#say what you want but those last 10 minutes are PURE GOLD

[rummikubcube]

No because she didn’t think. You can clearly see the shock in her face when she realised what she did, SHE UNLOCKED HER INNER NEUMAN WITHOUT MEANING TO JUST TO SAVE JORDAN DONT TALK TO ME I’M NOT OKAY.

[kittyofalltrades]

Office Hours

You get invited to a Frat party, but Professor Grant just might have something to say about it.

CO-WRITTEN WITH @welcometostayingawake

This is the brainchild of Mona and I. We had this bad boy outlined and started in 10 minutes flat. Nothing but shameless self indulgence and filth...

Words: 4210 of pure filth

Rating: Explicit 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Beta: both of us this time @welcometostayingawake

Warnings: Power imbalance (professor/student), Age gap (READER IS OF AGE), Profanity, Oral (f rec), PinV, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it before you tap it)

Your Friday evening Egyptian Civilizations lectures with Professor Grant were always your favorite. He was brilliant at his job, captivating the class to make you feel as though you were actually there, experiencing the Gods and Pharaohs for yourself. It didn’t hurt that the man was gorgeous; salt and pepper mop of messy curls on his head, leather satchel sitting on broad shoulders and a pair of gold wire glasses to top off the look. His tweed blazer paired with one of his many neutral cable knit sweaters added to his academic charm while he paced across the classroom, rambling about bartering for the Gods. The thought of how he might smell if you were to press your nose into his sweater made you smile at him as he passed by handing you a paper marked with another perfect grade. 

Steven smiled back at you as he handed out the papers. You, his favorite student, as brilliant as him in matters of Ancient Egyptian culture, made his heart pitter patter in a forbidden rhythm. You, always so effortlessly beautiful in your cozy, large sweaters and shapely leggings, pointing out inconsistencies in the homework to him. Then there was that one time you’d come to see him late one evening, dropping by his office with questions about the paper he had just assigned. He had to ask you to repeat yourself after taking in your out of place short skirt and fitted turtleneck. You ended up admitting that your out of place outfit and random drop-in was due to a failed date. He thought you looked absolutely lovely. You always answered his questions during class, exchanging small secret smiles between the two of you. Even turning down party invitations to have him check over your work during his office hours, sometimes bringing him pastries in thanks. You truly were his best student and you should stay that way. 

Once the papers were distributed, Professor Grant called out the next assignment and dismissed the class in a flurry of bags and papers. As per tradition, you gathered your things and gave him a wave before heading to the door at the back of the hall, but instead running straight into Tanner. Tall, handsome, belongs to a fraternity but comes from a small town Tanner. He was in a group project with you for this course and didn’t seem too bad, at least compared to his fraternity brothers. A fraternity known for boisterous parties, the likes of which you avoided like the plague. 

“Oof! Oh, Tanner. Hi, sorry about that,” you told him with a soft smile as you righted your footing.

“Hey, just the girl I wanted to see,” he told you with a charming smile.

Just the girl he wanted to see? Why? You had a reputation of rejecting the frat boys and if it was classwork related he could have emailed you. You cocked your head to the side and narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. What the hell did he want?

“So Professor Grant’s last assignment, it sounds like it’s gonna be tough. A whole ass research paper on any other God besides Khonshu because we’ve already covered him in class and he holds a special place in his heart,” Tanner laughed.

“Yeah Khonshu is too easy anyway,” you commented, not liking how he was lining up his shot. 

“So I was thinking you could come back to my place tonight and we could work on it together?” Tanner ventured.

Those words made Steven look up from the papers he was shoving in his leather satchel. He saw you with Tanner, his second best student, standing entirely too close to you, grinning wolfishly down at you from the step above and it made his blood boil. Slimy git. 

“Isn’t it against fraternity rules to waste a Friday night studying? Your frat bros are going to be partying,” you pointed out. 

“Maybe you could join me for the party after we do some research together,” Tanner offered, running his hands down your arm.

You considered it for a second. Tanner didn’t seem like the worst. He hadn’t made any lewd passes at you like some of the other guys and seemed respectable enough. You opened your mouth to accept his offer when Professor Grant stormed past you two in a flurry, drawing your attention away from Tanner completely. 

“My office in 10 minutes,” he ordered in a clipped tone. The way he spoke worried you but also sent a shiver down your spine. 

Steven turned and swiftly headed to his office in an attempt to calm himself down before he did something drastic. Like failing Tanner for hitting on you, or rather, push him down the stairs for groping your arm. 

“You should watch out for him, he gives me weird vibes,” Tanner said once Professor Grant turned a corner. 

You rolled your eyes, it was just Professor Grant. He was always a perfect gentleman with you. Even when you’d shown up out of the blue after a miserable dating attempt, he’d kept his eyes either on the laptop screen or on your eyes, not once straying to the large expanse of skin you had on display. You often mused that when you graduated, you were going to ask him out if he was still single. In these little daydreams, he was usually being a lot less respectful with you, but you doubted your attraction was reciprocated. 

“I don’t think he gives weird vibes. He’s always been nothing but nice to me,” you respond with a shrug. Professor Grant was actually one of the most polite faculty  members, if you thought about it.

“No, really,” Tanner insisted. “He’s always looking at you like you’re the only one in the room. And he’s always smiling when you ask questions. The day you were out sick he was in a terrible mood and I swear he kept glancing at your usual seat.” 

You listened to Tanner’s theories in amusement. That simply could not be true. 

“And you’re the top of the class,” Tanner finished smugly. 

That made the amused smile slide off your face. “You think I’m top of the class only because Professor Grant likes me? You're delusional.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he backpedaled. “It’s just he’s clearly got a thing for you! Be careful. Better yet let me go with you to his office. I’ll prove it,” he reached to take your bag from you but you physically recoiled.

“No thanks. I don’t think I need your help proving anything. See you around.” 

You shifted your bag on your shoulder and hurried to Professor Grant’s office arriving with a minute to spare, knocking on the door and hearing him grunt for you to enter. Pushing the door open, you hesitate in the doorway when you find Professor Grant behind his desk staring at you with a dark look in his eyes. He’s leaning back with his fingers tented, giving you a delicious view of him. You drop your bag by the small couch and walk to the end of his desk with a tentative smile, hoping to ease the anger you still feel rolling off of him.

“Well, do you want to explain what the hell that was?”

“What?” You let out, genuinely confused.

“Your little chat with Tanner,” Steven growled, unable to control the anger slipping through his voice. “You’re going to his little frat party? Going to study together?”

“I haven’t really thought much about it.” You lie, to cover up the end of the conversation that you’d really rather not share. 

“Are you trying to drive me mad? Tease me with the idea of you going out with somebody else…fucking somebody else?”

“I-I didn’t mean to tease you, Professor. I was just being nice.” Wait, what was that? 

That made Steven laugh sardonically, “You were just ‘being nice’? I’ve seen you brutally reject so many others who have tried. But you were just being nice today, right?”

“I’m sorry, Professor.” you hang your head in shame. You had disappointed him and you knew it. Maybe he knew Tanner wasn’t a nice guy and you didn’t want him to think any less of you. 

“If you were doing it to get my attention, good job sweetheart, you’ve definitely got it now.”  

The words made you snap your head up from where you were distractedly dancing your fingers on his desk to find a dark smile settled on his plush, pink lips.

“My favorite student has no business with the likes of people like that,” he muttered while he unfolded himself from the chair. 

“What do you mean, Professor?” you asked softly. This was a side of him you’d never dealt with before and you were treading on dangerous territory.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Good girls aren’t meant to be used by boys who don’t know what they’re doing.” You were gaping at him, you were sure of it.

