#*grabbing my own little face and staring into my eyes* my brother in christ u got 4 hours sleep and worked longer than u thought u would

[getoutofmytardis]

uhhh

[spikesbimbo]

Ok i know you love sachirou 🥺 but imagine being sandwhiched between both hirugamis 🤤 tall giant men that just tower over you 🤤🤤

summary: your boyfriend lets his little brother fuck you for his birthday

pairing: hirugami brothers x f!reader

cw: threesome, oral sex, peeping/voyeurism, all holes fucked, daddy kink, squirting, anal sex, cum eating, creampie

wc: 2.3k

a/n: Happy birthday to my baby boy!!! < 3

When he spent the night at his brothers, he said it was just because his house was too far away, just wanting to sleep there. But in reality you were to only thing he wanted to see after a long day, hearing your sweet moans crying out daddy while his brother was fucking you affected him way more than it should have, fisting his cock at the thought of you calling him that too.

Even when he was home he couldn't get you out of his mind, porn not working anymore, just the thought of you bouncing on his cock was enough to make him cum.

And in the morning when you walked downstairs making breakfast, greeting him in little clothing, just his brother's jersey. The  “2”  being bold as ever, a somewhat claim on you, seeing you just in your panties as far as he could tell.  And you didn't mind, stating that you were family now after all, right?

But what he didn't know was his brother noticed how he acted around you, when you gave him a good morning hug or a goodbye one, he noticed how stiff he got, a light  blush rushing to his face. Furoko noticed the way his brother would stare at you, eyeing up your pretty body, but he surprisingly didn't mind. Getting a kick out of the fact that you had him swooning just from being in your presence.

He loved showing his pretty girl off, loving the way men would stare at you while you clung onto his arm, you short little skirt blowing in the wind, giving them a sneak peak of what was his. He also caught his little brother gripping his cock to you, knowing that you were the cause after you shoved him into your arms, thinking that he was fukuro, your chest being shoved in his face while squeezing him tightly.

You just laughed when you realized that it wasn't him, giggling out “You two look so much alike... but daddys bigger, and I couldn't feel his scruff.” Slowly letting go as you skipped into your boyfriend's arms with a fat innocent smile. Did he just hear you right, daddy? Was that a slip up or did you not care, he looked up at his brother also not reacting to it other than giving you a kiss. 

You left him there going to ‘take a shower’ as you said, not knowing what you did to him, or did you?

----------------------------------------------

His birthday dinner was going great until his parents brought up the fact that you and fukuro were so good together, jealousy festering inside of him but pushing it to the back of his head. Knowing he was acting immature.

But he couldn't help but  hink how you always get left home alone, waiting for him to come back from his job, thinking that he wouldn't treat you like that. Knowing that he’d give you all the attention you needed, fucking you when and wherever you wanted. Not realizing your boyfriend did the same, coming home in the middle of the night after practice then fucking you back to sleep.

Again he crashes at your place, going to his room adjacent to yours after you gave him another goodnight hug. Just in your tank top and little shorts, hugging you back and he felt your soft tits squeeze up against him. 

Fuck.

He can't sleep, not with your angelic moans distracting him as his brother plows into you, not even trying to hide it, The bed creaking loud as ever, while your voice gets higher and higher. He gets up eventually, going to the kitchen to get some water, but stops walking once he sees the door left slightly open, your bare pussy on display for him.

He leans against the wall, watching as you get your body felt up, tits being squeezed perfectly in his big hands. And he can't help but lean his back against the wall and stroke himself through the fabric of his briefs, the need to please himself greater than the need to sleep, doing anything to see your body again.

He finds himself watching the stroke of his hands on you as you whimper for him to fuck you already, his grip stiff as he pulls his briefs down, freeing his cock as he starts getting off to the thought of you and your pretty body. He’s so caught up in his own world that he doesn’t notice until your moans have stopped and fukuro had joined his hiding, until he jumps hearing his brother speak behind him.

“I could say this wasn't expected.” fukuro grinned, a hint of possessiveness in his voice as he locked eyes with him, resting his arm on his shoulder. “But i'd be lying.”

“She sounded so nice, didn't she?” kuro muttered, his tongue licking his lips as he looked back at you, hiro following his gaze. Their eyes grazing you with your ass spread in the air, clinging on the pillow with fat tears dried on your cheeks, not being able to control movements as you back up, arching more.

Hiro turns his head back and stares at his brother, disbelief coloring his features because is fukuro expecting them to have a conversation about how hot you sound while he was getting off to the thought of you, while his hand was still holding his hard cock.

He drags hiro into the room before he can say anything, almost throwing him onto you. His face landing next to your tits, nipples hard and wet, so inviting as he freezes pulling himself up closer to you. Fukuro sets himself behind you as he slips a hand into his own pants while grabbing your cunt with his whole hand, slick slipping between his fingers.

 He has no shame, if any less than hiro, he’s just being a good older brother is his mind and just kisses your forehead when you give him those eyes.“You two though...,” you feel your cheeks grow hotter as you get even more wetter under the pressure of their stares.“ I don’t mind sharing if it gets you like this baby” 

Hiro’s movement stutters as your hand reaches out to grab his neck, fingernails dragged across his collarbone. “Don't tell me you're a virgin” Fukuro said, as your eyes grew needier with every second, not wanting his baby to feel teased anymore tonight.

 “What! No, it's just that...” He couldn't express how he never thought this day would come, his puppy crush on you turning into reality for one night as your bare body laid underneath him, needy little hole begging to be fucked.

He looks at you, his cock growing harder as he leans up into your ear, wrapping his arm around you resting his hand on your tummy. “You okay with this baby? I don't wanna do anything you wouldn't like even if it is hot, not gonna lie, but...” He waits for you to respond, inviting you to get fucked by both of them and you eventually respond by grinding on hiro’s cock, moaning like you were in heat.

Mumbling out your consent while Hiro’s still in awe, just nodding as you continue you wrap your pussy against his length. “yeah” you whimpered out, faintly smiling as your hazy eyes grew darker while you opened your legs further. “I can give the birthday boy what he wants.”

“Fuck you're so wet” kuro said reaching around spreading your folds open, dripping onto the sheets beneath you. “You like being shared, huh?” he teased, gazing at the sight below him, moving his thumb down to rub your throbbing clit, so swollen and needy.

“You gonna let him fuck that sloppy little cunt baby, hmm?” You quickly nodded, trying to fuck yourself on him, getting impatient as kuro laughed at you for being such and needy baby.

Your breath is held as he lines himself up with you, catching on his name while his eyes meet your, staring almost into you. Still looking dumbfounded as he rocks his hips up into you, your wetness sucking him in while your croaky voices whines out.

“Fuck y/n. Jesus christ, you gotta loosen up, okay?” he groaned out, his cock never feeling so suffocated in his life while kuro was wondering why he did a 180. The way you cant even respond, being limp in their arms is proof enough that he’s doing a good job. Never caring about anyone before, just using them to get off if anything.

He bottoms out, resting for a minute before deciding that he had to get you comfortable manually. His hand wandering up from your thighs to your pretty tits that he's been wanting to hold for so long, so soft, so jealous that his brother gets to sleep on them every night as he flicks your nipples making you squeal.

He still holds that one, never wanting to let go while he lets spit fall onto your tiny little hole swallowing him up, acting as lube as his other hand moves up to your clit, gently rubbing it in circles with his thumb. Loving the way you were falling apart on him right now as he could finally start thrusting into you, not being able to take his time after easing into you.

 “Can I u fuck your ass baby” kuro said into your ear, his finger replacing hiro’s as you were quickly getting rocked back and forth.

 “Y-yeah, please daddy, hurry up, ple-” You mumbled out, words getting choked out as his thrust knocked the air out of you. Kuro kissed the top of your head before grabbing the lube on the dresser, putting an obscene amount, that was needed, onto his fingers. Stretching you out before sliding his cock into, mouth left open at the movement, always feeling like a virgin with him.

 “Shh…. we got you baby, don’t we?” he said looking up at his younger brother who was again in his own world. Pinching your nipple as he was watching you cream all over his cock, swearing that he's never seen something so entrancing in his life. Fucking into you harder and harder, trying to make you see stars as your cried out his name over and over again, just how he dreamed of.

 “Daddy!” you cried digging your nails into hiro’s chest, his cock almost stretching you out as much as your boyfriends, ramming into your cervix with each thrust like he was trying to prove a point.

 “I feel betrayed baby, he fuckin you that good? Kuro chuckled out, holding back a groan as your tight little ass clenched around him. He looked down at your tongue lolling out, eyes rolled back. Never feeling this full in your life, both your greedy holes being fucked at the same time, only one being left as he read your mind, shoving his fingers down your throat, making you gag, so pretty.

“m-m’gonna make a mess.” You cried, his dripping wet fingers leaving your lips as your mouth stayed open, drool escaping down your lips onto your chest, running down your nipples. Looking like a blessing before his eyes.

“You are? Show him what you can do baby.” he said bringing his fingers back up to your clit rubbing harsher, wanting to show you off.

“Lemme cum- please-”

His mind racing with what his brothers done to you to have you begging like this, asking permission to cum. He responds quickly, it being the only thing on his mind since he’s first saw you. “Yeah love, cum just like this,” He grunted out, sweat falling onto you as you gripped onto his arms. “Cum round my cock baby c’mon.”

Your back arches in a quiet, mouth opening scream as your orgasm hits, vision going white while hiro speeds up, getting rougher as he seeks his own release. Your cum getting everywhere, making his abdomen and kuro thighs a soaking mess. He lets out a “fuck” as he brings it up to his mouth with his free hand, sucking on his digits, tasting heavenly.

“You gonna take his cum like a good girl? Kuro’s warm breath mouthed out in your ear as you clung onto him now, back still arched, spread so pretty for him. His thrusts making you jiggle in this position now, the sight of your thighs and tits bouncing sending him into overdrive.

“Yeah” you shook your head nodding into his shoulder, wanting to be even more stuffed full. “That’s my girl”

You shake as he continues to abuse your aching cunt. Kuro gripping your hips, curses leaving his lips along with him warning his brother. “don’t knock her up hiro, that’s my job.” Your tears crying out so weakly until his hips stutter and stop thrusting completely, shallow pushing himself deeper into you as you milk his orgasm for all it’s worth finally letting you go limp.

You collapse in their arms after he pulled out, hiro resting his weight on your chest, you already half in your dream world, dozing off. His eyes about to close too until kuro pushed him off, complaining that he was too heavy and that his baby needed beauty rest.

“Go shower and sleep” he uttered out.

He took one last look at your fucked out body laying in him, before walking out of the room. The thoughts of you still plaguing his mind, knowing that nothing would ever top this, this was his best birthday yet.

[pinoyrella]

Inarizaki Giving You A Red Envelope on Lunar New Years

Inarizaki x Manager Reader

FT: Kita Shinsuke, Ren Omimi, Ojiro Aran, Michinari Akagi, Ginjima Hitoshi, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Suna Rintarou

TW: Language 

Genre: headcanons + crack + fluff???

Word Count: 1,720 (They’re all rlly short! Like me)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

had another crack convo w my bb @babydontstoop abt atsumu and red envelopes after seeing a funny tiktok 

a/n: i mainly went off from chinese/vietnamese tradition with the hóngbāos/ and lì xìs for these headcanons bc i celebrate with my chinese + viet relatives growing up, im not familiar with the other traditions, i’m sorry! also 1 week kinda late but technically lunar new years goes on for about 2 weeks sooooo-

FYI: i’m going off of u.s currency for this asdhfkjk just an fyi.

ALSO: all images are taken off of google search, none of them belong to me!

ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEARS!! 🧧😚💖

Kita Shinsuke:

- He would give a kinda subtle yet pretty envelope

- With an ox on it (bc year of ox)

- It also has that coin u kno the coin, commemorative coin(?)

- He is very VERY generous

- Gives u $100, all in 20′s babbeyy 🙈

- He hands it to you with both hands like he’s ur ah ma / bà nội 

- He’s so kind and gentle please 🥺

Practice had just ended and you were helping the team clean out the gym, before packing and heading out to go home.

“Excuse me Y/n” You hear a soft and calm voice calling from behind you. Turning your head you make eye contact with Kita who barely a few feet away from you

“Kita-san! ” You turn to face him, your hands grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “May I help you?” You ask giving a sincere smile.

“I’m fine, but there is something I want to give you before you leave” He lifts his left hand from his back, now using his right to connect and grab the envelope with both hands.

“Happy Chinese New Year” He wishes as he extends and offers you the red envelope.

Blushing furiously, you accept it with both your hands and give him your most heartfelt thanks.

Arriving home, you open the red envelope curious. Your soul leaves your body the moment you see good old Benjamin Franklin on the $100 note.

“Kita-san holy fuck.” You cry in shock. Thinking of how you’re gonna thank him.

Ren Omimi:

- Envelope’s square shaped and plain af

- it’s just red with “lucky money” in gold or sum

- He too is very generous

- Gives u $50

- Also hands it to you with both hands

You sit in the gym with your clip board in hand, taking notes of the other players until you feel a presence approach you from your left side.

“Y/n” The deep voice says. You turn to see Omimi’s shadow towering over you, jesus christ this man’s so goddamn tall. “Yes Omimi?” You greet him cheerfully.

The man says not a word, but pulls out a red envelope, handing it to you with both hands.

Your brain short circuits, confused before he gives a nod. Sudden realization takes place, it’s for you. “Omimi!” You cry, setting down the clip board and taking the red envelope from his hands. Thanking him endlessly before he leaves to get back to practice.

As he turns to walk away, you grab your clip board again, shielding yourself opening the red envelope curious. ‘50$?!’ You scream internally. 

Running after Omimi, you tackle him from behind giving him a hug, your face buried into his shirt. “Xiexie” You muffled into his jersey.

Aran Ojiro:

- gets you a very fancy envelope

- Like the ones that isn’t sold in packs when u go to the chinese market

- Specifically the ones made from silk and has a jade ring attached

- He gets u ONE LIKE O N E THAT ONE SPECIFIC DESIGN (pls i sound crazy i’ll just attache the image so u kno what im talking abt)

- He wasnt sure how much to put inside so he gives u $40

- He tries to remember how to say happy new year to you and pronounces it perfectly

- No seriously like PERFECTLY like better than me.

- also take this man home right now to meet your parents i fken swear

“Y/N!” You hear someone yell from behind you as you were walking home. Turning you see Aran running to you, trying to catch up.

“Aran?” You run to meet him halfway.

Aran pauses and takes a few breathes before grabbing his backpack and grabbing something from inside.

He pulls out a beautifully crafted silk red envelope pouch with a tassel and jade ring tied to the front.

You stand there completely flustered and frozen.

He looks down, the envelope in both his hands offering it out to you.

“恭喜發財 (gōng xǐ fā cái)” He says perfectly, the sunset hitting his face. 

Akagi Michinari:

- Cute bb would give u the cutest fucking envelope

- Probably w hello kitty on it

- He gives you a $2 bill

- Shiiiii he knows whats up, that shit lucky and rare

- He’d hand it to u while giving u a back hug

“Y/n!!!” Before you can turn around, a heavy weight drags you down from behind. “A-Akagi-san?!” You yelp in surprise.

He stays cling onto you from behind as you try to gain balance. Hearing him let out a soft chuckle. “Here you go!” He says, his arms going around your shoulders to shove the super cute Hello Kitty li xi in your face.

You take a second to process what he had just given you to face. “AKAGI!!” You take it as he hops off your back. Then turning around to smother him into a hug. Giving him little cheek kisses.

Ginjima

- I love him, he would give u a cute envelope too

- Like with a little cartoon ox character on it

- With like lil horns sticking out

- U get the idea

- Gives u $10 but in $2 bills

You sit with the Miya twins and Suna during lunch, scanning around the cafeteria trying to find Ginjima, usually he’d be with you guys.

As you were about to ask-speak of the devil.

“Y/n-chan” He immediately sits beside you, placing his tray of food down.

“This is for you” He reveals the cutest red envelope with a cartoon cow on it, handing it to you flustered. His cheeks bursting red.

You sit and stare for a second, you start to blush feeling embarrassed. Slowly taking it from his hands, you give him a quiet ‘thank you’ before returning to your meal.

Unsure of what to do, before going back into your meal, you quickly turn your head planting a kiss to his cheek.

Osamu, Suna and Atsumu watched, their jaw dropped as Ginjima begins to turn into his own red envelope. Before you quickly place your face in your palms.

Atsumu Miya:

- This mfer would give the flashiest one

- Like you kno the ones that are so colorful and has like

- W those shitty knock-off characters from cartoons

- THE FUCKING MINION OR PEPPA PIG ONE BWHAHAHAH

- Hes broke as fuck so its p empty

jk

- He would put a coin inside.

- Not the fortune coin

- Literally a coin like a quarter or somethin

- Hed slap it against ur table while giving it to u

- He tries to say happy new year but fucking butchers it

You sit at your desk, it’s so early in the morning and your parents had woken you up early to help prepare some cooking essentials for tonight’s dinner. 

As you were about to doze off to sleep, you hear a CLACK against your desk, immediately waking you up and having you face up.

Just inches away was Atsumu’s face, that lil smirk oh how you just wanna-

You look down seeing the red envelope he placed on your desk. 

“CHUC MUNG NAM MOIIIIIII” he greets dragging out the “i” it’s like he didn’t even try to pronounce the greeting correctly. He ruffles your hair and gives another warm smile. 

You look back up to him, blushing before greeting back. “Ah, chúc mừng năm mới ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu quirks his eyebrow staring back down at you. “I’m pretty sure you said it wrong.” He says before walking off to his desk.

You sit there fucking flabbergasted. ‘What the fuck?’ You blink and turn your attention back down to your desk. Looking at the envelope you cringe. ‘It’s so bright...’ you internally think.

Osamu Miya:

- He gives you the basic basic red envelope 

- He was running late and didnt have time to stop by the bank, he wanted to be extra and give you $20 in $2 bills.

- So he just gives you a $20 bill.

- When he hands it to u, u notice its all bumpy

- Ur feeling around the envelope and theirs something else inside than just money

- U open and theres lucky candy stuffed inside

“Good-morningggggg” You turn to look up from your desk, seeing the younger twin walk in after his brother. He looks down at you, then to your desk seeing the red envelope his brother gave you. 

He cringes with you, before pulling out another, handing it to you.

“Happy Tết cutie” He greets. You thank him and greet him back as you take the envelope, you realize how bumpy and lumpy it is. 

You look back up to Osamu, he’s waiting for you to open it. You open it and out drops like 7 pieces of lucky candy. 

You look back up to him in confusion before he swoops in and takes back the 7 pieces, unwrapping them all at once and shoving them into his mouth.

Chewing, he winks at you before walking away to his seat. You can hear the audible crunch coming from the hard as fuck candy as he walks away.

Suna Rintarou:

- My guy doesnt even give you a red envelope

- He straight up just gives you cash

- Drops it on your desk and leaves

…

- Im jk he would come back and be like “sike u thought”

- Pulls out a red envelope, cute but has one of the most stupidest fucking design 

You listen to the crunching of Osamu’s poor teeth grinding against the lucky candy before-

“Yo” Before having the time to look up, you hear a slap against your desk as Suna begins to turn to walk away. You look down to see a $50 bill on your desk.

You turn to look at him, he stares at you for a second before walking away.

???

He comes back to you after settling his bag down.

He takes the $50 on your desk and slips it into the red envelope now in his hands. After sliding it in he brings the envelope to his mouth and begins to lick the ends as he seductively looks at you before folding the paper in. 

You watch him in disgust suna baby you don’t have to lick the ends of the red envelope that’s not how they work. He sets the red envelope back on your desk, his head coming closer to yours, enough for you to feel his breath against you.

He brings his mouth over to your ear before whispering in a husky voice “Happy Lunar New Year đẹp gái qua~” Before pulling away and walking to his desk like nothing happened.

You sit there absolutely shaken, until you look down to see the red envelope he left. Jesus fuck what the hell is that thing.

A/N: OH TO BE CALLED PRETTY GIRL BY SUNA IS AN ULTIMATE DREAM ASDFGKJHJK pls i wanna gib the inarizaki boys smooches theyre all so great AAAHHHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE MWAH ILYYYY!!!!

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Movie Night

(Stiles Stilinski x Reader)

Request: Hey could I have a Stiles × reader where they are watching a horror movie. She enjoys horror movies but u know how Stiles would react while watching one..So she pranks Stiles and he gets mini heart attack and the reader gets into a laughing fit seeing his reaction..Somehow he finds out that she is ticklish and takes matters into his hands... something cute and little long. Thanks

Word count: 2,347

Warnings: so much fluff it’s nauseating

Notes: this is my first ever request so hopefully I did it justice!! I loved this concept so much & if any of you lovely people have something you want me to write for Stiles feel free to send your ideas my way!

———————————————————————

You snuggled up close to Stiles’ side on the couch, pressing play on the remote before setting it onto the coffee table that supported your crossed legs. It was your weekly movie night and you had finally convinced him to watch something scary.

You’d been dying to indulge in your love of horror films since fall began, and with Halloween now just around the corner, you were running out of time. Yes, you could technically watch them whenever you wanted, but it was always so much more satisfying during this time of year. 

Sadly, all your friends are babies. Every last one of them had refused your invitations. It wasn’t that you minded watching scary things alone, but seeing other people’s reactions was your favorite part of the experience. Finally, after a couple weeks of almost constant nagging, Stiles begrudgingly agreed. 

You were secretly elated that he’d been the one to give in, because he was your movie person. The two of you had kept your weekly date for two years now. It only made sense to do this with him. 

His rules were: the lights stay on, you have to warn him before scary parts, and you’d be watching any rom-com of his choosing right after.

