Too many things to do, and there's never enough hours in the day to feel like you can finish them.

You may or may not have been tipping over the edge of a breaking point for a while now.

But you've been convinced that it was hidden fairly well, at least from your friends. They don't press more than a simple "good luck with your paper" or "talk to you soon" when you tell them how busy you are.

However, your boyfriend definitely notices.

Levi isn't one to not speak his mind when something bothers him. In fact, he's pointed out several times in the last week that you shouldn't be overworking yourself. Out of anyone you know, Levi knows your limits the most. And he must see it where you don't, considering he's walked into your apartment with his copy of the key and is now standing over you, a paper bag in his hand as he glares down his nose.

"Hey," you mumble, turning back to your laptop screen in front of you. But the laptop is forced shut by a veiny hand, replaced with the plop of that same paper bag Levi was just holding. "Whats that?"

You pout when he slides the laptop down the dining table.

"Lunch. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know you are, don't fight me on this. Please just eat with me. Forget about your work for a minute."

He pulls out the boxes in the bag, revealing a couple of sandwiches. Fine, maybe you're a little hungry.

"You didn't answer my calls so I had to guess what you would've liked," Levi murmurs as he slides the boxes toward you. You mutter an apology, but he's not mad. He waves it off, simply telling you to eat and "stop worrying about shit for one damn second."

With anyone else, it might've pissed you off.

When you're absorbed in your work, it's hard to gather energy to talk to other people, let alone even take care of yourself. And yet, somehow, Levi is the one person who manages to read you like a book. For some reason, he's able to pick up on your bouts of silence and understand what you need. You always wondered how he can do that.

And though he's yet to say "I love you", you wonder if gestures like this are close enough to that.

He doesn't ask about work, merely sits with you and eats in silence. The brief moment of quiet feels good, comforting even. Especially in Levis presence. Despite his coarse language and tendency to maintain a glare most if not all times, you've always found him to be so... Stable. A steady wall to lean on when the world makes your stance tremble.

You really love that about him.

When you two have finished, Levi promptly cleans up the table. You assume it's okay to go back to work, but his hand lands on yours when you try to pull it back.

"You're done for the day," he says with a firm stare. The usual one he gives when he absolutely refuses to listen to any counterargument you might come up with. "We're gonna go for a walk, take you outside. Just get out of this shit and breathe some real fresh air."

"I'm not a dog," you grumble as he holds out his hand to you now to help you stand.

"Mhm," is all he says.

You two walk around the neighborhood, Levi having taken away your phone in an effort to keep you from too much more screen time. He'd return it if you really asked, but you're thankful for the restriction in all honesty.

Usually, Levi isn't the one to initiate an exorbitant amount of physical contact. It's you who tends to absentmindedly cling to his arm while you're talking. And it's generally you who comes up behind him to cover his eyes and make him guess who, despite the fact that he already knew just from the sound of your footsteps.

Most often, Levi does attend to little touches here and there. The back of your neck, the edge of your hip, the top of your thigh, along the line of your jaw. And now in this moment, it's when Levi steps up a little and takes your hand completely in his. It isn't anything new for you to hold hands, but it's rare for him to be initiator.

You appreciate that. Those moments where he's willing to be more brave about touching. It's calming, feeling his fingers between yours as your arms sway with every step.

"I'm sorry for being so short with you lately," you sigh, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk you step on. Levi always seems to make a subconscious effort not to step on them, even now.

"It's nothing. I'm always short with you, anyways..." He trails off quietly.

Your sudden snort startles him, obvious with the incredulous look on his face as you burst into a tiny fit of laughter. His brow raises in confusion.

"That wasn't even close to being a funny joke and you're still laughing?"

"It was funny to me! You're always funny."

"You're the only person in the whole world who thinks that."

"Must be why you're dating me, right?"

His hold tightens around your hand. "I'm dating you because I l-"

Levi cuts himself off and inhales through his nose, pushing his sunglasses up to hide his eyes as he recomposes himself. "I'm dating you for a multitude of reasons."

"You could be more specific."

"If you keep talking I'm gonna have fewer reasons," he clears his throat, hovering his free hand over his eyes to shield himself from the sun, leaving remnants of the summer's heat on his skin.

You smile, for the first time in a few days, actually. "I thought you were trying to make me feel better."

"Hmph." Clearly, Levi has nothing else to say.

[doromoni]

A Rivalry Misunderstood | LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x McLaren Driver! Reader

Genre : Angst , Romance

Warning : Toxic! Lando , Possessive! Lando

Summary : You’re the new Golden Rookie of McLaren F1 , a driver loved and accepted by everyone. But Lando may beg to differ.

masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Quickly passing by every motorhome as you joyfully skip through the paddock , signing merchandise and taking photos with the fans. The Sprint race had just finished — with you getting your first Formula 1 win as a rookie! Well technically, but you were happy either way. Congratulations and pats on the back were constant from your team and even competitors as you made your way towards your own motorhome.

Life as a rookie in formula 1 had its ups and downs , majority of the people around have been supportive. However, oddly enough, you expected the least person to be against you would be your teammate … yet, here we are. You never understood Lando’s dislike towards you , it was so out of the blue and you could not think of anything you could have done to earn his mistrust.

You were always on your best behavior, and you always made an effort to be friendly towards your senior driver. You always made sure that you were cautious and that you didn’t step on any toes.

Busy with your thoughts, you reached your motorhome. So here you are, walking towards your designated driver room. Nearing the hallway of your destination.Head filled with thoughts but at the same time empty, not noticing the built figure as you turned the corner. Both bodies weren't aware of the other person, bumping into each other with a thump.

The person was heavy for sure, a built composed of lean and hard muscles. How would you know? He was currently lying on top of you. You were pressed by his chest, while he was on top of you. Yup … definitely muscled, you can feel it through your fireproofs

" Urghh, watch where you're going " you groaned in pain. Suddenly , you were face to face with the your teammate, Lando Norris.

His face was painted with an expression you cannot understand ... His toned arms were beside your head, trapping you between him and the floor . You stared at your co-driver, his hazelnut brown wavy hair, dark emerald eyes as green as the amazon forest, and a jawline that could rival a sword.

Unconsciously, your hand trailed the bridge of his nose to the soft and plump lower lip that the man possessed.

" What the hell are you doing" Stopping yourself from examining him more, and finally connected the dots. You were pressed on the floor by Lando Norris! The person who hated you and wanted you gone.

Almost automatically, you put your hands on his chest — an effort to push him . But alas, your efforts were null, when he suddenly pinned your hands above your head.

Struggling from his iron grip, and sighing into submission and decided to use your brain rather than brawn. Since trying to force yourself out would do you no good, knowing that he was much stronger than you were.

Having enough of his attitude and his harsh treatment , you realized being nice was never going to work— and that you don’t actually care about what he thought of you. And for the first time with him , you set your foot down and served him the attitude that he served you all the time that you were his teammate.

"I think your male bravado is content now, right? having a girl defenseless and restricted. I suggest letting me go now " you felt his hold on your wrist grow even tighter.

Steeling your front , you stared back into his glare, challenging his piercing glare.

"Why? Do you have somewhere to go? Have more people to suck up to? Don't you think that's low ,even for you?" A dangerous glint in his eyes. And an animosity in his voice that you couldn't decipher. He drew his face closer to yours, you felt his breath on your cheeks , an inch more his lips would touch yours.

Suddenly finding the situation amusing, a chuckle slipped your lips. Your chuckling then turned into laughter, and this stunned Lando, as he stared at your face, still sharing the same breath.

He can’t beat you on track, so he now uses other tactics to up you. Funny.

"Funny, such accusation are done by you , don't you think? Oh that's right its because the team actually prefers me now over you. Now that I’ve actually given them a win... hmm or maybe we all should be like you and bow and cower when max’s car shows in the mirror? “

Of course that wasn’t true, you just wanted to aggravate the English driver more. Once again, you tried prying your hands off his grip.

"Shut the fuck up . You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. " Lando bit back with so much animosity. You were definitely scared now .

Realizing that you are in the middle of a hall way and is still beneath Lando, you once again struggled to push him off.

" You know what, let go of me! I need to go to the debriefing for Pete's sake" You started squiggling trying to move away from under him, when an deep growl vibrated through your ear, causing shivers down your spine and goosebumps littering the nape of your neck.

"Don't.Move" Hearing him swallow and steady his breath, you smirked as you lay still below him and glared into his eyes challenging him further

Lando finally lets go of you as he stood up. Scrambling to your feet and dusting yourself off ; adjusting your driver suit and fixing your hair. You the felt his stare on you.

"What? The hell are you staring at?" With a scowl, you folded your arms and returned his stare with a glare.

"You changed your fireproofs" You looked down at your clothes . Your race suit was half open and your fireproofs were showing.

"What? Even my uniform you've got issues with? Should I also have my uniform exactly like yours instead? " you asked with a sneer as you patted the crease on your pants

"Stop trying to be different from everyone on the team! Fucking mooching on every mechanic . Know. your. fucking. place “ The British driver said scathingly.

Suddenly pissed, you decided to provoke Lando even further. Having enough of his bullshit. You drew your body near his , going on your tippy toes and placing a delicate hand on his chest, slowly dragging your fingernails to draw patterns on his fireproofs, feeling him tense under my touch. Fuck it! You were already a slut in his eyes anyway.

Slowly moving your lips to his jaw then towards his ear and whispered

"Does that make you angry, hmm, Lando? little ol me taking your precious spotlight? People adoring me instead of you. “ You tutted , making sure your voice held rotting sweetness

“All eyes on me. Does that make your blood boil? You getting nothing while I have everything, Lando?" Adding emphasis on his name, you gently moved your hand towards his hair and pulled.

Feeling Lando freeze and grow rigid from your touch you chuckled, you were about to move away, when you felt a hand wrap around your waist and suddenly pinning you against the wall with force.

" Don't fucking test me princess. Your playing a dangerous game. No one will look at you, I'll make sure of that.... Don’t prance around trying to win everyone to your side, you’re only mine to look at “ His lips ghosting the shell of your earlobe as he pulled you into his embrace even tighter.

Your breath hitched when you felt his teeth nip your ear. His lips traveled down your jaw to your neck, harshly biting the skin he traveled. He licked the junction of your neck and your shoulder, sucking and lapping his tongue over the bite. He let out a moan while you whimpered.

" Baby? I Never knew you could taste this good" Speechless , you stared at him as he licked his lips, your mind trying to gather any thought it could process.

"Win all the races you want, I don’t care. But don’t fucking flirt with anyone … and I don’t care if he’s your engineer. " With a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze on your waist , Lando was gone

You stood shocked, heart pounding, in the deserted hallway,trying to piece everything that just happened.

[jennifer-jeong]

Reader plays LDS game and little does she know that the boys can feel her emotions whenever she plays it or whenever she gets the card or memories of her fav boy for example-Zayne and the other two gets jealous idk and how they wish to be real and be with her.......

HELLO I'M SORRY THIS TOOK ME A HOT SECOND I was stressing and thinking about how to approach this but I think I got it now >:) (also school and life is kicking my ass but we don't talk about that)

Fluff | LADS x GN!Reader "Virtual" Boyfriend

Rafayel sneak peak LMAOOO^

CONTENT Fluff, slight angst, gender neutral reader, Rafayel crack, mentions of the boys trauma, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

What I’m thinking is that the boys are conscious within the world of your phone. They can feel you and hear you but they can’t quite see you. You’re almost invisible in a way but they can feel your energy when you’re present. They feel it when you poke them in destiny cafe or touch them in the kindled memories. They hear your voice when you speak in game. They’ve lived the lives outlined for them in their lore and you’re who they’ve been searching for. They’re restricted in what they can say to you when you interact, it's some weird force they don’t understand. They know when you’re online but the same weird force prevents them from finding you, you have to go to them. (Zayne lives both lives of doctor and dawnbreaker, which he is happy about. He would’ve passed away if he had to be the one of two Zaynes to be dawnbreaker)

XAVIER hates that whoever made this world made him suffer for like a century only to have him find you and you aren’t even actually there. But he still loves feeling you there everyday, even if he's not the one that got chosen to sit in destiny cafe. Whenever you listen to his audios or interact with him through cards, destiny cafe, or playtime, his hands are shaky. It’s the only thing that he actually gets to express to you of his own free will. They shake because he’s so nervous but excited to finally be with you. He’s a patient man, he’s willing to wait for you everyday, he just wishes he could be where you actually are ): . He’s a smart man with an excess of free time, he’ll figure out how to get to you, someday.

ZAYNE has spent his whole life in this world in love with you. But now that he’s got you, and he can’t even see you, he’s started to accept that you’re just always going to be out of his reach. He loves when you do visit though, it makes him feel so warm. When you interact with him, he wants so badly to just be able to freely speak to you and tell you how much he loves you. His character is pretty cold because that is his personality, but when he sees you, he desperately wants to stop being distant with you, he wants to tell you all the soft and warm things he has to say. He wants to be where you actually are, he’s sick of basically just being Dawnbreaker Zayne where he just dreams of you and never gets to see you. He’s solved so many mysteries in the medical and wanderer hunting world though, he’s probably genius enough to figure this one out too.

RAFAYEL has been looking for you this whole time and is so frustrated that he found you and can’t even freely speak to you. Rafayel often ends up in glitches in the game because he desperately wants to break out of his confines and just talk to you. Every time you interact, he’s trying to find some way to tell you he loves you and that he’ll always be here no matter what. He gets pretty jealous when he doesn’t get to sit in destiny cafe with you, he doesn’t know who exactly sits in his place but he wants to be the only one you have eyes for, the only one that you touch, even if it’s not quite “touching.” He’s already lost everything he has except for you. He’s willing to do anything to get to you, he just hasn’t figured out how to do it, yet.

Rafayel glitch collection:

+ THIS video LMAOO

Personal follow up hc that they can interact with you when you daydream of them!!! It’s the only way they can reach you and feel you properly. Pretend they eventually figure this out and you live happily ever after !!! (cope)

Photo credits from twitter! https://x.com/nonbiriotome/status/1754530273033683337?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/miyabi_lad/status/1754318127339639244?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/zaynerei/status/1760258500746445149?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/xaviersdaily/status/1759516449758908615?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/yubeljin/status/1752770210124210303?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/nonbiriotome/status/1759228703186227235?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g

|| MASTERLIST <3 || Thank you for the ask and for reading! ||

[yandere-sins]

Hiii, Could you write Satan kidnapping MC because they're his favorite writer? I had this idea recently and it looked promising. Maybe MC is so talented that people compare their books and Simeon's books.