“They won’t know what to do with you, they won’t know how to take care of you. Not like I do,” he continued, walking around his desk, encouraged by your silence. “By the time I’m done fucking your pretty little pussy it’ll be molded to the shape of my cock and nobody else will be good enough for you.” He finished with lips inches from yours, earning a gasp from you. 

Pulling you by your hands to come around the desk, pushing you to sit in front of his chair, he sits back down and trails his eyes over your body. 

“Undress for me, love,” Steven orders, quietly but with undeniable authority. 

You want this. You’ve wanted this for so long, so you strip out of your oversized sweater and leggings leaving you standing in your pink lacy bra and panties. You’re suddenly grateful to your morning self for choosing a semi-matching set. Another nod from him has you unhooking it from behind your back with shaking hands, and discarding your panties as well, blushing heavily as his eyes glued to the newly revealed skin. 

“On the desk, please. I want to get a good look at my beautiful girl.”

You wordlessly climb up onto his cold desk, ignoring the papers that get scattered, leaning back with your hands to spread your legs for him,  arousal dripping down your thighs. You never thought you’d be in this position with your professor but the way Steven ran his tongue over his lips slowly before reaching up and pulling off his gold rimmed glasses had you near trembling in anticipation. He took his time folding the legs down and securing them in a side drawer before leaning forward between your legs, hands pushing your thighs apart with a firm grip. 

Steven looked up at you from between your legs, licking slowly from your slit upward.  He groaned as your slick coated his tongue, filling his mouth with the tangy taste of girl. Steven focused on your clit, experimenting between flicking his tongue and then sucking on the small bundle of nerves to see which you liked best, sending jolts of pleasure through you. Your hand flew to grip his salt and pepper curls while you let loose your first moan. 

Steven grinned against your cunt and pulled back to look at you properly and you whimpered at the loss. He didn’t disappoint though, slowly inserting one finger at first, then at your gasp inserting a second to join the first. Fucking you on his fingers with more force with every little breathy noise you made, he watched as your chest began to rise and fall quickly. 

Delicately rubbing your clit with his thumb, Steven drove you to the very edge of orgasm before slowing down, leaving you pulsing on the drag of his fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you were worried about how loud you were being, but it was all fuzzy at this point. Now this was his favorite part; curling his fingers to reach that spongy spot on your inner walls, slowly rubbing it to make you let out a shuddering whine.

“Who do you belong to?” Steven asked softly. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

You tried to form words through the haze of pleasure but you couldn’t focus. The only thing you could think of was the drag of his fingers in and out of your core. Stretching and filling you and still somehow not enough. You needed more. 

“I said, ‘who do you belong to’?” he demanded again, pumping his fingers with more force. 

You babbled out an answer, not knowing what you said, not caring if the words made sense at this point. Something along the lines of “professor” and “please”. You were so close to cumming, he was rubbing your g-spot and clit in tandem and you just needed a little push. 

“Tell me who you belong to or I’ll stop,” Steven threatened, and you could feel his  fingers gliding over your sweet spot just right, igniting the fire in your veins. 

“You! Youuuuu, Professor,” you shouted as your orgasm hit you, leaving you mentally drifting away from your body. 

Steven pressed a final kiss to your clit, stuck his fingers in his mouth and licked them clean as he stood up, the unmistakable shape of his cock bulging out of his trousers. He pulled off his blazer and sweater, throwing them on the chair behind him. He smiled as your eyes raked over his smooth and toned chest, your fingers grazing the thin trail of hair to where it disappeared into his pants. 

“See something you like?”  

You nodded quickly in your dazed state. 

“You wanna touch me? Think you’ve earned it?” He leaned in as he was speaking, eyes trained on yours.

You wanted to see all of him, to see if your daydreams measured up to the real thing. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth watching while he made quick work of his belt and pants, shyly looking up at him through your lashes. He left his boxers on rubbing his hand over the tent made by his hard cock.

“Say please.”

“Please Professor, I want to see your cock.”

“Good girl, my good girl,” Steven praised and rewarded you by pushing his boxers down, revealing himself hanging hard and heavy between his legs. He plunged his fingers into your cunt again suddenly, making you jump, gathering some of your juices to smear them over his cock before stroking himself gently. He relished in the way your eyes followed the motion of his hand. He was by no means small and he was about to give you every inch he had.

He nudged your legs further apart and stepped between them, this time pressing his lips against yours in a  forbidden kiss. To be fair, this whole evening was forbidden but neither of you seemed to be in the right mind to stop. You leaned into him, coaxing his tongue out with yours, while he gripped your jaw tilting your head for better access. He pulled away for air with a small, satisfied sigh, leaving you breathless. 

“Do you want me to keep going?” He asked softly, nudging his prominent nose against yours.

“Yes, please,” you breathed out softly, kissing him once more. 

That was all that he needed to hear to continue his torment. He tapped his cock against your clit drawing a high pitched whimper from you. 

“Beg me for it.”

“Please, professor. Please, I need you to f-fuck me. I’ll be good, I promise,” you rambled to him. 

“Say it.” He spread your folds apart to push the tip of his cock into you and stopped, the action earning him a lewd moan. “Who do you belong to?” Steven was feeling possessive tonight and was desperate to stake his claim. 

“You, professor, only you.” You wouldn’t deny him this. Not when he was only partially lodged inside you. 

Steven’s eyes never left your face as he pushed in further, slowly, inch by inch, crawling into you until you felt like you were splitting at the seams.

“You’re too big, Professor,” You cried out. Sure, you saw his cock but you didn’t really stop to think how much it might hurt until he was already inside you.

“I’ll fit, love. We’ll make it fit.” Just when you thought he was done, he thrusted the last inch into your cunt, giving you a short but heated kiss when you whimpered at him. 

“Remember, I want your tight, little cunt to remember only me,” Steven groaned while bottoming out and paused to let you adjust. 

You let out a choked out moan when he stopped, he was filling and stretching you out like never before. He wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you tight against him, somewhat distracting you from the stretch, large hands flexing on your back. The thought of him possibly splitting in two you briefly crosses your mind before succumbing to the pleasure of him starting to fuck you slow and deep. 

He’s murmuring soft words of praise against your temple while he’s slowly making you lose your mind, dragging out to the tip then thrusting back in hard but keeping a slow pace, leaving you breathless. 

Your lungs aren’t working as they should be, his scent is all around you, his hands holding you close, the tendons in his neck flexing in view. You think you’re having an out of body experience. You feel soft and weightless until an upward thrust hits a sensitive spot sending you back into your body with a wave of pleasure as you cum. Steven shifts to hold the back of your head close, kissing down your face whispering “that’s my girl” over and over.

Even though you’d found your release, Steven didn’t seem to be stopping, placing one large hand on your sternum to lay you down on his desk. Grabbing your ankles and throwing them over his shoulders, he picked up speed, fucking you hard and fast, forcing you to take what he was giving you. 

“Workin’ so hard for your good grades, aren’t you, pretty baby? Gonna take my cock every night while you study?” Steven groaned. He peppered kisses on the soft skin of your ankles and calves, moaning a little with each press of his lips to your skin.

You nodded your head moaning out a string of yes, yes, yes. Your moans raised in pitch when you felt him marking the sensitive skin of your calves with his lips and teeth. 

“Gonna say no to all the stupid boys from now on? Y’like it when I fuck you stupid, don’t you, baby? Your little brain is empty, only know my cock.” Steven punctuated each word with a hard thrust, effectively making his point with each slam of his hips. You couldn’t argue with him there. 