You smiled to yourself as the movie started. You’d picked the scariest thing you could find, partially because it’d been so long since you were truly terrified of a film and you missed it, but also because you loved fucking with Stiles. He was already completely freaked out and the title page had barely disappeared.

He sat impossibly still beside you, staring at the screen with wide eyes. He was almost always on edge nowadays, and this whole thing was only exasperating the problem. Although everything on screen seemed peachy now, he knew it would take a turn for the worst when he least expected it.

Things like this always made his anxiety skyrocket. It’s why he tried so hard to avoid this very situation. He was honestly surprised it had taken you this long to force him into watching something other than your usual lighthearted flick. 

He’d already faced enough real monsters and demons to supply a lifetime of nightmares. The last thing he wanted was to spend his free time being scared, but he knew how happy it would make you to watch your favorite genre for once. Plus, he figured he owed you after you sat through Never Been Kissed three times in a row. It was only fair that he suffer a little bit too.

Stiles jumped with a quiet gasp when one of the characters popped out to playfully scare their brother, and you chuckled to yourself in amusement. You were going to have a blast watching him freak out at every little thing.

“This is awful.” He breathed from beside you, still stiff as a board. “There is literally nothing worse we could be doing on a Friday night.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “You mean like getting murdered by a supernatural creature?”

“At least that wouldn’t take two and a half hours.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.

You just smiled and returned your head to its resting place against his shoulder. You guys usually took turns picking a movie, but he’d put a firm “nothing scary” clause in your movie night agreement, so your options were always limited. 

Yes, the two of you had actually typed out a document when you started this freshman year. 

There were only a few important notes in it. Neither party could cancel under any circumstances—with the exception of a life threatening event—nothing scary, and no one else was invited. Friday nights were for you and Stiles, and the two of you only.

About forty minutes in, you knew there was a particularly bad jump scare coming, so you let your eyes slowly sweep up toward his face. You considered warning him, but decided it would be way more fun to watch his genuine reaction.

When it happened, he spazzed so violently that he launched the bowl of popcorn you’d both been munching on across the room. You erupted into a fit of laugher, clutching at your stomach as you replayed the horrified look on his face over and over in your mind.

“You were supposed to tell me!” Stiles shouted accusingly, his skin growing warm with embarrassment as he shoved himself off the couch to clean up. 

He was trying so hard not to let this movie get to him, but the actors were really convincing, and he was scared shitless. Tears were streaming down your face as you finally forced yourself to settle down after a couple of minutes. You wiped your cheeks clean with a sigh, still fighting a few lingering giggles.

“I just couldn’t resist.” You admitted breathily before joining him on the floor to help pick up the remainder of the snack.

Not a single surface in your living room had been spared. It was in the bookshelves on either side of the TV, between the couch cushions, and even floating inside your parents’ fish tank.

By the time you both sat back down, you remembered that something way worse was about to happen. A slow grin pulled at your lips as you came up with a brilliantly evil idea. You leaned forward to grab the plastic bowl off the coffee table and popped to your feet.

“I’m gonna go make some more.” You barely even had time to think about taking a step before Stiles’ hand jerked up to wrap around your wrist.

“Are you out of your freakin’ mind? You can’t leave me alone in here.” He looked up at you with big, pleading eyes, something he knew you couldn’t resist.

The thought of watching this movie by himself for even a few minutes had his heart sputtering in his chest. He knew he wouldn’t last thirty seconds without you. You glanced away from his face, feeling your resolve crumbling at the desperate gleam in his eyes. 

You had to go through with this. It was just too good. “Stiles, I’ll be in the next room. You can literally still see me.”

He glanced toward the kitchen, only a few feet away, needing proof despite the fact that he’d been to your house enough times to have the entire floorplan memorized. With a skeptical twitch of his eyes, he let your arm slowly slide out of his hold. You spun on your heel and grinned triumphantly, practically skipping away from him.

You took a few moments to find a new bag of popcorn and place it into the microwave, wanting your excuse to seem believable. After starting it, you turned around just in time to see Stiles peering at you nervously over his shoulder.

It wasn’t that he actually thought something would happen to you in the three minutes it took for the popcorn to cook, but this movie seemed so much worse without you beside him. You quirked an eyebrow expectantly as you braced your hands on the counter, and he hesitated before slowly turning around with a pout.

As soon as Stiles’ back was to you, you dropped into a crouch on the tiled floor, silently crawling toward the kitchen doorway. You leaned around the corner to check on him before continuing. 

He scratched at the side of his head and squinted one eye closed when the music on the TV became slow and suspenseful. That sound had literally never come before anything good. His right leg started bouncing anxiously as he silently prayed you would be back before whatever horror was about to happen.

His attention was firmly planted on the screen as he sat on the edge of his seat and fidgeted with his fingers. You made your way out of the kitchen and shuffled quickly toward the back of the couch. Just as you reached it, the microwave went off with a high pitched beep beep beep.

Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin, heart lurching up into his throat at the unexpected noise. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He muttered to himself, putting a hand to his chest in an effort to calm his ragged breathing.

The microwave went off again a moment later, since no one had opened the door yet, and he turned to look into the kitchen curiously. He wondered what was taking you so long as his eyes flickered over the room. A moment later, his brows furrowed in confusion when he saw that it was now empty.

“Y/N?” He moved up onto his knees and turned so he could see better.

You scurried around to the other end of the couch to avoid being caught and put a hand over your mouth, having way too much fun already as a few giggles threatened to expose you.

“Y/N, this isn’t funny...” Stiles’ voice was laced with panic as he made a move to stand up.

He had no idea what could’ve happened to you only a few feet away, but your lack of response was troubling. His stomach tightened as he peered into the kitchen without actually getting any closer. He was honestly terrified, the chilling music behind him doing nothing to make the situation better. 

You knew this was your moment.

“Boo!” You popped up onto your feet with a jerk and wiggled your fingers at him.

Stiles let out a loud scream, his face crumbling in pure horror as he clumsily scrambled as far away from you as possible. He tripped on his own feet and somersaulted over the couch armrest, landing on his ass with a bounce. He stared at you with wide eyes and parted lips, honestly surprised his heart was still beating.

Meanwhile, you were in complete hysterics. You were laughing so hard you had to gasp for breath as you doubled over and rested your hands on the other armrest. Stiles glowered, annoyed with himself for not expecting you to do something like this.

He pursed his lips, eyes twitching as you just kept going and going. After about a minute, he’d had enough. He practically lunged forward and grabbed you around the waist before pulling you onto the couch with him.

You yelped in shock, not expecting the quick move since you’d been too busy cackling at your own success. You settled down and blinked up at Stiles with wide eyes as you now lay beneath him, caged in by his legs on either side of your hips. His lips twitched into a frown and your found yourself glancing down toward them.

“That was so not funny.” He tried to look upset, but he could never actually stay mad at you. Plus, despite being the butt of that joke, it was a tiny bit funny.

“Oh, come on, it—” You suddenly broke into a fit of giggles as one of his hands brushed against your ribs.

His eyes widened in recognition as an idea popped into his head. His lips pulled into a slow, wicked grin. “Wait, are you ticklish?”

You instantly sobered up at his question. You’d gone this long without him finding out about that secret and you did not want him knowing now.

“No.” The word rushed from your lips a little too quickly, your eyes wide with apprehension.

He only gave you a brief moment to prepare before he attacked, both of his hands wrapping around your sides. His fingers wiggled against you quickly and you immediately dissolved into another round of uncontrollable giggling. Your back arched up off the couch in an effort to get away from the overwhelming sensation.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile earnestly down at you. In this moment, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He decided right then that if your laughter was the only sound he could hear for the rest of his life, he’d still be a happy man.

“Say you’re sorry.” He demanded, watching joyful tears stream down the sides of your face.

Your hands clasped around his as you tried twisting free of his tight hold. “I-I’m so-rry!”

His grin only widened, loving the sight of you squirming beneath him as his fingers continued, unrelenting. “And you’ll never scare me again.”

“I’ll nev-never...scare...you a-again!” You gasped the words out, your stomach starting to ache as your muscles contracted repeatedly.

He stopped as suddenly as he’d started and you sagged against the couch with a heavy sigh of relief. Your heart was racing in your chest and it felt like you’d just done a ridiculous amount of sit-ups. Stiles smirked down at you triumphantly and pushed off the couch before offering a hand so you could pull yourself up.

Once you were both upright, he grabbed the remote and turned the movie off. You pouted a little, knowing there were still about thirty minutes left, but couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. You figured he’d be done after that. He quickly flitted through Netflix until he found what he wanted. 

You fell back with a groan as he clicked on one of his favorites: Clueless.

It wasn’t a bad movie. You actually enjoyed it the first five times you two had watched it. By now, though, you must’ve seen the damn thing at least a hundred. You could both quote the whole thing, something he was proud of while you were very much not.

“Payback’s a bitch.” He declared simply before discarding the remote somewhere on the floor. 

He leaned down on the couch and opened his arms expectantly. You rolled your eyes at the fact that he’d somehow gotten his way again, but didn’t hesitate to curl into his chest.

You chewed on your bottom lip to hold in a chuckle as the movie started, already plotting next years prank. You knew it would take at least that long to convince him into watching anything even remotely scary again.

You’d have to figure out a way to outdo yourself when the time came, and you were already looking forward to it.

[celosiaa]

enough for now

A gift for @taylortut​ who I love so very much!! She didn’t ask for it but I did the dang thing anyway based on things that you’ve said you like! I hope this brings some little bit of extra good to your day, my dear <3 even if it is a lil angsty lol

CW flashback, panic attack

Focus. Focus.

You’re wasting your time.

You’ve already wasted enough.

Hunched over his desk, Tim squints against the dim light of his lamp scattering across the stacks of files and books and blueprints littered across it. He had been nursing a migraine all day—all week, really—and had no real choice at this point but to get used to it, carry on, shove it all down. Since no one had bothered to tell him that the Circus was what they were after, he has a lot of catching up to do, research that Martin should have known he himself would not be capable of.

Added to the fact of his most recent attempt to escape this hellhole making him sick and weak. Again. So here he was, drinking in the sustenance of whatever godforsaken thing that keeps him here, hour after hour making him stronger. All because he let his anger rule again. Ran away.

Just keep on running then, Tim.

Coward.

Christ. One fight with Danny, and it still stings.

Because it’s true.

You left him you left him you left him there with that thing—

Blood—torch—stage—lights—clown—Danny Danny Danny Danny—

Stop stop stop

Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he can’t help the small noise that escapes him—though he does not hear it over the fading static in his own ears.

Stop thinking stop thinking stop thinking

Breathe in; breathe out. One moment to the next. What his therapist taught him after…after. After nothing. There’s nothing, there never was, there’s only now. There’s only the Circus. There’s only his migraine, pounding pounding pounding against his skull, the fury, the bitterness, the knowledge that he’s caught in a trap he’ll never crawl out of—

THUD.

Easily startled these days, Tim jumps bodily at the sound, snapping his head around toward its source. He had not thought anyone would still be here at this hour, as he’d seen Martin go home hours ago for some desperately-needed sleep, and the others had gone out to the pub that night. They couldn’t be here, could they? Surely the archive has protections against those creatures since…

Since nothing.

Nothing happened.

Nothing is happening.

The crash had come from Jon’s office, he’s sure of that. It reminds him of other days; other times when that sound would send him fetching a sports drink from the break room, checking to make sure Jon hadn’t hit his head on anything whenever his POTS flared badly. When they had been friends; brothers, even. Near enough to it anyway.

No, nothing else could have made that sound. Jon was back.

Standing on his own somewhat-shaky legs, Tim gives himself a moment for his vision to clear before striding toward the darkened office door, fury already rising in him at the idea that he was being watched again, distrusted again, betrayed again. He swings the door open.

“Finally decided to show u—oh god.”

Lying on his back on the floor is Jon, beard fuller than he’s ever seen it, painfully thin and grey as a ghost. His clothes hang off him as if three sizes too large, the ones Tim knew had once fitted him snugly, not even a few months prior. What in god’s name had happened to him that he was this emaciated? This ashen?

What had he done this time?

Anger bubbles even stronger now, tingling at the back of his spine.

But something…something feels off about this. Enough for him to bury the resentment, if only for a moment. Just to make sure.

Why do you care?

Stop thinking stop thinking stop thinking

“Jon,” Tim says loudly, crouching down beside him, shaking his shoulder in the process. “Hey, up and at ‘em.”

But there’s nothing—not the usual small gasp as he comes around from the faints caused by POTS, no twitching, only stillness. Tim’s stomach does a turn as he checks Jon’s head for bleeding, any sign of injury, but nothing. Nothing at all.

What the hell happened?

Glancing around him for anything to do, he spots a file box within arms reach that he drags over towards them, propping Jon’s feet upon it. He rolls up his sleeve a bit then, to feel his pulse—and finds himself distracted by the bone-dry nature of  his skin beneath his fingers; the slight shuddering of his limbs. But his face has almost a sheen to it, unnatural, unnerving.

“Jon,” Tim repeats, a bit louder, patting at his exposed bit of arm. “Come on, you’re alright.”

A bit of a moan this time, a deeper breath—and Tim lets out a breath of his own, one he had not realized he had been holding.

“Mmm.”

“Wake up, Jon,” he says loudly, shaking his shoulder for a second time.

At this, Jon’s entire frame tenses under his hand, eyes flying wide open to scan feverishly around the room.

“Woah, easy,” Tim barks, a bit alarmed. “Easy. Just stay down.”

It seems that Jon had either not heard him, or had chosen to ignore—as he sits up rather abruptly against Tim’s hand on his shoulder, this time locking eyes with him. But before Tim can recover from his surprise enough to speak, Jon’s eyelids begin to flutter again. He’s about to go down.

“Lie down, Jon. Lie back down.”

He’s sure Jon didn’t have much of a choice anyway, but Tim finds himself glad that he happened to be there to prevent him smacking his head against the industrial carpeting all the same. Something is wrong wrong wrong, and it sends away all his rage for the time being—and he is filled with that instinct to protect Jon, from himself or from something else. He cannot even bring himself to care which at the moment.

“Wh—Tim,” Jon slurs with effort, some recognition in his expression at last.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

With a pang in his chest, Tim realizes he does not know whether or not that will bring him comfort.

“I’m gonna get you some water, alright?”

No reply—merely a distant look in his eyes as he brings a hand up to press against his own cheek, shaking with the effort of it. Bad, this is bad. He’s never this out of it when he comes back around; not even after they had woken up quarantined together in the hospital, dozens of deep wounds covering both of them in the wake of the Prentiss attack.

Focus. Water, food, then questions.

“Just—just stay there, for god’s sake.”

Wobbling a bit against the disorientation of his migraine, Tim brushes a hand all along the walls to the break room, crossing his fingers that Jon (or perhaps Martin) had restocked Jon’s Lucozade supply. As luck would have it, there are a few left over from whenever Jon had last shown up to work in the archives. Tim had not taken care to keep track.

He doesn’t deserve it.

Not anymore.

Stop; he has to stop—more thinking like that, and he knows he will leave Jon stranded on the floor of his office, only to be found by a newly-infuriated Martin in the morning. And in what condition…Tim could not say. Where had he been all this time? And why did he look so awful?

He grabs a cereal bar from the counter top on the way out of the room.

When he returns to Jon’s office, his stomach drops at the empty space on the floor where Jon had been—until he spots him, sitting with his back pressed up against the back wall of the room, between the bookshelf and the filing cabinet.

“Thought I told you to stay put,” Tim mutters irritably. Though he has to admit, he feels something tight unraveling a bit in his chest at seeing him able to sit up. No matter how ill he looks.

“Tim,” he says in a voice of gravel and salt, as if to reassure himself of its truth.

“Yeah, bad luck.”

Tim takes the cue of the fearful look in Jon’s eyes as he stares up at him, and sits at a bit of a distance on the floor within his eyeline.

“Drink this,” he orders, opening the cap of the Lucozade before holding it out toward him. “Slowly. You look like shit.”

He had been hoping that Jon would simply roll his eyes and respond with a sardonic “thank you,” but…nothing. Instead, he can barely keep hold of the bottle, watching it shaking in his own hand before tentatively bringing it up to his lips. Just a sip—and it’s enough to rattle something in him, seeming to bring him around to the present a bit. He downs the next sips with more confidence, less hesitance. With a great deal of satisfaction, Tim starts unwrapping the cereal bar, ready to hand it to him whenever he was ready.

“M’sorry for this,” he murmurs after a few minutes have passed in silence, no longer meeting Tim’s eyes.

“What the hell happened, Jon?” Tim asks in desperation, needing to know where to put his anger. Shutting down the part of himself that hoped could be placed on Jon again.

Silence greets him. No indication that Jon had even heard him.

Until the shaking begins.

The bottle drops to the floor as shuddering overwhelms his grip—and both hands fly into his hair, clutching hard at it, pressing balled fists into the sides of his newly-ashen face. As his breath picks up speed, so does Tim’s heart, and he wants so badly to reach for him. More than anything, he wants his touch to be the comfort it once had been, anything to stop this from happening. But he had burned that bridge ages ago now.

So did he, he reminds himself. So did he.

“What happened?” he repeats, a little softer all the same.

“Nothing,” Jon whispers, offering just the faintest hint of a smile, a flash, before it fades. “Nothing ha—happened.”

A knife.

A knife in Tim’s chest.

Stop thinking stop thinking stop thinking

“Where have you been, then?”

Even as he keeps his voice low, the shuddering picks up speed and intensity, taking Jon’s breath up to something approaching hyperventilation.

“It’s f-fine,” he stammers between gasps. “Fine, don’—ha—don’t.”

“Whatever this is, it’s not fine.”

A small bit of laughter, then—choked, cut off by his own desperation for air. He tips his head back against the wall behind him, drawing his legs up even tighter as he tries to find his breath.

“The—Cir—ha—Circus.”

Tim’s body is flooded with ice; pins and needles pricking at his scalp, the tips of his fingers.

“Breathe, Jon,” he murmurs through his own lightheadedness, has to push through. “What do you mean, the Circus?”

“Got—got me,” comes the awful reply. The one he had been dreading.

What had they done to him?

How long was he there?

Why was he allowed to escape, and not Danny?

Shut it down shut it down shut it down

Be here. Be now.

“Breathe, Jon.” A little closer, still not touching. Wouldn’t dare. “Just breathe, alright?”

“S’fine.” Another laugh, a small, panicked smile. It makes Tim sick.

“No—ha—nothing. Ha-happened.”

You’re lying you’re lying you’re lying

Danny’s gone, and you’re here, and you’re lying.

“Ah—ha—Tim.”

Even so, something in Jon’s voice, his panic, his absolute terror over whatever is happening in his head right now breaks through the bubbling wall of fury rising around Tim’s heart. It may be back tomorrow, or the next hour, or the next minute. But Jon needs him.

Jon needs him, and that’s enough for now.

“Breathe, Jon,” he murmurs softly, moving slowly to take his hand in both of his own. Not even a flinch from him—just squeezing tight enough to bruise, tight enough to anchor himself here, tight enough to remind Tim of better days, better times. Times when this would never have been a burden. When his presence would be enough of a comfort to bring him back down.

“You’re safe. You’re safe now, and I’m here.”

For the moment, it’s the truth. Tim will take this moment and bury it later, deep deep deep, where the other memories of their friendship now live. Easy to forget; easy to look past in anger.

But, for now.

“Breathe, Jon. I’m here. I’m right here.”

[angrylizardjacket]

i’ll be in the front row {Joe Mazzello}

Anon asked: lil prompt I thought of while doing my laundry: imagine meeting Joe while you’re both doing your laundry at a laundromat. it’s nyc, so apartments with full wash & dryer are hard to come by. joe is always running lines with himself, and you both sometimes loan each other quarters when one of you runs out.

Anon asked: tbh I don’t have anything specific to request, but I am begging you to please write more for Joe. srsly you write him so well & he deserves more content!!! 🐚 

A/N: 3269 words. my little garbage brain had to yell at me not to write this like the laundry scene from Dr Horrible. BIG FLUFF. set around undrafted. hope you enjoy. PLEASE leave feedback!! i love this so so very much omfg.

----

You always see him on Sundays, eleven in the morning, like clockwork. Dark sunglasses, fancy backpack, but nondescript clothes; sweater and jeans, baseball jersey and jeans, laundry day clothes if you’ve ever seen them. He’s a little familiar, but you’re not sure why. Sometimes he’s wearing a cap, but not with any sort of consistency, at least not in the six months since you’d been coming there. 

For the record, you’re not staring, he’s the only person who comes in at the exact same time as you, give or take fifteen minutes, and he, like you, always waits for his laundry. It’s only been in the past few months that you’d even started recognizing each other, smiling and giving the other a wave across the machines. It’s harmless, it’s people watching, it’s routine.

One morning, he’s sitting on his washing machine, with a pen in his mouth and a stack of papers in one hand. His usual sunglasses are propped up on his head, which isn’t an unusual occurrence when he reads - is it weird that you know that? Kind of. He’s highlighting something, mouthing whatever he’s reading too fast for you to catch, and anyways, you’re trying not to stare. You’re half paying attention to a kitschy game on your phone since your washing is almost done, and you heave your damp clothes into the dryer.

“Damnit,” patting your pockets again, and searching through your change, you can’t help but scowl and come to an annoying conclusion. All you have is a fifty, and the change machine in the laundromat only spits out quarters.

“You okay?” It’s the guy with the script, your quiet laundry buddy, looking at you with slight concern, pen still in his mouth.

“Yeah,” you huff a sigh, putting on a strained smile, “two quarters short for the dryer.” Usually you had smaller bills, or just remembered to bring the right change, “can you watch my stuff while I go to the gas station to get change?”