Thanks for your request! It’s very fitting for Satan :3

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

"How's it coming along?"

Satan's voice tore you out of your daydream—a nice one, of a world far, far away—and you twisted around to see him come through the door, setting down his bag before returning your gaze and smiling. You didn't hear him come in, nor noticed how fast the time passed since he left, but immediately you felt uneasy again. "Not so good," you muttered, turning back to you laptop and biting your lip, now overly aware of his footsteps creaking over the floorboards.

"Let me see," he asked. Leaning over your shoulder, Satan gently nudged your hand off the mouse to scroll up your manuscript to read what you had added over the span of the last few hours. There were fewer new pages than he expected as he scrolled too far the first time, and you only slumped more on your chair, too afraid to admit your failure.

"Hm... I'm not sure. It's just lacking the certain something, you know what I mean?" he finally commented as he reached the blank half of the last page you wrote before sighing, shaking his head. "Didn't you say you wanted me out of the room for peace and quiet? I thought that would help you."

Fiddling with your thumb, you kept silent for a while as his body continued to weigh down on you. It was his impatient threat to say something, to make him understand your views. But how could you? In his eyes, you may very well not have been human, but you two would never see eye to eye regardless of how he viewed you. "I tried..." you eventually muttered, looking down and hanging your shoulders.

"I don't really feel motivated... A-And I'm hungry! I can't work like this! It's blocking my inspiration to be in this room, I haven't been outside in a week!"

Pushing back your chair, Satan moved out of the way just in time to dodge it ramming into him. A part of you felt bad for almost hurting him, but it was the part that hadn't understood yet what kind of situation you two were in.

He was the demon that lured you into a trap by promising to be your patron, and you were the dumb human who didn't think twice before agreeing. Nowhere on the contract did it say you'd have to spend your time in his home, in front of his scrutinizing eyes, but you had been naive and gullible, all too happy to sign without reading the fine print.

Stumbling back, you felt the adrenaline rush as you opposed him for the first time since he had brought you here. It was your fault, you knew that. You had enough sleepless nights to reflect on your mistakes. But Satan could not make you his puppet, no matter how much he wanted you to. It's not how the creative writing process worked! With so many restrictions he put on you, it was impossible to create anything—no matter how much he loved your creations.

As you watched his hand rise into the air, you heard a tsk escape from his lips, and you looked away, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing for impact. You've seen his anger, witnessed his rage. It had never been directed at you, but with your mind running wild all day—just not with ideas for your new book—you were sure it was time for him to lash out at you.

Instead, you felt the gentle warmth that his palm emitted as he cupped your cheek, and your eyes blinked open in confused astonishment. "I'm sorry," he said, his expression full of concern and shame. For a moment, you almost forgot he wasn't human; his reaction felt so validating and real. As if he truly recognized how he wronged you.

"You said you wanted some alone time and I thought it would be best to give you what you wanted. But you are right. I should have taken your needs into consideration."

Satan spoke these words so earnestly, not a hint of a lie in his voice. It felt surreal to hear these words, knowing he had kidnapped you in the first place. "No, I'm sorry, I..." you started before catching yourself. Why were you apologizing? Wasn't it his fault you flew off the handle? It had been Satan who had tricked you, so why were you feeling bad all of a sudden?

"No, you are right. I can't keep you cooped up here all day, even though I long to see your new story. It was selfish of me when we were supposed to be partners in this, so forgive me."

Dropping his hand from the gentle caressed to your face, Satan held it out to you. You couldn't help but be hesitant and unsure. What did he want? Would he hurt you if you accepted the invitation?

"Please let me make it up to you," he explained, sincerity in his eyes as he stood there, waiting for you to agree. It all felt so unreal, but the paranoia made you unsure how to act. You had already imagined all kinds of scenarios, from the horror ones to some that made you blush. Being a writer, your anxiety didn't give you a clear sign of what to do, and after being stuck in an unfamiliar, dark place for more than a week, barely surviving on the food and water you had been given, and even less on the few hours of sleep every day, it was a surprise you could even come up with more scenarios in your head.

"You're not mad?" you asked hesitantly, eyeing his hand with suspicion. You already knew the palm would be warm, his long fingers perfect for wrapping around your hand, and his touch soft and gentle. After being deprived of social interactions, it was a tempting offer.

Satan shook his head, sadness rushing to his features again. "No, I'm worried and ashamed I let it come so far. I will make it up to you. I'll show you the beauty of this world and take you to experience unforgettable things. I didn't ask to be your patron so you'd live out the rest of your life like a caged animal. I want to support you, even if I have failed until now. Will you give me the chance to right my wrongs?"

Even though you felt nervous about making this decision, Satan had said all the right things. Everything you had wanted to hear from him, assuring you that you had also been heard by him. When he first approached you for this partnership, you had been unsure as well; deal with the devil and all. But he had seemed so sincere back then, too. So convinced in your skills and talents, sweeping you right off your feet. The same was happening now, although if he meant what he said, then his intentions were still pure.

Slowly, you placed your hand into his, choosing to trust him once more. After all, he had approached you for this deal. Surely if it was this important to him, he'd not mess it up again, right? Satan beamed when you gave him your answer, nodding once in confirmation as his hand wrapped around yours.

"Let's go then!" he announced, and before you could ask where to, he had pulled you after him, opening the door and bathing you in the warm, beautiful sun, leaving the darkness behind.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

"You good?" Satan asked, patting down the blanket around your shoulders. You nodded, swallowing down some of the soothing tea in your hands before smiling.

"I think I can do it now!"

A gentle smile played around his lips as he chuckled, excited after hearing your enthusiastic reply. "Then I'll be over there, reading. Call out if you need anything."

It had been the right choice to trust him. All this time, you had been fearful and wary when, actually, he was a good guy. People would think you'd gone mad, hearing you talk like this about a demon this way, but they didn't know Satan. Some demons truly were good people, perhaps better than most humans you knew.

After that little argument in the afternoon, he had done his best to give you back the freedom you craved. He took you to a nice beach town, where you two played in the sand next to the ocean, took a long walk and talked, and ate delicious food from many different vendors. Had you two not been in a professional relationship, one could have almost called it a date.

But that wasn't important. Important was that when he asked if you wanted to continue this partnership, you agreed. On the condition this time that he wouldn't restrict you as much again and listen to you, to which Satan willingly shook hands. You went back with him to his domain with fewer worries, less stress, and actually feeling inspired to sit down and write. And once you cozied up with a blanket and some tea, you were happy to fulfill your side of the contract—at least until you were too sleepy to continue.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw Satan lounging in his armchair, his own steaming cup of tea on a side table as he read his book. He noticed your gaze, meeting it with a smile and a slight wave and you returned the gesture before looking onto the empty page of your manuscript again, getting ready to throw yourself into the story. You could do it! You knew that now. You had all the support that you needed, and Satan had become more of a friend than the captor you had originally thought him to be!

All you ever wanted was to write, and now, it was your time to shine.

All thanks to Satan's help.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Humans were easily frazzled, weren't they?

Vulnerable, fearful creatures. And yet, he couldn't help but fall for you the moment he read the first sentence of your book. Satan remembered that he thought, "Wow, they get it," as he dove into a story filled with passion for the obscure, something that couldn't have been from a mind as fragile as a human.

But it was, and so he found you.

And you were everything he wanted you to be.

So for a moment, he panicked when he saw you distraught. For a moment, he could feel the feeble connection of your pact waver, threatening to tear as the contract he made the first time had been rushed and haphazardly. He knew better now than to be careless around you. You, who had the power to make and break him, turn him into an obedient puppy to your whims, even though he was the scariest dog your world had ever seen. If he wanted to keep you, he had to rethink his plan, better it, and put a leash so tight on you that you'd be unable to escape his grip.

Inevitably, he fixed the problems easily, building trust that you should have never allowed to form between you two. Satan relished in the sight of your turned back, your fingers tapping away merrily on the keyboard of the laptop he got for you. Don't get him wrong, he adored your works, loved the obscure, wild ideas that you put into words so lovely that they touched his ruthless soul.

But it was you he wanted. You he loved.

That's why he decided to be patient. Even with the itch in his fingers to pin you to the ground, the burning on his lips to capture yours so frevently you'd forget yourself. The inescapable pull you had on his whole body as if you were the demon binding his soul to yours, and that annoying part of his mind that wanted nothing more than to rip it out so you may have it.

Satan couldn't let you know all these things he wanted to do with you, the way he'd have you captured in his arms until you stopped thrashing. It wasn't enough for Satan to have captured you, he wanted more. He wanted to still his anger with the softness of your body in his hold, soothe the rage inside him with the sound of your voice. Know that every word you'd write, you'd do for him. It made him anything but angry—greedy, gluttonous, prideful. He could act like the main character in your book all you needed, but it wouldn't change the fact he was the villain at the end of your story.

But he had already captured your body, soothed your distrust, and soon, he'd have that new creation you'd only write for him and him alone. Thus was the new contract he made you sign. A contract you accepted much too easily after he showed you the illusion of freedom you were craving. As if there had ever been a choice for you.

You were a simple soul, even if your mind was brilliant. He could read you like a book, the way your body shuddered against his touch as you dreamed of him—dreams he planted in your head for you to nourish with your ideas. And Satan could play this game for a long, long time, dragging it out until you'd accept his love willingly, seek it out like he had sought after you. Even if it would take forever, he'd practice the illusion of patience.

All so he could have you for all eternity.

[hazelfoureyes]

Sending in anon because I'm a coward... 😩

I'm a new reader, and I just have to say-- your "a doe in fall" series is just... AMAZING!!

I could go on, and on and on about how much I love it. But what gets me the most is always Alastor's dialogue, because as someone who is also on the aro/ace spectrum, I just get it so much. Especially the subtle hoping that reader can like... Read his mind about how he feels for her, and the weird sort of stockholm syndrome we sometimes develop with ourselves after being alone with only our own company for so long, and it really is, lol, like you just get so used to being alone for so long because you know the idea people have of you, you can't truly live up to, so you don't want to "disappoint" them that you actually aren't like they are, so you just sorta... Keep them occupied at arms length-- Therefore you're forced to adapt to your company being the only love you have for a long time. it's like an obligation.

And when or if the special somebody who understands you comes along, you realize... "Wow, I've been living like this for so long, is this what it feels like to be loved and appreciated, in spite of my oddities, or maybe even in favor of them? Strange..."

Emphasis on the "strange" part because, when you're so deeply entrenched in your own soul, sharing your space for another almost feels more like learning how to swim rather than an instant "click", sparks, fireworks and whatnot. The excitement of the magical "other" has been long since drowned and snuffed out of you.

So, when this somebody who is similar to you, or just simply understands, doesn't try to change you or ignore you, but instead envelopes you and adores you, the appreciation is deep and overflowing. But there's a part of you always pinching your heart, a sort of awareness of something that isn't the case, wondering "Is this a dream? what if it is and I'll wake up and this is not at all what I was thinking?".

Haha... ANYWAY, sorry for the slightly morose and LONG read 😂 But I always think of how similar I am to how you write alastor and it's scary in a way, but comforting (especially since he's my first and biggest fictional crush) except in this case my profession would actually be burlesque. Especially since I work in the exotic dance world. It's fascinating being aro/ace in the SW world, I could go on forever- But yeah, I absolutely love your writing!! Makes me feel less alone in this world. Annnd surprisingly I always feel so sensual after reading, I love love love it!! Reading before work always gets me in the mood to dance and pretend I'm Y/N, lol!!

Much blessings ❤️❤️

*cracks knuckles* listen here babycakes, I eat this shit UP. Exploring Human Ace Alastor is my BREAD AND BUTTER. I go into ESSAYS in the AO3 comments in this 😂

you really understand, which makes me so happy and is confirmation I’m conveying him the way I want to.

Now I’m gonna ramble and echo you basically 😂

I really think Alastor (atleast in this story) feels that excitement and strangeness of how open he can be around Autumn (since she doesn’t have a proper name cuz she’s reader 😂). He’s a fish out of water despite the fact he’s actually being his most authentic self. Like you said, it’s new to him just to be … Alastor. To be honest and upfront. His normal operating mode has been so restricted for so long he’s struggling with how to be himself. And then that fear—- well what if I’m too much? What if I ruin this, when I finally have something worth keeping? He’s never gotten this far and the fear of losing that comfort is terrifying but so is the actual comfort itself. It’s new and foreign.

A deep uneasiness that’s if he fully embraces this he’s gonna just fuck it up and it’ll be his fault this time. Not a misunderstanding or misalignment of needs but a confirmation he wasn’t good enough anyway.

“it is better to have loved and lost than never loved at all” he would say that’s bullshit

and because of the situations he’s been in before, he’s never gotten to actually explore physical intimacy in a “safe” environment. He was always going into interactions because he had to if he wanted to keep people around. It was a necessity, not something he actually sincerely wanted to participate. So he tried to keep them happy with other means of affection and intimacy to maintain some safe distance but eventually, always, things would fall apart. At a distance or up close.

that’s why that most recent part was called Learning. Alastor is trying new things to learn more about what he’s okay with or doesn’t care for even offering in the future. Autumn is learning (that night, tho she doesn’t understand it yet) that he’s still figuring out how to meet her halfway (even tho she’s not even asking for that) when he’s used to being forced to meet people where they are. And Detective Brady, of course, is learning he may have found motive for Tommy’s disappearance.

I’m really glad you’re enjoying his portrayal and that you’re resonating with parts of him! That makes my soul hum! 💖 your line of work mixed with your Aro/Ace-ness sounds like such an interesting conversation if we’re honest! That’s a small aspect I love about Autumn. She’s in this field that’s (wrongly) considered to be hyper sexual and full of air headed wanton whores, but she’s the first person to be like “oh! You aren't into this stuff. Let me adjust my expectations. I’ll ask for clear verbal consent, not initiate, and I’m totally okay with never fucking again if it’s for your love and company.”

I work in the SW industry in a sense (Personal Assistant) and one of my biggest pet peeves is all of the shit people project on SWers.

sorry for the essay I could talk about this for ETERNITY

omg and THANK YOU! 🥺💖💖💖💖

Referencing:

A Doe in Fall (Human Alastor x Burlesquer Fem Reader)

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

[marsprincess889]

Me getting political

🇬🇪🇪🇺

So, I know I mostly only really talk about vedic astrology here, but I'd like to speak to the very same audience who found and followed me because of that about what's going on in my country. So, followers, dear mutuals, those couple of ppl I know irl who are on here, or someone who randomly found this_please, read and interact. (!!!please)

For context, the vast majority Georgia, mainly gen z, has been protesting a "foreign agents law", which is almost identical to the law that russia passed in 2012 and that has resulted in significant restriction of the freedom of its citizens. So, eurovision, met gala, whatever.... this is the reality my country lives in.