“Mhmmmm. No–no boys, only you,” you whimper as the heat in your belly begins clawing its way across your body.

“You’re mine, baby. Mine to fuck, mine to touch, mine to cum in. I’m the only one that’s going to touch you like this, beautiful,” Steven spat out harshly, fucking you harder with each word, pressing the backs of your thighs down toward your chest. Your legs were going to be done for tomorrow but you couldn’t care less. 

“Professoooor, I can’t take it I- it’s too much,” you whined weakly, gasping on a particularly hard thrust. You reach for the edges of the table, desperate to anchor yourself against his onslaught, papers flying every which way.

“You can and you will. Fuck, you look so pretty spread out for me like this. After all the hell you’ve put me through these past few weeks, giving me those doe eyes and biting your lip at me in class… this is what you wanted to happen, right? You’re going to take. Every. Fucking. Inch.”

He can’t possibly be waiting for a real response; it feels like he’s in your throat, his hand reaching up to tweak a nipple and you’re letting out a long moan. You’re completely wrecked, coming hard again with a loud sob of pleasure, chest arching off the table. He's relentless, not pausing, fucking you through the waves of pleasure wracking your body, overstimulating you to tears.

“Were you thinking of me then? Thought I would absolutely wreck you right then and there if you teased me hard enough?” Steven demanded and you were quick to shake your head vehemently. 

“‘m a good girl for you, professor,” you slur around your heavy tongue, as you feel another orgasm building. You’ve lost count at this point. 

“That’s right, now come for me, love, I’ve got you” he told her gently, contrasting his earlier harsh tone. 

He licked his thumb before rubbing your clit in tight circles, giving you no choice but to fall off the edge he was hurtling you towards. You came with a loud scream of his name, body convulsing and vision darkening around the edges. Though your body lay completely spent, Steven hadn’t finished yet. He was pushed out of you from the pulsating and quickly fisted himself, coming in seconds with a loud groan, painting your mound and stomach with thick ropes of cum. 

You lay there with your eyes closed, trying to even out your breathing with his sticky spend growing cold on your skin until you hear the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter. You lifted your head in time to see Steven with his phone aimed at his work, thoughtfully cropping out your face, grinning at you. 

“To show you… in case you forget you’re mine,” he tells you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You felt like the words should bother you, but they didn’t. Nothing that happened bothered you as much as you felt like it should. You knew if you asked him to delete it, he would but you didn’t really want to, secretly thrilled he wanted a reminder of this moment. 

The reality of your situation was dawning on you, however; you’d broken the rules and fucked your older, sexy professor. Well, to be fair, he’d fucked you within an inch of your life and you’re certain you’re ruined for all other men now. You didn’t think you’d ever been fucked so thoroughly. 

After tucking himself away, he hunted down a box of tissues from his endearingly cluttered office to clean you up. Steven felt a little ashamed that things had progressed to this extent and so quickly but not ashamed that it had happened at all. He really did think the world of you, he thought affectionately, while wrapping you in his tweed blazer and leading you to his small sofa. Steven rushed to turn on the kettle to make you both some tea and offer you some biscuits. After your rather rigorous activities, he was sure you’d need a snack of some sort, quickly preparing two cups and pressing one into your cold hands. 

When Steven passed you the cup you turned to him with a sweet smile, which he returned, albeit slightly more dazed. 

“That was fucking amazing,” you told him before taking a sip. 

“I’m glad you’re satisfied,” Steven said with a chuckle. He would never admit this to you, but he was worried he had possibly taken it too far, having been touch starved for far too long. Hearing your verbal confirmation put his mind at ease in that sense. 

“I guess I’m not going to that party after all,” you muttered into your cup. 

“Need I remind you of something, love? I have photographic evidence,” Steven chastised with a smug smirk. 

The words sent a shiver down your spine and you shook your head ‘no’. He pressed a kiss to your temple, whispering a muffled “good girl” against your hair. The gesture felt familiar and sweet and made you blush prettily. 

“Does that mean that this,” You motioned between the two of you, “wasn’t just a one-time thing?”

Before Steven could answer with a reassuring “No!”, the handle to his doorknob rattled, followed by several insistent knocks. You peeked at the clock on the wall - it was still technically Steven’s office hours. If not for both your states of undress, you’d have told him to answer the door so as to not raise suspicion. Another minute passed and the knocking started up again. 

“Professor? Professor Grant, are you there? I’ve got some questions,” the unmistakable voice of Tanner called through the door. 

You rolled your eyes and held back a laugh at the memory of  how your evening began. Tanner was probably here to show you that Steven was holding you back from going to his party, proving he had a thing for you. Turns out, he’d been right but that was neither here nor there. Tanner didn’t have to know that. After another minute, you could hear Tanner’s footsteps retreat and you relaxed against Steven again. 

“You know if he touches you again, I’m going to fail him, right?” Steven informed you. 

“Fine by me if he can’t take a hint.” You kissed him tenderly, pulling away to see Steven give you a wide smile.

“That’s my girl.” 

[kanmom51]

JK live 12 June 2023 7:02 am KST

Cr./ to creators of media used in this post.

JK came to us early in the morning, brought us into his bedroom, into his bed, to be with him as he falls asleep.

This was intentional, not a fluke.

JK knew he was going to fall asleep with us, and he also knew what the company's thoughts were on the matter, and he just didn't give a flying fuck.

One thing you couldn't see in the twitter translations was that cheeky smile, lol.

Man knew what he was doing.

He knew it. He just did. Fact: it took them longer to turn off the live this time than last time, lol. What was it? 6-7 minutes more or less?

JK tells it how it is.

He is gentle and genuine and just so real. When he tells us he's a human being he also shows it to us. He's not flawless and he isn't afraid to show us that either. He is a superstar with a heart of gold and some child like mannerisms. A pure soul. And I think that is partially the reason that millions of people will just sit there and watch him sleep for over 20 minutes.

Did he cut his hair again? Please no.

A summery of JK's live:

JK greetings to army.

An infomercial for the neck pillow, which is by now probably sold out.

"There are times when I snore and times when I don't...but I think I will I snore today."🤣

How can you not love this man? He literally turned on the live to fall asleep while telling us he missed us.

He tells us since he doesn't do IG, he doesn't do SM, so there aren't many ways to communicate with us. So he keeps looking for Weverse. Well, all I can say is "please don't stop".

Calvin Klein promotion from the worlds best brand ambassador ever.

Disappearing for a couple, talking to himself (most likely) in the background. I guess that answers his question if he talks to himself a lot.

Glasses on.

Glasses off.

Humming...groaning, lol.

Looks like maybe he fell asleep and then he comes back to us to tell us he was thinking just as he was about to fall asleep, that if he falls asleep: "If I really sleep I also think and imagine things that I don't want to think about. It's so fascinating..."

He ends with: "anyway, army you can't get hurt. I had a dreamlike thought about how you guys can't get hurt. We must be careful all the time. We can't get hurt."

I love his philosophical discussion with himself while half asleep. Granted, those are the times we are most likely to have our eureka moments. That is a fact. Lol.

I love how he is sharing these thoughts with us. I do hope that fans understand just how lucky they are for him to be doing this (yeah, that's wishful thinking, I know).

And from there on we have 21 minutes of JK playing sleeping beauty.

Live cut off by whoever it was in the company trying to figure out if and when they need to cut the feed off.

Well, at least they didn't have too many subs to add, hence the live being up and translated in a just a few hours.

Half of the subs for the live:

An almost perfect description of JK's live in 17 seconds:

JK's Weverse post 12 June 2023 14:34

You have got to love that man, lol.

Let's take a quick look at the numbers for a sec, again, just for fun.