“I can cover two quarters,” he offers easily with a slight smile, pulling the pen from his mouth and putting it, the highlighter, and the stack of papers, onto the dryer after he jumps from it. You stumble through trying to brush him off and refuse graciously, but he’s already elbow-deep in his backpack, telling you it’s no trouble.

“I owe you,” you say with half a laugh, and he shares in your amusement.

“Yeah, I’ll hold you to that,” he replies with an amiable sarcasm, which has you laughing. After you start the dryer, however, you turn back and he’s regarding you with a frown, leaning on the washing machine with his stuff in it.

“Do I have something on my face?” You ask with surprising uncertainty, and he’s quick to clear the frown from his face as he shakes his head.

“No, it’s just kind of weird that we’ve been coming here for so long but never... like, spoken.” He muses, and you feel yourself growing surprised. He offers his hand. “Joe.”

“Y/N,” you say, shaking his hand firmly, and he quietly repeats your name back to himself, like he’s committing it to memory. Something warms in your chest, and you can’t help but look at the stack of papers he’d been focusing intently on, “may I ask what you’re working on?” And he looks confused for the barest moment, quickly followed by excitement, and then what you recognize as him very deliberately restraining that excitement into something more polite.

“It’s a script,” and he kind of sounds... apologetic?

“And...?” You prompt, before backpeddling, “I mean, if you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine, I mean we technically just met -” and he’s waiving you off goodnaturedly.

“No, I know, I know,” he assures, “I just... another white guy writing a script in New York?” He makes a face, “get a real personality, am I right?” He laughs self-deprecatingly, but it seems to hit a little too close to home for him, and his expression falls. It’s a sentiment he’s been on the receiving end of far too many times.

“What’s it about?” You ask, gentle and genuinely curious, and his eyebrows raise in surprise as he meets your gaze. Tentatively hopeful, he explains that he’s on the fourth draft of it, that it’s loosely based on his brother’s experiences trying to make it into the Major Leagues in baseball. Most of it goes over your head, but you can’t help but be intrigued. 

“I’m not super big into baseball,” you admit as he’s winding down, “but it sounds awesome, dude; let me know when it’s in theaters and I’ll be in the front row.” He grins at that.

You exchange phone numbers a month later, the pair of you getting take out at the fast food joint across the road from the laundromat, so you could still at least keep somewhat of an eye on your clothes. He’s in between drafts of the script, and they’re actually in preproduction, and you realise oh, he’s actually serious about this.

“See, that’s the difference,” you tell him, leaning your elbows on the table and pointing a finger at him, “the difference is that you follow through.”

“What?” He laughs, not yet following your train of thought.

“Every other white guy in New York could write a script, but none of them would follow through and get it made; you’re ambitious, Joe.”

“I’m not ambitious, I’m just lucky,” he shrugs, a blush creeping up his cheeks, but you won’t let it slide.

“Luck will only get you so far,” you tut, and he gives you a strange look.

“Have you... never seen Jurassic Park?”

“When I was younger,” you shrugged.

“Or The Social Network?”

“I’ve really been meaning to, why?” 

“No reason,” Joe shakes his head with a disbelieving grin, and doesn’t bring it up again.

A few weeks later, he’s late by almost a full half an hour, which you’re not particularly bothered by, you get the impression that he’s a busy guy, but he runs in, laundry basket in hand, apologizing breathlessly. 

“No need to apologise,” you tell him with a bright smile, putting your phone away, “everything okay?”

“Budget meeting ran late,” he explains, gracelessly lumping his clothes into the washing machine and throwing a few tide pods in along with them, “filming’s so close, I just lost track of time.”

“Oh, shit really? Wait have you already cast it?” You asked with a surprisingly genuine excitement; over the weeks, you’ve become rather invested in this project.

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you?” He asked with a grin, “casting was finalized two weeks ago; we start rehearsals next Saturday.”

“That’s so exciting!” You enthused, before laughing, “anyone I’d recognize?” And it’s mostly a joke, but Joe gives pause, evaluating you before he pushes start on his washing machine.

“I don’t know,” he answers genuinely, before conceding, “I mean, apart from me -”

“Acting, writing, and directing; does that make you a triple threat?” You asked coyly, and he breaks out into grin.

“And producing,” he reminds, and you make an impressed noise, nodding.

“Quadruple threat, excuse me.”

“But honestly, I don’t know if you’d recognize them; do you know,” and he goes back to the topic at hand, frowning a little, “Aaron Tveit?” You’re a little speechless, before answering.

“Not personally,” you find yourself answering, which gets Joe to laugh, “shit, dude, from Broadway?” And Joe’s wearing a proud little smile when he nods in confirmation, “and the Les Mis movie?”

“The very same,” Joe agrees, and your mouth hangs agape, “I told you, this is a real movie, I’m not filming this in my backyard,” after a beat, he licks his lips and jumps to sit on the washing machine, “have you seriously never googled me?”

“Why would I?” You asked, and he huffs a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head again in that way that you don’t quite understand. “Should I?” You finally ask, and Joe shrugs, smiling bright and carefree. He’s even swinging his legs, ankles crossed.

“I’m not a murderer, if that’s what’s got you worried,” he muses with a surprisingly carefree grin, “I mean, I’m kind of glad that you haven’t, it means you actually like me for me, you know?”

“Of course I do,” you answer automatically, and Joe’s expression turns fond, “I really like you, dude,” you explain, “I’m kind of in awe of what you’re accomplishing.” And you mean it with your whole heart, “if you’d prefer I didn’t google you, I won’t; I don’t make a habit of googling my friends, I won’t start with you.” When you say this, something about him relaxes, and he hops off the washing machine.

“Wanna grab lunch?” He asks with a smile, which you mirror without hesitation, and agree.

They’re filming out of state, which Joe tells you the week before he leaves, and you hadn’t realised how much you would miss him until the first Sunday rolls around, and you’re sitting in the laundromat alone.

Your phone goes off with a notification at exactly eleven.

It’s a photo of Joe and Aaron Tveit in baseball jerseys, covered in dirt, grinning.

[HOLY SHIT] you send back, following it up with [IS THAT] and then you wait a moment before adding [QUADRUPLE THREAT JOE MAZZELLO??] 

[christ 😳😅🥰] he sends back, and something about his restrained but still obviously flustered response has your heart skip a beat. [is it weird that i miss the laundromat?]

[yes 😂]

[and you of course i miss you too] he’s quick to follow it up with, and your own smile grows wider. You take a photo of the empty laundromat and draw in a terrible stick figure impression of him and send it back.

[miss u too haha] and you give pause before sending [hey if u ever wanna send other prod photos.......] [u don’t just have to send them on sunday]

[you haven’t signed an NDA 😂]

[joseph who am i gonna tell??]

[your other friends idk]

[my lips are ZIPPED 🤐] [photos for personal use only]

[personal use????? 😘😘]

[dont be GROSS]

[but i wanna be gross!!]

So now you’re flustered in the middle of the laundromat, completely at a loss as to how to respond to that. 

[are u flirting with me joseph?] you send back, and you watch the three little typing dots as they hover for a very long time.

[only if you’re into it]

Oh. 

[the FIRST WEEK YOU’RE AWAY FROM THE LAUNDROMAT AND YOU’RE PULLING THIS SHIT] [i AM into it but fuck 😳😅]

[I’VE BEEN FLIRTING WITH YOU FOR WEEKS]

Oh!

[OH]

[THE FIRST WEEK I’M AWAY FROM THE LAUNDROMAT AND YOU FINALLY PICK UP ON IT???]

[go direct ur baseball movie 🥰😅] you send, and tuck your phone away, feeling rather like a fool, but a pleased fool nonetheless, and you’re grinning for the rest of the day.

Photos are exchanged often after that, usually selfies, or photos of where either of you were, what you were doing, the flirting turning absolutely less subtle with each day that passes until you’re just complimenting each other, and mentioning occasionally how you miss the other.

When he sends a photo of himself posing against the fence of the dugout in a way that showed off his ass, you can’t help but make it your lock screen, though it’s quickly followed by a video and a text that reads [i was told i have to send you this too,,, for context].

“This feels undignified,” says a strangely familiar voice from off-screen, presumably filming, while Joe was trying to ask for opinions on how he should pose.

“This is undignified,” comes someone else’s response, and the camera swings around to reveal an amused Tyler Hoechlin, opening a water bottle, “this Y/N must be real cute.” In the background, a few others, vaguely recognizable, all in baseball uniforms, snicker.

“They are!” Joe answered defiantly, grinning, one leg up against the wire, looking over his shoulder, “are you filming me?” The camera flips around and you get a pretty glorious angle directly up Aaron Tveit’s nose.

“No -”

The video stops abruptly, and you’re all but wheezing with laughter, though all you send back is;

[so worth it] [ur ass *chef’s kiss*]

[THANK YOU] [you get it] [knew there was a reason i liked you so much]

The moment he gets back to New York, he asks you out to dinner. Of course you say yes.

For your third date, he offers to cook you dinner, and watch a movie, prefaced with a question that you’re surprised he still asks; have you really not googled me? And the honest answer you always give: no.

His apartment has a lot of movie posters, of movies you’ve heard of but never seen, or seen when you were very little.

“Big movie buff, obviously,” you note with a little smile, and he raises his eyebrows in amusement at your observation. Even moreso when you excitedly coo about how you haven’t seen Jurassic Park in so long when he suggests it.

“Your self restraint is godlike, babe,” he snickers, and you’re not quite sure what he means, you’re kind of just happy to be here. 

He cooks dinner, and you both sit down in front of his alarmingly big TV, and you feel a warm rush of nostalgia at the opening. You’re eating quietly, watching with rapt attention, but you can feel Joe watching you expectantly. 

“What’s up?” You ask, turning to him, confused, and his smile grows a little wider, and his gaze flicks to the screen for a moment, and then back to you.

“Just waiting for it to click.”

“For what to click?” 

“Babe,” and he says it like he can’t quiet believe it, his gaze now focused on the screen where the kids, Tim and Lex, were being introduced, “that’s me.” And follow his gaze and holy shit. A lot of things start making a lot more sense.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting your reaction to be, but the way your face lights up, and the unbridled enthusiasm and compliments that pour out of you, was not it, but he’s definitely not complaining. 

“Wait!” Your eyes sparkle as you look around his apartment, the movie posters he had everywhere now having a completely different meaning, “all these...?”

“Every single one,” he agrees, a little abashed, suddenly humble, and you grin when you finally look back at him.

“I didn’t think I could be more awed by you, but dude,” you enthused, “that’s cool as hell! You’re cool as hell!” But you take a deep breath, putting your plates onto the coffee table, sitting as close to him as you could, “but I would have thought the world on you even if you hadn’t done any of this,” and he tries to brush it off, but you’re adamant, “no, I mean it, I like you for you, Joe, not for what you’ve done, but... for who you are.”

“You’re gonna make me blush,” he shoots for serious, but misses entirely thanks to his pleased little smile.

“Good,” you tell him seriously, and kiss both of his pink cheeks before kissing him. Your dinner might get a little cold after that, but you can always reheat it. 

You comfort him over the weeks it takes to edit him film, Undrafted, though he’ll never let you see too much of the final product; he wants you to see it in cinemas first.

It’s still kind of surreal to you that Joe Mazzello is both a movie star, and your boyfriend. He’s still friends with Laura Dern, and he also spends eight dollars a week at a laundromat to wash his clothes. Bizarre. But you kind of like how down-to-earth he is. 

What’s more bizarre is when he invites you to the red carpet premiere of his movie.

“Me?” You squeaked, and he seemed a little confused at your hesitation, his hands on your shoulders.

“You,” he nodded slowly, not understanding why you’re suddenly nervous.

“For real?”

“Yeah, of course I want you there; you said so yourself, you’d be in the front row, right?” He smiled a little and you could feel your heart melt.

“You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you gently, “it’s one of the reasons I liked you in the first place.” He’s so earnest; you agree easily.

The red carpet is a whole other world, you find, dressed to the nines, styled by someone you don’t know, cameras flashing in your face -

“Is this Y/N?” Tyler Hoechlin is saying your name. What universe is this? Joe was blushing furiously with his arm around you as the cast made their way over.

“Finally, a face for a name,” and that’s Aaron Tveit; you have to remind yourself not to get star struck. Instead, you smile and offer your hand to them both, which they shake, smiling and greeting you warmly. 

“Don’t embarrass me, you assholes,” Joe warned, though his tone was amused, and the others chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mister Director,” Aaron assured.

“You’re good at doing that on your own,” Tyler added, and Joe gave him the finger, but held you a little tighter. 

“Did he send you the video of when he asked me to take that photo? You know the one,” Aaron asked, and you straightened your posture, grinning brightly.

“With an ass like his, I don’t know why you’d think it’s undignified,” you said loftily, and there was a beat as everyone took in what you said.

“I fucking love you,” Joe half laughed, pulling you in for a kiss.

“You’re good,” Tyler snorted, shaking his head with a grin, and Aaron was just straight-up laughing. The rest of the cast took to you easily, though most of the in-jokes among them went over your head, by Joe’s side, you never really felt left out. 

The theater itself was cool and dark, but you could feel the whole cast and crew thrumming with excitement and nervous energy, and Joe gave your hand a squeeze where your fingers were interlaced. 

It’s clear he’d poured his heart and soul into the movie, his fingerprints were all over every aspect of it, and you couldn’t quite believe you were watching it all finally completed; it had been almost a year since you’d first asked him about it, and now, here you were, hand in hand with him at the premiere. 

As the credits rolled, as the crowd clapped, and you along with them, you found yourself speechless. Joe, quiet and surprisingly nervous, turns to you.

“What’d you think?” His voice is quiet, uncertain, and you all but tackle him across the armrest, kissing him until you’re both breathless.

“I’m so proud of you,” you gasp against his lips, “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” his voice is gentle as he takes your face in his hands, but you shake your head.

“You could have, babe, you absolutely could have, you’ve got so much ambition and talent -”

“I didn’t want to do it without you,” he admits in a rush, and you freeze, eyes on his, “I mean it.” And you’re kissing him again, hoping he can feel the pride and love that’s flowing through you. There’s an afterparty to get to, drinks with the cast and crew, and a comfortable bed waiting after that, you know, but you can’t help but bask in this one moment together, just a little longer.

[richietoaster]

Review/Reaction of IT Chapter Two

Let’s just start right off the bat and let me just say that Bill Hader better get a fucking award for his performance.

Alright. Here we go y’all. im trying to stay in order with what happened but so much happened in the movie that my brain is just all over the place so excuse me while i try to form words

UNDER THE CUT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS

• first opening scene is a fucking LOT okay like i sobbed my eyes out and it was just not cool. adrian and his boyfriend? CUTE AF. Him getting brutally beat up and then killed by Pennywise while Don just watches? NOT CUTE AF

• Mike is a precious boy and I love him so. He cares about his friends so much holy shit. they all get mad at him for lying to them tho.But he only did it to protect them. Mike knew some SHIT(tm) our boy is so smart?? I’m glad they kept to his original storyline

• Older Bill gave himself so much shit this film and i just felt so bad. like we know it isnt ur fault okay?? We know you loved your brother, stop putting yourself down. also?? him becoming protective over dean? please stop my aching heart. 

• Jessica Chastain owns my whole heart and she can kick my ass anyday. She plays Bev so well and captures young bev’s personality so well. her scene with mrs kersh was very weird. i knew the second she ran naked in the hall i’d be seeing some weird fucking shit okay 

• Jay Ryan could kick me and I would personally thank him like?? wow what a man. He immediately recognizes bev when he first sees her and im just?? im happy. so many hidden new kids on the block reference and it had me fucking rolling in my grave

• JAMES FUCKING RANSONE MY DUDE OH LORD okay listen. he gives off young eddie’s panic and chaotic energy so perfectly i felt like i was watching him as an adult, who just never grew up. I think thats what he was going for honestly. He played eddie SO FUCKING WELL 

• I’m so sad about stan. THats all you need to know okay. I’ll talk about his letter later on in this. Stan deserved better. that’s all. 

• if you are not a fan of vomit you’re not gonna enjoy richie tozier. literally any time something bad happens hes just like ah shit here we go again *vomits* and honestly? that made me laugh. like hes just like oh shit something is happening let.. let me just.. no no its fine guys ill catch up.. EHBWFIJHDFSIJ no okay but bill hader stole the fucking show. his acting was phenomenal and,, again,, i’ll add more onto that later. 

• richie scares the shit out of dean. because he thinks hes pennywise. but can you blame him? the kid just. stared at him all creepy and shit. but its so funny. the losers make fun of him bc he doesnt know his own lines from his acts and richies just like “I dont write my own material” and eddies just like “I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW IT” dead. goodbye.

• Young losers were still my favorite part honestly. Eddie kept bouncing that stupid ball in stan’s face in the clubhouse and i was waiting for him to get punched in the face tbh. That didn’t even seem like eddie, that was Jack’s energy bursting through the seams lmfao

• young eddie runs into a fucking box and shrieks and if that isn’t me idk ewhdfiajksjdoi 

• THE FUCKING. HAMMOCK. SCENE. okay listen to me. thats gay. hammocks are now gay. gays only. gay interacts only. the bickering between reddie had me in TEARS. eddie kept kicking at his face and just?? casually??? lays on him when richie wont move?? 

• stan’s fucking shower cap ehfdiujasdiosa and then richie being like “nobodys afraid of spiders stanley okay” and eddie slowly removes his because he cares what richie thinks more than spiders ok

• a flashback from after they defeated IT in the first move with reddie “eddie youve been gone for 24 hours your face is most likely on a milk carton by now” “shut up richie” 

• yong Richie has me weak af this whole movie, like always. just getting on Eddie’s case. HE PINES SO HARD OH Y GOD Like wow my sweet boy is so fucking in love ouch. which?? BRINGS ME TO MY NEXT POINT??

• THE ARCADE SCENE?? he checks out the kid standing next to him and tries to get him to hang out more and then the other kid tells him to stop being weird because he’s not gay, too, and then uses the F slur. richie was just so hurt. paul bunyun scene happens after that and hes just like “I just shit my pants” and i cried. 

• pennywise screaming “lets play truth or dare, you wouldnt pick truth! you dont want them to know your secret” gave off the same energy as eddie’s leper blowjob scene from the book. same energy. do with that as you will. 

• they had some flashbacks that included pennywise and im not sure if this was before or after they had defeated IT in the first movie but i interpreted it as after and if thats the case... hes supposed to be dead. but now thinking back on it, it was probably just more scenes before they put pennywise to rest for 27 years. 

• young richie went to the kissing bridge after that and we ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THERE. fucking.. r + e :((( although we don’t see him carving the E. but reddie is canon so suck toes antis

• stephen king pretty much being like “I know u and ur endings really do suck” to bill when he comes to buy his bike was so fucking funny. it almost felt like a self insert lmfao. ALSO HIM MAKING BILL PAY 300 BUCKS FOR THE BIKE BC HE KNEW HE COULD AFFORD IT? iconic. 

• richie and eddie opening the door to the dog had me laughing. pennywise was just mocking them at that point. they’d be such good dog dads and now im sad

• i was really confused because they added part of stan’s bar mitzvah?? like it wasn’t even the same from the first movie. like they should’ve just put the deleted scene in from ch. 1 and then added that part. thats one of my very few complaints. im slowly hiding them in here. 

• henry bowers was kinda irrelevant in this honestly but thank you eddie for stabbing him and richie for killing him for trying to kill mike yall heroes 

• BEVS BLOOD SCENE ?? CORRESPONDING WITH BENS BURIED ALIVE SCENE? poetic cinema. 10/10

• the big fight really disappointed me in all honesty. but i think thats because andy said he cut so much from there. i expect it to be better with the director’s cut

• eddie saving richie and then immediately being stabbed by pennywise’s claw? IM DEPRESSED.

• “Rich! rich, i did it! i think i killed him!” Our boy was so happy with himself :( 

• eddie’s last words WERE NOT “i fucked your mom”. he was talking to richie and you can hear them talking while the rest are preparing to end pennywise. so im hoping we get that as a deleted scene. 

• richie goes back to help finish pennywise but when he goes to check on eddie.. he’s dead. ://// and bev is like “richie, come on, honey.. im sorry” and richie does not want to believe him. he grabs and hugs eddie so tight i swear i could feel that hug from the audience. 

• another thing im disappointed in and am sliding in is some of the animations? Like. fucking weird. but okay. luckily i didn’t care too much.  

• THE SOB that richie lets out when he holds eddie really hurt my fucking soul jesus christ just kill me

• the losers try cheering him up after and like. thats their friend too but you can just totally tell he’s crying in a different type of grief. THAT WAS HIS FIRST FUCKING LOVE. 

• they all remember after and thats really important to me okay

• stan writes letters and its spoken outloud while the other losers get little montages of what theyre doing with their life after the battle. Richie goes back to the kissing bridge and recarves- YES RECARVES AND YOU CAN CLEARLY SEE THE E BEFORE HE DOES- he recarves the E and while doing it, stan’s voice says “be proud of who you are” and im fucking cry ibg okay

• in the end, i give this movie a 7/10 rating. although some of the animations were weird and some of the flashbacks had pennywise in it (like hes supposed to be currently dead but ok... maybe nightmares??) the actors were PHENOMENAL and the chemistry between older richie and older eddie made me so happy. my ship is canon. but im still sad about stan and eddies death. 

• ignoring canon in 3.. 2.. 1.. now 

[modreduscycle]

Uther and Merlin Pt. 8

Aka The Final Battle or JESUS CHRIST, UTHER!

The secondary title there is really not a joke. Uther + Vortigern = Nothing good. Warning for violence, death, and a bit of torture.

“Come out and fight, Vortigern!” Aurelius yelled, Merlin using magic to amplify his voice so it echoed up to the castle towers. “Face the consequences of your actions! Face your own karma as if you actually had honor!”