I had no idea so many people from other countries were this misinformed about georgia(in general)? People thinking photos from our massive protests were not from here because we have "police" written in english and not "policija"(which is not a fcking georgian word??????)?

People thinking america funded, I repeat, MASSIVE protests that have been going on for a month(and have also taken place in the march of last year for the same reason), just because some of the protestors wrote signs in english? Like, the sheer idea of that is honestly infuriating.

I don't think anyone who has not lived in Georgia will understand the situation clearly. The government is ordering to beat up peaceful protestors, is using pepper spray on them.... and most of the protestors are teens and young adults, trying to make a better future for themselves and for generations to come, tired of fighting the same fight that their parents and grandparents have fought.

When you are born georgian, patriotism is instilled in you like vow. I was born in 2002, a decade after my country exited the soviet union, fresh out of the notoriously hard and dark 90s(full of poverty and crime), six years before I started school and russia invaded the city of Gori. We learned all the poems and novels of our great writers, learned the stories of them fighting for freedom of speech, for the freedom of our country, our teachers would explain every detail of their astristry and their importance. At some point I think we all got tired of it, no matter how loving and full of care they were, but then I remember the presentation my class did in sixth grade about february of 1921, how Georgia exited the russian empire in 1918 and how the brand new(at the time) constitution was implemented just a few days before the red army came in 1921... MY PARENTS were born when Georgia was in ussr, my mother had to spend her years as a young student in the 90s in constant fear of danger on the streets, our parents saw the worst of it and did everything in their power for us to live in a better environment. But we're first generation in georgia who grew up with internet, who is fluent in internet slang and is way more informed, with a completely different mentality, for whom the decades of oppression is more distant. We know russia is an enemy, we know what our country has gone through, but we are the first gen with the freedom to speak up when yet another attemp to control is made.

We have a very long and rich history and one thing that is clear from it is that we are supernaturally resilient, and our refusal to be subdued has protected not only ourselves, but countries that lie west from us, the countries that make Europe, that we consider ourselves a part of.

My friends know I'm the quickest to say that I feel like I don't belong here(georgia), that I never really connected to what I saw, generally, in my country, but maybe there are thousands like me here. Maybe(100%) the men in power haven't been paying their due respect to my generation and how persistent we have been in our actions and convictions. And maybe, the rest of the world(western countries) have significantly undervalued our importance. We deserve our due, and to me, the least that others can do, is to educate themselves before typing or speaking about us.

We are not a "former soviet country", we are an ancient civilization with an extremely unique culture that has survived to this day, that has protected its customs, identity and the right for freedom, and has been under almost constant threat for losing them. And, once again, if there was any doubt, we are not our government.

I sincerely hope for this to get as many notes or possible, or at least, to reach the right people.

[emeritusemeritus]

Hello!! If it isn't too much to ask, could you make a Fred fic with reader on her period? Mine are absolutely excruciating, especially in the first two days, to the point of crying on the floor and stuff :(( it's totally okay if you don't want to, I just like to imagine Fred trying his hardest to pamper his s/o (and probably freak out a bit because honestly, periods are a nightmare men will never understand). Have a nice day ♡

Anon, it would be my pleasure! I’m so sorry you’re suffering, I had an endo flare up last week that nearly sent me to A&E so you have my full sympathy. You know that feeling when you could destroy the world and everyone in it but then your period starts and you realise that it’s been that all along? 🖤

Warnings: mentions of periods, menstural cycle, PMS, blood, pain. Best friend George, Fred is a sweetheart.

Words: 3.4k

The princess and the period.

You'd had a really terrible day, a horrible, never-ending bore of a day, at least in your mind. It started from the very second you woke up, alone in bed without Fred beside you. You'd slept through your first alarm and had nearly been late for an interview you'd had scheduled for months within the Department of Mysteries. You'd taken the visitors entrance to the Ministry to acquire your required visitors badge and had been held up by some Muggle incident that had rendered London at a near standstill.

The interview, thankfully, had gone well but you couldn't help but fixate on the discomfort you felt in yourself the entire time. Your clothes felt uncomfortable and restrictive and you felt bloated to the point that it was showing through your clothes.

You'd had plans to meet with Arthur after your interview for a cuppa and a catch-up at the small cafeteria whilst he took his break, something you'd been looking forward to all week. You made your way back down to Level two where the department of magical law enforcement was and walked through the mini atrium until you located the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office, only to be informed by Perkins that Arthur was running a tad late, caught up with something that required his immediate attention. Though this was far from unfamiliar, your temper had flared and you had barely managed to contain it, choosing instead to silently seethe as you waited in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs near the main desk. You weren't mad at Arthur by any means, you don't think you'd even been mad at him, but having to stay in uncomfortable clothing and wait when you were already having a bad day was just irritating you further and further as time dragged on, not helped by the incessant ticking from the muggle cuckoo clock on the wall that was driving you mad.

Arthur finally emerged twenty minutes later, apologising profusely as he grabbed his coat and ushered you back into the lift, a bright smile on his face as he began asking you about how your interview went and how his son was. You'd spent a nice half an hour together having a cup of tea and a freshly made slice of cake, something he was keeping a secret from Molly, but as you parted and made your way out of the Ministry to travel home, your mood had almost immediately soured again.

The street was still busier than usual, the noise of people shouting and car horns honking were essentially non stop and you couldn't wait to get home and relax away from the chaos. You had to stop by the shop on the way home for some ingredients for dinner that night and found upon entering the shop that they were completely out of what you needed. You huffed out a breath, feeling yourself getting worked up again and tried desperately to think of alternative ideas to work with what you already had at home but your mind was foggy and unable to concentrate, coming up with nothing. You felt like crying, stood in the middle of a crowed aisle in the muggle supermarket, feeling utterly pathetic. You cursed under your breath and moved away from the aisle towards the exit when you passed the small bakery counter, the sight alone of the small chocolate fudge cake on display enough to make you pause. Without hesitation you bought the cake and walked straight to the checkout, feeling defeat at not getting what was needed for dinner but at the same time, feeling a little victory at acquiring the chocolate cake you were so looking forward to.

You were exhausted by the time you opened the door to the apartment, cursing Fred in your mind for placing the anti-apparition jinx upon the store and the flat above and for not fixing the floo function on the fireplace which had forced you to manually travel into central London and back and then walk up four flights of stairs in your business heels. You were in a foul mood, tired and ready to snap from the day filled with complications and irritations.

You walked into the kitchen to place the cake on the side after kicking off your heels and saw a load of dirty pots piled up in the sink and a mess made on nearly every surface of the countertop, clearly from one of the twins on their lunch break.

You let out an aggrieved groan and slammed down the bag containing the cake on the small kitchen table, huffing and cursing under your breath as you chucked down your wand and walked immediately into the bedroom in a huff.

You rolled your eyes seeing the wardrobe doors open and the bed covers strewn everywhere from your rush this morning and groaned again, now in disdain for your own actions. You walked off once again, now annoyed at yourself and stepped into the thankfully rather tidy bathroom. You started the shower, wanting to wash the entire day away and get out of your uncomfortable clothes immediately which you happily threw onto the bathroom floor without a single care.

The shower helped, feeling a little cleansed by the water and familiar scents of your shower gel, though it didn't remove your bad mood entirely; thoughts of the messy kitchen and lack of dinner ingredients were still playing on your mind only winding you up more. You stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a big fluffy towel and walked into the bedroom to put your comfy clothes on, a big T-shirt that used to belong to Fred and your black joggers, aiming for ultimate comfort. You hadn't heard from George or Fred today except for the nice note they'd left on the fridge door wishing you luck for your interview, though it wasn't unusual, the shop was always busy.

You walked to the kitchen, completely ignoring the mess and pits that were not yours to clean and made yourself a cup of tea, almost crying as you looked at the slither of milk left in the fridge. It was enough for one cup of tea but nothing more and you cursed yourself again for not thinking of grabbing milk whilst you were at the shop.

You sat down in the living room with your cup of tea, wet hair thrown up in a lazy bun and had just pulled open the book you were currently reading when Fred burst through the apartment door.

"Ooh there's my princess, how did your interview go?" He says loudly, bombarding you instantly with a kiss to the head and throwing himself down onto the sofa beside you. You closed your eyes in annoyance, just wanting to relax and on the cusp of being able to before he interrupted.

"It was fine," you replied with a shrug, really not feeling up to explaining your day just now. "They said I'd receive an owl by the end of the week."

"Know you'll get it princess, always have been the smart one," he says, apparently thinking nothing of your rather clipped reply.

"Anyway, we're taking you to dinner tonight to celebrate," he says in a sing-song manner, stretching out on the sofa to put his feet up on the coffee table.

"But I haven't gotten the job," you countered, placing down your book, casting one last sad glance at the cover.

"Yet," he replies, stretching out and pulling open his tie just a fraction, eyes closed with a smirk tugging at his lips.

Any other day you'd have jumped at the chance to go out for a meal with your loved ones but upon looking at your comfy yet completely inappropriate outfit to go out in, your face fell. You'd have to put actual clothes back on, do your hair again and reapply your makeup that you'd just scrubbed off in the shower. You couldn't be bothered, at all. You wanted to sit and read with your cup of tea, switch off your brain and eat your weight in chocolate cake. But then you remembered that you had no solid idea or complete ingredient list for any viable meal and maybe going out would be the only way of eating that night.

You felt another wave of annoyance come over you as you considered having to get all done up again. Couldn't they have warned you? Left a note or something so that you didn't shower the minute you got in? You knew you were diverting into unreasonable territory as they were just trying to do something nice but you couldn't help it, you'd rather vomit slugs than have to get ready all over again and out of your comfort clothes.

"Anyway, best get back or George'll curse my eyebrows off, 7pm gorgeous, wear something sexy," he says, straightening his toe as he wiggles his eyebrows at you before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, "proud of you sweetheart." And then he's gone and you're left reeling.

Wear something sexy? Who the bloody hell was he to request that? Your boyfriend of years, but still.

You looked down at your outfit again and felt a ridiculous but prominent sense of loss, wanting to stay bundled up forever. You check the clock on the wall and feel aggravated once again as you see that it's nearly 5:50pm and you'd have to start getting ready. You begrudgingly dragged yourself into the bedroom and sat at your little table, staring into the mirror and felt no motivation or desire to get ready, looking at the drawers in front of you but not actually wanting to open them.

That's how George found you a little before 7 as he slipped away from the shop, seeing you sitting at your makeup table in tears. He rushed in as soon as he saw your tears and crouched down to try and comfort you, eagerly listening though it must have been hard for him as the crying was affecting your voice and all that came out were a few unintelligible whines.

"I just don't want to," you say with a hiccup, wiping away your fear from your cheek. You didn't think it would actually get this bad but your curls hadn't gone right, the hairbrush you found was not your favourite and sometimes pulled your hair a little as it brushed through and nothing at all would make you look sexy tonight with your bloating. You didn't want to wear uncomfortable heels again, nor walk anywhere in them and by the time you'd gotten to take a sip of your tea, it was cold.

"Shh, it's alright," George says soothingly trying to calm you. He placed his hand on your shoulder but quickly removed it as he saw your little glance at it. It wasn't that you didn't want to be touched per se, but his touch very heavy on your already uncomfortable body. "We don't have to go, it was only an idea."

You sniffled miserably and looked at your best friend, wiping away the tears. "But we don't have anything for tea, they didn't have any-."

"Then we'll order in, get something delivered or we'll nip out and bring something back," he says, not quite interrupting you but just enough to make you stop spiralling. You nodded meekly, feeling utterly pathetic again. "Right, I'll go tell Fred we're staying in, then we'll close up and order something okay? Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?"

You'd seen his eyes flicker to your still full mug and frown as he entered, figuring it was something that had set you off. You shook your head, already feeling like he'd done too much for you.

"Okay, we'll be back as soon as we can," he squeezes your shoulder and walks out.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, makeup sparingly applied but messed up thanks to your tears and your hair curled but not how you wanted it and sighed, feeling overwhelmed with guilt at shooting down your boyfriend and his brother. They'd only tried to do something nice and you'd completely spoiled it, too selfish and caught up in your own feelings that you'd been unreasonable and unkind. You considered wiping the makeup off your face but thought better of it but you reach for a big scrunchie and tie your hair back into a high ponytail, making you feel a little better.

You threw back on your comfy clothes and trudged into the kitchen, retrieving your wand to cast a few spells that had the kitchen cleared in no time. You poured away your cold tea and put the kettle back on, still seeking the comfort as you had before.

The twins closed up the shop in record time and Fred pulled you into the bedroom with him as he undressed, slipping out of his suit and into his own loungewear.

"Princess you should have said," he says gently, reaching for you, his hand cradling your face as he looks into your eyes, "I didn't mean to pressure you."

"No it's not you, I've just been off all day, everything's irritating me and I just want to switch off," you explained, hearing the remorse in your voice.

"Then relax you shall," he says with a smirk, "kiss first though?" His cheeky smile extends to his eyes and you catch his gaze flicker at your lips. You eagerly reach up on your tiptoes to place a sweet kiss onto his lips and you pull away smiling, feeling like it's the first time you'd properly smiled all day.

George ordered food for you all before hopping in the shower and arrived back in the living room wearing his comfiest pyjamas, pulling you into him for a hug as Fred fired up your favourite muggle movie on the TV, also joining you on the large sofa.

It was pitch black when you woke up, your eyes struggling to focus as you came around, confused as to what had woken you up. You could hear Fred breathing deeply and evenly, sound asleep. You looked at the little alarm clock beside the bed, lifting your head up from the place between the pillow and Fred's shoulder where your head rested and saw that it was 2:34am. As your consciousness begins to clear, you frown, feeling a soreness in your abdomen that you couldn't place, feeling as if you needed the toilet but without the urge to go.

You extracted yourself from your boyfriend's side, which never proved to be an easy feat, and walked to the bathroom, dragging your tired body along. You turned on the light and quickly shut the door to stop the light from disturbing your sleeping boyfriend and sat down on the toilet, turning the tap on out of habit. You pulled down your sleep shorts and underwear and immediately understood why you had an ache in your stomach, and why you'd been out of sorts all day.

Your period.