JK's live was at 7:02 12.6.23

7+2+1=10

2+6+2+3=13

13/10

JK's post 2:34 pm 12.6.23

2+3+4+1=10

2+6+2+3=13

13/10

I think we have a few interesting weeks ahead of us.

I do hope that with everything going on we will still get to see this amazing so so special young man come to us to be with us.

And just before I go, I will leave you with this:

Oh Jiminah, you lucky bastard...

Also, love it when he has that JM out for show...

See you soon JK...

[pavlovianfuckery]

you're getting very sleep- oh wait. oh no

MASTERLIST

I have no excuses but I'm blaming this one on David Anders and his lovely speaking voice, I'm almost entirely innocent in all this, I promise

Since Blaine sits so prettily smack dab in the middle of the venn diagram of 'needs to be in control at all times'/'likes fucking with people'/'absolute clown shoes character' I think he'd find this sort of thing very funny, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Also this fic was being so naughty when I was trying to post it so if you see any mistakes or things looking off, give me a shout, if there are some in there and I've missed fixing them I swear to god, I will turn into an oyster out of pure shame

I might have blacked out, this got long, bone apple tea ig

7k of hypno and your garden variety filth under the cut, beware schrödinger's spiked drink if you care about that sort of thing

You don't have a pavlovian response to the text alert on your phone, but it's a pretty close thing at this point. And to be honest, the butterflies that start swarming in your belly at the sound of the little 'ding' aren't exactly helping, either.

Had an interesting brain in the last shipment, you up for a test drive tonight?

You frown at the screen. That sounds less like a date and more like work. Could probably still be fun, though.

Is this your way of asking me to come over?

You pause after sending, then quickly tap out another text; Interesting how?

The minutes crawl by, and then the phone chimes again.

You'll see. 10. Wear something pretty.

"'Wear something pretty', huh?" Considering that he could probably charm the hide right off a crocodile if he tried a bit more effort would be nice, but despite that you still can't quite keep a smile away. For a minute you think about responding with something petty to tease him right back with. A few quick taps later, you quickly hit send.

You too

At least there's plenty of time to get ready.

⁂

Curled up on the corner of the couch you watch from across the room as he goes to pour himself a drink. You have to admit that while his idea of an invitation might have been somewhat lacking, he clearly puts that effort into other things. The deep blue shirt brings out the colour of his eyes and between the usual tight denim, rolled up sleeves and undone top buttons, he looks positively edible. Seeing the lines of his shoulder blades move under the thin fabric makes your mouth go a bit dry, completely derailing your train of thought. It's almost hard to believe that he's all yours, even if it's just for tonight.

"You want anything?" If the twitch at the corners of his mouth is anything to go by, your ogling has not gone unnoticed.

"Whatever you're having is fine." You shrug, mostly content to enjoy the view for a bit longer. "So, are you going to explain the 'interesting' part?"

"It's meant to be a surprise." You can tell by the gleam in his eye that this will probably be good, but you're still a bit hesitant.

"After the week I've had, I'm really not up for guessing games."

"That bad?" Despite the way he's not looking at you and busying himself with getting glasses out, it's almost sweet. Until recently you doubt he'd even ask. Even if plain and simple lust is what got you into this mess, this is exactly the kind of small thing that keeps you there. Those tiny cracks in the veneer that make you want to dig your nails into them and peel, to see more of what lies underneath. Not that you're naive enough to think there's a heart of gold hiding underneath the surface, but surface clearly isn't all there is, either.

"You have no idea. Not going to bore you with the details, though." You sigh, watching him get a bottle out. It looks exactly like the kind of expensive stuff that would be perfectly wasted on your half-dead palate. "I just need to not think for a while, so try to play nice?"

"You saying I don't usually?" He's teasing you again, eyebrows raised and his face a perfect mockery of innocence.

"No," Rolling your eyes at him you can't quite keep the fondness out of your voice, "I'm having trouble even imagining it, actually."

He's shaking his head, smiling as he unscrews the cap of the bottle.

"You know," he pours an even measure in each glass, glancing at you as he does, "I might have just the thing."

"The thing for what, exactly?"

"For when you don't want to think." Putting the cap back on the bottle and putting it down, he fishes a bottle out of his pocket. It's a tiny unassuming thing of tinted glass, and you can't see what's inside of it.

"What's that?" You frown, not sure where this is going.

"Just a little something to help you relax." His tone is airy as he holds it between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little shake. "You trust me?" That's a question that really doesn't help you think less. It's not as if there's been a lack of opportunity for him to hurt you, hell, at times you've even asked him to. But him outright asking you to trust him is different. For a moment there's a blink-and-you-miss-it tension to his shoulders, then he shrugs and starts to put it away again. "You don't have to-"

"No, I do," You wet your lips, flicking your eyes between the bottle and his face. "I trust you." And it's not even a lie. You can only hope that he won't make you regret it as you watch him empty the bottle into one of the glasses, giving it a few quick swirls to mix it all together. Because he's seemingly always finding new ways to annoy you, he adds ice to yours before sauntering over and handing it to you with a little mock bow.

"Madam." He looks so pleased with himself that for a second you hesitate before accepting the offered glass. It almost has you rolling your eyes at him, because you know that he knows how you don't like ice in your drinks, but it doesn't feel worth getting hung up on. At least it doesn't look any different and as he sits down next to you, close enough to touch, you give it a cautious sniff. Doesn't smell any different either. As you take a small sip you can feel his eyes on you, but all you can taste is the same smooth burn you'd been expecting.

"So..." You roll the glass around between your hands, in no hurry to empty it. "You still haven't told me what's supposed to be so interesting about this brain you're on."

"You're really not letting that go, are you?"

"Nope, so you might as well tell me."

"Alright, but it's not as exciting as you probably think." He takes a sip of his drink, nodding his head. "Short version? There was a bit of a mix-up."

"And the less short version?"

"Someone bought what was supposed to be street magician brain because they thought it'd make good blue brain material. Party tricks, that kind of thing." That makes sense, you suppose. "But turns out that same someone didn't bother reading the fine print."

"And...?" You're not entirely sure where he's going with this.

"You ever been hypnotized?"

Now that's a bit of a surprise, the words 'street magician' mostly bring to mind something like card tricks or perhaps pulling hankies out of orifices.

"Oh god," you can't quite suppress a giggle, "you're not going to try and make me quack like a duck or something, are you?"

"No, but..." he leans in a bit closer, lowering his voice a little bit, "what if all I had to do was snap my fingers,"he does exactly that for emphasis,"and I could make you do whatever I wanted?"

"You could always just ask." You shrug, taking another small sip of your drink. Is it just you, or is the room getting warmer? And you could have sworn that there was ice in this, but that must have been your imagination.

"Sure, but where's the fun in that?"

"You might be surprised," The thought certainly doesn't lack appeal, and even if it does feel a little silly, it could be fun. Besides, having someone else take the reins for a bit sounds exactly like what you need right now. "Alright, I'll play. So how does it work, exactly? You going make me look at a swinging pocketwatch or something like that?"

"That's a bit cliché, don't you think?" Shaking his head, he flashes you a quick grin, "No, I'm just going to tell you what's going to happen."

"And that's just going to work?"

"Oh, it will." There's not even a hint of doubt in his voice. "That little freebie I slipped into your drink? Doesn't just relax you, it makes you...suggestible." He gestures to the glass in your hand, "By the time you finish that, you won't be able to resist. Or move much."

"I guess we'll see," you quip, taking another swig from the glass. But you can already feel it, warmth slowly spreading through your limbs like syrup, and not just from the alcohol. With a body temperature that hasn't gone above room temperature in so long, you can't remember the last time you felt this hot.