Damn, if Merlin didn’t know better, he would’ve thought Aurelius had actually gotten more than four hours of sleep last night with a speech like that.

Beside him, Uther bounced on his heels impatiently, clad entirely in armor. Merlin just stared in fear and wonder at the grand city of Camelot. Vortigern presumably hadn’t taken good care of it, for the stories of grandeur Aurelius and Uther had told him were vastly different than the run down, spike-laden walls he saw now, but the majesty was still there. With a little work, it wouldn’t take much to restore it to its former glory. That is, if they survived the day. It had taken so long to get to this point, so many deaths, but now, the final battle was at their feet.

The response to Aurelius’s challenge was a barrage of arrows, which Merlin had to guard against as the army rushed forward, with battering rams and weapons and fury. Even though he knew it was all in his head, the stench of fresh blood already filled his nostrils, making him gag.

A hand grabbed his and started to pull him toward the fighting. He looked up with wide, scared eyes into excited blue ones. “Come on! It’s finally time!” The expression on Uther’s face was almost manic, to the point where Merlin felt a little relief when he turned around to see where he was running to. That feeling managed to scare him more than the battle, if he was being honest.

It didn’t take long to break down the gates. Vortigern’s forces were scattered across the land, dealing with peasant revolts as the common folk realized that the time had come where they didn’t have to deal with his shit anymore. The ones that were here had been consolidated inside the city rather than meeting Aurelius’s forces on a proper battlefield, thus putting the populous at risk. Aurelius had given the order that no civilians were to be harmed, but in the heat of battle, such an order could be hard to follow, or ignored by some completely. Merlin trusted that Ulfius would obey, and he hoped Uther would as well, but honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure. Uther could get a little ruthless in combat.

Case in point, Merlin thought as a splatter of blood coated his front as Uther decapitated an enemy soldier. The manic laughing of the prince rang out across the screams and anguished final yells as soldiers fell to the ground, dead seconds after their bodies hit the dirt. The dust that was kicked up in the chaos seemed to have a slight red hue to it and so many awful smells surrounded the fighting. Rank sweat, metallic blood, grainy dust swirled around the air, stabbing into his nostrils, pooling into his lungs, even worse than how he had imagined it.

Uther just kept pulling him along and if it wasn’t for the warmth of his blood-soaked hand, Merlin would’ve broken down, covering his ears, right then and there to drown out all the commotion, all the death, all the destruction.

Anytime a blade lashed out at them, Merlin shielded them from the attack while Uther retaliated. They ran up to the castle, doors shut tight. Uther slammed at it with a closed fist, then turned to Merlin, eyes cold and deadly. “Destroy it.”

For once, Merlin had no objection to this request. Lightning crackling at his fingertips, he held out both hands and let the power flow through him, blasting down the door and sending it rocketing inside. The heavy wood mowed down many guards stationed inside, and the rest were quickly taken care of by Uther. His viciousness, his blade slicing through the enemy, all of it seemed more ruthless, more angry than usual. He was so close, so close to having Vortigern on his knees before him, one of his greatest desires. Merlin knew all of this, but the sight of Uther no longer smiling, his face hardened into something primal, hateful, scared him infinitely more than when the prince had been maniacally laughing while cutting down his enemies.

Uther stormed over and grabbed Merlin’s hand. “Come on, I know where he’d be.” Without waiting, he pulled the wizard behind him, climbing stairs and taking advantage of Merlin’s shields to kill without fear any soldiers that got in their way. Merlin wanted to tell Uther to stop, to let him use some magic to incapacitate rather than decapitate, but something stopped him. He could feel his hands shaking and tried to tell himself he was only afraid of the battle, not his friend. Uther wouldn’t hurt him, Uther would never hurt him. But it didn’t stop the fear from creeping into his veins. He blasted down a door at the top of the staircase when Uther ordered him to, despite wanting his friend to wait and think for a second.

Merlin’s first impression of Vortigern was… anticlimactic. He wasn’t big, muscled, or brawny. He was actually quite thin, as if he hadn’t been eating well. He had bright blond hair, stringy and slightly graying. He didn’t look like a personification of evil, but when he turned to face them, his eyes told a different story. Merlin saw spite, cruelty, cowardice, and everything in him said that this man was a lowdown rat. He smiled when he saw Uther, actually smiled, a crescent-moon shaped lecherous grin, that froze the prince in place. “Is that little Uther all grown up? You and your brother are hard to pin down. And who’s this? A servant? One of your vassals? A friend?”

His voice was surprisingly amicable, throwing Merlin off for a second, but he knew this was all a ruse. No one was this genuinely friendly when faced with the boy whose father they killed and paraded in front of his children. Uther gritted his teeth. “You’re going to die, you son of a bitch.”

Vortigern sighed and shook his head. “I really don’t think I will. Remember? I knew you growing up. I babysat you, and your brother. Aurelius? I suppose he might have it in him to kill me, unarmed and in cold blood, if he had to, but you?” Vortigern shook his head. “You were such a cute kid, running around, catching butterflies, falling into hysterics when you saw a dead bird. It took ages to calm you down and afterward, you insisted on a grand funeral for that little robin.”

He took a fearless step forward and Merlin saw something glinting up his sleeve, but knew Uther didn’t, the prince’s hateful gaze was focused on Vortigern’s face. “Uther, I know you’re a kind boy. You don’t know what hate really is, so I know you can’t, and won’t, kill—” He was cut off mid-word by Uther’s sword running through his chest, a little off from his heart or lungs. The dagger hidden up his sleeve clattered to the floor and Uther only showed a little surprise by its existence.

“Let me explain something to you.” Uther’s voice was cold as he shoved Vortigern to the floor. “You don’t know me. You knew what I was like, but you don’t know how much I want to make you suffer, and how little I give a shit about whether it is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ to end your pathetic existence. I know you can’t see the literal wagonload of corpses I created to get up here, but know they’re there, so believe me, I’m absolutely killing you, and I’m absolutely making it painful.”

Vortigern was gasping on the floor, holding the stab wound with one hand and shaking, staring up at Uther with wide eyes, shock and fear in them. Uther smiled, then stomped on his twitching hand with an armored boot. The crunch resounded throughout the room and made Merlin cover his ears just in time for Vortigern’s anguished scream to come bursting out of the man’s lungs. The smile on the prince’s face widened, and he proceeded to do the same thing with the other hand, only this time he dug in with his heel for a few seconds, grinding the bones.

“You killed my father. You murdered my mother. You have tried to kill my brother and me for basically our entire. Goddamned. Lives.” As Uther spoke, he callously and oh-so-casually stepped on Vortigern’s wrist, at one point standing on just that foot, then twirled his sword around in a circle. “You really think I give a single shit about your life, other than how painfully I can end it? Speaking of which, Merlin?” Uther glanced over his shoulder, taking the opportunity to stomp on the other wrist. “Got any suggestions?”

“W- what?” Merlin could hardly believe the man in front of him was the same one who had offered him a home, friends, a purpose only a couple years ago.

“Is it possible to boil someone’s blood in their veins? Rip their muscles apart slowly? Make them vomit up their own digestive tract? Anything along those lines,” Uther asked.

“U- Uther, your father wouldn’t want—” Merlin somehow knew that was the exact wrong thing for Vortigern to say even before Uther reacted. The blue eyes flashed with anger before Uther turned around and impaled his sword directly into Vortigern’s knee. The scream this time was even worse than the others, which only increased in pain and volume as Uther wiggled the blade around, dislodging the kneecap beyond repair.

Shaking with fear, but unable to take any more, Merlin whispered, “Uther.” The prince paid no attention, but simply focused his gaze on the other knee. The world spinning from his own fear, the noise, and all the smells, Merlin managed to find his voice. “Uther!”

“Did you remember something?” asked Uther, only sounding vaguely interested, but more annoyed by the interruption.

“Stop. Just stop. You’ve won, he’s suffered, let him die,” Merlin begged.

Uther rounded on him, hand still on his sword. “Did you forget the shit he’s done to you, too? He gave those psychopathic bastards who would make you into nothing more than a breeding cow more power and permission to do whatever the hell they wanted! Why the hell shouldn’t I take my glorious time making sure every second of the life he has left is agony?”

“It- Uther this is wrong!” Merlin had no idea how else to say it, how else to convince him. How on earth could Uther not understand this? “This is torture for the sake of torture! You’re not getting anything out of this! Let him die!”

“I’m getting a deep sense of euphoria from this,” Uther retorted.

“I- I- I…” The words left Merlin and he quickly found himself unable to speak. Uther turned his attention back to Vortigern and continued in the same vein as he had before. Magic tingled at his fingertips, and before he was even aware of what he had done, Merlin sent out a quick, but powerful shock. The lightning hit Vortigern’s body, unnoticed by Uther, and Vortigern’s scream stopped, his body going limp.

Uther took a step back and spat on the floor. “Weak son of a…” His hands shook and he stormed back over to the corpse, grabbing it angrily as he sheathed his sword. He dragged it over to the balcony and kicked open the doors. Merlin quickly put up a shield around him and followed as Uther threw the body over the railing, holding it by one arm. “Your false king is dead!” he yelled. Somehow, even without Merlin doing anything to amplify his voice, the cry rang out across the city. The sounds of fighting slowed and finally almost stopped entirely. A crowd soon started to gather, staring up at the dead, mutilated body hanging from the balcony. “He’s dead like the dog he is! Long live King Aurelius!”

“Long live King Aurelius!”

“Long live King Aurelius!”

The cry started among only their own soldiers, but soon the common townsfolk took up the cheer, and eventually even many of the enemy soldiers, some probably just in a desperate attempt to save their own hides. Merlin couldn’t see Aurelius from here, but knew he had to hear the oath of fealty ringing up to the heavens.

The war was over.

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Metamorphosis: Chapter 19. The Search.

HUZZAH!! The next chapter of Metamorphosis is HERE!!

Extra special thanks to @thefraserwitch for making sense of my nonsensical ramblings and @diversemediums for being my spectacular mama resource. I couldn’t do this without you guys, you’re the best and my saving grace.

You can find previous chapters here on my master list, or over here on AO3.

Mid November, 1743; Lallybroch.

“What are ye doin’, lass?”

Murtagh’s voice held more concern than consternation as he made his way towards me in the dim stable. I didn’t — couldn’t — look at him as I hoisted the saddle blanket onto the mare’s back, knowing that if I did, if I saw the fear he was trying to hide in his eyes, I would cry… or worse, lose my resolve.

“What does it look like?” I huffed as I turned my attention to the heavy saddle, “I’m coming with you.”

He was at my side before I managed to get it anywhere near the horse. A guttural Gaelic expletive left his lips and I forfeited the heavy tack to him, but made no move to surrender my position near the mare’s flank. I crossed my arms against chest, my gaze withering as he set down the saddle and turned to back me.

“Ye’ll no’ be riding with me,” he insisted with a dismissive shake of his head.

I knew better than to ask him why not, for there were a thousand and one reasons for me to stay behind while he forged ahead. I’d thought of each and every one, every horrible scenario playing out in my mind since he’d arrived with battered Ian in tow and still came to the same conclusion.

I was going to find my husband... with or without Murtagh’s approval.

My chest heaved as I stared him down. He met my gaze without so much as a twitch, but the crack and timbre of his voice betrayed his true feelings.

“Ye’ll stay here… where Jenny can tend to ye, where ye are safe,” his shoulders hunched with huge weight of the situation, his breathing labored as he tried to talk me down. “Wha’ happens to the bairns if ye fall, lass? ‘Tis a long way down and no guarantee of a bush or heather to land on.”

“I won’t fall.”

He snorted, “And if ye do?”

“I’ve fallen a good deal farther and they’re still here,” I grimly stated and shivered slightly, for the chilling nightmare I’d had while within the depths of the Thieves Hole had become a frequent visitor in the weeks since my imprisonment, each repetition more frightening than the last.

My comment tore down Murtagh’s mask of resolute strength and his hands shot out, gripping my upper arms as moisture sprang to his eyes, “I canna risk it, a nighean. Please… will ye no’ stay here?”

I shook my head, opening my mouth to protest, but he cut me off.

“I give you my word, Claire,” he vowed, desperate for me to stay behind. “I will find him and bring him back to you.”

“I don’t doubt it for a moment, but in what condition?” I spat, even as my voice cracked. “They flogged Jamie within an inch of his life the last time you broke him out of prison and I can’t imagine they’ll do anything less to him this time!”

The image of a hangman’s noose around my husband’s neck knocked the air from my lungs and I felt very much like I was going to be sick. My head spun as I lifted my hands to my face. A shudder ran through me in a desperate attempt rid myself of the sudden vision of Jamie swinging from the scaffold at Fort William. I felt my legs give way beneath me and my crippling fears swallowed me whole as the floodgates opened, a sob bursting forth from my lips unchecked.

Murtagh caught me just before I hit the ground, pulling me to him in an awkward embrace as my tears flowed freely. I’d been bolstered by Jenny’s strength and carried by my own stubborn determination, but the quiet darkness of the stable had been my undoing. I knew that, on their own, my tears would solve nothing… but I also knew that I wouldn’t solve anything if I didn’t allow myself to cry… here in the stillness, protected by the arms of the man my husband trusted above all others.

Working together, we could -- and would -- save Jamie.

We had to.

..

Two weeks later; Somewhere in the Highlands.

“Thank ye, Mistress,” the young boy nodded to me, going so far as to bend forward from the waist in a slight bow.

While I understood their appreciation, the almost reverence the village folk gave in the last few hamlets we’d traveled through was beginning to grow wearisome. I hadn’t even treated the lad’s wound yet and here he was acting as though I’d cured him of leprosy with a touch of my hand. Most of this was Murtaugh’s doing, I knew, and yet if it meant word spread more quickly or even made me more identifiable to Jamie, I would go along with the harmless charade.

Placebo pebbles, I’d mentally dubbed them when Murtagh explained his idea at the start of our journey. Highlanders were equal parts superstitious and religious and Murtaugh's plan was to capitalize on both. He told me of a folkloric woman, a sort of witch who was able to see the motivations of men and women alike, who could strike an evil-doer down with a single look. He thought he could use the structure of La Dame Blanche, as she was called, to create a Holy Mother-like figure who could see the future and give protection or healing with the aid of a stone. The rumors of a pregnant Sassenach wandering about the countryside telling fortunes and healing the sick using magic rocks was sure to make it to Jamie, wherever he was hiding. I only hoped he’d hear of us before they tried me for witchcraft a second time or even for heresy.

I offered the boy my best attempt at a smile, gesturing him to come closer as I placed the small pouch of stones into a more visible part of my work space.

“Does it hurt much?” I nodded to the bandage on his right hand.

“Och, nae,” he bluffed as he extended it to me. “Jus’ it gets in the way a wee bit, now an’ then.”

I carefully unwrapped it and noticed a little girl standing near a tree about fifty yards from us. She had her eyes trained on the boy, yet made no move to come any closer as I examined him. The two shared similar cheekbone structures, a smattering of freckles, and glittering brown eyes.   

“Your sister?” I inclined my head, trying to distract him as the last layer of his bandage slowly peeled away. He nodded bravely, but I caught the wince he tried to hide as he averted his gaze to where she stood.

“What’s her name?”

“Flora, Mistress.” His voice changed, rising in timbre as his discomfort grew and I began to examine what revealed to be a minor burn.

It had already begun to heal and was relatively clean, needing only minimal cleaning before my application of a basic salve and a fresh bandage, but I took my time with him. For once, there wasn’t a flock of people hovering about my skirts waiting to be treated, and I made the effort to do the extra things Murtagh had suggested.

Use just enough Gaidhlig to make them think ye have it.

Give them every reason to believe ye can do a great deal more than what yer doin’...  an’ tha’ the wee stones will do the rest o’ the healin’ for ye.

I kept my eyes on my work, but watched the boy out the corner of my eye as I began to slip in the phrases I’d been carefully taught, “And yours, a bhalaich?”

His head lifted in surprise to look at me, eyes wide with reverent awe and answered softly, “Michael.”

I nodded and reached for my medicine box, taking out the vial of salve I needed and a roll of fresh bandage. I set both down beside the small, leather pouch of stones before I looked at him again and found him unabashedly staring at me. My cheeks warmed, but I didn’t shirk from his gaze as I began to clean the wound.

Michael flinched as I cleared a bit of debris and dropped his eyes, staring the items table. I could see his mind working, but he didn’t speak. The cogs and wheels of his brain turned over each one until he came to the leather pouch. His mouth dropped open in excitement, then shut just as quickly as he tried to contain himself. He shifted from foot to foot uneasily and I knew this was the very result Murtagh had hoped for.

Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, here we go again.

“Would you like one, Michael?” I coaxed.

Murtagh would chuffed to know that I hadn’t needed to explain the purpose of the stones with this patient. The rumors had reached this village far ahead of us and done the work for me.

My patient’s brows drew together in concern, “I dinna have anything to give ye... and ye’ve already mended my arm. I canna ask for a wee stone besides.”

“Then a gift for your sister, perhaps?”

Michael’s smile threatened to stretch right off his face as he nodded, turning to beckon the child to his side. I caught the little girl’s nervous glance between her brother and I and smiled at her in encouragement. With a final look to Michael, she stepped out from behind the tree and ran to his side, burying her face in the back of his green coat.

“Hallo, a nighean,” I murmured and finished off applying the salve, wiping my hands on my apron.

The little girl’s arms wrapped around her brother’s waist and held on for dear life. He coaxed her in Gaelic, resulting in her peering around him, but not budging so much as an inch. Michael’s tone changed and she reluctantly let go, sidestepping to reveal a dirty blue dress and smudged face. My heart melted as she grabbed for her brother’s free hand, anchoring herself to him as she tried to decide if I was friend or foe.

I reached for the pouch and loosened the drawstring. Not looking at Flora as she studied me, I, in turn, examined its contents and made a great show of selecting which one I wanted to give her. I did have quite a few options thanks to a good deal of forethought, but it really made no matter which I chose, for they were all plain, benign, everyday rocks.

I eventually selected a small, white pebble that was near the top as I tried to focus on the task before me, but — as if the brother and sister’s presence called out in greeting to them — the lives within me stirred. They turned and prodded until I, in turn, had to move to appease them. I shifted uncomfortably on my hard, wooden seat and tried to nudge one, encouraging them to remove their heel from between my ribs.

Would they be brother and sister like these cherubs? Would I have a daughter and a son? One to favor me and the other Jamie?

A small, warm hand gently covered mine and I looked up in surprise to see Flora lean in towards me, a quiet lullaby tumbling from her lips. I couldn’t understand the words, but I didn’t need to. Her soft melody possessed an almost hypnotic charm, an intonation of the purest intent, a blessing from one child’s heart to another. The baby moved their foot and the both of them stilled, as if they could hear her song and were listening intently.

I held my breath as she finished, giving my hand a pat with her final, sustained note. My throat constricted as her wide, innocent eyes met mine and she gave me a shy smile. Tears burned at the back of my eyes as I gave her one in return, lifting my right hand to cup her face. I tucked a tangled strand of hair behind her ear and her smile grew, making her brown eyes dance.

“May our Heavenly Father keep you safe, my child.”

This time I truly meant the phrase Murtaugh had taught me, though I’d uttered them to nearly every patient I had treated, and my spirit echoed it, petitioning for the both of them to be safe and well in the name of our Lord.

Flora turned her face into my palm and kissed it, then moved my hand to rest where it had been on top of the curve of my abdomen. I opened my left hand and offered her the stone, adding my own hasty benediction, my brain scrambling for the words.

“May Christ Our Lord be your solid rock and cornerstone… May He cradle you in the palm of His hand and shelter you under His feathers… from this day on and forever more.”

The sweet child accepted my token and then crossed herself before stepping back to her brother’s side. I blinked rapidly in a vain attempt to keep my tears at bay as my mind scrambled to remember what the hell I was doing before I had descended into complete sentimentality.

Bandage him, you bloody sot, I chastised myself and reached for the roll of cloth.

My fingers set about their business, pure reputation having made them deft and capable of doing the work without a connected or coherent mental direction. My tongue was thick in my mouth, my lips suddenly felt clumsy as I tried to spit out the basic care instructions that he would need.

“Keep it dry,” I muttered, adding, “and change the bandage daily.”

Michael’s head bobbed enthusiastically, “Aye, Màthair. I will.”

The bandage now fastened off and talisman administered, the children simply stood and beamed at me, waiting for dismissal or further instruction.

“Right then,” I swallowed hard. “Off you go.”

With a parting wave, they flounced off and disappeared into the village’s market.

God go with you, dear ones.

…

Another week later.

The chill from the cave’s damp, stone floor was beginning to seep through the sheepskin beneath me. I shifted, pulling my woolen blanket up and over my shoulders, but it didn’t help… the cold and dark disquiet of the night still found me. My eyelids and every muscle in my body burned with fatigue, yet my mind refused to stop churning. It’s machinations kept me forever suspended in wakeful agony.

“Canna sleep?”

A short puff of air left my nose in frustration as I tried to ease the ache in my hip and lower back, as well as in response to Murtagh’s observation.

“Of course not,” I muttered in answer.

How could I sleep when I knew we’d been unsuccessful?

When we’d paraded through every village, hamlet, and croft and had no more information on Jamie’s whereabouts than when we’d left Lallybroch over three weeks ago?

I felt Murtagh’s gaze upon me and looked across the fire to find him studying me intently.

“What is it?” I raised a brow in slight annoyance

He’d grown more accustomed to my condition as both our journey and I progressed, but he was still more than a bit tongue tied about the whole matter. I didn’t know if it was due to the century and culture in which he lived, or if it was simply from lack of exposure, having never had a wife of his own. Either way, the fact that he had questions was evident and I often had to drag them out of him.