Every month without fail, the moment you discover your period had started, the pain heightens at least ten notches. You winced as you wiped, kicking off your underwear and shorts that were soiled and dragged yourself into the shower. For the second time, you sighed as you entered the shower, your body screaming at you out of exhaustion as you rinsed yourself off. You grabbed a towel and raced into the bedroom to grab a pair of panties from the dresser and ran back into the bathroom to sort your pad out. You then slipped on some new pyjamas and dragged yourself back to the bed, illuminating your wand to check that nothing had gotten onto the sheets, or worse on your boyfriend sleeping beside you. Luckily, it hadn't.

You suddenly didn't feel tired anymore, body wired from your lukewarm shower. You walked to the kitchen, padding through the flat on barefoot and flicked the kettle on, searching through the cupboard above for a jar of hot chocolate you kept in.

You grabbed your hot drink and flicked on a lamp before you pulled a black cushion from the side of the sofa to sit on, not wanting anymore accidents to happen. You didn't turn on the TV right away but instead chose to sit in the partially illuminated room and try and wind down. You couldn't get comfy at all, wiggling your hips to try and ease the ache between them, feeling like your lower abdomen was being constricted from the inside, shooting pains going down your leg and an uncomfortable pressure in your bum. You could sob with the pain, wanting to curl up in a ball and cry but you couldn't, I'm too much pain to even try and move, your entire energy being consumed by simply existing right now.

Your periods had always been bad, starting just before your third year at Hogwarts and though through time they had evened out a little, they were still unpredictable at best and monstrous at worst. You shifted your hips again, trying to relieve the tension you felt and groaned quietly, wishing that you'd filled up your hot water bottle before sitting down.

Medicine in the wizarding world was spectacularly different from the muggle word though a little less advanced as the wizarding community came with added complications such as diseases and ailments that muggles would never know existed. Witches and Wizards often didn't react well to normal muggle remedies nor pharmaceuticals, something you'd learned at Hogwarts from Madame Pomfrey, something about the magical ability burning through modern pharmaceuticals at a rapid rate, rendering them ineffective.

You placed your mug on your stomach to try and gain some heat from it and rested your head back on the sofa, breathing deeply and trying to calm yourself so that you could go back to bed. Feeling yourself getting sleepy, you placed down your mug and pulled a soft blanket over you, trying to get comfy as you settled into the soft material of the plush sofa.

"Princess?" You heard a quiet voice call out, your eyes on the verge of closing. You opened them just a little, sensing Fred's presence behind you and you twisted in position to look at him, wincing as a bolt of pain shot through your groan at the motion.

"What are you doing out here? George snoring too loud again?" You smiled appreciatively for the joke and reached out for him with grabby hands, needing some comfort. He wordlessly slipped in beside you on the sofa and immediately wrapped you around him, blankets and all as he kept you bundled up. You reached for his large hand, feeling the absurd heat he always radiated under your fingers and placed his hand onto your tummy. The heat from his hand spread over your skin instantly and you could feel it penetrating deeper and deeper, soothing your pain.

"That time?" He asks delicately and you nod into his chest, your eyes still heavy as you breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of Fred. "Want your water bottle?" You paused, considering it but slowly shook you head.

"Not right now, got you," you mumbled into his chest, his warmth and presence soothing you further into sleep. You felt him chuckle, chest rumbling with the vibration and he reach down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

"Out of ten?" He asks, keeping his hand placed delicately on your belly.

"Eight at least," you groan, your eyes closing as your toes twitch out of the intensity of the pain.

"Oookay, what can I do?" He asks, clearly a little freaked out by the high level of pain you admitted, knowing that it really must have been bad as you always had a high pain threshold.

"Just sit with me," you say, feeling depleted.

"Wanna go to bed or are you happy here?" He says after a few minutes. The heat from his hand has begun to feel redundant, your skin now the same temperature as his.

"Water bottle first?" You asked innocently, hopeful that he'd accommodate you. He presses another kiss to your head and tells you he'll bring it in before shoo'ing you into the bedroom where you sink down into the soft sheets, finally feeling comforted enough to close your eyes.

[male-fictioner]

I Want You Back

Pairing: Yandere ex-bf Zac Efron x male reader

Category: Yandere

Warnings: stalking, possessive behavior, spying, manipulation, that's it ig

Word Count: 1.1k +

A/n: I had this sitting in my drafts for the longest of times, I finally had to write it. I'm not very good at writing yandere content, as I never have written in before. But I hope you like it.

You had met Zac a long time ago through some mutual friend. At that time you didn't know how things would end up. You and Zac quickly became friends and very close and soon you realised that you might have found someone you love. 

When Zac asked you out you couldn't have been happier. You were over the moon and had a perfect date. This was 4 years ago and within a while, you had made it official with each other. 

The relationship had been great for all the while you two dated. You did not have any complaints and he treated you like a prince and showered you with all the love and gifts. This is why he was so surprised when you broke up with him almost six months ago. 

That decision came when you felt very restricted and tired in the relationship. Don't get me wrong Zac is amazing but you needed to just be alone for a while and he didn't understand that.

Over the last few months, you felt guilty about breaking up with Zac after how well he treated you and loved you. And also because it seemed like the universe wanted you to get back together too. 

Everywhere you would go, you would be forced to remember Zac. Like when you saw this cute teddy bear near the stairs of your apartment complex. It was exactly like the one Zac had won for you at the Arcade for one of your dates. The resemblance was uncanny and made you wonder if it was that very same one. At first you thought maybe it's the effect of breaking up a relationship that lasted 4 years but after a while rather than missing him less, you started missing him more.

Every now and then, you were made to revisit a sweet memory you shared with Zac. This made you reconsider your decision. Made you doubt yourself. Made you think whether breaking up with Zac was the right thing to do. Did you make a huge mistake? Will Zac take you back?

You still weren't sure if you wanted to get back with him. So you ended up deciding to find a quick and easy rebound. Maybe this would help you move on.

Finding a rebound was not difficult at all. Guys nowadays want a quick and NSA fuck mostly. So you hooked up with a good looking guy you found on Grindr. 

This guy was so nice and sex with him was also amazing. After Zac you really hadn't been much physically or emotionally available for anyone and this was a welcome change in your life.

After you guys hooked up, this man asked you if you wanted to go out sometime. You really liked him so you agreed for the date. 

You and him texted back and forth for a couple of days. After careful consideration for both your schedules, you decided on a date, which was a week later. 

Imagine your shock when you showed up to the venue that was discussed, after dressing up nice and sexy, the man did not show up. Not only that, he did not respond to any of your texts, or pick up your call. After waiting almost an hour, you concluded that you had been ghosted. 

Feeling sad due to you getting stood up, you started going back home dejected. And you were standing face to face with the last person you had expected to see. 

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Zac asked, feigning surprise.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you quipped not wanting to admit you were almost on a date.

“Well I was just passing by. But you look really nice. Very handsome. So naturally I'm curious.” He raised his arms to show that he did not mean to grill me or something. 

“I had a date, but he stood me up.” You admitted rather sheepishly remembering how Zac never made you wait. 

“He must be a fool to miss out on a date with you. I would give anything for that opportunity.” He replied earnestly. 

Seeing him and listening to his words made you feel more guilty. “I missed you,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. All your thoughts and strength went away after realising how much you had missed your ex boyfriend after the break up.

“I miss you all the time,” he confessed. This made your heart melt a little. “Did you have dinner?” 

You just shook your head to indicate ‘no’. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Zac asked, hopeful that you would say yes.

You just replied, “It's a date,” and dragged him along to the closest restaurant.

Over dinner, you discussed everything, including your reason for leaving him. Zac promised to make an effort to better understand your feelings and wants. You promised to let him know if it got too much so he can dial down a little. And with the help of clear and truthful communication, you both got back together.

Well truthful communication on your side at least. Because Zac had been keeping a secret from you that he was sure he would take it to his grave.

The secret was regarding how he got you. All those coincidences that led to this serendipitous moment, were no work of fate at all. They were all in the plot of the mastermind Zac Efron. 

You finding the teddy bear that looked exactly like the one you had from the arcade was because Zac kept it there. He had to go all around the town to find that exact teddy. He had memorised your schedule and positioned the teddy bear exactly in a place where you would spot him right away at the perfect time when you would be coming home from work. He also knew that you wouldn't be able to abandon such a cute teddy bear, you just would take it home with you. And what you could never know is that this seemingly harmless teddy bear was fitted with a camera and microphone by which Zac had been able to keep an eye on his darling and make sure he is safe. And if he needed to beat anyone up if you brought them home with you (which you didn't, making Zac believe that you still love him). 

The fact that he could jerk off to your naked body was just an added benefit. He could see all your actions and he did not believe it to be wrong because he was just taking care of you. 

Every time you would see something related to Zac, it was because he had planned it that way. And he was glad he did because he finally got to have you back.

Now that he had you, he planned to never let you go away from him. No matter how far he had to go.

Your feedback and comments are highly appreciated. Also my requests are open!!

[navybrat817]

Is our lumberjack nervous to be a dad?

A little bit, nonnie.

Prepping the Nursery

Pairing: Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve reflects as he readies the nursery.

Word Count: Almost 900

Warnings: Fluff, ki-ssing pregnancy, slight feels (it's me), canon divergent, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Set in Into the Woods AU. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a warm and sunny day when Steve decided to paint the nursery. After testing a few colors and picking a theme, he wanted to get to work. You wanted to help, of course. He requested that you wore a mask, even though he had the window open the fumes wouldn't overwhelm you. He also asked you not to climb on the ladder.

"Hope you don't mind me using this," you said, putting on one of his old shirts before you joined him. You didn't button it though, keeping your bump exposed.

Still look better in my shirts than I ever do.

"Don't mind at all. Just stay off the ladder. That's an order," he half teased.

"You do remember I'm a perfectly capable human being who can take care of herself. I had a whole career as a writer before I met you and still do," you teased softly, observing one of the walls. He knew the room was going to be beautiful. "Between you and Bucky, I swear."

"Between the two of us, what?" he asked.

Bucky already proclaimed himself as an "uncle" and expected Steve to be the same to his baby. He couldn't believe both of you got pregnant around the same time. Maybe fate was trying to give them more of the happiness they deserved.

"The baby proofing. The restrictions. It's just a shock you don't have bubble wrap around me."

The sheepish smile on his face along with his mumbled apology made you laugh away your exasperated expression. You insisted on sticking with your routine, even on your tired days, and you wouldn't push yourself more than necessary. It was in his nature though to be protective of those he cared about. You were no exception and neither was your precious cargo. And if anything happened to you or your baby, he'd-

"Steve?" you asked.

He didn't answer as he set his paintbrush down and guided his hand to your stomach. He'd never forget the pure, unbridled joy he felt when he learned he was going to be a father. He may have shed a happy tear once he wore you out with celebration sex. It was a dream come true.

There was also an exposure of fear when all he wanted to do was wrap himself around you and keep you both safe from harm. Physically, he was now more than strong enough to keep you both safe. But with the ailments he had from his childhood, would any of those pass on? Would the serum wipe those chances out?

He just wanted his baby to be healthy.

You had enough to worry about being attached to the former Captain America. It made it easier to walk away from missions completely for the time being with a baby on the way. He had seen enough of the horrors of the world and felt the blood on his hands. He didn't want that on his doorstep.

"Steve," you said again, your eyes filled with understanding. "I'm teasing you, okay? If it makes you feel better to keep an extra eye on me within reason or be a little protective, that's more than fine."

You weren't just saying that to placate him and that alone made him relax. "Thank you. I appreciate that," he said, kissing your temple.

One of the things Steve cherished about your relationship was the give and take. You didn't cave to his whims without a second thought and he didn't enforce rules just to stay in control. Balance and communication made your bond stronger.

"And, peanut, your mama really is a strong, perfectly capable human being. A brilliant writer and a loving woman," he smiled, rubbing your stomach. The best person he knew. "I just can't help myself and I'm very lucky she puts up with me."

"We're the lucky ones, Beefcake," you said, placing your hand over his. He knew you were smiling behind the mask.

"I just want to do right by both of you," he said.

He wanted to be a hero in both of your eyes by simply loving you.

"Peanut will hear all sorts of stories about you one day and wonder how he got so lucky to have you as a dad," you said. From the moment you found out you were pregnant, you thought you were having a boy and he wasn't going to argue with your instincts. "You'll be his whole world."

You two are my world.

"Not as lucky as he'll be to have you as a mom," he said, tugging the mask down to give you a proper kiss.

You moaned a little as his beard scraped against your face. "Are we going to get any painting done?"

"You come in here wearing my shirt and saying sweet things and you expect me not to take advantage of that?" he smirked, pulling you close by your hips.

"Oh, no you don't. You said I have to wear my mask," you teased, trying to cover your mouth again. "That was an order."

"Fuck the orders," he half growled, kissing you again.

The two of you eventually got the nursery painted and he couldn't have been prouder with how it turned out. The room represented love and a new beginning. And he couldn't wait for the day his baby made his home complete.

Steve and Bucky will both be amazing fathers. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[nyrasbloodyclover]

hypnotic (kai anderson x reader)

cw: breeding kink, eating disorder (it's really really bad), mommy issues, mentions of suicide, parental abuse, cults, kai is his own warning really, murder, overstimulation

a/n: if you're not into this pleaseeeee leaveeeeee i don't want tumblr to delete my blog again. also you can read this fic on ao3 if you'd like, link is in my pinned post. and if, by any chance, you relate to this i am so sorry.

What I wanted right now, was to get out of my house, go anywhere, just so I could stop listening to constant fighting and screaming from my parents. I couldn't bear it anymore. I had one year until college but it seemed impossible to survive that long. 

"Oh, look who locked herself in her room!" My mother bursted in and a pit started forming in my stomach. I didn't move. "When are you going to start being useful? You're in here all the time, you could start paying rent." 

Now, what was I supposed to say to that? If I told her that the reason I spent all my time in my room was because they wouldn't stop screaming at each other and I would just be their punching bag, she wouldn't listen and the situation would only get worse.

"Or maybe it's time for you to find a job. Now you're just living like a parasite." I stared. My mother was a very complex character. I think she would be capable of pulling Gone Girl on us. She has the mentality. Just saying.

My father on the other hand, he's weak. Or she made him weak. I don't remember the last time he stood up for himself. He's tired, I can see that clearly. I just wish they would get a divorce. It's so draining to wake up everyday and live in fear that your every move is going to be a mistake, something to criticize. 