"Looking a little flushed, there." He leans back and watches you squirm for a few seconds. "It's nice, isn't it? Almost like being alive. Makes you real sensitive, too." He drags the tip of a finger up the inside of your arm, and it's true. What the hell did he give you?

"Do you mind if I open a window?" You blink a few times trying to clear your head, but he's still touching you. Every brush of his skin against yours feels as if he's reaching deeper somehow, touching the nerves themselves. Every move of his fingertip on your heated skin shoots straight to your core, making it hard to think. "I need some air."

"Be my guest." You're sure that your legs weren't this wobbly just a few minutes ago and he clearly notices too, though he doesn't say anything as he takes the half-empty glass from you. Walking over to the door leading out to the balcony is much harder than it should have been, and the entire time you're overly aware of your own body. Just the feel of your clothes and the way your own thighs rub together has you biting your lip. "You good?" The reflection in the glass is a bit blurry, but the amused expression on his face is clear enough.

"Yeah, it's fine." When did you get so lightheaded? Cracking the door open an inch lets the evening air in and it does help, at least a little. Leaning your forehead against the cool glass, you take a few deep breaths. It's only a short distance back to the couch but right now you're not feeling too confident. You only make it a few steps before he stops you.

"You might feel better if you take your top off." That sounds like a good idea, actually. He's still smiling, making your stomach fill with butterflies as you pull the offending garment over your head. "Better?"

"I don't...know?" You frown. Why is it still so warm in here?

"Lose the skirt too." His hungry gaze almost feels like a physical weight on you as it glides over your breasts and stomach, drinking in every inch of exposed skin. "That'll help." Of course it will, it has to. The zipper doesn't want to cooperate but eventually you get it, and as the skirt slides off and falls to the floor, it actually does feel better. It's still a bit too warm and too much somehow, but at least it's bearable now. "Come here." He pats the empty seat next to him. As you go to take a step, your legs wobble again, making you hesitate. It would be so embarrassing if you tripped and fell.

"Are you...laughing at me?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"Not at all." Resting his chin in his hand you can't quite see but you strongly suspect that he's not being entirely truthful. Something is clearly very funny, because his eyes are crinkling at the corners. "You can crawl, if you want." It's still a bit embarrassing but at least it's better than tripping over your own feet, and being on your hands and knees for him feels correct in a way that you can't quite put a finger on. He looks so inviting sitting there, so rather than getting back up right away you crawl between his nonchalantly spread legs. As you rub your cheek against the inside of his denim-clad thigh it actually helps with the light-headedness, because right now it feels as if he's the only solid thing in the room. Then he's patting the seat next to him again. "You should sit."

"But this is nice." Everything feels so intense and as you slide a hand over his calf and up to his knee, you wonder what'd be like to touch him without anything in the way when you're feeling like this.

"You want to finish your drink, don't you?" Now that you think about it, you're actually really thirsty still, so you probably should. Clambering back onto the couch, your fingers are a bit sluggish as he hands you the glass again, but you pay it no mind. "Go on."

There's not that much left, but you only manage about half before your limbs get so heavy that you fumble and nearly drop it.

"What did you...?" You trail off, frowning again. This is his fault, isn't it? He did something.

"Told you it'd help you relax." And it's true, almost too much so. As he reaches over and pulls the nearly empty glass from your clumsy fingers, it's as if somebody has filled your limbs with warm sand. He gently taps the glass against your bottom lip. "Bottoms up, doll." You're not sure if it's on purpose or not but when he tilts the glass he does it a bit too steeply for you to keep up, making the last of the amber liquid drip down your chin and neck.

Then it doesn't seem terribly important anymore because he's chasing the spilled liquor with his mouth, tongue lapping at every stray droplet until you're shivering, weakly squeezing your legs together. Every little touch is overwhelming and as he licks and sucks at your neck, the scent of him nearly makes your mouth start to water. It's a hint of no doubt expensive cologne and whatever product he puts in his hair, all underlaid by what you suppose is just him and you probably shouldn't be associating it with words like 'comfort' or 'safe' but somehow despite yourself, you've started to do that anyway.

"Look how relaxed you are," his voice low and smooth in your ear, almost making you dizzy with want. Pulling away he gives your shoulder a little push. It makes you sway in your seat and as your head lolls back, he wraps a steadying hand around the back of your neck. "That's good. Feels good too, right?"

"Uh-huh." Words aren't usually this hard but everything feels soft and warm, like your brain has been coated in cotton. It's a bit like being underwater and while you can still move, everything seems to move at half speed. Then he's touching you again, tracing the lacy edges of your bra. Even through the thin fabric, everything is so magnified and so focused that when he scratches across one of your nipples with a blunt fingernail, it sends a little mewling sound tumbling from your mouth.

"You must be so damn sensitive," he murmurs as he does it again, "I'm barely even touching you." Every relentless back and forth of his fingers has little jolts of pleasure running through you until it feels like you could melt into the cushions and disappear. When he stops, the lack of it is almost painful. Not for long though because then he's dipping his head down, replacing his fingers with his mouth. If his just fingers felt good, the feel of his tongue and teeth as he sucks you through the saliva-dampened fabric is downright heavenly. Then he's pinching your other side, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers and for a few fleeting seconds you think that if he keeps doing that maybe you might come without even needing anything else. But you don't want to, not yet, so soon and so empty. Somehow you're certain that it would break the spell you're under, and right now everything just feels so good.

"I wanna touch you," you whine, tugging at the edge of his shirt. Clearly you haven't thought this through because that makes him stop, which is the opposite of what you want.

"You can touch, if you want to." When did buttons become this difficult? It really shouldn't be this hard but your fingers aren't quite doing what you tell them to, making you all the more frustrated. "It's okay." When did his voice get that soft, like something you could reach out and touch? It makes you ache to rub up against it even though that makes absolutely no sense. And of course, he makes the buttons look so easy it's almost upsetting. But then he's grabbing your wrist, guiding your hands and pressing them to his bare chest. "Better?"

"A little." When he's this close it feels as if you could drown in his eyes but it's still not close enough and there's some primal part of your mind that wants to crawl under his skin, let him fucking eat you. Something must be funny again, or he wouldn't be smiling at you like that. "What?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head and it's very confusing, because you haven't done anything, have you? But then he's kissing you and it doesn't seem terribly important, anymore. With your mouth starting to turn as clumsy as the rest of you he doesn't push but takes his time, turning the kiss into something so slow and careful that it leaves you short of breath. You almost don't notice his hand moving across your back, fingers slipping under the band of the bra. But then you can feel his lips curve against yours in a grin as he gives the closure a quick little twist, and when it pops open you're almost a bit offended that he makes it look that easy. As he slides the straps down he presses a quick kiss to each shoulder, making your heart do a tiny somersault in your chest. With the bra finally discarded on the floor somewhere he hooks a finger in the elastic of your underwear, giving it a little tug. "Tell me you want me, doll."

"You know I do." For some reason those words are much easier to wrap your mouth around, so easy to get out without having to fight your own body. You're basically vibrating under his hands already, so he has to know. How can he not know?

"Tell me anyway."

"I want you," you breathe, painfully aware of how heavy your cunt feels, wetness starting to seep into your underwear. The words come in a rush you're not quite prepared for, almost falling over themselves. "Fuck, I want you more than anything."

Your hips lift almost on their own when he gives your underwear another tug and then they're slowly slipping down, down, down until he's crouched between your legs, pulling them the rest of the way off.