“Are the bairns troublin’ ye?” His brows furrowed in concern as he added, “Wi’ their movin’?”

I shook my head, “I think they’re asleep.”

This surprised the Scot and he absently stroked his chin in thought, a motion that amused me as I realized my hand closely echoed his, although it was hidden from his sight beneath my blanket.

“They don't always sleep when I do,” I explained, even while wishing they did, “but they do sleep.”

“When they wake…” he searched for the right words, “a bit like ye’ve swallowed fish, aye?”

“More like a small hippo,” I grumbled, wistfully remembering the days when the movements within me could have been something akin to the brush of a fish’s tail, instead of the hooves on fire they resembled of late.

“A wha’?”

“It’s a… it looks something like a pig,” I started, my gaze lifting to the dark, stone ceiling above me as I tried to conjure up the image of the beast. One had nearly capsized our boat when I was in Cairo with Uncle Lamb and — though I’d only been eleven or twelve at the time — it was certainly an experience that stuck with me.

I heard his astonished murmured acknowledgement as he shifted his mental image from something the size of a loaf of bread to a decent sized farm animal and grinned to myself as I added, “Except it’s bigger than a horse.”

His guttural reaction was incoherent to my Sassenach ears, but the shock, disbelief, and then reverent awe was crystal clear. Murtagh didn’t quite know how to change the subject and we both let a heavy silence fall.

It was now well into December, making me officially in my sixth month of pregnancy. The babies were growing rapidly and so, in turn, was I. It felt as though they were already running out of room… though I knew we still had a long three months to go.

The blessing of living on the road was that I hadn’t seen my reflection since we’d left Lallybroch. I firmly held onto that mental image of my figure, not wanting to think of what I looked like now, nor how big I’d be come the month of March. The fit of my skirts was evidence enough of how I was changing on an almost daily basis and I half wondered if the age old tradition of confinement was so that heavily expectant mothers could get away with wearing nothing but their shift all day… but come to that, I wasn’t sure if even my shift would fit for much longer.

“Ye’ll return to Lallybroch in the morn,” my companion’s command interrupted my wandering thoughts.

I stiffened, my head snapping to the side to search for him in the dark.

“No,” I responded simply.

I hadn’t the energy or the words to plead my case just now, but giving up on my husband was not an option and neither was returning home to Jenny empty handed. I would not go back to Lallybroch without Jamie at my side.

The dim light of the fire threw deep shadows across Murtagh’s face as he insisted again, “Ye’ll go, Claire.”

“I won’t,’ I countered, my temper flaring and swallowing my fatigue as I pushed myself up onto one elbow. “He is my husband.”

He rose one brow as if taunting me, his silent ‘do ye no’ think I ken that’ ringing loud and clear in my ears and I swallowed hard in a desperate attempt to keep my tears at bay.

“You can’t possibly know how it feels!”

Murtagh rose suddenly and strode to the mouth of the cave as he burst, “An’ ye’re the only one to lose someone ye loved, then?!”

The sky was clear and the moon shone bright tonight, silhouetting his hunched shoulders, usually so proud and stalwart.  

“I lost someone too,” he murmured, his voice betraying the deep, churning waters that flowed beneath an always unbroken surface.

“‘Twas at a MacKenzie gathering, many years ago… she was a canty lassie, bonnie as the day is long… but she had another suitor. So, I thought to prove myself to her, to be the kind of man she desired… During the hunt, I alone killed the wounded boar with nothing but my dagger… The MacKenzie was so impressed by the deed, he gave me the tusks… I had them made into bracelets… and gave them to her as a wedding gift.”

The bracelets.

Jenny had given them to me the morning Murtagh and Ian had returned and they’d been in my pocket ever since, a talisman of my own to keep Jamie’s presence with me. I pushed myself the rest of the way up, my hands patting at my skirts to find them.

“It was you,” I whispered as my fingers wrapped around the curved ivory, warm from being against my body.

Murtagh turned and I staggered to my feet, closing the distance between us as I held them out to him. He was at my side long before I made it to where he’d been standing and his hands shook as he took the bracelets, bringing them to his lips as his eyes slid shut. He swayed slightly and it was my turn to place a steadying hand on his arm, .

“Ye think ye’re the only one who loves Jamie?” Murtagh murmured after a moment, the silver light of the moon making his damp cheeks shine bright as he finally looked at me. I found my own pain echoed in his eyes, multiplied tenfold.

“He is a son to me, a nighean.”

I nodded, knowing that I couldn’t possibly form accurate words to convey the acheings of my heart… the overwhelming and soul crushing realization that he did, indeed, know how I felt and he’d been carrying the weight of it around for decades.

My hand gripped his arm and he pulled me to him, supporting me as I cried. His hand lifted to gently cradle the back of my head as I sobbed into his shoulder, my tears flowing free for the first time since we’d left Lallybroch.

The doubt crept in as I let go of my facade, making me ask, “What’s going to happen to me… to us, if he’s… if Jamie is...”

“If the lad is truly gone,” Murtagh choked out, his embrace tightening, “I vow to protect ye and the bairns for the rest of my life… just as I swore to Ellen to protect Jamie.”

[bbhyuckie]

jaehyun x reader

librarian! au

genre: fluff

words: 1.7k

warnings: realistic portrayals of college life lol

ive said before that im being self indulgent with posts

but this is really it

im really out here writing this

lets get into this mess

so youre studying right

and you yourself do not have a laptop of your own

bc welcome to being a broke college kid im calling myself out

so you decide that youre gonna go to the library on campus bc sis,, cash in on the tuition money ok

so you go and youre like wow hahahaha i dont have a library card better sign up for one

so you go to the desk and theres no one there

just your luck really

you decide to wander around a little to see if theres anyone who can help you

and low and behold you stumble across someone

this young man knelt down by a shelf with a book rack next to him just humming softly and organizing books

and you catch his attention by clearing your throat slightly

he looks up and his eyes are big over the rims of his wire framed glasses that are clinging to the tip of his round button nose

and his hair is a little mussed from being bent down

but holy hell

youve read enough novels to know that this must be exactly what the characters are talking about when they say things like ‘love at first sight’

“sorry” he says as he standcs and brushes himself off “can i help you with anything?”

starstruck really

you manage to stutter out something about needing to register for a library card and he smiles so kindly it makes u want to melt

“sure!’ he says, motioning for you to follow him back up to the desk

is this what a trance feels like???

he asks you a few basic questions, like your name, your age, and what building your dorm is in so he can put it all on your new nifty library card

and then he turns around this lil webcam on top of his computer and asks you to stand in front of it and smile

and you do, awkwardly

and as hes looking down at the computer counting “3, 2, 1” he has this smile on his face like hes trying to hide it

and if that didnt make ur heart jump you dont know what ever would holy

so he prints off your card as youre still trying to recover from being in the presence of an angel

and he hands it to you and smiles

“library hours are 8 am to 12 am every day, but on the weekends i’m the one that closes. which means if you ever need some extra time to finish that essay you pushed off,,, i wont tell anyone”

aND HE W I NK S

and not lot a hot wink

but a cute?? wink??? if thats possible

like you have a secret with him now and its safe

you wonder absently as you stare down at the black and white picture of yourself on the back of your new card if he tells everyone about him closing on the weekends

and if he doesnt does that make you special???/

you smile and thank him again, maybe a little more confidently than before and head for the door

you realise as youre halfway out that you came here to study on the computers but you really need some time to sit down and process the fact that you just say an actual angel

you can do your math homework on your phone for one more night if it means you can turn down your body heat from screaming blushing mess to slightly embarrassed rosy cheeks

the next time you get a chance to run by the library on campus, it just so happens to be sunday

you catch yourself wondering if dream boy meant friday and saturday or saturday and sunday when he said weekends

thats not important right now

what is important is that you have actual business to do in the library today

and that business is to pick up hamlet for your english class

you check in and someone else is at the front desk

you try not to let yourself feel disappointed

i mean you met him once for christs sake

the guy at the front is equally as attractive as dream boy from the previous week, but a little more relaxed to talk to since he isnt giving you any flirty subtones

the kid is all business really

he tells you that his name is doyoung if you need anything else

you ask how he got the job there, out of curiousity

because really, both of the librarians youve encountered seem pretty young for the standard librarian stereotype

doyoung explains that its a work-study job, so nearly all the people that work there are students at the university and work in between classes or on their off days to make some extra cash or pay off some tuition

and you can get behind that!!

so doyoung is cool and you decide you can go to him to ask questions instead

because while dream boy is a dream boy with pretty cheekbones and nice lips and a smooth voice and a good sense of style and a great height without insoles and looks great with glasses and has the most captivating eyes

hes a lil distracting lol

anyway you find yourself in the shakespearean section

and you grab a hamlet off the shelf and head back up to the front to have doyoung check the book out to you

and as hes handing you the book back you get a classroom notification saying that, despite common belief, the book rental wasnt due by tomorrow, but the whole book reading is due by tomorrow

you wonder how the fuck professors get away with shit like this and then you remember that you didnt bother to read the syllabus so you cant really get too mad at anyone but yourself

so you find a table that looks like it has the comfiest chairs and cozy up for a long evening of reading and annotating

(depending on who you are you either love or hate hamlet, either way it is exhausting to annotate anything from that man so bear with me ok)

five hours later and ⅔ of the annotations later it is 11:56pm

and you havent noticed

you hadnt noticed much of anything happening in the real world after you popped in a headphone and started reading about guards seeing a ghost

that is until someone plops down in the seat in front of you and asks

“so what are you studying”

and you look up, a little delayed because youre finishing a notation

only to find that its dream boy

and your brain blanks for a sec bc wow every time you see him its kinda like?? ouch???? my heart bro

so you just kind of shake your head and mutter some “im not really sure anymore”

and theres some truth to that!! first there were ghosts and now theres dead girlfriends dads and dead girlfriends and talking about a skull in a graveyard

that play is really a wild ride brother

and dream boy sits there and laughs, wholesomely

you could die happy

“yeah i get that” he says, rubbing the back of his neck

theres a pause that carries on a bit too long

“wanna hear a dumb joke?” he asks suddenly

you smile then, partially out of exhaustion and partially because wow?? cutie

“sure” you say

“okay. what do you call a nervous javelin thrower?”

you pause for a sec bc wtf

“dunno. what do you call them?”

he flashes this cute fucking grin that you know is supposed to be slick but just comes off as wholesome and says

“shakespeare”

and you shouldve seen that coming wow

and its so dumb that you actually??? giggle????? and that turns into a laugh??

youre probably just exhausted from annotations but maybe that was actually funny

and his smile softens like hes made progress on something

“y/n, right? i dont think i ever actually introduced myself. i’m jaehyun”

he smiles and reaches across the tabe and you take his hand

its warm and strong and you try not to think about it too hard

“well, y/n, library loses here in another two minutes or so.”

he sees the look on your face fall

“but never fear!” he leans forward and lowers his voice

you hold your breath

“i told ya you could stay, didnt i?”

his smile is closed lipped and cute and genuine

before you can say anything hes up and ushering the last few people out of the library, telling them good night and good luck with their classes tomorrow

youre kind of caught in a brain dead daze after finally being pulled from your studying to watching this cute librarian named jaehyun bustle around and lock doors and turn off lights

and when he finally gets back to you he clicks on the lamp on the table youre working at and sets a cup of coffee in front of you

he mustve made it as you were falling asleep with your eyes open

you thank him copiously before asking

“i thought you let everyone stay after hours when you closed”

he looks up over the rim of his mug with a surprised look in his eyes

he shakes his head as swallows the clearly too hot coffee

“not at all. most of the time i kick them out and study by myself.”

he blushes like its a confession and it makes you feel,,,, something

but you dont want to press

so you just reach out and offer your other headphone to him because if you dont know what to say then you can both enjoy some good study music

so he pulls out his homework for the night and the two of you sit there and study

you sip off your coffee occasionally and both of you nod your heads to the music playing in your ears

he hums along to the ones he knows and a thought skips across your mind

you could get used to this

(theres a 100000% chance there will be a part two to this)

[murkrees]

older brother! nct (hyung line)

Taeil

okay so

let me start with taeil

cute floofy taeil okay

taeil just gives off these warm brotherly vibes u know???

like honestly you were b l e s s e d to have moon taeil as ur bro

ever since childhood he’d just be so naturally protective over you like

it wouldn’t be overprotectiveness like a certain someone (ty track cOUGH) but it would just be so subtle

as in if you both would be on the bus he would give you the seat closer to the window and stand up while keeping an eye out for anybody who even tried to touch you the wrong way

would be the best if you needed help with your homework

didn’t understand an equation? mOON TAEIL AT YOUR SERVICE

if u ever brought friends over and he would accidentally walk out with his bed hair, oversized tee and boxers

happens way too many times is2g

he’d just stop in his tracks and stare at you all with a blush on his cheeks before whirling around on his heel and walking back to his room without a word

hES SO AWKWARD ITS PRECIOUS AAA

he wouldn’t be the type to glare daggers at a guy you brought over

he’d just stare at him while trying to calm himself down and gulp nervously, eyes shaking like they were in nct life paju during yaja time

he’d clear his throat so much and ask so many weird questions

"so how long have you been dating my sibling”

"around two months?”

"uhh, that’s great, congratulations”

he wouldn’t be super aggressive w you than he would be with the other nct members

but during christmas don’t expect him to be above shoving you outta the way to get to the presents first

moon taeil is precious protect him

Johnny

JOHNNY

MY MAN

u guys would be sibling goals af ngl

would always back down in fights cause he hated fighting w u

always always always ruffles your hair

can get aggressive sometimes but its okay you get aggressive back

would be ur no.1 supporter

have an show at school??? expect him to have front row seats while holding a handycam in his hand, cheering the loudest 4 u

fundraiser????? he’ll be standing by your booth and persuading everyone to buy your cupcakes cause let’s be real this boy has looks and enough smooth talk to churn butter

going on a date to a fancy restaurant? it’s johnny’s fashion evaluation

"wear the red dress we bought two months ago and use the pearl earrings mom gave you for your birthday”

"what are those heeeeels use the other pair woman!!! ur legs will look better”

wouldn’t be the overprotective type if you brought a guy/girl over

would try to get along as well as he could w him/her to make you comfortable

he always puts you first and makes sure you know that

Taeyong

lee taeyong!!!

real sweetheart

would b so overprotective of u and he wouldn’t even realize

if u brought a guy over he’d just make up random excuses to tail you around and “supervise”

cough cough glare at him the whole time

but halfway through he’d just kinda snap back to reality and realize how he’d been acting

and just kind of tone it down a little

ngl your friends would love going over to your house because of him lmao

you guys would just have that kind of relationship where you just completely understand and count on each other

like if you had a nightmare you’d just knock on his room door and peek in and he’s writing lyrics with only his desk lamp on

and he looks up at you with bed hair and home clothes and he sees your face

you guys don’t even exchange words before he understands you had a nightmare and you just trudge over and flop on his bed and fall asleep there as he continues to write lyrics

or if he had a particularly stressful day and he’d come home looking like shit

you’d just bring out the pillows and blankets and lay them out on the sofa with two tubs of ice cream with your favorite flavors

and he’d just plop down next to you and you’d just listen to him vent

honestly taeyong wouldn’t even be in the position he was in now if it weren’t for you

sibling support 100000000%

Yuta

this boi

probably made you cry a lot during your childhood lbr

there’d be times where he’d tease you for your pigtails

“mooooom yuta’s teasing me again!!!”

“moooooooooooooooom yuta’s teasing me again!!!!!!!!!!” (yuta’s imitation of your voice)

but as you both grew up he matured and so did u

of course there’d still be times where he’d tease you but they’d be more playful and less intense

“what are you going on, a date? who’s the unlucky guy stupid enough to go on a date with you”

“funny because the last time i checked he was in that idol group of yours”

cue yuta choking on his spit

there’d be times where you’d be cooped up in your room studying for exams

and he’d knock on your room door licking a stick of ice cream and handing another one to you while asking if you needed a break of a ride to the nearest café/starbucks for a change of scenery

or times where he’d be in a pissy mood and you made sure to give him space to cool down

but u do knock on his door and tell him quietly that you have a plate of his favorite food in the microwave

and he never answers but by the morning the plate would already be washed

brags abt u a lot to the other members (not that you would know that)

tbh i honestly think he’d be even more protective than taeyong

wouldn’t be above threatening your boyfriend if they ever hurt you

if u ever come home crying he’d go ballistic

“tELL ME WHO THE HELL I NEED TO BEAT UP ONLY I CAN MAKE MY SISTER CRY”

secretly a big softie for you no lie

Kun

the nicest older brother to ever exist

the most understanding person you’ve ever met

treats you to food all the time

never allows you to pay after

“what kind of older brother would i be if i cant even treat you for a meal??”

you go to him for advice,, like,, all the time

a great listener

went home crying after some school drama? better expect kun already there with some ice cream and blankets ready to listen to your latest emotional rollercoaster

your parents could always trust him to take care of you if they had dates or had to go out so you never had babysitters

all your friends wish they had kun as their older brother

(pretty sure some of them had crushes on him, but i mean,,,, who wouldn’t)

can be savage if he wants to but only if you poke fun at him

doesn’t look like it but can be quite playful

sometimes you’d tease him and he’d just look at you with that done-ass face

drives you everywhere!!! even accompanies you to the mall or to do some shopping

actually so touched the first time you bought him a meal with your own money

“my baby’s growing up…” sniff

“shut up this is literally a two dollar street snack”

in his eyes you’re still a little kid

love older brother kun thanks

Doyoung

ngl he’d be the type to not know how to act around you when you both were young??

“what do you want for your christmas present?? what do girls ur age like??? what do children like keep me up to date what are fedgeet speeners”

only comes out of his room to grab some food

as you both grew older he’d be more comfortable around you

before performances he would send you selcas of him to ease his preperformance nerves

tons of selcas his gallery would be filled with them tbh

“whos ur favorite brother”

“obviously me ahaha who am i kidding”

“its not gongmyung right”

“right???”

“(y/n) pls answer me”

always remembers to buy you random trinkets from his tours abroad bcs he knows how much u love them

u always go to him when you need help with your schoolwork or study but always roasts you about your grades

“what do you mean you don’t understand trigonometry its literally the easiest thing in the book”

his savage side always shows up whenever u two hang out together

“oh u like that necklace? buy it urself”

ends up buying that necklace for u anyway

showers u with gifts cause he doesn’t know how to show his affection otherwise

nags u a lot but that’s because he lovs u

(and bcos ur a mess)

“you ate dinner right?? im not accepting a ‘yes’ if you ate instant ramyeon”

“i don’t care if you have finals you are bathing at least once a day ya stinkie”

“wash those dishes piling up in your sink (y/n) gross”

be grateful for older brother doyoung keeping you in check

Ten

oof

you know he’s that one bitch

one of the most annoying™ people you’ve known growing up

kind of distant to you while you were teens because of how hectic his life is

still doesn’t exempt his love for teasing you though

i mean,,, have you seen that one picture of ten casually taking a selfie as his mom scolds his sister right beside him,,, yeah

probably the type to wake you up saying you were late for school just to record you running around the house like a madman and going out the door just to realize its 4 am on a saturday

but you grew up watching his antics so you knew what not to do when you got older

as the both of you shifted to adulthood you got closer

ended up as you taking care of him and making sure he doesn’t accidentally get in trouble most of the time

still teases you playfully though

“no ten the market is this way jesus christ get off your phone”

“oho so you do care! if you care about me that much why don’t you pay for our meal—”

“go choke”

being ten’s sibling automatically makes you friends with johnny no ifs ors buts

ten brought him along to one of your hangout sessions without telling you beforehand and now he’s just,,, there

you don’t even bat an eye at him anymore

or the other members he brings along

probably tried to set you up with johnny more than once but the both of you have already caught on and are just playing along to amuse him

automatically makes you good friends with lisa too

lowkey doesn’t want to introduce bambam to you oops

is so subtly protective of you but lbr who could get intimidated by his 169 cm ass

like that time he caught jaemin glancing your way for a tad bit too long and he just gave him the look™

never likes the guys you hang out with

“that kind of guy doesn’t deserve you (y/n),,, you need someone gentlemanly, someone nice and tall like johnny-“

“if you like him that much why don’t you date him instead”

you may have grown up but in his eyes you’re still that little girl with pigtails he used to pull

older sibling ten is annoying but you love him anyway

Jaehyun

jaehyoOons

growing up with such an attractive brother was both a blessing and a curse

sure he was attractive and that itself was a plus point but then you had to deal with all the fakies that came at you just to get closer to your dorky older brother

not to mention the countless times he accompanied you somewhere or picked you up from school and heads would just turn

it got annoying at times but then you got used to it

now you just enjoy the perks of having such an attractive brother because honestly, who wouldn’t

not to mention good lucks are hereditary lucky you ;)))

good brother,, always follows your parents instructions so if anybody ever got in trouble it was you

if you were up to mischief and he found out he always covered for you,,, no exceptions even if he didn’t approve of whatever you were doing

the little sneak got good at lying from all the times he covered for you

always ALWAYS always there to comfort you whenever you had a bad day or if you were crying

not necessarily protective but still ready to give a little “warning” to whoever messes with you

talked to you a lot ever since you were children

by a lot i mean a lot

because he’s pretty shy at school when he was younger he makes up for it by discussing alien conspiracy theories with you

now that he’s opened up more it doesn’t mean that you both don’t enjoy a good conversation about whether or not mars had living beings

whenever you both had meals together or dinner with the family there wasn’t a moment where he didn’t steal your food

“food tastes the best when it’s on another person’s plate”

rly sneaky about it but you always notice

gets angry at you if you don’t take care of yourself properly

like the time he ignored all your messages and calls for two whole days cause he found out you consecutively skipped lunch and dinner

makes sure you have your priorities straight

older brother! jae is amazing lucky you

Winwin

whatta weirdo

ever since you were children he’s always been an oddball

clings to you wherever you go

even though he’s older than you sometimes it feels like you’re the older one who has to take care of him

honestly if it weren’t for you he probably wouldn’t have survived the first 15 years of his life

not to mention the multiple times you had to guide him whenever you were in malls or in a crowded marketplace just to make sure he doesn’t get lost or distracted

would fool around with you during family gatherings

inside jokes are a thing no ifs buts ors

whenever something reminds you of that inside joke you’d just look at each other from the other side of the room and make eye contact before smirking

all your other siblings are so done with you two,,, especially your parents

like the time the both of you attempted to bake a cake for fun and eggs ended up on the ceiling

don’t ask

it took all your willpower to stop winwin from burning the place down

when you guys finished you were covered in all sorts of ingredients and spend 15 minutes laughing about it

but you got closer thanks to that!!

even though winwin should not be allowed in the kitchen or near a stove anymore sometimes when you two hang out and want to reminisce you just start baking

always ends up in a mess but you two have fun anyway

as you two grew up there wouldn’t be much that changed

he texts you random korean words or phrases just to show you how much he’s been improving

actually convinced you to take up learning korean too

you would call him and talk to him in korean to practice and he would cheer you on or correct you if you got any words wrong

lowkey doesn’t want you to meet any of the nct members except for renjun lmao

would probably try to set you up with renjun,,,, but ended up as you two being rly good friends so it was a win/win situation ha ha

has actually had to fight yuta to make sure he did not get your number

“but if winwin is this cute then how cute could his sibling be??? come on pls”

you know all his embarrassing secrets,,, and always made sure to bring it up whenever he has members over

he would whine for you to be quiet about it and stop

older sibling! winwin is too lovable u are blessed

Jungwoo

s o f t

literally the best older brother you could ask for

took care of you so much when you were children

basically coddled you

fell down in the playground and scraped your knee? expect older brother jungwoo to run around finding a bandaid before putting it on your knee as he told you to be more careful

forgot lunch? jungwoo will 420 blaze it to your classroom and hand over his lunch saying that he’ll steal some food off of his friends

had arguments with you whether or not cow was spelt with a c or a k

someone made you cry? the moment you entered the house you’d just hug him and cry to his sweater

he’d just hug you back and tell you it’s okay while caressing your head

older brother jungwoo is soFT

he probably wouldn’t change as you got older

still coddled you nonstop 24/7/365

“its going to rain today don’t forget to bring your umbrella”

“yes mom”

soccer nights are a thing and tradition to never forget or break

you always wanting to meet nct and jungwoo chuckling nervously

“(y/n),,,, im not sure that’s a very good idea,,,”

you teasing him playfully

“I saw that new meme on instagram about you,,, can you try saying ‘skorret’ again”

“dO YoU havE JunGwOOiTis?”