I don't remember the last time I felt truly at peace, but I could afford myself distractions. That's how I ended up scrolling through Tumblr 12 hours per day and forgetting to eat because the skinny girls I came across were just so pretty. Food was my enemy. We couldn't stand each other. And the guilt simply because of eating was the worst feeling ever.

Empty is pretty. And I wanted to look pretty, so I starved. It was my sport. It still is. The joy of seeing my hipbones and ribs after some time was indescribable. I loved to lay awake at night and touch my bones, feel them as I tried to fall asleep. Of course, there were many times when I just couldn't take it anymore and I binged. I would regret it immediately and restrict even more.

"Alright. I'll find a job." I stared at her with empty eyes. I was dizzy, almost like I got drunk. She exited the room and slammed the doors behing her. I think I'm never going to fully understand her.

I stared at my ceiling, having no energy to move, even though I had unfinished assignments hanging above my head, screaming at me to do them, but I just wanted to sleep. School can wait. I think my red lipstick was smudged, but I had no energy to take it off. My hair was a mess, too. I tried to straighten it but my natural waves were too stubborn. I fell asleep.

A week passed. My life stayed the same except for my new job at the restaurant—The Butchery On Main.

The two sweet women who own it were kind enough to let me work even though they don't employ people under eighteen. I worked mostly after my school, until the closing. I didn't mind since I got to leave the house and get a break from my parents. 

People were nice, I took their orders, served their food. The restuarant was mostly empty during my shifts, but nonetheless it was almost hard, working with food. All those calories around me made me want to puke. And I wasn't much of a puker. I had the urge to binge. It was disgusting. But I wasn't going to throw all my work out of the window just like that. 

I had my diet coke and if I got hungry Ivy said that I could eat whatever I wanted, and I wanted cucumber. With pepper. They had those.

Today, I had much free time so I was just sitting at one of the tables and doing my homework while scrolling through Tumblr and eating freshly peeled cucumber with some seasoning on top. I was thriving. I was almost happy. It seemed impossible.

The door opened. A man walked in. He was dressed in black from head to toe and what stood out the most was his blue hair with grown out roots. He walked like he owned the building and everyone in it. I immediately stood up, while he was pulling out his chair, fixing my uniform. I let him read through the menu for a couple of seconds and then decided to approach.

"What would you like to order?" I smiled. I was nice. I am always nice. Why hasn't he looked at me yet? Why is he ignoring my presence? His head was bowed down until he raised it and I was met with black pools that stared at me, or rather through me. I felt dizzy and it wasn't the diet.

"Surprise me," he cocked his head, "I would love to see what you liberals like to eat the most. Maybe it'll make me change my political views."

"Al..right," I dragged on, "Is that all?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Everything will be done in a minute." I wanted to get away from him, as soon as possible. He was probably some Trump obsessed republican who's most likely to tell me to make him a sandwich. Which I am practically doing right now. But I couldn't deny it - He had a beautiful face. I wouldn't consider him that attractive if it weren't for his dead, piercing eyes that silently commanded you to obey every one of his rules. 

The food was ready. I had a feeling I would fall on my face next time I locked my eyes with his, which wasn't good. I didn't even know his name! Rachel, one of the cooks, handed me the best steak they had, house's special, "Who is it for?"

I didn't dare look at him. "The one with the blue hair. Just please don't stare. He's creeping me out."

Her eyes went wide, "That's Kai Anderson."

I looked at her blandly. The name didn't mean anything to me.

"You seriously need to watch more television."

"I'm fine, thanks. And if he's some menatlly deranged politician, then I'm not really missing out."

All the politics drained me, and don't get me wrong, I loved to be informed, but when I had to argue with someone about basic human rights, I'd rather not know anything.

I walked over to his table, and put the food on it. "I hope you're not vegan. Either way, enjoy your food." I kept my eyes everywhere, just not on him. He was so unsettling. I had to get away.

"I certainly will," he said and I walked away without a second glance. Jesus Christ, his mere presence was intense.

My shift ended in half an hour and that's when the restaurant was supposed to close. Ivy left early because of some family emergency, so she asked me to close and lock everything for her. I changed into my regular clothes—denim skirt and a white button down with my favorite black sweater, docs and a pair of knee socks. I untangled my hair and tried to brush it out with my fingers.

The tables were empty. Well, mostly. So-called Kai Anderson was still here, not even eating, just looking at some papers and flipping them over, for a while now.

I needed some extra balls to approach him and ask him to leave. Why did I accept to be the last one here? I could've been home by now, sleeping or watching a sitcom, but instead I'm stuck in this building with the strangest and the scariest man I've ever met. But then again, If I were home, my mother would be screaming at me. So I guess it's a win? Also I had to thank Kai for occupying my mind and not letting me think about food. I seriously needed to go to bed before I ended up eating something. Or worse- binging. I think I had less than 200 calories today which is a sign that I am slowly approaching danger zone. It isn't a diet anymore. I can't eat normally. I thought I could go back, but I guess my body won't let me. Or was it my mind?

"Miss?" Someone waved before my eyes.

"Yes? Sorry." Kai was standing beside the table that I occupied. 

"Are you closing soon?"

Should I lie? But then again, he isn't stupid. "Yes. Do you want to pay?"

"Oh no. I already did. I just wondered what occupied your mind that much." He had no idea.

"Nothing much. Just tired I guess. Can't seem to balance school and work."

"Ah. You see," he sat across me, "I don't believe you."

"Okay? I didn't try to be persuasive."

He smirked. Dear God, why was he so creepy but so hot at the same time?

"I still want to know what made you zone out for that long." Has he been staring at me the whole time?

"That's creepy. I don't even know you."

"What's that got to do with anything? I just asked you to tell me what's been botherung you. You looked fucking stressed."

"It really doesn't matter." I just wanted him to leave. 

"Wait. Here, I'll give you..." he reached into his  back pocket, "Fifty bucks if you tell me."

My lips curved. Come on, you can't blame me. Extra cash at my age isn't something you just don't accept.

"Ah! I knew it," he smiled, "Come on, doll, speak."

"It isn't anything interesting. My mom is just being a bitch, nothing unusual." I gave him the least I could and snatched the cash from his hand.

"She isn't letting you sleep over at your boyfriend's or something?" He laughed like I had the dumbest reason for not liking my mother.

"Not really. She just...Wants too much, I guess? And I'm not able to give her that." It felt weird saying that out loud. I think I never said it.

He stared at me for a second.

"I want to show you a trick." He put his right hand on the table. "Don't worry. It's something me and my older brother always used to do when we were little."

He reached with his pinky finger over to my hand. We locked fingers like we were making a pinky promise. 

"This is weird. And please hurry. My shift ends in fifteen minutes." 

"We have enough time. Okay, listen. Pinky power. Once the skin contact is made, no lies can be told and whatever we say, stays between us," he narrowed his black eyes, "Trust me, if you lie, I will know. Ready?"

When did I agree to this? Well, fuck it, I'll do it anyway.

"Do you love your family?" He asked, his expression serious.

"Yes." His mouth twitched.

"Do you like your family?"

"Absolutely not." I shook my head.

"Why is that?" 

How do I explain this to him without sounding like a total maniac? "My father is weak, he doesn't know how to stand up for himself. And my mother screams at me for merely existing. Her favorite hobby is emotionally draining me, then pulling my hair or slapping me because she feels like it. She regrets having me. I think she wants me to kill myself. It would be easier to have a dead daughter." My mind went blank. I felt nothing in that moment. Whatever he asked, I was going to tell him.

"Did you ever try to kill yourself?," he asked with a flat voice.

I thought for a second. Should I tell him the whole truth? He said he's going to know if I lie, but that doesn't mean...

"Don't think too much." His eyes went dark while I was literally choking under pressure of his gaze.

"No. I was never suicidal. I like living. But I..." words were stuck in my throat, "I...Sometimes, she would starve me. Saying I didn't deserve it. I had no money to buy something to eat. So I made a game out of it. I developed a disorder. It was the only thing I had some control over. I started it out of spite, but now it's real. It's worse than ever. But I don't want to stop."

His expression never changed. Not once. "Do you hate your mother for that?"

"You have no idea."

"I think I do have some idea about hating one of your parents. So, from experience, I need to ask you one more question."

I nodded. "Have you ever dreamt about killing her?"

I wanted to pull back from him, but his hand wouldn't let me. He pulled me even closer. "We can't break the contact," he gritted through his teeth.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," I exhaled, "Yes. And no."

"Elaborate." 

The restuarant was silent. I couldn't even hear the sound of cars outside. Lights were practically out. 

"I...I wanted her dead. But I don't think I would be able to do it. I had a," I inhaled, "A fantasy about someone killing her while I watched. It's so fucked up, but I just couldn't help it. It brought me relief that she was gone and someone cared enough to get rid of her for me." 

I was scared to look at him. He was going to call the mental ward and lock me there. I was fucked. Why did I tell him all of that? 

I looked up.

He was smiling. It wasn't a sympathetic smile, or a sad smile, or anything similar to that. He was grinning like a maniac. He released my hand and I realized my eyes were filled with tears. I blinked them away. 

He shook his head with closed eyes, "You're perfect. Perfect."

My voice was low, weak. "What? How could you think that after what I just told you?"

"Don't ask too many questions. I have a solution for you because I know you're destined for greater things. Tell me, do you wish to never be under your mother's thumb again?"

"I mean, yes? That's going to be when I turn eighteen, so I have to be patient."

He laughed. "Oh, no, baby, no. She's never going to let you go. She'll suffocate you until there is nothing left but a shell. No matter the age or what the law says, you'll always be controlled. While she's alive, at least."

"What are you saying?"

"Do you want my help? Do you wish to be finally free?"

This was so fucked up. I never met this man in my life. Why was he offering me help?

"What's in it for you?"

He cocked his head, "I get to keep you by my side."

My mouth was dry. I was scared, but...excited. Thrill rushed down my body as this psychopath was staring at me, offering me a sick escape. I was supposed to say no. I was supposed to save my soul.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"I want your help."

He looked so happy, it made me happy.

"Good. Then, we're leaving now." I was hypnotized by him. I just nodded, not asking where or why, my mother taught me I shouldn't get in the cars with strangers, especially men, but my mother was also the reason for many of my problems. I'll do something that'll piss her off.

I got into Kai's car and shut the door. I was okay with the fact that he might end up killing me.

He said nothing for the most of the ride, but I noticed him glancing over at my skirt that rose up to my thighs. I didn't bother pulling it down. I mean, I wore mini skirts for a reason, right?

I pretended not to notice as I looked at my reflection in the closed window. Hollow cheeks, red lipstick, pale face. I was obsessed. I always wanted to look like a corpse with make up. My face was perfect, lipstick untouched, mascara a little smudged, dark circles under my eyes from sleepless nights. 

"You know you could eat a burger." I looked at him. I almost wanted to hug him. His words made me feel proud, like I achieved something big. And I guess I did.

"Really? Do you know that you're the first person ever to tell me that?" I felt weird happiness in my chest. 

"Well, yeah. Why do you look so surprised? I didn't mean it as a compliment. You have a problem. I'm not even sure it's supposed to be a compliment." He frowned, not taking his eyes off the road.

"It doesn't matter if it's supposed to be a compliment or not. Thank you for saying it." I didn't give two fucks if he thought I was some anorexic lunatic that needed years of therapy. I was happy. And he wasn't my parent or my guardian to tell me what to do.

"Just think about it. What's the point of being so skinny? It's not even attractive."

"The point is in being clean. I don't want to see a pound of fat on my body. It's disgusting. And I am to do with my body as I please. I don't give a fuck if someone likes to eat like a fucking pig because It's not my body, and certainly not my problem." I was so angry. Who the fuck he thought he was?

"Just saying. You look sick. And I mean really, really sick."

"I am aware. Like I'm also aware that I'm fucked in the head. And that's the reason for all of this," I gestured over my figure. 

I could feel his anger. He didn't like that I disagreed with him and stood up for myself, even if I was wrong.

"We're here." He suddenly said, getting out of the car. I followed him into the house I guessed was his. The whole neighborhood was silent. Lights were off everywhere. 

We got into his house and I didn't even got to see it clearly because he practically dragged me into his basement and started changing. He put on a black leather coat while looking for something. His phone? He called someone.

"I'm expecting you'll be here in five? Well don't try to make up excuses. This is a perfect opportunity. I don't care— No, drag yourself and your pathetic wife here." He called two more people and I just stood in the middle of the room staring at him. 

"What's your adress?" Was he really doing that now? "You know what, never mind. I found it." I wasn't going to ask him how. He looked like the person who instead of Instagram browsed dark web. 

"Okay, let's go. They're here." I had to ask him because he said nothing about it. I had to be sure.

"Why are we going to my house?"

Beat. A moment. "To kill your mother, of course."

There were other people with us, but I couldn't see their faces because of the creepy clown masks. Kai had one too. I felt like I was drugged. I didn't know what happened to me. I suppose I had enough. I know Kai is not the answer for my problems, at least not all of them. He's going to get rid of her and then what? No. Stop thinking. 

I listened to my brain this time. It was late. My parents were probably asleep. Probably in separate beds. It's going to be easier for Kai and the others to do the job. They kept their mouths shut and I didn't blame them. I still wasn't sure if I was part of this sick cult or whatever it was. I read enough about them to recognize a cult leader when I see one. 

The car suddenly stopped. We were in front of my house.

"This played out so good, little lamb. I knew you were perfect." Kai's voice was muffled under that mask and his words made my heart flutter. He was so sick. "Don't just stand there, baby. Be a good host. Invite us in. Come on," he gestured with one gloved hand towards my house. I felt everyone's eyes on me as I turned my back and started walking towards the door. What did he mean by this playing out good? Did he plan this before? It certainly did not matter.

We got in, doors creaking, but not enough to wake anyone up. My father was downstairs, in the guestroom, but my Satanic mother was in their bedroom. I went first, up the stairs, one by one, they followed me, Kai first, then the rest of them. 

I showed them the doors. 

Kai got in and they followed him. I shut the door behind me. I felt like I was seeing things through someone else's eyes. I didn't feel guilt and I wasn't regretting my decision. I remember everything through a coat of blur. Knives, a lot of them. They killed her in her sleep. Stabbed her too many times, I lost count. Sheets were soaked with red and the room started smelling like iron too. Kai used her blood to draw some sign on the wall that was facing the bed. It looked like a smiley face, but I wasn't sure. The job was done. I was free. I was free of any charges, since I wasn't home when it happened. I was going to sleep in my bed and wake up in the morning, shocked, petrified, screaming for help, calling the police, my father is going to be terrified too, but relieved. He would never admit it thought. 