"You're so pretty," you sigh, gently petting his hair. How can everything about him look so damn touchable? Impossible man. You feel too warm and fuzzy to mind it when he laughs at you, content to just watch the way his mouth and throat move. It makes you want to put your fingers in his mouth. There's no real reason for it and you know that all you'd find in there are lies and teeth, but you want to anyway. Then he's laughing again, shaking his head and pulling on your hand and did you really say all of that out loud? You must have done because then he's rubbing the tips of your fingers over his lips, pressing a quick kiss to each one before slipping two of them into his mouth, holding them gently between his teeth. To him, it's clearly just another way of teasing you and it should feel much sillier than it does, but that doesn't keep your breath from speeding up. It's intimate even though you can't quite articulate why and then his tongue slides over your fingertips, mostly putting a stop to thinking altogether. Your heartbeat feels incredibly loud as you mindlessly trace the edges of his teeth, pressing down on his tongue. It feels like it's only a few short moments later that he's pulling your fingers back out, pressing one last kiss to your knuckles.

"Still with me? Looking a bit zoned out, there." For a few moments, the words bounce around inside your skull like the world's slowest game of pong and you can't quite respond.

"Yeah, I..." you blink rapidly a few times, but it doesn't really help. It feels as if your head is filled with sickly sweet fog that could start leaking out of your ears if you try too hard to think, and the words are shaky and halting as they stumble from your mouth. "You didn't have to."

"You wanted it, though." Then he's on his knees proper, hands gliding up your thighs at a snail's pace, keeping your legs apart even when you unconsciously try to squeeze them together again. He's so close to touching you where you need it, and it's as if he can see how badly you want him. Just his breath washing over you has you clenching around nothing. "Fuck, doll," he groans and then he's touching you, if you can call it that. It's barely the ghost of touch, so feather-light that it's more like torture when you know it'd be so easy for him to sink those gorgeous fingers into you, filling you up. "You need it, don't you?"

Then the tip of his tongue is slipping through your folds, dipping into you. It's too gentle, nowhere near enough and the way he's studiously avoiding your clit makes it obvious that he's doing it entirely on purpose. It makes you clumsily grab at the back of his neck in that way you know annoys him because at this point, you'll even take his teeth over more of this teasing. All it gets you is another huff of laughter, bright eyes boring into yours until you're pinned down like a bug on a board. When he finally brushes against your clit it's still just with the very tip of his tongue, too slow and too soft to do anything except frustrate you. Every muscle in your body is slowly turning to jelly and when you try to push him away, nothing is moving how it should.

"Please." It's small and strangled and almost blurring at the edges, only barely squeezing out past the whimper growing at the base of your throat. "It hurts." And it does, you're so empty and needy that you're swollen with it, it aches and every flick of his tongue is making it worse, not better. "Need you," the words keep sticking like velcro to your tongue, and it takes more effort than it should to get them out.

"What do you want, hm?" He rubs at you, watching your reaction as he idly spreads your wetness mixed with his saliva around. "You can have my fingers." Resting the tip of a finger at your entrance he just barely dips inside. It makes you twitch and shudder, your body trying to pull at him all on its own, but the feeling passes quickly, leaving a gaping kind of hunger in its place. "Can have my whole hand, if that's what you want." As you struggle for words he bites down on the inside of your thigh, a slow steady press of teeth intended to leave a bruise. That hurts too, but it gives you something else to focus on, makes it easier.

"Just need you," you grit out, breath coming in quick little gasps, "inside, please, please..."

"Yeah?" He presses a sloppy open-mouthed kiss to the bite, laving his tongue over the little divots left by his teeth, so close to breaking the skin. "You want my cock?"

"God, yes." Your nails scrabble weakly against the expensive leather of the couch. Some gibbering and altogether vicious part of your mind insists that him just fucking you isn't enough, he needs to get his cock out and hurt you with it, to leave you with marks so lasting and so deep that the only thing you'll ever be is his. It's thoroughly ugly in all its possessiveness, but you can't bring yourself to care. "Please."

For a second he looks at you with something that's almost like pity.

"You can't move, can you?" His tone is soft and sweet like molasses as he wraps a hand around your wrist, stroking it with his thumb. Before you can even try to answer he lifts it a few inches, then lets go, and you can't do anything except watch as your arm limply falls back down. "Oh, sweetheart," he breathes, eyes going half-lidded and dark," Oh, that's perfect, fuck."

Having to watch him undress without being able to touch him is its own kind of torture. Every movement from the way he shrugs off the undone shirt to how he peels the tight denim down is deliberate and just a hint too slow, making you wait for it. He's close enough that all you'd have to do is reach for him but your limbs just feel so heavy, as if any minute you're going to sink down all the way through the floor. He's half-hard already, tenting the fabric of his boxers and as he pulls them off too you can't quite hold back a frustrated little noise.

Then your mouth really does start to water because the way he touches himself is deliberate too, slow and teasing and just out of your reach. The temptation to get on your knees and wrap your lips around him is so strong that you're almost feverish with it, but even if you could move, how could you trust your own mouth right now? Every slide of his fingers draws the tension inside of you tighter until it drags the breath from your lungs in a desperate little whine.

It's not even words anymore, just noise. You can't even ask for what you want. Then he's stepping closer still, until he's just inches away, the tip of his cock flushed and wet and all but begging you to wrap your mouth around it. If you could just move-

"Shh, I know," he soothes, stroking your hair, "you don't need to talk, it's alright..." Despite the breathy edge to his voice the words are still so soft, and you can't quite understand why. Every little movement and slick sound has heat curling low in your belly and as he swipes his thumb over his slit and gathers the beading precome on his finger, you think you might actually cry. He's close enough that you can smell him and now he's just being mean, why can't he just-

Then his finger is pressing against your mouth, rubbing it over your lips until they glisten with it and now you know he's definitely just being mean on purpose because that has to be payback for something you've done. "You're so fucking pretty like this, come here." He grits out, cupping your jaw in his hand. "Open." His grip is gentle as he coaxes your slack mouth to open properly, not letting go and taking himself in hand until he's satisfied that it's wide enough. Hand cradling the back of your head, he doesn't fuck your mouth the way you expect him to. Instead he just barely slips between your lips and rubs his tip against your tongue with a low moan, not seeming to care that you can't really do anything. For a minute it's so close to being what you want, but it's not quite what you need. You'd thought that tasting him would make you feel better, but instead all it does is make the ache between your legs all the more urgent. It's not just the inside of your thighs that are getting slick with it, the luxurious leather under your ass is also starting to turn slippery, and if he doesn't take pity on you soon, sliding right off the couch could be a very real possibility. While getting fucked on the floor is starting to sound more tempting by the minute, you know that it'd probably be a lot less fun in practice. You wish that you could at least swallow properly because he's leaking into your mouth, twitching and messy and entirely too lovely. The little groans spilling from his lips have no business sounding as good as they do and you selfishly hope that he doesn't come like this and leaves you hanging.

When he finally pulls away the rise and fall of his chest is a shuddering, uneven thing and he looks almost as tense and desperate as you feel. As he wipes your chin and as he cups your cheek, thumb tracing your cheekbone, you can't recall ever wanting him more."Just blink if you still want it, doll."

So you do, as slowly and as purposefully as you can, despite the thick fog swirling around in your mind, making it hard to think. It seems to get the message across because his face is a mixture of relief and desire, hot and sharp and focused entirely on you as he captures your mouth with his.

"Good," he sighs against your lips, "that's good." When he pushes you down you go so easy, as boneless as a puppet with its strings cut. It's a tight fit and not entirely comfortable when he tries to slot himself between your legs and in hindsight, the couch really isn't the best spot for it. He seems to agree, knocking a few of the cushions to the floor with an impatient little 'tsk' sound and giving your legs more room to spread. "There," he grunts, pressing close and covering your body with his, "that's better."