“(y/n) pls stop”

“you know the general public and your members seem to have the image that you’re real soft i wonder if they know about the time where you-“

“ssssssshhhhhh”

but all is good because jungwoo loves you!! and you love him back don’t forget that

[hipchub]

hi pls write a drabble abt harry and louis are in highschool and theyre boyfriends and beau is harry's lil sister and louis is so intimated by her glares that's why louis doesn't often go to harry's home and cue in beau liking louis after they did a food fight in anne's kitchen (this is based on bunboyfriend's (?) post and I want u to write it bc ur the love of my life)

this is so adorable and i probably can’t do it justice but i tried

based off of this post

“your tie looks like shit.” louis startled and turned around, groaning loudly in annoyance when he found his sister, lottie, slouched against his door frame, eyeing him. 

“i’m aware of that, thanks,” he snapped in agitation, twisting around to once again face his full-body mirror and fumble with the stiff fabric hugging his black-collared neck. he heard a shuffle behind him and watched mutely through the glass as lottie sauntered into the room and threw herself onto his unmade bed. 

“i don’t get why you’re so nervous. haven’t you two been dating for like… ever?” she asked, tilting her head, cocking an eyebrow, and resting her cheek on her fist. 

“we haven’t been dating ‘for like ever’,” louis said, huffing and pushing the tail of the tie over the poorly-made knot. “we’ve only been dating for two months and twenty-four days,” he paused while lottie groaned, “and i happen to be meeting his family—his whole family—tonight over dinner.” 

“so what? you’ve known him and his family for months, louis. it’s not like it’s that big of a deal.” she laid back on the mattress and strewn clothing, and stared up at the grease and ryan gosling posters shamelessly pinned to the ceiling. 

“occasionally saying ‘hi’ to his mum after spending most the night in his room is not the same as meeting his family,” louis said irritably. after failing for the tenth time to properly tie his tie, he groaned and yanked it from his neck. “if all you’re gonna do is judge me, then get out of my room,” he said angrily, glaring at her while he fixed the leafs of his collar. 

lottie stared blankly at him before pushing herself from the bed and walking out of the room. after his door shut, louis, through the wood, could hear her yell, “mum, louis kicked me out of his room because he’s too whipped for his stupid boyfriend to talk to me!”

an hour later, louis was stood in front of the styles’ door with a bouquet of red roses and an expensive bottle of chardonnay. he nervously threaded his fingers through his quaffed hair again despite his mother’s previous protests (“it looks lovely,” jay said after louis’ countless attempts to fix his hair, smiling fondly and gently straightening up louis’ collar. “you look lovely, boobear”). the cold breeze and onpouring snow made the eighteen-year-old shiver, and his nerves nearly convinced him to leave with the excuse of a cold he’d caught due of the awful, wintery weather. 

before he could second-guess himself again, the door was swinging open, warm air was pouring out and engulfing his frigid frame, and harry’s mum, a beautiful woman wearing a very festive apron, was standing in the doorway with a wide, welcoming smile etched on her face. “louis! come in, come in,” she said, opening the door wider and allowing him to step in. 

“hi, miss twist,” louis greeted sheepishly, shuffling inside and standing semi-awkwardly with his gifts in hand. 

“please, call me anne.” she smiled and kindly took his jacket, hanging it on the familiar coat stand beside the door. 

“um, this,” he stuck out the bottle of wine, “is for you…” 

anne graciously took the bottle and read the label. “thank you so much, louis.” before she could question him about the commute over in the subdue snow blizzard, however, harry began making his way down the stairs, calling out a rhetorical, “is he here?” a short moment later, harry’s fuzzysock-clad feet met the last step and his gaze met his finely-dressed boyfriend’s. 

stunning would be an understatement, louis thought when his eyes landed on harry, his gorgeous, utterly gorgeous boyfriend. “h,” he whispered in an almost inaudible greeting, breath quite literally stolen from him by the genuine reincarnation of aphrodite standing a few feet before him. “these, uh—these are for you,” louis said in a stammer, thrusting the bouquet forward and nervously tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. 

harry’s eyes widened and lit up, and, louis swears, not even the stars could compare. his shy smile was beautiful (as always), lips red-bitten and hands cautious as he took the bouquet and brought it to his nose, smelling the roses like some duchess in one of the many rom-coms harry’s had him watch. christ, louis was gone for him. 

“thank you,” harry said in awe, making no move to say anything else.

anne, seeing as the two could and would easily just continue to stare at each other for the rest of the night, cut in, throwing a smirk to harry’s older sister, gemma, at the dining table. “how about i put these in water for you, and you two can take a seat at the dinner table?” with gentle hands, she removed the flowers from harry’s grip and left towards the kitchen without receiving a reply. 

after a moment, louis shuffled forward and grabbed harry’s hand, taking a second to admire the nude nail polish, and smiled down at the boy. “you look lovely,” he whispered softly, eyeing the light purple knit sweater and black jeans. “made of lightening.” 

a pink dusting painted harry’s cheeks and he pushed at louis’ chest, hiding his blush behind his fist and his movement towards the table. “shut up,” he said, glancing back at the older boy and sitting opposite of his elder sister.

sitting down at the table across from harry’s younger sister, beau, the nerves flooded louis’ mind and body again, accompanied by a bouncing leg, clammy palms, and butterflies in his tummy. he would hate to ever admit that an innocent, little girl was the main cause for his anxiousness, but she was. 

the little curly-haired brunette was why harry and louis’ hangouts were usually at louis’ rather than harry’s, and, if they went to harry’s, the reason why it was usually later at night rather than in the evening when beau was awake. harry tried to get louis to admit to his fears after louis hastily shot down the idea of babysitting beau with harry one night, but louis flat-out refused. it wasn’t his fault beau’s glares and crossed arms intimidated him. harry tried to tell him it was beau’s way of protecting her big brother, and that she was actually a real sweetheart, but louis couldn’t stand the thought of harry’s family members hating him, hence the nerves. 

currently, as predicted, beau was making a foul face at louis, making him frown and shift his gaze to the generously-sized breadbasket before him. when harry’s hand landed on his denim-clad thigh, louis decided to make an effort to not let beau’s looks bother him, and just accept that she was only trying to protect her best friend (well, ‘best friend’ according to harry. apparently she was quite fond of a girl called naomi, but that’s none of louis’ business). 

when anne came back to the table moments later, she was accompanied by a large array of food as well as gemma, who’d preciously excused herself from an interesting conversation about her university in order to help her mum. harry and louis helped, too, laying the plates out onto the table while anne opened the bottle of chardonnay for her and gemma to enjoy. 

dishing out the food lasted about five minutes because of how much there was. louis’ plate resembled a rochester garbage plate; cornbread, chicken, bread, mashed potatoes, and macaroni lay on top of one another in a heap of butter, calories, and heaven. harry’s plate, as well as the rest of the family’s, mimicked his, and louis was honestly salivating; he couldn’t wait to dig in and experience the kind of stuffed that only usually happened on christmas day.

an hour and a half later, plates cleared off, room full of uplifted chatter between louis and harry’s family, and harry’s hand openly wrapped in louis’, louis’ nerves were gone. after the obvious shift in his mood whenever meeting beau’s scornful and pouty gaze (either that or the fact louis let her have the last bread roll), beau eased up a bit on her silent punishment for him. 

“well, i say we take this to the living room and have dessert?” anne suggested, starting to stand up and clear off the absolute clutter of dishes. 

being the oldest in a primarily female household and having been used to helping his mum out, louis was quick to his feet. “no, no, miss twist,” louis said, not missing the small protest of, “it’s anne,” from her. “let us take care of it.” 

upon their own request, harry and louis stacked and brought all the utensils, plates, and bowls into the kitchen (careful not to drop anything) and set up a system of washing (harry) and drying (louis) while gemma, anne, and beau situated themselves in the living room and looked for a family-friendly movie to watch. 

“so, that wasn’t too bad, hm?” harry asked with a cheeky smirk dancing on his lips after a few minutes of quietness.

“no, it wasn’t…” louis said, trailing off as he ran a towel over the inside of what was the mashed potatoes bowl. “it wasn’t bad at all. you were right, as usual.” 

“’as usual’,” harry repeated. 

“as usual,” louis said, looking at harry and smiling. “as usual you were right. as usual you look absolutely handsome. as usual i want to kiss you.” 

harry giggled and rolled his eyes, shutting off the water and placing the last plate in the dishrack. “what would i ever do without you, romeo?” harry said teasingly. 

“well, for one, you’d have to dry all these dishes by yourself,” louis said. harry laughed loudly and quickly kissed louis’ cheek (when louis tapped his lips, harry responded, “not in front of the children,” despite them being alone) before heading towards the living room. “get the dessert, please and thank you!” 

louis laughed and watched warmheartedly as harry walked from the room to join his family. he finished drying the dishes in a few minutes’ time, stacking them all beside the sink rack because the cabinets were foreign and he didn’t want to intrude, and neatly folding the towels back. he was carrying the dessert, a plate of skillfully blue frosted cupcakes, into the living room when beau barged into the kitchen and bumped into louis, causing him to drop almost half of the cupcakes (mainly onto her). 

louis stood, jaw dropped open in shock. “oh, my god,” he whispered, staring at beau’s frosting-covered cheeks and silk pajamas, and seeing his life flash before his eyes. “i am—i am so, so sorry, beau,” louis tried to apologize, turning to grab the roll of paper towel of its dispenser. except, louis hadn’t even been able reach the paper towel before he felt something small, dense, and wet impact his back. 

having a sneaking suspicion, louis reached behind him and dipped his fingers into the blue sugary substance that now tainted the back of his shirt. he knew who the culprit was, which was why he quickly darted to the opposite end of the kitchen, plate of remaining cupcakes in hand, and crouched behind the marble island. “this means war,” he called out, gathering some frosting onto his fingertips and painting two lines under each of his eyes.

when he got no reply, louis tried to briefly loom over the countertop to get a verdict, but a green-frosted cupcake—where the hell did she get those? —came whizzing past his face, grazing him only slightly, and hit the faucet behind him. louis ducked, un-necessarily rolling across the tile before reloading his ammo and grabbing another cupcake. he poked his head out from the side of the island and blindly threw a cupcake, hoping it’d hit his desired target. if the unexpected laugh and the childish taunt of, “you suck!” was anything to go by, he horribly missed. 

louis probably shouldn’t have started a cupcake war in the kitchen of his boyfriend’s house with said boyfriend’s little sister, but he figured he’d deal with the consequences later. he grabbed three more cupcakes and shouted, “fire away!” before throwing them all consecutively, rolling from his hideaway behind the cabinets and leaving himself out in the trenches. 

beau smiled faintly and ducked all the oncoming cupcakes, pelting her own back at the teenager. louis grunted and dodged two, but was stuck with the third and fourth, frosting drenching his face. the war continued for several minutes before louis was absolutely coated in cake, a mix of blue and green frosting, and christmas-themed sprinkles. 

“it’s a bloodbath,” he said, mock-crying as he fell backwards against the now-dirtied cabinets. “beau, if i don’t-” he coughed and spluttered, making beau giggle loudly in amusement, “-make it out alive… tell harry i, i-” 

“hey lou—what the…?” harry stood in the doorway staring at the dessert-covered scene in front of him, mouth agape and eyes open wide. 

“…oops?”

[le-sejour]

Assumptions

Words: 1,530+

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, cheesy/bad flirting, kinda sexual thoughts lmao, my writing AHAHA

A/N: Just wanted to do a funny little TJeffs imagine bc I can’t seem to have enough of the imagines out there. So I decided to add my own prompt based one to the mix. :>

The prompts I used:

45 - Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

171 - “I’m sorry, what were you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

And

208 -  “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

I hope you guys like it! c’:

Being a Hamilton was a lot of work.

More specifically, being the younger sister of a protective, overachieving Hamilton was a lot of work.

The words on your book seemed to swirl together into an incoherent mess, your eyes straining to make sense of the chaos. Groaning, you shut your notebook dejectedly and reclined in your seat.

None of this made sense to you, at all, but of course you have to keep trying.

It’s what Hamiltons do.

Or at least, you did. Your brother didn’t have to try, he probably would have been done learning this chapter weeks ago. You felt the familiar pull of anxiety pressuring you into becoming at par with your older brother but you desperately pushed it down before it could come up.

Leaning further back against your seat earned you a satisfying crack. How long have you been hunched over this dumb book anyway? Checking your phone, your eyes widened at your notifications and the time.

“Christ…” You muttered, miserably staring at the “8 missed calls” seeming to taunt you. It was nearing midnight and you’ve been chilling in the coffee shop by your campus for more than 12 hours now. Alex was going to be pissed.

Not that he even had a reason to, anyway. Your apartment was just down the road from where you were. But that doesn’t deter his innate need to become both your mother and father all at once; fussing over you before scolding you for being out so late. You sighed, stuffing your things into your bag leisurely.

Well, you were already in for a treat at this rate. Might as well take your time. You just hoped the boys were there with him to somehow soften the blow, knowing only they could reign in your brother when he gets like that.

Why oh why did you even insist on taking this elective this semester, anyway? You were already juggling a full courseload and a part time gig at a campus food truck, you didn’t need any more reason to go bald. And yet, here you were.

Absentmindedly, you tossed your half empty coffee cup into your bag before the realization dawned on you that you should not have done that.

“Shit!” You quickly fished out the now empty cup from your bag, letting out another long string of expletives as you yanked your things from the now slightly damp bag in panic.

“Do you mind?”

“Go suck a fat dick, asshole.” You replied almost instantly, wiping down your laptop with already soggy tissues before groaning. Letting out a whispered “duh”, you sprinted to the counter to grab some dry ones this time.

“What are you doing?” When you returned to your table, this mass of curls and rudeness was holding your precious baby in his hands as if he owned the damn thing. With your brain already in a tizzy with just seeing a stranger holding the lifeblood of your education, all that came out of your mouth was a “That’s not yours.”

“Your welcome, darlin’.” He teased with a smirk on his face as he handed you your now dry laptop. “I suggest using whatever lives inside the space between your ears next time. Would be a shame if this happened again and the guy you told to eat a dick didn’t help you out.”

That seemed to kickstart your brain into functioning again.

“Yeah well I didn’t ask you to come here and try to play hero, did I?” You glared at the man you now recognized as Thomas Jefferson, the bane of your brother’s existence. Or so he says, anyway. You’ve had two classes with the guy, and you can kinda see what your brother was talking about. “Why are you even here, Jefferson? Shouldn’t you be off kicking puppies and making babies cry or something?”

“Now whatever gave you the idea that I spent my leisure time doing something so… unsavory?” He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion for a split second before a smug look replaced it. It had happened so fast, you weren’t sure if it even happened. “Besides, the only babe I want to hear crying tonight would be you, doll.”

“I-“ You felt your cheeks heat up from his comment, naively not expecting the man to make any lewd comments at your expense. You decided to busy yourself with wiping your bag down instead of standing there, looking like a blushing fool. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response. Besides, shouldn’t you be more… I dunno, ‘I’m not talking to the peasants’ kind of guy?”

“You seem to be making quite the assumptions about me and yet, I haven’t even had the pleasure of getting your name.” He pointed out in a charming little drawl that had your stomach flipping pancakes.

Fuck.

Okay, hey, you weren’t going to lie. The man was attractive as fuck, from the head of curls to his dark, commandeering eyes, carefully trimmed facial hair, and that body. God. Let’s not forget that voice, though, a honeyed baritone that sent your stomach postively churning with desire, and good Lord his accent just amplifyed it all. (MY VOICE KINK IS SHOWING I’M SORRY) His attitude, however, could use a little (okay a LOT of) polishing.

But what’s the harm in indulging yourself a little bit? You know you could never fall for the man, his personality alone repels your heart from that very notion (aka he’s an asshole and you’d rather not get involved with all that). Enjoying the attention, however, doesn’t necessarily involve that certain part of you.

“[Name]” You praised yourself for not stuttering, wadding up the soiled tissues into a ball before once again loading your stuff into your now coffee stained bag. “And I suppose you’re right, I am boxing you into my assumptions. Can you blame me though? Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy on campus, and your actions don’t exactly redeem you, either.”

A meticulously groomed eyebrow rose at your words, a smirk still on his lips as he leaned against the table, “You’ve been watching me? Why Miss [Name], I must say, I didn’t expect that from you. Though I can’t say it’s entirely unwelcomed. You’re free to watch me as long as you’d like, darlin’.”

“Don’t get any ideas, Jefferson,” You rolled your eyes, slinging your coffee stained bag onto your shoulders now. “We have a couple of classes together. And really, that’s enough to see what everyone’s always going on about.”

“Oh?” Thomas looked like he was mildly interested to hear your thoughts of him. He’s never really noticed you during classes, as he opted to sit with his friend James Madison up front, but hearing you talk so candidly about who you think he is both amused him and intrigued him. If you had been anyone else, especially Alexander, he would have already put you in your place yesterday.

“You’re arrogant, abrasive, and you seem to think so little of everyone who isn’t you. You constantly intentionally get into fights with Alexander, you have this habit, or should I say hobby?, of using people like pawns on a chessboard, and-”

Now, there were a few things you need to know about Thomas. One of which is that he prides himself in always coming to classes, meetings, dates, and what have yous, in the perfect state of mind and on time. But as he stared at you going off about how he was practically one with the scum of the earth, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to focus on anything you were saying.

Instead, he noticed the way your lips moved as you formed the words that sullied his good name. He etched into memory the way your eyes blazed with passion as you continued your tirade on him, and the way your eyebrows furrowed when you-

“-ot listening anymore, are you?”

“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” He silently applauded himself at the smooth recovery, throwing in a wink for good measure. He couldn’t seem to help it though, he’s never seen anyone talk shit about him while looking so beautiful. Not to mention, you hardly sounded like you had some personal vendetta against him. That meant you were about as much threat to him as a baby rabbit.

Aaaand there goes the pancakes in your stomach again.

Fuck.

You bit your lip, willing the flames in your cheeks to die down before they blossomed on them once more. Feeling that you were going to lose that battle, you hurried to move past him, heading for the door.

“Y’know, Jefferson? It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line. It’s sad, really. And to think I believed the rumors about your skills.”

Oh ho! He felt his smirk stretch into a very smug, very self-satisfied grin. If that wasn’t an invitation to prove you wrong.

“Back here on Wednesday at 4pm. I’ll show you exactly why those rumors came about.”

Without answering, you walked out the door knowing one Thomas Jefferson was still lounging on that table with the most conceited, wolfish smile he could muster because he knew. Oh he knew very well that you were coming back. The bastard.

You felt your heart flutter at the thought.

F u c k.

FIN

[euphoricguk]

Out And About

Member/Pairing: Jimin x Taehyung/VMin 

Genre: Pierced! Jimin AU; Nerd Brother! Taehyung AU; High School! AU; MxM

Word Count: 1.6K 

Triggers/Warnings: Cursing

Author Note:  A while ago I wanted to write a Pierced! Jimin AU because well...do I need to say more? I also wanted to try some new stuff on this blog so here’s my gay mxm debut. Hope y’all enjoy~

“...Anyway, he failed me because I didn’t write the paper so, now I have detention.”