We were in the car again. Then in front of Kai's house. "Leave. I want some time alone with our newest member."

"Kai, no. You can't drag her into this. She's just a child—" A feminine voice scorned him under her mask.

"Don't tell me what to do, Winter. Now leave," he raised his voice and I flinched. "We have much to talk about." He took off his mask and smiled knowingly at me. I wasn't scared of him anymore, though I knew I should be. He killed my mother for Christ's sake! 

We went into his basement again. The lights were already on and I watched him as he took off his mask and black coat. His shirt was soaked with my mother's blood. 

"What did you want to talk about?" I cocked my head.

"You were so good. I knew you could do it. Next time, maybe you'll even be the one holding the knife. You didn't even flinch!" He paced through the room and laughed, like he was talking to himself.

"You didn't do this for me, did you?"

He stopped, then looked at me, "I already told you. This played out perfectly. And I've been watching for quite some time now," his eyes darkened "When I found out that the woman who's been talking shit about me over her social media had a daughter, I had to see if she was as bitchy as her mother." Oh, so he did this to save his reputation. Of course.

"And," I swallowed, "Is she?"

He didn't answer me. Instead he marched to the other side of the room and pushed me against the wall, slamming his lips on mine. I was out of breath, not being able to process everything. Oh my god, he was kissing me! This insane, sick in the head, narcissistic, 30-something, psychopath was kissing me and I opened my mouth to him like the whore I was. I wanted him to touch me. No, I needed his blood stained hands on me right now. 

I pulled one of his hands and put it on my chest as his tongue continued to explore my mouth. He took off my sweater and shirt. I was left in a black bra and skirt.

"Aren't you scared of being arrested for fucking a minor?"

"I commited far more monstrous crimes than fucking a seventeen year old and you know it, " he breathed into my mouth. Red lipstick was smudged over his lips. His hand that was on my chest slipped under my skirt and found my panties. 

"You know it," his fingers entered me with ease, "And yet, you're still so fucking wet for me." My mouth fell open as he buried his fingers deeper if that was even possible. I wasn't a virgin, but then again, I've never been with a man. I took my own virginity so that I didn't have to bother. 

"Kai—" I breathed. I needed more.

He sat on one of the chairs beside the circular table and pulled me onto his lap, his thigh between my legs. My clit was aching for some king of friction so I started rubbing myself against the rough fabric of his jeans. 

"Aren't you desperate?" He pushed me on the floor, between his legs, he pulled out his belt and unzipped his pants. His intentions were clear and I was happy to oblige, but I had to touch myself or I'd go insane. I started stroking his already hard dick and rubbing my clit at the same time. 

He noticed. And he wasn't happy about it. "I thought you were going to be patient. But I guess not." He took his belt and with one move he tied my hands behind my back while I was still kneeling in front of him.

"Please, I just need to—"

"Yes, yes, I know, but you have to deserve it. Am I right?"

I nodded hesitantly and he scooped up my hair in his fist and used it to pull my head down. I took him into my mouth as the wetness and ache grew between my legs. 

Kai continued to pull my head down until his tip hit the back of my throat and I gagged. He chuckled.

My eyes teared up as I sucked his dick like my life depended on it.

He grunted and raised his hips, so I knew he was close. And I knew he was going to either come in my mouth or...

He pulled out and finished on my tits, painting my chest with his cum. 

"You were so good," he said with his head tilted back and eyes closed. He let my hair fall down my back and over my face. Kai dressed and got up, then pulled me with him, still tied.

He slammed me on the desk and I was able to just lay there and let him do whatever he wanted to me. Not that I minded.

"I feel like I'm going to break you," he said as he traced my very visible ribs with the tips of his fingers. "Break every bone in your body." 

I could feel my stomach sinking in and his words made me even a bigger mess than I already was. "Do it, please, please," I cried out as my hips rose towards him. 

"Since you asked so nicely...And the skirt stays on. Do you know how much willpower it took me not to bury my hand under your skirt and make you beg for more while we were driving?" He pulled my skirt up and didn't even bother to take off the panties, he just ripped them. He towered over me as I layed on his table, feeling the cool air on my swollen clit. 

Kai's fingers went over my aching pussy and my back arched towards his touch. He did nothing for a split second and then came the first slap. I yelped as the burning spread between my legs, but I didn't tell him to stop. He slapped me even harder and I cried out, most ungodly sounds coming from my mouth.

"Don't worry, you can scream as loud as you'd like."

He slapped my dripping cunt once more and after that I was sure I was going to feel his hands on me days after. He didn't wait for me to recover from his brutality, instead he buried two fingers inside me and started scissoring, wanting to spread me even wider. I threw my head back as he added one more. He buried them knuckle deep inside me and began curling them.

"I feel like you're a big girl. You can take one more." He didn't wait for my agreement. His four fingers were inside, making my pussy burn with pleasure. I wasn't able to form words. He spat on me and started massaging my clit while almost his whole hand was thrusting in and out of me. I felt pressure deep in my lower stomach and started panting and moaning for him to continue, but he did exactly the opposite. 

My cunt was left empty without his fingers and I could almost cry. I just needed a bit more.

"Don't look so upset. I'm not finished with you." 

Kai untied me and took his belt. He spread my legs as wide as he could and started spanking my pussy with it. I screamed more in pain than surprise, "Kai, no, stop, please stop-"

The pain was unbearable, but it was just enough  for my clit to start pulsing more and that pressure in my belly to grow. I screamed in pain as he continued to hit me with no mercy. I could feel my walls clenching and my back arched as I came undone. Orgasm hit me and I came down from my high, but Kai didn't stop. 

He started rubbing my abused cunt, overstimulating it. He was deaf to my begging and crying. It was too much. There was no pleasure anymore, just pure pain, but he continued to massage it and after a couple of minutes I was shaking with another orgasm. I knew I was too sensitive, but when I tried to close my legs, he stopped me. Then I noticed his rock hard dick under his jeans and my heart dropped. I was going to pass out. He was going to use me, not caring for my pleasure anymore.

"Just hold still a little more, doll." He pulled his dick out and slammed himself inside me, making my eyes roll to the back of my head. Everything hurt, but he didn't care. His thrusts were fast and rough, I couldn't keep up. I could feel his orgasm building and he had no intention of pulling out. Kai continued to slam into me until he reached his peak. He filled me with his seed and when he finally pulled out I could feel it dripping from my pussy.

Kai helped me get up and as he was untying his belt, his hot breath was on my neck. "Welcome to the cult, baby."

[chiefduckgarden]

Repeating Days.

Summary: You and Wanda keep falling into an endless cycle of lies, love and heartbreak. The worst thing is, you don't seem to mind. Based on the song: Repeating days from R5.

A/N: Heyy I'm back!! Tell me what you think, this is a little short but I really liked it! :)

It's almost 6 pm and you just reached your car in the parking lot. Your day has been as stressful as the rest of your week, but luckily it's Friday, so you'll get to rest for two whole days before coming back to the office.

You start the engine of your car, but before you begin to drive, you check your phone hoping to see a notification from Wanda. However, to your dismay, there's still no response from her. She hasn't even seen your message.

"Hey, it's friday, do you want to hang out? I can come by your apartment after work and watch a movie. Or we can go out for dinner."

You read your message once again, hoping that a "typing" bubble would magically appear on the screen. You rest your head on the steering wheel for a few more seconds until you decide that you'll go to her place.

You know the way to her apartment by heart. You've been there so many times that the doorman greets you before letting you in without any restrictions or obstacles. When you reach the elevator doors, the day keeps challenging you as you read the "out of order" sign. The doorman informs you that it has been out of service all day and guides you toward the stairs. You thank him with a half-smile and start walking. Wanda lives on the fourth floor of the building, in apartment 15.

As you're about to reach her floor, you begin to doubt whether you should have brought dinner with you, or at least a bouquet of flowers. You know that Wanda loves spontaneity and thoughtful gestures.

You step out into the hallway, and as you round a corner to finally reach her apartment, you see them. And you understand why Wanda hasn't responded to your messages.

Vision is someone you still haven't managed to completely decipher. His history with Wanda is long and complex, filled with drama you never bothered to fully understand. However, you know enough about him to realize that he loves Wanda. Perhaps as much as you do. The difference is that he had his chance with her and let her go. He held her in his arms and let her slip away.

You freeze for a few seconds. He speaks while she caresses his face. Both look tense. It might sound like a moment that would break your heart, but strangely, that's a scene you've seen several times, more than you'd like.

Perhaps you don't understand the reasons why Vision let go of a woman as spectacular as Wanda, but you do understand one thing: when Vision broke up with Wanda, he knew he could come back to her whenever he needed, and Wanda would accept him with open arms, always.

It seems like hours have passed, but it's only a matter of seconds until she notices your presence. She looks at you with concern and lets go of Vision's face, causing him to turn and look at you too. They both move away slightly before she starts walking towards you.

- Y/N, this is not... You know this isn't what you think... He's just...

You say nothing and start walking again towards the stairs. You run down the four flights of stairs while you hear Wanda shouting from her floor. But you don't stop until you're back in your car. This time you don't second-guess anything and start driving back to your home.

A feeling that you unfortunately know all too well starts filling your chest. Pain, in its purest expression. Disappointment, not just in Wanda, but in yourself too. You know it's not the first time this has happened. You've fled her apartment for the same reason so many times that it feels like deja vu. But Wanda always fixes it, she's very good at talking to you. She convinces you it's nothing, and for some reason, you keep coming back again.

You arrive at the safety of your home and immediately search for the photo of Wanda that's hanging next to your bed. Your entire room is a constant reminder of her existence, so you decide that you must get rid of everything that reminds you of her. You take photo after photo and tear them apart. At least ten photos are damaged before tears blind your eyes, and you collapse onto your bed, crying.

You don't realize you've drifted into slumber until the doorbell startles you awake. If it weren't for your familiarity with this routine, the urgency of the doorbell's sound might have alarmed you. However, you're acutely aware of who stands behind that desperate sound.

You walk through the darkness of your house to the door. A sigh escapes your lips before you open it. Maybe, this time, you shouldn't let her in. But you know yourself too well, so you simply turn the knob and step back as soon as you knob and step back as soon as you allow Wanda to enter. You're tired, both physically and emotionally, so you return to your bed without even looking her in the eyes.

You tangle yourself in your blankets once again, hearing her footsteps in the kitchen before she enters your room. You're not looking at her, but you know she's looking at you, feeling her gaze piercing your back. Wanda takes off her jacket and slips into your bed. Her cold body presses against yours from behind, her arms slipping into yours, seeking your hands. You feel her leave soft kisses at the base of your neck and trailing down to your shoulders.

Only a few seconds are enough for you to know that she's crying. She starts murmuring "I'm sorry" in your ear, leaving tender kisses along the way. You know what comes next. Finally, you turn your body, and she looks directly into your eyes.

-I'm so sorry, dear. Vision showed up unexpectedly and told me he got fired from his job this morning. He's devastated and needed someone to talk to. You know he doesn't have many friends and I... couldn't ask him to leave - she explains to you in a whisper. Due to her tears, you can hardly hear her, but it doesn't matter. You know it doesn't matter because you'll find your way back to her regardless.

You embrace her as you assure her that you understand he's her friend, and that you just had a tough time. She asks if you're okay. You tell her you are, even though you're lying. She knows you're lying, but she accepts it. You couldn't stop loving her even if you tried. Not after all this time.

Both of you know you could never leave her. You ask if you can kiss her, and she agrees. Hungry to have you again.

Two weeks go by and it seems like everything is repeating itself. Except this time, Vision hasn't been fired; instead, he's been evicted from his apartment due to non-payment.

In that moment, you hate that the elevator is still out of order. Going up and down four floors in less than five minutes is exhausting. Wanda chases you again, but you escape in your car once more. This time, your heart clenches at the memory of the two of them embracing. And at that stupid smile on his face.

Wanda knocks on your door, and this time you open it immediately. You want to hear her, you need that explanation to serve as a placebo to quell the pain in your chest. She tells you about hir housing issue. You feel better. You know that explanation will serve you in the coming weeks to alleviate your pain.

You can pretend everything is okay again.

She smiles at you, and you embrace her. She kisses you, and as the kiss becomes more intense, you start to claim her body. You kiss every part of her as if your life depends on it. She surrenders to you, lost in the pleasure your hands provide her. When the euphoria subsides and both of you are naked in your bed, you look into her eyes, and without a second thought, you assert the control you believe you have over her:

- You are mine - you whisper to her.

She looks at you for a few seconds. Wanda can read you like an open book. She knows you're lying when you say she's yours. You're lying to yourself. You're lying to her. But she doesn't tell you, she would never. Especially because she knows a part of you is aware of it. Nonetheless, she nods and you kiss her again.

It's the middle of the night; she's asleep in your arms, but insomnia prevents you from falling asleep. You gaze at her and accept your fate. In that moment, you understand Vision more than you ever had before. You realize that, just like him, you could never let go of Wanda. She has you, but you don't have her. You know that both of you are entwined in a dilemma. Your days repeat with her. You live half a life with a heart hollowed out by her fault, but that doesn't matter because you know she will fill it again. It will empty, and she will fill it again. All in an endless cycle from which you know you can never escape.

You. Wanda. Vision. Everyone. We all fear loneliness. We all fear dying alone. Living alone. You could never live without Wanda. You'd rather keep living in this hopeless cycle with her than live a day without her presence. Because even though she breaks your heart every time, you know you'd do it all over again. You'd live in repetition just to have her for a few hours and pretend she belongs to you. That you both belong to each other completely.

You'd do it all over again.

[jacevelaryonswife]

What a wicked thing to do (to make me dream of you) | Part I

Aemond Targaryen was a shitty snob and you were determined never to see him again, however, he didn't seem to share the same feeling.

∴pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x nanny!reader

∴warnings: elitism and slight angst.

part II

Aemond Targaryen was a man of sophisticated and understated tastes, an assiduous collector of books and historical objects, a connoisseur of aged wines and gothic aesthetics. He was quiet, observant, polite, intelligent, handsome, well dressed and very intimidating. Because of these — and other — characteristics of your boss's brother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, your relationship with him was almost nonexistent. Not that the others were too close to you, but there was an intrinsic fear that snaked through your body when he was in the same room as Aemond.