With his weight holding you down it does feel better and as he rubs his length over your aching center, even better still. Every slow roll of his hips has your traitorous heart pounding just a bit harder in your chest because he could have just turned you over and used you but instead he's taking his time, all but melting against you in a way that's bordering on tender. You're still not naive enough to fool yourself into thinking that this is something as stupid as love, but with the way he's looking at you, it makes it hard to believe that this arrangement between you is as clear-cut as it had been when it started. Then he's bowing his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing laboured as he sucks a bruise into the sensitive skin.

"You just keep that pretty little head of yours," his voice is shaky and fraying at the edges, "nice and empty for me." With the way he's caging you in with his arms, he's already the only thing you can think about right now but it's not like you'd tell him that, even if you could. Then he's reaching down, feeling you out and angling his hips just so, making thinking superfluous at best as he presses against your opening. He's not even inside of you yet but he's already trembling. "Fuck," he gasps, brows knitting into a small concentrated frown. "oh, you're so fucking ready for me, aren't you?"

For once he's not hiding and you can't look away, and as he finally slides into you, all you can do is breathe and let him. There are no masks, no walls, only the way his mouth goes slack and pupils dilate, breath coming out in stuttering little bursts. He takes his time with this too, easing into you so carefully, as if he's worried that you might break, despite knowing better than that. Having him buried inside like this, throbbing and lovely and pushing into the deepest parts of you, it's perhaps the most right you've felt all night. And that's when you realize that even though it's only a little, you can move.

"Oh fuck, sweetheart, you don't have to..." The words are staggered and a bit unsteady as he trails off, frown deepening and eyelids fluttering as you squeeze around him again and again. Once you start, you're not sure how to stop. Not when it's dragging the prettiest, almost obscene noises from his mouth as he rocks against you. It feels as if he's barely moving an inch, only just pulling back before thrusting back in, nudging and massaging at that sweet spot deep inside. If you could only touch yourself you'd be hurtling towards that precipice so soon, but you can't. Even if your arm wasn't hanging uselessly off the edge of the couch, there's no room. Instead, he's pressed in so close that every move has you rubbing against him. Compared to his fingers or his mouth it's too broad, too imprecise, but it doesn't matter because it's still enough. You can feel your climax slowly starting to build, a roiling, twisting, hungry thing that's already making your thighs start to quiver. There's no hurrying it along, there's only frantic little breaths and waiting for him to bring you there, a low keening sound trapped in your throat. That, and watching as he slowly falls apart. Because he does, control steadily eroding until he's tense and still and spewing profanities into your ear.

"You gotta fucking," his voice is rough and strained, chest heaving as he twitches inside of you," oh, you gotta stop that." You almost don't want to. He's beautiful like this, so tightly wound and on the verge of losing himself in you completely. With your own release looming just out of reach it's almost impossible to stop, but you do. It's like a tide retreating and if you could move, you'd be clinging to him right now, begging for it, but all you can do is breathe. "I'll take care of you, just let me," and then he's kissing you again, quick and sloppy and gorgeous, the words tickling your lips, "I will, just be still for me, just let me..." And then he's moving again, pushing himself deeper and fully bottoming out, forcing your legs apart until one of them limply slides off the couch, the plush rug tickling your foot as it dangles over the edge. It's not the most comfortable position to be in but he's not letting you fall and with the slight change in angle, there's more room now. He wastes no time taking advantage of it. It's still a tight fit as he slides a hand between your bodies, pressing down and rubbing exactly where you need him to the most. The pace is no longer something deep and slow, and you can tell he's trying to hold back, but you're not sure how long it's going to last. You know it won't be long for you though, between the way he fills you up so perfectly and rubbing slick little swipes in a merciless back-and-forth over your clit, your walls are already starting to flutter.

"Hold on for me, doll, I'm almost there, just a bit more..."The desperate edge to the words drags you even closer to your peak and his fingers are so insistent and so good that you can't, you can't. He looks almost pained as he chases it, driving into you at a pace that's nowhere near gentle or controlled anymore. "I want to be right fucking there with you," and that nearly does it, the way he chokes those words out, voice so breathless and lovely. You try to hold on, you do, but he's making it impossible. Then he's making a strangled noise and you're no longer going, you're gone, spasming around his cock until you're nearly pushing him out with the force of it. In the midst of the searing pleasure you're almost sorry but then he's making an absolutely filthy sound and you can feel it when he tips over the edge only seconds behind you, swelling and pulsing as he pushes himself against your grasping walls. After dragging it out for so long it's not quick, every drop of pleasure wrung from you until you're gasping and dizzy. Even as he's starting to come down, you're still convulsing around him until he's oversensitive and shuddering. But rather than pull away he leans into it. There's something almost cute about how the aftershocks of your release make him twitch and gasp and despite looking at least as spent as you feel, he still rolls his hips a few more times and rubs his softening cock against your weakly fluttering walls, making himself shiver with it.

When you finally go still he lets out a breathless little laugh.

"You done?" He smiles, resting his forehead against yours. You frown and blink slowly up at him because he doesn't do that, not really. The gesture is too intimate, too familiar, but there it is anyway. It makes you want to wrap your arms around him and for some reason, you can. It's jerky and clumsy but at least it's movement, so you'll take it. The smooth expanse of his back is almost warm as you run your hands over it, waiting for him to push you away.

"I..." your mouth feels as if it's coated in rust, dry and miserable, but at least it's working, sort of. Clearing your throat, you try again."Think so. Definitely." You're vaguely aware that there are tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. As you blink they fall and then your shoulders start tensing almost on their own.

"Hey," his voice is so hellishly soft again and he's pulling away, sitting back from you. It hurts, causing a few more tears to stubbornly fall. It's embarrassing and he shouldn't have to see that so you turn away, curling up on your side.

"Shit," he mutters under his breath. There's barely space for it but he squeezes in between you and the backrest of the couch anyway, plastering himself to your back. It's not exactly comfortable and you're not sure why he's doing it at all. As a small sob rattles your ribcage he wraps an arm around your waist, pressing a quick kiss to the back of your shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm not sad, not really, it's fine." It's probably not very convincing and you wipe at your eyes with a little hiccup. "Fuck."

"You sure?" He rests his chin on your shoulder, tightening his grip just a fraction. That's not something you're used to either from him, but if he's offering you're not going to push him away.

"Just, that was...a lot." You shake your head, a wobbly little giggle bubbling in your throat. "What the fuck did you put in my drink?"

"Just water." He sounds so utterly pleased with himself when he says it, too. "Got you good, didn't I?"

"What...?" That doesn't sound right at all and you frown. "If you're lying to me right now-"

"You don't remember anything, do you?" His voice is almost giddy in your ear and before you can question what exactly you're supposed to remember, he snaps his fingers again, making you jump. It's hazy, coming back in fits and starts, and then-

⁂

"Deep breaths, just relax for me." All you can see is his eyes, drawing you in. "Just listen, you're going to..." And you want to listen, it feels so good to listen, letting his voice wash over and through you until everything else falls away, until all that exists is himhimhim-

"You're doing so well, doll." Every word slips and skids across your brain like honey in a hot skillet until it feels like they're coating the inside of your mouth, sweet and sticky.

"In a moment you're going to wake up..." And you still can't look away, his voice is so soft, wrapping around you and filling you up until your head is swimming with it. "You're not going to remember this until later, okay? Nod for me if you understand."