“I fucking told you that guy was an asshole when you signed up for his class. ‘Wholesome, educational environment’ my ass... You’re still coming tonight though, right?”

Jimin was seated on top of the blue lunch tables of the cafeteria, back curved as he looked down at Yumi who was seated on the bench in front of him, stuffing her face with a ham and cheese sandwich from the deli.

“I planned on it,” she said before swallowing her bite, quickly leaning back down to take another one, “but I don’t know. I’m not going to screw myself over and fail his class and have to retake it next year, so...I kind of need to go so I can make up the paper, you feel?”

“I get you, ” he trailed off. Easily distracted, Jimin’s eyes roamed the seemingly endless flocks of students crowded in the food court, a look somewhere between disgust and interest plastered across his face. Only when he saw a girl coming out with a slice of pizza did he remember he had been starving all day.

“Let me get a bite,” Jimin said as he reached down toward Yumi’s sandwich and, in turn, got his hand swatted at.

“Go get your own food, loser.”

As his lips turned up into a smirk, the sun shined down directly onto his face, making his nose ring glisten in the spring daylight.

“Fuck you,” he said, jumping down from the table and picking up his backpack.

“No, thanks. I don’t like little girls.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” After grabbing his drink, Jimin began walking away from the table, slipping his sunglasses onto his face as if he was some kind of pop star. “Aye!”

Yumi looked up from her sandwich and closed her mouth, which was preparing to take another bite. “What?”

“Did you ever get around to asking your brother if he wanted to come with us?”

A few weeks ago when the idea of throwing a party first came up, Jimin had suggested that Yumi ask her little brother to come along, too. 

Taehyung. 

The class nerd that had straight A’s, played tennis, and read books for fun.

“Taehyung? Kim Taehyung? The 11th grader? My little brother? Why would you want him to come hang with us,” Yumi asked in complete shock the day Jimin asked her about it.

Yumi’s friends, quite obviously, were not the straight A type. More like...straight C’s and D’s...and the occasional B from Jun or Yumi in subjects that a 6th grader could pass.

“I don’t know,” Jimin had said while he laid in the grass field of the park him and Yumi frequented, “we never invite him to go anywhere with us and every time I come over to your place, he’s always in his room studying something… Seems kinda boring, don’t you think?”

Yumi, who was lying down next to him, feet toward his head (she had kicked him in the face a few times “on accident”), sat up at his statement. A look of confusion and disbelief was on her face as she thought about what her best friend had just told her.

“Bro. Did you like...smoke or something before coming here? What you’re saying doesnt even make any sense. First of all, you hated my brother when you first met him in middle school and once we became friends you still picked on him. Now, all of sudden, you feel sorry for the dude? What the fuck Jimin.”

“Look,” he shouted and then huffed in frustration before continuing. “I’m not saying he’s my best friend. I’m just saying. It wouldn’t kill you to just ask him. All I want you to do is ask, okay? Jesus Christ.”

Squinting her eyes at him suspiciously, Yumi only shrugged and replied with a simple “Okay.”

“Yeah, I asked him,” she turned around and placed one leg on each side of the lunch bench and faced Jimin. “He said no.”

“Oh… Uh, okay cool. Later. You better come tonight.”

“Worry about yourself, Chim Chim.” As a reply, Jimin simply put up a peace sign as he walked away.

“Yumi!”

“What do you want, Tae? I’m kind of busy.” Yumi rummaged through her drawers as she searched for something to wear, throwing clothes all over her room.

“Have you seen my highlighters? ...And can you like, not change in front of me, please,” Taehyung said as he covered his glasses.

“No, I havent and calm down I have a bra on. Just turn around if it bothers you so much.”

“Ugh, okay. Thanks,” he said as he turned around to leave.

In the middle of tying her shoelaces, Yumi received a message.

Hey, sorry but i cant make it 2nite. stomach ache

From: The Dork™, 10:09 PM

“Hey, Tae! Come lock the door, I’ll be back later. Make sure you eat something besides graph paper and science textbooks,” she yelled up at Taehyung’s room before walking out.

Uh...why aren’t you coming?

From: Yumi , 10:26 PM

Damn r u blind or something? s t o m a c h a c h e

From: The Dork ™ , 10:28 PM

I saw the “stomach ache” but that’s bs and u know it

From: Yumi, 10:29 PM

so y dont u wanna go dude?

From: Yumi, 10:29 PM

idk just not feelin it

From: The Dork™ , 10:31 PM

K well I’ll drink a beer for u

From: Yumi , 10:33 PM

hav fun brooooo!1!!!!!!1111!!1!1

From: The Dork™ , 10:34 PM

-_-

From: Yumi , 10:35 PM

“Did you see Min when he tried to walk on water and almost drowned in the pool?” Yumi laughed when she pictured the look on his face once he got out. Fumbling with her keys she made her way upstairs, plopping down on her bed as soon as she could.

“I know!! It was crazy… Well, I’m gonna go grab some food. I might call you later tonight.” She nodded and hung the phone up, rubbing her belly while it grumbled.

Despite almost tripping three times while going downstairs, Yumi successfully made herself a gourmet meal called cereal. As she ate at the dining table, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a pair of black boots that looked awfully familiar to Jimin’s. Same color and everything.

Hm. That’s weird. 

Maybe he left them here last time he came, Yumi thought to herself. Placing her bowl in the kitchen sink, she began her retreat back up the stairs where she nearly face planted only once.

When u were here last week did u leave ur black boots?

From: Yumi , 3:29 AM

Opting to read his reply in the morning versus waiting for it, she locked her phone and threw it on the computer chair to the left of her. Just as she was about to fall asleep, eyes closed and snuggled up to her pillow, Yumi heard giggling coming from the room next door to her.

Taehyung’s room.

Tae, your cartoons seriously aren’t that funny shut the hell up and go to sleep, she mumbled to herself as she turned over and grabbed her blanket to cover her ears.

Rather than getting up the first time, Yumi decided to give him a chance to knock it off himself. The first time she didn’t say anything. The second time she didn’t say anything.

However, the third time… The third time she couldn’t help but growl in frustration as she sat up, pulled the blanket off of her, and made her way across the hall to her brother’s door. Without knocking, Yumi stormed into his room.

“Kim Taehyung! It’s like 4 o’clock in the fuc-”

She couldn’t tell if she was hallucinating at the moment, but she was positive she saw Taehyung, her little brother, and Jimin, her best friend, cuddling with each other on Taehyung’s bed.

“I… Am I insane or…”

Both Jimin and Taehyung looked beyond shocked as they stared wide-eyed at Yumi standing in the doorway, looking equally as shocked, if not more.

“Uh,” started Jimin as he cleared his throat and sat up in Taehyung’s bed, “well...you’re not insane…”

“Wait, wait, wait. You two are… You and him are… YOU DITCHED ME TONIGHT FOR HIM?!”

“Yeah… Sorry about that I would’ve told you b-”

“I can’t believe you guys kept this from me. How long has this even been going on,” Yumi asked, shifting the weight on her feet and crossing her arms over her chest.

“About six months, right,” Taehyung answered as he looked at Jimin, who was fiddling with the jewelry hanging from his lip (a nervous habit of his), for confirmation.

Scoffing at the situation and her own cluelessness, Yumi was still thoroughly speechless. For a few awkward, silent minutes, no one said anything. Taehyung and Jimin couldn’t help but stare at Yumi, who was clearing trying to make sense of the situation as she furrowed her eyebrows and bites at her nails while staring at the ground.

Her sigh is what breaks the thick, silent air.

“Look, I just came in here to tell you to shut up but, obviously, this,” she motioned toward Jimin and Taehyung, “wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“Yumi, we can expl-”

“First, there’s nothing to explain. The situation is pretty clear since most guys don’t hold hands and cuddle in each other’s bed unless there’s something going on. Second, your relationship doesn’t bother me, although I would’ve liked to know about it. I’m not mad at you,” she looks at Taehyung and then at Jimin, who she shoots a glare at, “...two.”

Yumi turned around to begin walking out of the room and stopped just before closing the door.

“And stop giggling so loud. Some people do enjoy sleeping,” she said and then closed the door after.

“...well, that d-”

“And good night, losers,” Yumi yelled across the hall before closing her bedroom door.

Masterlist | Requests: Open!

[adoredykelano]

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pairing: jasmine cephas-jones x reader

summary: reader and jasmine are long-time friends, who one day decide to hook up. no strings attached. it was a good idea in theory.

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, D/s, bondage, temperature play, a tiny bit of spanking, sex toys (? is that something i need to warn about i don’t even know), i vaguely mention a couple details about the movie “remember me” which deals with 9/11 so if you’re very sensitive to that this might not be for you. i don’t mention any real specifics about 9/11 itself but better safe than sorry if this is a topic that triggers you.

word count: 5,014

a/n: ah yes day two of the @hamwriters write-a-thon!! here this is my inbox is open for comments concerns complaints etc love u happy reading

The soft patter of rain on the window of your apartment fades into the background as you hit “play” on the remote. Friday night movie nights with your best friend are even better when it’s raining, so you’re perfectly content with the storm outside. You pull the fluffy blanket up to your chin and settle into the back cushion of the couch.

“Really?” Jasmine sighs as she walks into the living room, bowl of popcorn clutched against her chest. “You had to pick the saddest movie on Netflix?”

You roll your eyes and stick an arm out of your blanket, making a grabbing motion at the popcorn. “It isn’t the saddest movie on Netflix, and I’m not the one who decided that on movie nights we could only watch movies set in New York.”

“I don’t see how that is the issue here,” Jasmine hands you the popcorn and flops down on the couch next to you, sliding under the other side of the blanket. “There are plenty of movies set in New York, it’s not like I picked some obscure setting like Buffalo or Manitoba.”

“Okay, you don’t get to judge my movie choice. Last week you picked that terrible mid 2000’s chick-flick with a fortune teller in it.” You pick up a handful of popcorn and shove it very ungracefully into your mouth.

Jasmine lightly backhands your shoulder as she frowns at you. “Just My Luck is a gem!”

You raise an eyebrow, popcorn crunching between your teeth loudly.

“Okay, Chris Pine is a gem,” she rolls her eyes and veers her attention to the television.

A hush falls over the two of you as you get simultaneously sucked into the film, Robert Pattinson’s voice and the occasional shuffle of popcorn the only sounds to be heard.

“Oh that’s fucked up,” Jasmine muters when a classroom bully targets the main character’s sister.

“Poor baby,” you lament. “She didn’t even see it coming.”

Jasmine shifts closer to you, her legs draped over your lap.

“Comfortable?” You snicker, looking over at her face.

“Shh,” she scolds, eyes glued to the television. “Tyler’s about to- oh my God.”

You squint at her for a second before turning back to the movie. The silence returns, and eventually Jasmine’s head leans to rest on your shoulder.

“No,” you shout as the main character heads toward the window of the office building. “No, get out of there, Ally needs you, Caroline needs you!”

Your lip quivers as the shot zooms out, revealing that the building shown is the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

“Whatever you do in life will be insignificant, but it’s very important that you do it, because nobody else will,” Robert Pattinson’s voice narrates over the characters in the film looking distressed.

The screen fades to black and you sniffle, trying to hold in your tears.

“I told you this movie was a bad idea, [Y/N],” Jasmine says, holding back a smile, laughter playing in her eyes for a moment.

“You always have to swoop in with the ‘I-told-you-so,’ don’t you,” you mutter as tears start to pour down your cheeks. “I- fuck, what the fuck,” you wipe angrily at your face.

“Hey, are you- come here,” Jasmine’s eyes soften with concern as she places her hands on either of your cheeks. Her thumbs brush away the salt water trails and her stare locks onto yours.

“It’s just so sad and- God, I’m an idiot, it’s a fucking movie,” you laugh once, averting your eyes. “It’s just a movie- a very predictable movie, really. And I’m over here sobbing.”

“You’re not an idiot, you’re just...soft. It’s okay,” she murmurs. There’s a brief pause before she leans forward and presses a gentle peck to your forehead.

Your gaze flits back up to her, “W- what was that for?”

Jasmine drops her hands from your cheeks and shrugs. “Um- I don’t know. You just looked really sad,” she gives you a small smile. “I thought it might help. I read this article that said physical affection helps with feelings of sadness.”

“Well,” you laugh lightly and wipe the corners of your eyes, “thank you, then.”

Her eyes look down at your smile before looking back up to you, “No problem.”

You tilt your head almost imperceptibly, a little confused at her expression. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just- well…” she trails off, gaze darting around your face.

“Jazzy?” Your concern grows a little. You’ve known Jasmine a long time, and she isn’t usually at a loss for words. “Are you sure you’re-”

You’re cut off by her lips brushing timidly against your own. Your body reacts before your brain can register what’s going on, kissing her back with a bit more certainty. Your lips move together tenderly for a moment before the kiss becomes a bit more heated.

Jasmine’s hands find their way to your hair, tangling in the strands. You turn, angling your body more toward her while you grasp her hips, pulling her to straddle your lap.

Her tongue brushes gently against your lower lip, and you’re about to let your jaw drop open when your brain kicks in.

You pull back suddenly and look up at Jasmine. “W- wait, what’s-”

“Fuck, oh my God,” she shakes her head and quickly stands, feet getting tangled in the blanket momentarily, almost causing her to fall. “I should’ve asked first, that was- I don’t know what that was, I’m so sorry. What the fuck,” she mutters.

“I...I didn’t mind,” you say quietly, glancing up at her.

“You- what?” Jasmine asks incredulously.

“I said I didn’t mind,” you repeat, a bit louder this time. You stand and take the few steps it takes to reach her. “I mean, there’s no harm in two friends hooking up.”

“Are you...are you sure about this?” She asks, scanning for something in your face.

You smirk and put your hands on her waist, pulling her closer to you. “You’re my best friend, you’re hot as hell, we’re both single, and sex is fun. I don’t see what there is to be unsure about.”

“I thought you were dating Finn,” she squints at you.

“Fuck Finn,” you huff. “Finn, and Matthew, and Aaron, and however many other men I’ve been with who don’t give a fuck about me. This could be good,” you insist. “A detox from a long line of romantic and sexual tragedies.”

“Well…” Jasmine thinks for a moment before wrapping her arms behind your neck. “I think this could be the start of a beautiful thing, [Y/N].”

---

“Are you sure the rest of the cast don’t mind me crashing your bonding time?” You wonder, tugging your shirt back over your head.

“I’m positive,” Jasmine laughs as she shimmies into her skinny jeans. “You’ve been around the theater so much in the past few weeks that most people forget you’re not part of the cast, anyway.”

“Oops,” you snicker. You pull your ankle boots back on and zip them up.

“You’re not even sorry,” she tsks and shakes her head.

“Hard to be sorry when I have good reason to be here all the time,” you shrug.

“Oh? And what might that reason be?”

“It just so happens,” you begin, stalking toward her. “That my hot best friend is in the cast, and that they have an insatiable sexual appetite.”

Jasmine giggles, turning to fix her hair in the mirror. “I’ll tell Daveed to calm down, then.”

“Oh shut up,” you smirk at her. “Though, if you wanted to invite him I wouldn’t be opposed…”

“Right,” her smile falters briefly and she wipes the smudged lipstick from the corner of her mouth.

“You ready?” Daveed asks, peeking his head in through the door.

“Yeah,” Jasmine answers before you have a chance to. She grabs your hand and pulls you down the stairs and outside to the cab, where you settle in between Daveed and Jasmine.

“You look so hot tonight,” Daveed smirks, eyes raking over your figure.

“Thanks,” you blush lightly, fingers fiddling with the hem of your faux suede skirt. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, for an old man.”

He laughs heartily, head thrown back. “I’m not that much older than you, [Y/N].” His hand, once positioned on his own thigh, slides just a bit. His warm pinky grazes the exposed skin above your knee.

Daveed is a lot of things, among them being hot, kind, intelligent, and very talented. Subtlety, however, is not his strongest suit.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Jasmine mutters. She leans forward to look around you at Daveed. “I love you like a brother, Daveed, but if you’re just looking for someone to write more clipping songs about, pick someone that isn’t my best friend, mkay?”

Daveed smirks and raises his hands in surrender.

“Good boy,” Jasmine nods, flopping back against the leather seat.

You fish your phone out of your bag and send a quick message from the interior, not wanting Daveed to see the message.

Feeling a little bossy tonight, are we?

Jasmine looks at her phone and bites down lightly on her lower lip. Your phone buzzes a few seconds later.

Come home with me later and see.

The cab pulls up to the club before you have a chance to reply. Daveed takes one hand while Jasmine grasps the other, and you’re whisked inside past a sea of flashing cameras held by shouting men.

Daveed, the self appointed conductor of your daisy chain, steers the three of you toward the bar area where the rest of the cast is waiting.

“[Y/N]!” Pippa squeals, standing from the tall stool to throw her arms around you. “I missed you.”

You catch a whiff of tequila and stifle a laugh, patting her on the back. “I missed you too, angel. Even though it’s only been,” you glance at your watch, “an hour and a half.”

Pippa pulls back, a somber look on her face. “An hour and a half is much too long to be separated from my favorite person ever.”

You open your mouth to respond, but Pippa locks eyes with Daveed and squeals again.

“Daveed! I missed you!”

Jasmine shakes her head, laughing a little. She threads her fingers through yours and leads you to an open spot at the bar, leaning across the counter to order you a drink.

An amused grin spreads across your face as glance at her feet. She’s stretched up on her tiptoes to be tall enough to talk to the bartender.

“You know,” you remark as Jasmine hands you a vodka cranberry. “We’ve been friends since, what, freshman year of high school? And I still consistently forget how short you are.”

“Oh my God,” she huffs exasperatedly. “I get it, I’m short. You have this revelation every two months.”

You try to suppress your smile, sipping at your drink.

“You’re so annoying,” she groans, hopping up to sit on an empty barstool. “If you weren’t so good at eating me out I’d cut off all contact with you. Leave you a note saying I moved to Thailand to find myself or something.”

You laugh, nearly choking on your drink in the process. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Pippa forcing an astonishingly reluctant Oak out onto the dance floor. “Oh my God,” you turn to get a better glimpse of them. “Pippa is so...gone.”

“She’s a lightweight,” Jasmine says, setting her now empty glass on the countertop. “Anyway, dance with me?”

You down the rest of your drink and hop down from the barstool, holding out your hand for hers.

You’ve been dancing for a quite a while before the DJ starts a remix of a Rihanna song, which makes your eyes light up right away. ANTI had been the soundtrack to many of your escapades with Jasmine, so whenever a song plays you’re reminded of her. The two of you have taken to texting each other if a song from the album comes on when you’re not together.

Jasmine smirks, drawing your body impossibly closer to her. Your bodies move in sync, her hands finding your hips.

“What are you willing to do?” She sings teasingly, slotting her leg between your knees. “Oh, tell me what you’re willing to do?”

The flesh of your bottom lip sinks under your teeth as you tilt your head to the side, allowing her lips to press against your neck just under your ear.

“Kiss it, kiss it better baby.” Her hot breath fans out over your neck and you shiver slightly at the sensation, goosebumps trailing down your arms.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You tighten your grip on her waist, giving her a suggestive look.

“Depends,” she raises a brow at you.

“On what?”

“If you’re going to be good for me tonight,” she declares plainly.

“Shit,” your brain stops working for a moment and you blink a few times, surprised at her no-nonsense tone. “Fuck. Jasmine, I’ll be so good for you tonight, I promise.”

“I don’t know,” she laughs, letting go of your hips and weaving through the crowd with you. “The swearing isn’t very convincing, but I suppose you can have another try when we get back to my place.”

The wooden heels of your booties thump against the concrete as you make it outside, Jasmine hailing a cab.

“Your place, huh? What if I wanted to go to mine?”

“That would be too bad,” she turns to you with a mischievous look in her eyes as a taxi pulls up to the curb. “A surprise I ordered came in this morning, and I think you’d really love it. But if you want to go to your apartment instead…” she trails off as the two of you settle in the backseat.

“A surprise? What did you do?”

She turns lackadaisically to survey the busy street through the window. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

The two of you hurry through the lobby of her apartment building, navigating the three flights of stairs to her fourth floor walk-up.

“Fuck, I hate that you don’t have an elevator,” you sigh, leaning against the wall by the door.

Jasmine’s hand reaches out and swats gently at your backside, eliciting a shocked yelp from you. You clamp your hand over your mouth for a second before squinting at her.

“What was that for?” You whisper angrily, worried you’ve disturbed her neighbors.

“I told you no swearing,” she informs you coolly as she unlocks her front door. She makes a gesture to invite you inside when the door swings open and follows behind you.

“Sorry, ma’am,” you tease, rolling your eyes.

Jasmine raises both of her eyebrows as she drops her bag on the floor near the door. “Are you mocking me, baby doll?”

There’s a fire in her eyes and an edge in her tone that lets you know that she means business. You swallow harshly before responding, “No, ma’am. I’m sorry for swearing and disrespecting you.”

“As you should be.”

Your eyes are glued to her retreating figure before she spins on one heel to fix you with her gaze.

“I’ll call you when things are ready, and you’ll make your way into my room quickly. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you nod eagerly.

“Good girl,” she smirks, pushing the door closed behind her.

While you wait for further instructions, you set your bag down on the coffee table and lean against the back of the couch. You consider stripping down at least partially, but Jasmine hadn’t told you to do so and you’d tested her enough for one night.

“[Y/N],” she calls. You stand quickly, nearly running down the hall and into the bedroom.