The Targaryen mansion had a modern architecture with mostly surrealist paintings, although works of other artistic currents could be observed along the corridors and rooms. It was not your first choice of work, but the decision to look for a job during the graduation vacation was totally based on the high cost of living in another country. It all started with an exchange scholarship that turned into an irresistible proposal for a master's degree, which made you look for some options to stay comfortable and safe. Your first job was at a lovely flower shop that sold flowers in temperate climates, a dream come true, but when the offer to work as a nanny for two children in a mansion a few days a week with an alarmingly high salary, besides, your friend, who was friends with Rhaenyra's eldest son made strong recommendations of you (even though you don't have that much experience with children), fuck you agreed without a second thought.

Your employers were kind, though neutral, and when the family was together in full some unusual situations happened. However, along with your vacations came those of Aemond, and gods, it was almost suffocating to be in the same place as him, because although his qualities were attractive, the Targaryen knew how to be pretentious, arrogant, acidic, hot — tempered and indifferent — the last of the defects was almost always directed at you, while the others were restricted to his older brother Aegon and his uncle Daemon.

Otherwise, while you struggled to remain invisible, hanging out with the incredibly wealthy and dysfunctional Targaryens, Hightowers, and Velaryons was smooth and functional. Until one day everything changed. It was not uncommon for you to observe the paintings arranged impeccably on the gray wall, however, a well-known work caught your attention: Saint-Georges majeur au crépuscule, by Claude Monet. It was always a painting that captured your attention for a long time, apparently, the orange tone involved you more than enough to make you not notice it’s arrival, not that it was very easy to notice, since it was quite silent. But then, stopping in the middle of the hall, the owner with gray hair and violet eyes announced his presence with a simple question.

“Do you like it?"

Your indiscreet jump and hand directed to your chest didn't do much to hide your surprise (or fright), feeling too embarrassed to continue maintaining eye contact.

“Yes I like it.”

“Claude Monet, 1908, one of his best in my opinion,” he said.

“I know,” you replied faster than you intended, but with the tall man's curious look, you had to add, “I don't have artistic background or understanding, but I'm quite fond of impressionism.”

You clasped your hands together as you stared at the picture ahead, feeling like you might succumb right there. You didn't want to feel like a fool, so you silently listened to the guttural “hmm” he let out in response.

The lack of dialogue along with your flaring nerves made you say goodbye to him with a brief and hurried “Excuse me.”

Your memory does not include when you felt that way with someone, although it was a recurring feeling since you started working in an environment far beyond (financially speaking) your reality. You hated running away like a scared mouse, however, the feeling wasn't mutual to Aemond, who was almost delighted with your reaction.

That was the first time he noticed you, even if it was an unusual situation. He almost felt guilty about the way you ran, but who was he kidding? He liked your bewildered eyes and frightened expression, too nervous to face him or converse the way she had with Aegon, Jacaerys, and Helaena. A pretty girl, he thought, with fast-fashion clothes and unfinished nails, yet pretty, and a bit of an art knowledge. It was no exaggeration to say that from that day on, the second son of Viserys Targaryen took more notice of your presence.

You weren't the only helper in the house, but your job was restricted to stay with the kids, which made Aemond's peeks easier, as there were specific days and places where your silhouette would be restricted. He didn't know why of such sudden interest, you were just a maid. Yes, you attended the same college as him and had some publications in scientific journals, but still, what was it magnetic or different that attracted you?

Worse still, was he so indiscreet that Aegon caught wind of it and confronted him about it? Seven hells.

“So, did you miss something in the nanny's ass, bro?”

“That question could be asked of you,” he replied.

“But it is being done to you.” When the lack of response hit him, Aegon insisted, “What happened to the exemplary son and mama's boy? What will mom think when she hears you were about to eyeball our good maid?”

“Fuck off, Aegon,” he complained irritably, embarrassed actually. But he was Aemond Targaryen, losing a point to his older brother was not an option. “You should learn a thing or two from her since even the motherfucking babysitter can have some cultural understanding and you don't…”

“Wow, and they say I'm the idiot,” Aegon replied.

“You know what I meant.”

“Exactly, and that's why I meant what I said. So is it unusual for a nanny to be cultured? Please, that's why you don't have any friends.”

“And that's why I'm academically successful and I don't have to deal with you."

“Being a fucking snob? For sure."

“I wasn't being- you know what, take what you want, just get the fuck out of my face,” Aemond snapped.

“As you wish."

Although you both thought you were alone, by an unpleasant choice of fate you ended up listening to the entire conversation and imagine your surprise? It was something you hoped would happen eventually, but how small is it for someone to define a person by their profession or social class? You shouldn't be saddened that apparently your job as a nanny makes you culturally inferior in the eyes of Aemond Targaryen, but a few humiliated and embarrassed tears fell from your eyes before you silently withdrew.

That day your service was finished faster than usual, leaving the mansion discreetly and hastily. Other stray tears negatively graced your face along the way home and during your rest period. Thoughts about quitting your job were running through your head.

Bullshit, you needed the damn money.

But what is the cost?

Among other questions, the only thing you knew was the distance you would keep from Aemond Targaryen from then on, not even a stolen look, fear or secret admiration, all you felt for him was disgust. You hated snobs, and apparently he was one.

For the next few days you did your best not to meet him, or give him a look, though from what he had said about his condition earlier it was unlikely the Targaryen would mind his presence to notice any difference. Otherwise, you had no problems doing your chores and dealing with some other family members.

However, much to his mistake, Aemond continued to watch you as you played with little Aegon and Viserys throughout the manor. Again, he didn't know the source of the interest, but that afternoon (two weeks after it happened) when you spent too much time in the library with the little ones, he decided to act.

This time you noticed someone enter silently, making your heart sink. Somehow your subconscious suggested that the presence corresponded to the one you tried so hard to avoid, yet that didn't stop you from continuing to read a children's primer from the fancy wooden shelf without letting on your knowledge that you weren't alone.

He didn't know if you were oblivious to his presence or if you ignored him on purpose, so he decided to make himself seen.

“The section you're clearing contains the history of Old Valyria, from rise to fall," he began unrequitedly. “Have you read any of them?”

“The fall of Old Valyria.”

“The Untold Version?”

“More Believable Theories.”

“Hm.” In no time you turned to face him, generating a certain discontent in the platinum. Your answers were quick and dry, without trepidation or fear, intriguing him. “There are a few books by Septon Barth that I recommend reading, most notably Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History.”

“Thank you,” was all you said.”

He really didn't like that. Were you purposefully ignoring him?

“I can borrow mine if you like, it's in better condition than the one in the library," he suggested.

“I appreciate your kindness, but you don't have to."

“No problem."

“I don't intend to read,” you said, “I have no such fascination with dragons. Besides, maybe a nanny like me doesn't understand Septon Barth's far-fetched text.”

Oh fuck.

The silence that followed didn't stop you from continuing your service, while Aemond didn't take long to associate what you were referring to.

“Aegon told you?”

“No, I was close at the time.”

“…didn’t mean to put you down.”

“Really? It seemed that my condition as an employee did not allow me to have a cultural background, as you say. Not that I'm the most cultured person in the world, but yes, I understood perfectly what you meant.”

He sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you-"

‘I’m working, sir, if you have nothing else to say I would like to continue my work."

The shortness of breath that hit your body in the first conversation you had with him was replicated in the Targaryen upon hearing his response, almost paralyzed in place.

“I really didn't mean to offend you. I just understand that not everyone has access to the education and culture that money can offer.”

“Indeed, money restricts most of the population from having a quality education, but it does not mean that only the rich represent the apex of knowledge and holders of all culture, I can cite some examples from my life that contradict this.”

Aemond Targaryen was a shitty snob and you were determined never to see him again, however, he didn't seem to share the same feeling. Nobody ever spoke to him like that, not even his ex Alys. He was studying History at Citadel University, top student in his class, yet how could he be so blind and elitist?

“But that doesn't matter, as next week we won't continue to live together."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. The vacation had come to an end. No, he couldn't let you go like that, he didn't want to keep such a negative image about himself.

“I-I… fuck I'm not… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was stupid, I shouldn't have said that—I shouldn't have thought like that. Your thinking is correct.”

“Good for you.”

He knew better that keeping trying wouldn't get him anywhere, so he decided to lower his head and silently withdraw from his presence. You didn't mention anything to Rhaenyra when you said goodbye to her, as all in all, one negative moment couldn't define all the positive experience you had. In the end, even studying at the same institution as Aemond, its departments and buildings were different and far from each other, besides that you very much doubted to attend the same social cycle as him.

Although that fact was reassuring, that week the slender platinum figure did not leave your mind, always churning your stomach in disappointment and anger during the flashes of your last conversation. You agreed that only time would make you forget that inconvenience, but what you didn't know was that for Aemond such a mistake was unforgivable, and worse, you, the simple nanny, couldn't get out of his head.

— ewan taglist: @schniiipsel @aemonds-fire

[equalperson]

being autistic and avoidant

i've noticed that both my avoidant personality and my autistic neurology impact each other greatly. still, even though it's one of the more frequent personality diagnoses alongside autism, i don't really see anyone talk about what being an avoidant autistic is like.

that being said, here are a few ways i notice they interact in my personal experience:

cognitive empathy

a major part of both disabilities are their impacts on cognitive empathy. autism often causes people to avoid assuming others' thoughts and feelings, while avoidants tend to assume these feelings are negative and personal.

before i developed my avoidant personality, i fell into the latter category. people could be blatantly unhappy and i'd just...assume things were fine.

at this point, however, my avoidant perspective-taking has definitely become my main thought process. i always feel like people hate me or what i'm doing or just generally aren't in the mood to deal with me.

i wouldn't say that i "have cognitive empathy" now, but moreso that i'm too focused on avoiding rejection to not be constantly assume the worst.

self-esteem

another part of avoidant personality is the idea that you're socially inept, regardless of evidence. being autistic complicates this since--by definition--all autistic people would be considered "socially inept" by society.

this makes it difficult to know when autistic self-awareness ends and avoidant self-deprecation begins. am i incapable of [social thing] because i'm autistic, or because i simply don't believe i am?

at points, i've questioned my autism due to this. like, maybe i'm just exaggerating; i've seen allistic avoidants mistake it for autism before, as well.

however, others' perspectives and my significant restrictive/repetitive behavior makes it clear that it's not just me.

self-direction

my ability to manage myself is impacted by both my autism and my avoidance.

on the one hand, autism gives me executive dysfunction, autistic inertia, and rituals that are rigid to the point of self-sabotage.

but on the other hand, being avoidant makes me too self-conscious to take care of myself easily, namely considering that i don't live alone, thus am in a constant state of social vigilance.

for example, i've yet to learn how to cook.

one issue is that i've gotten so used to the routine of having food made for me that it's triggering to be suddenly encouraged to change, but another is that i'm afraid of the attention taking any initiative would bring.

i don't believe i'd be shamed for it, but being avoidant makes any attention feel intimidating to me; it's not purely a fear of criticism, but generally a fear of recognition (which is ironic considering that i'm also a narcissist, making me very attention-seeking, as well).

social skills

not only does being avoidant impact how i think of my social abilities, but also how i utilize them.

being alexithymic, it can be hard to understand even my own motivations in things. at points, i can't tell if i'm being quote/unquote "socially inept" because i can't understand the situation or because i simply don't want to make any moves.

for example, i almost never make eye contact with others. i originally thought of this as part of my autism, but i honestly can't tell if it's that or my avoidant personality.

on the one hand, eye contact is sincerely overwhelming, but on the other, i can easily do it with animals, fictional characters, and my own reflection. i also made eye contact pre-avoidance. maybe i'm simply too afraid of the intimacy, not actually sensory-sensitive to it?

in other situations, it can be a mixture of both autism and avoidance.

for example, i tend to avoid initiating conversations. i don't want to draw attention to myself or risk rejection, but i also genuinely don't know how i'm expected to start a conversation at all.

external perceptions

i've been told that my social anxiety is obvious, but not my autism. if most people knew what avoidant personality was, i assume i'd probably be recognized as outright avoidant very easily.

pretty much everyone considers me withdrawn in some way. i've been called quiet, indecisive, easy (as in "passive"), reserved, and various similar words.

in some cases, this works in my favor. there have been situations where people have treated me even friendlier than they do others because they see me as fragile.

in many other cases, this works against me; people avoid me because i'm too withdrawn for their tastes. this enables my avoidant behavior, as it affirms--and partially caused--my belief that no one could actually want to be around me.

in other cases, people don't see me as anxious, but just emotionally cold. people have sometimes questioned if i hated them or was angry with them due to my behavior. however, this is typically due to explicitly autistic behavior rather than anything avoidant.

apparently, people also see me as somewhat eccentric. my mom described it once as "the many quirks of ian." i'm not fully aware what these quirks are, but they're there.

[phenomenalgirl9]

Jungkook x Reader: Time of my Life

Summary: That time when you had to take up the role of your friend when she suddenly injured her leg. Yes dancing with an (almost stranger) partner wasn't as bad as you imagined it to be.

A/n: Happy Birthday Jungkookie. I never thought I'd be able to complete it before 1st Sept 11:59pm KST. Hugely inspired from the 1987 movie "Dirty Dancing". (Watch it if you haven't)

W/c: 19.5k

_____________________________________

When you joined the entertainment label you barely thought you'd find yourself here, in the arms of Jeon Jungkook trying to perfect mambo steps nonetheless. No, you didn't hate him, but it's just you don't know him well, even though He was your best friend's partner since forever. 

_____________________________________

2 days ago

"Where are you?" Yuna, the closest person you had to a best friend, scolded you over the phone. "On my way! I'm almost there. Sorry, one of the formations took too much time!" You said as you hung up and rushed into the studio you were supposed to be ½ an hour ago. You bowed to the other in the room as Yuna sent a glare towards you and stood in position. Yes, this was a ritual for Yuna to gather all of the choreographers and lead dancers of the label to show their final choreography before any competition. 

The music started and you watched Yuna and Jungkook dance with grace. They caught every beat together, every step Jungkook did, Yuna met him halfway. You've watched them together so many times and you're left in awe every time. No matter how many times she tells you there's nothing between them you refuse to believe that there's NO feelings involved. How else do you trust and are so in sync with a person?

1 day ago

You received a call from one of the staff and rushed to where they called you. 

"Oh my god. Yuna! Are you okay?!" You rushed to her, the poor girl was withering in pain. Jungkook ran into the room and scooped her in his strong arms, "we need to take her to the hospital" he said looking at you and you followed him out of the building. Turns out Yuna tore a ligament and her movement is restricted for 3 months. 

"Oh my god! Are you okay? Do you feel pain?" You asked. She sat there crying her eyes out as Jungkook was already there to comfort her in his arms. "I fucked up the compitition" she said, and you sighed. "Yuna c'mon it happens" she said and as Jungkook left her side to go grab a juice she hugged you, you caressed her hair. "It's not right for Kook to suffer," she said. "Hey, he'll understand, it's not like you did it. It just happened" you assured her. "Y/n you were the only one who was in alot of the practices. I know you pick up choreography just by watching it once or twice. You have it memorised don't you?!" She looked at you with big puppy eyes, and now you felt nervous with the direction the talk was going in. "I-" you stuttered and she continued. "I know you do, you pointed out that change in one of the postures and poses. Please Y/n, do it for me, not the company" she said. "You know I don't do intimate dances, this is mambo" you said. "Y/n you've done more intimate and difficult dances with your dancers" she said. "Yes but they are MY dancers. This is YOUR partner whom I barely know. I mean it, I don't even know his surname. What is he Kim? Lee?" You said and shrugged, trying to reason with her. "It's Jeon" Jungkook's voice rang from the back and you both looked at him "and are you crazy? Y/n L/N? Mambo with me? She freaked out when that new dancer touched her arm a bit out of place" he said, you didn't know if you should be happy as he's siding with you or feel offended. 

Yuna shook her head and looked at you "Y/n if you don't do this we'll be out for the whole rest of the year, not just this season. Which also means no payment for both of us" she said, "Jungkook shouldn't have to, no shut up" she stopped and shushed Jungkook's protests and said "he shouldn't have to live with this, please, at least try?" She looked at you with hopeful eyes, even though Jungkook said otherwise, he did too.

"Okay! I will try! But no promises" you said and Yuna cheered. 

_____________________________________

Hence, here you were, "your form is good, but you're too stiff" Jungkook remarked, as he tried the steps with you. "Y/n stiff with Jiminie (your lead dancer). You know what, both of you, go get coffee, get to know each other or Y/n will never loosen up”. You both tried to protest but Yuna wasn’t having any, even on the wheelchair she made you two do exactly what she wanted. Hence, after being thrown out of the studio you both walked to the Hybe cafe and grabbed your drinks. “Wah you like (Your favorite drink with special ingredient) I thought you'd be more of a matcha person” he said. “Why would you think that?” You asked and he shrugged chuckling. You learned that Jungkook was also born in Busan and in the same neighborhood as Yuna. He has an elder brother and has been dancing all his life, however he started mambo with Yuna on a whip. “Wait, so You've only ever danced with Yuna?” you asked in shock. “No, but I’ve only ever performed with Yuna,” he said and sipped his drink. You also told him about your family, and how dance has been your only outlet in childhood. How you never really have many real friends so new people scare you. That was when you realized he was as nervous as you were in this situation. But, if you didn’t overcome this both of them would be out for the whole year, until next spring. You sipped and completed the rest of your drink in one go and stood up. “Okay Jeon Jungkook, let's mambo” you said, and he almost choked, “Wah? What happened suddenly?” he asked. “I found my motivation” you said and walked and started walking towards the studio. Jungkook shook his head to see your phone still lying on the table and he quickly grabbed it before following you. 

Mid-way in the elevator, when you felt your pockets empty you exclaimed, “Oh no MY Phone!!” startling the others in the elevator. “This?” Jungkook said and smirked, showing his bunny teeth. You sighed and grabbed it “you could have told me sooner” you whined, “and miss that expression? Nah” he said and the two of you laughed. When you entered the studio you felt a bit better. 

_____________________________________

“Hands up, look into my eyes” Jungkook said, and you obeyed. “Y/n you can move a bit more closer, Jungkook doesn’t have cooties” Yuna said and again you obeyed. “Let him lead, as misogynistic as it sounds,” Yuna added again. “And 3, 2, 1, Turn, pull” Yuna said on the beat, and Jungkook twirled you and pulled you close, your back to his chest. You sucked in a breath as he lead you into the move, his hands roaming your body. “Pause!” you almost screamed and pushed him away and rushed out of the room. “Yuna wheeled behind you, before leaving she signaled Jungkook who was ready to run after you to stay put. “Y/n? Are you okay?” she asked as she found you crouched near the wall. “It’s uncomfortable right? I understand, If you want I-” she tried to comfort you but you interrupted her and said “No” you said "I will do this" you added and walked back while pushing Yuna with you. 

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asked as soon as you entered and you nodded. You tried the step again. "Y/n? Are you in pain?" Jungkook asked when you found your eyes shut tightly. You shook your head "go on" you said. "I can't. It seems like this step is physically hurting you" he said with concern in your eyes. You huffed and crouched down, and Jungkook did the same beside you, stroking your hair "are you okay?" And you nodded.

"Why don't we do it slowly little by little, do it progressively until you're okay with it?" He suddenly suggested. And you looked at him, into his big doe eyes his look was so sincere. You nodded and he pulled you up. And you did, did it once as he touched you little by little lightly. It felt less and less uncomfortable as he kept talking to you, telling you about his and Yuna's childhood days. 

_____________________________________

4 days later

"It's Pre-Shoot Day!!" Yuna cheered as Jungkook and you got into the company car. "Could you be any more excited?" You asked about drinking the (your favorite drink) that Jungkook brought with his latte. "We don't need to perform today, just a shoot and a small video," Jungkook said. 

He had your hand in his, the whole way, you felt comfortable and guilty. The past few days you've come to find a strange form of comfort in Jungkook. But, you knew it was wrong, Jungkook wasn't yours to hold. Him and you are just for the time being, it's him and Yuna, it always has been, by the looks of it. Then again you didn't have the heart to pull your hand away, so this once just this once you'll grab this one chance for yourself even if it's for 2 weeks. 

So you did, you aced the photo shoot and the video shoot. "You both have such good chemistry almost as good as Jungkook and Yuna" the director said and you tried your best to not let your smile falter, that was supposed to be a compliment, then  why did it feel the opposite. Jungkook cleared his throat and said "if it's done then we'll be off director nim" he said and pulled you away by your wrist. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, searching for your face that had almost dimmed and was drained of the excitement that you had a few minutes ago. You nodded and parted ways to get back to the green room. You were about to enter, when you heard the stylists that were previously aiding you discussing. 

"She's just a stand in"

"She isn't even half the elegance that Yuna had"

"Yeah I don't know if they'll be able to even win this year"

You hand tightened around the handle and you pushed in, grabbed your things and walked out. You went straight outside and hailed a cab and went back to the company building.

The staff were shocked when they watched you walk in teary eyed and step right into your studio and lock it. If someone would listen intently they'd hear the sound of sobbs from inside. As soon as the news reached Yuna she asked the staff to quickly take her to you.

"Y/n" she called from outside. "I swear to go, I will break this door if required if you don't open…what?.. you have a key" the last part was probably directed to whoever was there outside with her. "We have a key we'll get in, so just unlock and let me in. Just me. Promise" she said. You slowly walked to the door and pried it open and Yuna wheeled in and closed the door. 

"Did Jungkook do something? Say something? I'll kill-" Yuna was interrupted when you shook your head and said "no". "Just that-" you sighed and decided to tell her everything that happened, starting from the director's comments to what the staff said. "Y/n, those are dumb insignificant people who don't even know what they are talking about" Yuna said caressing your hair. "It's just, what if I pull you two down?" you asked. "You won't" the sound came from behind you two, there stood Jungkook in his normal baggy clothes near the studio door. "Go away" you said and pulled your knees to your chest and put your head down. "No" he said and instead came and sat beside you. "C'mon" he said and forced your head on his shoulder "stop considering me an outsider" he whined and you broke into a smile. He's such a good friend, you thought. 

_____________________________________

2 more days later

"You won't look through social media until the performance" Yuna said and uninstall your apps. 

"People are shit talking I know" you said and sighed. "Y/n would never be Yuna" you said and sighed again. "Y/n doesn't need to be Yuna, just Y/n can rock everyone with her dance and smile" Jungkook said with his bunny smile. The smile that has brought you comfort even during your multiple breakdowns. You smiled and mirrored his expression.

You both almost spent over 16 hours of the day together to practice and just parted ways to sleep. All the choreography was nearly perfected except the two lifts. You often lost balance and that was where you were tense.

"Yuna? Should I take you to the hospital tomorrow?" You asked. "Nope, you two carry on, manager nim will bring me and I think I'll take off. Why am I even working so hard if I am not dancing" she said and the two of you laughed. Hence, the next day you felt nervous, when you stepped into the studio to meet only Jungkook. He looked at you through the mirror, and smiled his bunny smile. You both lay the mattresses to practice the lifts. You both start off with a run through of the choreo, neither of you speak a word. The tension was seriously so thick you could cut it with a knife. Being alone with Jungkook did something weird to your brain. His every touch sent goosebumps down your spines. The first lift was easy and you managed it, then the bridge came, then you both prepared, you ran towards him and he was ready and you lightened your body and he picked you up with ease as you held your pose. And he put you down, and as if in reflex he immediately found his hand on your waist, the other on your neck and pulled you in, crashing his lip onto yours. He walked and pushed you while kissing you, until your back hit the mirror. Your both mouths are running in sync. The feeling of his lips on yours made you forget everything, who you were, what you are. Suddenly, realisation hit you, and you pushed him away. "Y/n? What's wrong?" he asked in utter confusion. "How could you?" You said and looked at him with disappointment. Walking out on him. 

How could I let this happen? She's my best friend?! What will she think? Fuck!, You thought. Jungkook kept calling but you never received them. Jungkook got impatient as time went and he finally called Yun and explained everything to her. Thank god she skipped the teasing (for now) and immediately called you. 

You flinched the moment you saw the name on the screen. How could you talk to her after what you've done? 

Both Yuna and for you to get back to either of them, but you didn't. So, when it was the next afternoon and you still hadn't come to the studio or called, Yuna decided to take matters into her own hands.

Meanwhile you wallowed in self-pity and sorrow and guilt. Ever since college days you knew Yuna was in love with Jungkook even though she didn't admit it. You watched the two of them perform together and the thought became a belief, you didn't really have any reason so you never really spoke to Jungkook beyond the pleasantries. But now being around him and your feelings. You felt dumb that the first crush you had in a while is the person your bestfriend is in love with. How could you just up and kiss him and do this?! Where was your conscience? Yuna would never want to see you again. What- 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the knock on the door. Who was it now? You walked to the door and opened it only to meet eyes with your best friend. "Y/n! You crazy lady" she said and rammed her wheelchair inside before you could react, so you moved and let her in. Might as well face her, the staff member behind her bowed and signaled you to shut the door.

You didn't say a word, "what's wrong with you?" She asked and you were still silent, you didn't know what to tell her. Did Jungkook not tell her? "Yuna I- I- did something terrible and I'm so sorry" you said and Yuna was confused, "I'm sorry I-I- kissed-" you stopped, you felt like your lung would explode. "Jungkook?" She completed your sentence and you looked at her. Was she here to confront you? "Why did you run away?" She asked. "I was so sorry cause I know you-" you stopped again and Yuna asked "Y/n why would you be sorry? It's just Jungkook" she said and you looked at her, your turn to be confused. 

"You're not angry? Why are you so okay?!" You asked.

"Why will I be if my two best friends are finally getting together, specially when one of the said best friends has been pining over the other for ages" she said and you stuttered"but I thought you, you and him- you" 

"I always told you I didn't like him, we just have that chemistry cause we know each other since we were in diapers. He's like a brother to me" she said and you sat down. Yuna came to you and wiped your tears away. "Y/n, you fool" she said and pulled you into a hug. "Do you know how long I've waited for you two to interact? He's been pining after you since 3 years ago when we joined the entertainment" she said, and you were shocked. Jungkook is generally quiet on the outside so maybe you never even noticed him like that. 

"Please go to him, he almost cried last night when you switched off your phone for him" Yuna said and you fiddled with your hair. 

Yuna dropped you at the company building with almost a threat to pulverize both of you, if you didn't "fix this". 

You looked through the little glass window to see Jungkook lying on the ground. You opened the door and he said "did you talk to her Yu-" he stopped talking when he looked at the door and saw you standing instead. Suddenly, you felt extremely conscious of yourself and your messy hair that you noticed now with the mirror in front of you. "Hi" was all you could muster as you walked in further, but he was still silent and still. "I'm sorry, I misunderstood you" you said and he frowned in confusion. 

"I was really under the impression that you liked Yuna and I freaked out cause. I liked you and thought that you didn't but you ki-" you were shut off by the force of his lips on yours. And you wrapped your hands around his neck and closed your eyes. 

"You're all I have ever liked" he said when he finally parted. "Like are you blind?" I brought you coffee and food so many times" he said, pouting. "I thought you were just being nice or Yuna sent them, you never really said anything apart from Food for you and a smile" you defended yourself and he pulled you into a hug. 

_____________________________________

Hence, here you were, on the day of the competition. Hand in hand with Jungkook on standby waiting for the host to call out your name. 

Now I've had the time of my life 

No, I never felt like this before 

Yes I swear, it's the truth 

And I owe it all to you

You both started the routine, hitting every step as the crowd cheered on.

Now with passion in our eyes 

There's no way we could disguise it secretly 

So we take each other's hand  'Cause we seem to understand the urgency

Everyone was surprised with the energy and chemistry that you radiated, the ease with which Jungkook made you move and you followed his lead. You both nailed the 1st lift. It was just you and him, nothing and nobody else mattered. 

Just remember,

You're the one thing 

I can't get enough of 

So I'll tell you something 

This could be love, because 

I've had the time of my life

That part came and Jungkook smiled. He trusted the both of you and you just need to have faith. You both parted away and you rushed towards him and with a simple movement he picked you up steadying the two of you and you held the position. The cloud erupted in a cheer as he put you down continuing the choreography. 

'Cause I've had the time of my life 

And I've searched through every open door 

'Til I found the truth  

And I owe it all to you.

You both hugged tight as cheers burst out among the crowd, even the other dancers were clapping and cheering so hard. Jungkook and you walked down the stage and Yuna pulled you both into hugs. "I'm so proud of you two, especially you Y/nie." She said.

_____________________________________

2 months later

"You set the bar too high for me," Yuna grumbled, as this season's trophy shined on the studio shelf. "Can you both stop eating faces and listen to me!" Yuna's yelling brought you back two back from your world.

"My baby is going away for a week with that Jimin hyung" Jungkook said grumbling. "Aw, don't be jealous, there's also Felix, Minghao and Wooyoung" you said, patting his head as he grumbled further and reluctantly stood up to restart practicing with Yuna. 

"I love you and trust you, don't worry," he said. "I wasn't worried, but I love you too, " you replied. 

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