Jasmine is standing at the foot of her bed, a red lace teddy just barely covering her body and a black satin blindfold clutched in her hand. You sweep your eyes up and down her body, taking in the strappy lingerie and the black lace thigh highs before tearing your gaze away to look around the room. You gasp as you take it in.

She’s covered the top of her dresser in flickering candles and-

“Is that a...”

“A steel suspension bar? Why yes,” she props a hand on her hip, a smug look on her face. “Yes it is.”

“You remembered?” You stare at up at it wistfully, judging the distance from the bar to the floor.

“Of course I did. How could I forget my baby doll admitting that she’s always wanted to try standing bondage?”

You feel heat creep onto your cheeks as you continue to stare at the steel bar.

“Now, why don’t you be a good little toy for me and strip?”

Without hesitation, you follow her order. You slip your feet out of your shoes and unbutton the top of your skirt, letting it fall to the floor. The white blouse joins the pile of discarded clothing, leaving you in just your pale pink bra and panties.

“As much as I love that color on you, I meant all the way.” Jasmine takes a few steps forward to center herself in front of you.

You nod and slide your panties down your legs, tossing them and your bra into the pool of clothes.

Jasmine holds up the blindfold, but makes firm eye contact with you. “Before we go any further, what’s your safe word?”

“Pattinson,” you give her a sly smile.

“Very good.” She closes the short distance and wraps the blindfold over your eyes, moving around to stand behind you and tying it gently.

“Since we’re not actually suspending you, these are the normal cuffs that you’re familiar with,” Jasmine explains as she fastens them to your wrists.

She jerks your left arm upward and you hear the clinking of metal on metal, and then her warm hands disappear from your skin. She speedily repeats her motions with the other arm, leaving you with both of your arms held above your head.

You tug lightly, testing the strength of your restraints.

Jasmine pulls you back against her, her hands roaming the expanse of your abdomen before reaching up to knead at your breasts. As soon as you get accustomed to the feeling of her body pressed against your back, she’s gone.

You’re dazed by her absence for only a moment and then her lips find yours, hands tugging lightly at your hair. Your tongues tangle together before she breaks away, lips, teeth, and tongue grazing over your neck. Her hand slips down, fingers ghosting over your slit as she sucks a hickey onto your collarbone.

She disappears again and you let out a small whimper, hips bucking forward to search for contact.

“Now, now,” she slaps your ass, a hint of laughter in her voice. “You’ll take what I give you and be thankful.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply meekly. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. You’re so good to me.”

“I am,” she affirms, fingers crawling over your hip.

A cold sensation presses into the skin between your shoulder blades and you gasp, jumping slightly, your arms jerking against the restraints. Jasmine trails what you soon recognize as an ice cube down your spine, dropping a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

The ice cube resurfaces on your left nipple, then your navel before returning to your right and goosebumps shimmer over your chest at the chill.

There’s another moment of breathless anticipation, your mind racing with thoughts of what might happen next. You inhale sharply as her fingers dip easily inside of you, still chilled from the ice cube.

You moan as she thrusts two digits into you, her thumb pressing against your clit.

“You like that, baby doll? Does that feel good?” Jasmine purrs into your ear.

“Yes, ma’am,” you whimper while she picks up speed. “Feels so good.”

She hums lightly, continuing her ministrations. Your knees begin to tremble as your orgasm starts to build in the pit of your stomach. You let your head fall back, a loud moan tearing from your throat. You feel your thighs twitch, signalling that you’re incredibly close to coming- you’re so close you can taste it.

And then her fingers are gone.

“Wh-” You begin to question, but then she’s behind you, removing your blindfold.

“You’ve had your fun,” she sashays over to the end of her bed, settling on the edge of the mattress. At some point she’d removed her lingerie, leaving her in just the black thigh highs. “It’s my turn, now.”

A quiet hum fills the air as she switches on a sleek black vibrator, lounging backward onto the bed while she does so. She runs her tongue around the tip of the toy before dragging it over her breasts, giving attention to her nipples. Her head falls back as she moans softly, her hair fanning out on the duvet behind her.

You’re captivated by her movements, completely enthralled as she trails the vibrator down her abdomen and over her clit. Jasmine gasps faintly, her other hand reaching up to paw at her breast.

You don’t realize you’re trying to reach out for her until you hear the jingling of the metal chains, your eyes snapping up to the restraints.

“Eager to please, are we?”Jasmine smirks at you before slipping the toy into herself, eliciting a mewl from her lips.

“Please, ma’am,” you whimper, eyes raking over her body. “Please, please, I just want to make you feel so good. With my mouth, with my hands, however you want me to, whatever you want from me. Please, I need to touch you.”

“Mm,” she hums, tilting her head at you. “I suppose if you’re so desperate for me to use you…”

“So desperate,” you agree quickly, nodding. “So desperate, please let me make you feel good, please use me ma’am.”

Jasmine turns off the vibrator and stands, setting it down as she makes her way over to unbind your wrists. You quickly put your arms around her waist, pulling her close to kiss her passionately.

When you finally wake up the next afternoon, Jasmine is already gone. You stretch and roll out of bed, heading into the bathroom where there’s a sticky note attached to the mirror.

Sorry I had to leave early, had a yoga class early this morning. Last night was amazing. Coffee in the pot is fresh, there are pancakes in the fridge to be heated up.

You shrug and continue about your morning, showering and borrowing a pair of leggings and a sweater from Jasmine’s dresser. Padding out into the kitchen, you warm up your food and flop down onto the couch, catching up on your Twitter feed as you eat.

You nearly choke, eyes bugging out of your head when you see an article linked in your mentions.

‘Hamilton’ Star Steps Out with Longtime Friend—Or Are They More?

Jasmine Cephas-Jones, known best for originating the roles of both Peggy Schuyler and Maria Reynolds in the Broadway smash-hit Hamilton, was seen entering a nightclub in Hell’s Kitchen after last night’s show holding hands with none other than longtime friend [Y/N]. Patrons of the club say the two were very close, dancing only with each other the entire night.

Our inside source insists that the gal pals look at each other with “undeniable fondness in their eyes,” and notes “They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They have indisputable heat and chemistry between them.”

You read the article twice, scrolling back to the top of the page to look at the picture of you and Jasmine outside the club. You copy the link and attach it to a message.

To: Jasmine — 11:47 AM

Lol look at this.

From: Jasmine — 11:50 AM

I’ve already seen it. I’m sorry.

To: Jasmine — 11:51 AM

Sorry about what? It’s hilarious. They think we’re in looooove.

From: Jasmine — 12:14 PM

Right, haha. Hilarious.

To: Jasmine — 12:16 PM

Anyway, today’s a two show day, right? Want me to bring dinner...and dessert? ;)

From: Jasmine — 12:32 PM

Nah, don’t come. I’m tired today. Think I’m just gonna nap between shows.

To: Jasmine — 12:34 PM

Are you okay?? When have you EVER been too tired for me to go down on you?

From: Jasmine — 12:47 PM

I’m just tired, okay? I have to go warm up for the show. I’ll talk to you later.

To: Jasmine — 12:48 PM

Alright, break a leg!!

You click the tv off and go back to Jasmine’s bedroom, gathering your clothes from the night before. It isn’t like Jasmine to tell you not to come to the theater, even if she’s tired and doesn’t want to have sex. You’ve spent a lot of time at the Richard Rodgers with her, eating and laughing and just having fun.

Something is off, and you’re not sure what. Could that article really have made her feel that awkward? They called you “gal pals,” for Christ’s sake. Gal pals. The two of you have often joked about the entire “gal pal” concept and how ridiculously heteronormative the mainstream media is. And now a stupid article is making her clam up because she feels weird that a couple people in the comments think you’re dating?

If Jasmine’s tired, you don’t want to leave a mess for when she comes home. You straighten up the bedroom, shoving your clothes into your bag and making the bed. When you’re done with the bedroom, you move to the living room and toss your bag on the couch, before marching into the kitchen to wash the few dishes that are stacked in the sink.

You make sure all the lights are turned off and you leave, heading back to your own place.

---

Jasmine doesn’t return any of your texts or phone calls for the next three days, leaving you no option but to show up at the theater to talk to her. You can understand being busy, but she’s never been so busy that she doesn’t have time to text you back. You’re best friends, after all.

Something’s not right.

“[Y/N],” Daveed beams when you walk in the back door. “It’s been too long since I saw your bright shining face around the Richard Rodgers.”

“Hey, Daveed,” you give him a small smile. “Yeah, it’s been a while. Have you seen Jasmine?”

“Dressing room,” the stage manager says from behind Daveed.

“Thanks Jason,” you dash up the stairs and knock on the dressing room door.

Renée’s eyes scan your face as she opens the door. She looks back at Jasmine and over to Pippa.

“Pip?” She remarks. “Let’s give them a minute.”

Pippa gives Jasmine a look and Jasmine responds with a curt nod. The two other girls file out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

“Uh, hey,” Jasmine smiles pitifully at your before turning to the mirror, fingers fiddling with her hair.

“What’s up? Where’ve you been?”

“Nothing’s up,” she defends too quickly. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy?” You laugh, shaking your head.

“Is that so unbelievable to you?” She turns toward you, fire in her eyes.

“You’re never too busy for me, Jasmine. You’re always there. You texted me in the middle of your fucking Hamilton audition!”

“I have a life outside of our friendship, you know.” She snaps.

You can’t do anything but stare at her for a moment, speechless.

Jasmine turns back to the mirror, pulling the top half of her hair back.

“What happened? Something happened, Jasmine, and I need to know what.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but you know she can hear you.

“Nothing happened,” she says coolly. “Like I said, I’ve just been busy.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl.

She whips her head around to glare at you, “It’s the truth.”

“No it isn’t,” you insist. “Tell me what happened.”

Jasmine doesn’t say anything, but you swear you can see her fingers shaking.

“Tell me, Jasmine. Tell me why everything changed.”

“Because I fell in love with you!” Her hands fly up to fist in her own hair.

Your heart stops and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t have heard her right. There’s no way.

“You- you what?”

She hangs her head, wringing her trembling hands together. “I fell in love with you. And I know this wasn’t supposed to be- this isn’t anything. I know that.”

You don’t say anything, you can’t. This is too much for you to process.

“That’s why everything changed,” she confesses. “And after your reaction to that article, I knew you didn’t feel the same. I just needed some time.”

“You’ve always been able to tell me everything,” you shake your head. “Time? Why did you need time? You could’ve told me. We could’ve worked through this together, and instead you-”

“Instead I tried to respect your feelings?” She chuckles darkly. “Are you really blaming me for that? This isn’t your battle, [Y/N]. If you don’t feel the way that I do, that’s not your fault.”

“You should’ve just fucking told me! I could’ve helped you get over this-”

“How? How would you have done that? I’m trying, isn’t that enough for you?”

“I-” you shake your head. “I don’t know. This wasn’t supposed to go like this. This was supposed to be fun and easy, just sex, no strings attached.”

“You know what, [Y/N]? I’m sorry I fucked up so badly,” she huffs, taking a few steps toward you.

“You didn’t-”

“No, let me finish,” she cuts you off. “I’m sorry I wasn’t what you wanted. I am. So why don’t you just go find someone who is what you wanted?”

You furrow your brow. “What?”

“Jesus,” she shouts in frustration. “Just, go fuck Daveed or something! Go back to fucking people who don’t give a shit about you, okay? I don’t even care anymore.”

Your gaze follows her and she strides behind you. She yanks the door open.

“Jasmine-” you call out, but it’s too late. The door slams behind her and you’re left alone in the middle of the dressing room.

[sethmacsexy20]

The Heart Wants What The Heart Wants Unbearable Pain

Days went by, Monica held herself and Nick up in a hotel suite.  She wasn't ready to face the world.  She was in pain.  But she had to remain strong for her son.  But the pain was unbearable.   Didn't help Seth kept trying to call her.  Every ounce of her wanted to answer but she remember what he did and would ignore his calls.  She was lost.  On the one hand, she loved Seth but on the other, she was deeply hurt.  She felt so confused.  She sat next to her son on the couch, one afternoon, watching a movie.  Her phone rang.  She exhaled as she picked it up, expecting to see Seth's name on there.  She looked at it to see Rachael's name.  She hesitated, then finally picked up.   "Hello?"  

"Monica.  Jesus!  What is going on?"

"Seth told you."  She breathed.

"Well, he told me you took Nick and left.  That you left him.  That it was his fault but wouldn't tell me what happened."  

"It's a long story."

"Did you really leave Seth?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Rachael, I do not want to pull you in this.  Seth is your brother."

"Jesus, it must be bad.  You making it sound like whatever happened might put Seth in a negative light."  Monica only exhaled as she didn't couldn't find the words.  "Fuck, that bad."  Rachael breathed on the phone.   "Look, I just saw him and he is a complete fucking mess.  He won't tell me what happen. I need someone to fill me in on why I saw my brother the way he was.   Why he is in the current state he is in."

"Fine. I'll tell you."  Monica breathed.  "But I rather it be face to face.   If I tell you where I am, you have to swear to me you will not tell Seth where I am as I still need time."

"I swear."  Rachael quickly replied.

"Okay, and come after nine, I want to make sure Nick is asleep.  He doesn't need to hear this."

"Okay, I will."

Monica quickly told her where she was and hung up.

After nine, there was a knock on the suite door.  Monica answered it and Rachael stood on the other side.  Quickly, Rachael rushed in and hugged Monica.  When they pulled away, she asked, "How are you?"

Monica shook her head as she was far from okay.  Monica closed the door and they walked over to the couch.  They sat down.  Rachael quickly jumped at it.  "What the hell happened?"

"Rachael, last think I want to do is pull you in the middle of it.  I have a feeling this is going to get much uglier before it finally gets better."  She told her.

"I don't care."

"He's your brother and I'm..."

She cut Monica off.  "You are family, Monica."

"I hope you still feel that way after everything?"  She said in sadness.

"Tell me what happened?"

"Rachael, it is bad."

"How bad?"

"Real bad."

"What the hell happened, Monica.  I mean, you left Seth.  I knew you two were having issues, but I didn't think it would get this far."

"We actually fixed those issues, go figure."

Rachael was confused.  "Then what the hell?"

Monica looked down at her hands.  She began to cry.  Tears flowed as she said, softly, "He cheated on me."

"What?!"  Rachael was shocked.  "Seth?"  Monica nodded.  "Are you sure?  I mean, Seth?  He would never..."

Monica cut her off. "It came out of his own mouth.  He said he did.  He fully admitted it."

"Jesus fucking Christ."  Rachael breathed as she sat back on the couch as the news was overwhelming.  Then looked at Monica as she sympathized.  "How are you?"  She asked her sincerely.

Monica looked at her as tears continued to flow.  "Like my heart was torn out of my chest."   She began to cry harder.  For the first time since she left, the pain took over as she let it out.  "Why would he do this, Rachael?  Why would he destroy our family?  Why would he hurt me like that?"  Monica sobbed out.

Rachael quickly hugged her.  "I don't know, Monica."  She breathed.  "I'm so sorry you are going through this."

Monica cried in Rachael's arms.  Her heart hurt so bad.  And leaving Seth was one of the hardest things she ever did.

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Monica was driving back to her suite as she made a huge step that broke her heart more.  But she felt it was the right thing to do.  She was still off work, she was grateful for that.  Working would be too difficult at this point.  But she did something that was more difficult, hire a lawyer.  After seeing Rachael a few days prior, she felt as she let the pain come out for the first time, she knew that she couldn't forgive Seth.  Her heart hurt to much to forgive him.  She didn’t know any other way at this point as she didn't see them getting past what happened.  As she was driving, her phone rang.  Her screen on the phone showed it was Rachael.  She answered as she said, "Hey, Rachael."

She heard Rachael's voice through the speakers of her car.  "Hey, Monica.  Can I talk to you about something?"

"What?"

"Can you please talk to Seth?"

She gulped at the sound of his name as her heart beat faster.  "Rachael, I can't."

"Monica, he is a mess.  He hasn't gone to work.  He has locked himself away in the house.  He is not taking care of himself.  I understand if you cannot forgive him but you need to talk to him about this.  You haven't spoken to him since you found out.  He needs to talk to you, maybe you can convince him to get his shit together.  I was just over there and god, Monica, he really is a fucking mess.  At least talk to him."

"If I do, he will be hurt even more.  I am not going back.  I cannot forgive him.  What he did is unforgivable.  If he is really in a bad state, then I am sure what I will have to say will only push him off the deep end."

"Or give him closure he needs, I mean, if you really feel that way.  And for some reason, he only listens to you.   Maybe you can convince him to keep going with his life as much as it sucks.  Please, talk to him."

She exhaled.  "Fine."  She gave in.

"Thank you."  Rachael said, sincerely.  "I'll let you go.  Bye, Monica."

"Bye."  She hung up the call.

She stopped at a red light and quickly went through her phone to find Seth's name.  She went to push it to call him and stopped.  She pulled her finger away.  She put the phone down and put her hand back on the stirring wheel.  The light turned green and she drove off.  She thought about it for a moment and muttered, "Fuck it."

She quickly made a u-turn.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A little while later, Monica pulled up to the home she once shared with Seth.  She looked at the house and felt slightly overwhelmed as the last time she was there was when she packed her things and left.  She got out of the car and walked up to the door  She turned the doorknob and found it unlocked  She pushed it open and stepped in.  She looked around as she walked around.  The house was a mess.  She moved around in the disarray.  She got to the living room and found Seth passed out on the couch.  She walked over to the couch and looked down at him.  She looked around.  She saw empty beer bottles and glass cups on the coffee table.   She knew he probably passed out drunk.  She saw the remote for the stereo and picked it up  She cranked the volume up and then turned it on as the music blared loudly through the speakers.  Seth jumped from the sudden noise, then groaned annoyed.  Monica turned it off.  He didn't even look at her.  "Fuck, Rachael!  Can I have one day?"

"It's not Rachael, Seth."  Monica only said.

Seth quickly looked over at her, almost in disbelief.  "Monica."  He breathed.

He sat up on the couch and just stared at her.  He thought he might be dreaming.  She put the remote back on the table.  He just kept looking at her.  "Fuck, Seth.  This place is mess."  She said as she looked around.  Then at him.  "You're a mess."

"I'm glad you are here."  Seth said, softly.

She exhaled and looked away from him.  "Don't read too much into this.  I am here cause your sister is concern, which in turn makes me concern.  I had to see for myself.  And you are in worse shape then I thought."

"So, you still care?"  He asked.

"God, Seth, I will always care about you."  She told him as she looked at him.  

Sadness went over his eyes, "I'm sorry, Monica."

"Seth, don't.  I just...I can't deal with that.  Look, you need to get it together and clean yourself and this place up.  Nick still needs a father."

"Can we at least talk?"

"There is nothing to talk about."

"Just let me explain."

"There is no explanation in the world that could justify what you did."

"Monica, this is killing me."

"Killing you, Seth?"  She began to get anger.  "How do you think I feel?  You cheated on me.  Slept with another woman.  And to top it off, you get to go off the deep end and let your life go to shambles while I have to keep my shit together for Nick.  You hurt me in the most painful way, and yet, you fall apart.  Do you know how bad I wish I could lay in bed and cry all day?  How much I want to disappear from the world and fall apart?  But I can't, I have to put on a brave face for Nick and move forward!  The only person who is allowed to fall apart is me!  But I'm not!  Now get your shit together, Seth!  Only person you can blame is yourself!"  Tears fell from her eyes.

Seth looked away, ashamed.  "I wish I could take it all back.  You don't deserve to be hurt like that."

She stood there and looked down as tears continued to fall.  "But you can't, Seth."  She breathed.  "What's done is done.  Nothing can change that."

Seth stood up and asked, softly, "Is there anything..."

"No." She looked at him as she cut him off.

"Monica, it was a horrible mistake."  He started to sob.

"No, Seth!  A mistake is burning dinner.  A mistake is forgetting our anniversary.  But sleeping with another woman, you knew what you were doing!  You know what would happen!"

"Please, tell me what I can do, baby."

"Don't."  She stopped him.  "You don't get to call me that.  You lost that right."

She turned and started to walk away.  He quickly raced after her and grabbed her hand.  "Please."  He choked out.  "I love you, Monica."

She did stop but she didn't turn to him.  She could hear the pain and anguish in his voice and knew he did still love her.  She closed her eyes as more tears slipped past.  She opened them as she slowly turned to him and moved closer to him.  She placed her forehead on his.  She closed her eyes again as tears continued to slid down her cheeks.  "I love you too."  She choked out.  "So much.  But I cannot forgive you for this, Seth."  She pulled away from him and tears fell from his eyes as he lost contact.  "Last think I want, Seth, is for any one of us to be in anymore pain."  She looked away for a moment as she licked her lips. She looked back at him.  "So, what I am about to say is just going to be so much harder.  But I don't want to blindside you.  I hired a lawyer today.  I'm filing for a divorce, Seth."

He shot his eyes at her and choked out, "No!"

She cupped his cheek and looked at him as tears fell.  "I'm so sorry, Seth."  She really didn't want to hurt him anymore then he was, regardless, what he did.  She did care about him and loved him.  She couldn't bare to watch what would happen next as she knew the news would tear him apart.  So, she quickly left.  But before she got out of the house, she heard him sob out, loudly, "Please, don't leave me!"

His voice was filled with so much pain.  It shattered her heart to hear it and she cried harder.  She ran out of the house and got into her car.   She sat behind the stirring wheel, sobbing.  This was the beginning of the end.  She knew her heart would break more before it would finally start healing.  But she didn't know if she could take anymore pain.  If either of them could.  Seth was her only love and now they were getting a divorce.  Her heart ached as she knew the man inside was probably having a complete meltdown and there was nothing she could do to fix it, not the way he would want her to.  She finally calmed her sobs as she started the car and quickly drove off.

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