You're swaying in your seat, neck like rubber and you nod, you want so badly to do as he says, anything, just as long as he keeps talking-

⁂

"What the hell did you do?" Despite yourself, you tense up, heart tapping an uneven rhythm against your ribs.

"Nothing you didn't enjoy." He sounds almost unbearably flippant. One of these days, you're going to have and try to take him down a peg or two. "Mostly wanted to see if it'd even work."

"You better tell me, or I swear-" You don't really think he's done anything horrible, but you are curious enough that resorting to violence isn't entirely out of the question.

"Alright, keep your panties on. Or don't," he gives your shoulder a little nibble and you can feel him grin. "The general idea was that the more turned on you got, the less you'd be able to think or move." He shrugs, tightening his grip. "Also the drink thing, but that was just for fun."

"And there was nothing else?"

"Scouts honor." There's a pause, and then, "Would you have preferred it if I'd made you cluck like a chicken?"

"Anyone ever tell you that you're a bit of an asshole?" It comes out a bit sharper than intended, but it just runs off of him like water on a particularly smug duck.

"Oh yeah," he murmurs against the back of your neck, "there's this awfully pushy woman that keeps constantly reminding me."

"You really think I'm pushy?" You can't even bring yourself to be annoyed, not really. The fondness fizzing in your chest doesn't quite let you, not right now. "So this might be a silly question, but..." You bite your lip, running your fingers over his forearm," could we keep this one? It was a little interesting..."

[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter II // JJ Maybank (smut)

The story picks up where season 2 leaves us.

TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence.

CHAPTER ONE can be found here.

Chapter 2 - La Realidad

The lobby was surprisingly big and it matched the interior of the diner to a T. Everything was rustic and cheesy-looking, mimicking what Americans imagined people in Spain’s houses to look like. The black and white tiles from the diner went on into the foyer, covered in plants. The ceiling was very high and you could see the roof from the middle of the lobby. Four sets of sofas and tables were spread around, but all of them were vacant, much like the ones in the diner.

Samara was leaning against one of the many columns supporting the arches on which the upper parts of the walls were resting, waiting for the group. JJ smiled at her but she didn’t smile back, only turned around and motioned for them to follow her up a wide set of stairs. “Seeing as we’re almost fully booked tonight, you’ll be staying on the first floor,” she said, stopping at the first floor’s landing where a hallway of doors revealed itself, “With me.” The sound of that excited JJ a little too much for his liking. “Fully booked?” John B mumbled under his breath, “Yeah right,” he scoffed. “Don’t jump to conclusions too quickly, friend of JJ,” Samara said, obviously having heard him regardless of the fact that she was a good few feet ahead of them, “There is more than meets the eye down here in La Guardiana.” She stopped in front of a door, placing a key inside the keyhole, “Room 103,” she said, opening the door to reveal a scarcely furnished small room with hideous red wallpaper on the walls and a double bed situated between two Spanish windows, “Obviously only two can sleep here, so who’s it gonna be?” Sarah volunteered first, “Me and John B can have it,” she said, quickly adding, “If that’s okay with you, of course…” “Alright,” Samara said, turning the lights on in what JJ guessed was the bathroom, “This is your bathroom, there’s shampoo and soap in there, I’m guessing you’ll need it, enjoy.” She said, leading the others out of the room and down to the next one, 105. She unlocked the door, revealing an almost identical room to the previous one with the only difference being in the wallpaper colour - it was blue. Kiara and Cleo agreed to share this room, which left JJ with Pope. “And room 107,” said Samara, unlocking the second to last door down the hallway, “It’s right next to mine, how lucky,” she said sarcastically, handing Pope the keys. He ran into the room, laying on the bed with a look of pure bliss on his face. JJ turned to Samara, “Hey, uh, thank you so much again, I-“ “Meet me in the lobby at midnight.” She interrupted him, turning on her heel to walk away, “Don’t be late.” JJ’s pants suddenly felt awfully tight with excitement as he nodded, “Okay!” He said enthusiastically, “But… What time is it now?”

~~~~~~

The good thing about 100 degree temperature was that everything dried quickly. Whether it was hair or clothes or underwear - it dried up in no time. This was exactly why after taking what felt like the best showers of their lives, JJ and Pope washed their clothes and let them air dry on the window sills. Both boys were currently laying in bed in their towels, staring at the ceiling with only the sound of the big wall clock ticking away in the background. “She wants to meet up, you know?” JJ suddenly broke the silence. Pope snickered next to him, “You know what, JJ? I’ve gotta give it to you, man. Even smelly and dirty, you still manage to get the girl. How do you even do it?” JJ smiled proudly, “What can I say? I guess I’m just irresistible.” Pope laughed at his friend’s words. “So what time are you going to her room?” He asked. “Oh, she wants to meet me in the lobby. Probably wants to have a couple of drinks to, uh, you know, break the ice. Little does she know that JJ Maybank is more than just a pretty face and a man of few words,” JJ said cockily, “Come here, baby, I can recite you the whole dictionary” he wiggled his eyebrows. Pope was laughing hysterically at his friend’s cockiness, “What would we ever do without you, man?” “I’ll tell you one thing you wouldn’t have done without me,” he said, sitting up at gesturing towards their surroundings, “Sleep in a bed, at a hotel, for free,” Pope nodded, “Dude, I still can’t believe this is happening, this girl’s practically saving our asses,” “Yeah and you just wait ’til I get a hold of hers,” JJ wiggled his eyebrows once again. Pope scoffed, “What time are you meeting?” “Midnight,” JJ responded, looking at the clock. It was currently 8pm. The sun was still out and oddly enough, the street was beginning to sound a bit more lively. JJ and Pope peaked through one of the windows to have a look at what was happening outside. Sure enough, as the sun began to set, the streets of La Guardiana began to fill up.

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

One positive about being a castaway - ending up in a cool new spot where a hot girl was practically giving herself to JJ.

One negative thing about being a castaway - having nothing to wear to impress said hot girl.

JJ was known to be an attractive guy and he knew it. Pulling girls never posed an issue for him back in the Outer Banks, yet here he was, standing in front of the long rectangular mirror in the hallway of his and Pope’s shared room, sighing at his reflection. He tried combing his sandy blonde hair back with his fingers, failing miserably as the soft strands just wouldn’t cooperate and stay in one spot. He looked down at his clothes, the same set of clothes he’d been wearing since that day, and rolled his eyes, throwing his head back in annoyance. “At least they’re clean…” he sighed to himself, tugging at his top. Pope was sitting on their bed, smirking at JJ’s reflection through the mirror, “Is it just me or do I sense nervousness?” JJ turned around to face him, his face expression both sad and annoyed, “This is all I’ve got, it’s not like I can do anything about it.” Pope shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, look at it this way - if she offered to help all of us after having a five minute conversation with you, then she must like you a lot.” Pope’s words made JJ’s lips curl into a small smile. Maybe he was right, why else would Samara willingly offer to house not only him, but his friends too, in her family’s hotel, for free? She must have liked him, right? Right?

The blonde boy sighed as he turned to look at the clock. In 10 minutes he would have to make his way downstairs to the pretty lady who asked him to meet her there, and to say he was excited would be an understatement. He took a seat next to Pope on the bed, keeping him company in watching some baseball game currently playing on their little TV, engulfing the room in light. JJ was tapping his foot on the ground nervously, checking the clock every few seconds, not focusing on the TV programme at all. Time seemed to be passing dreadfully slow all of a sudden. The street in front of their window was now full of people chattering and laughing, there was music playing from several different spots, one melody overlapping with the rest and smells of all kinds were filling the boys’ room, the one of marijuana particularly tickling JJ’s fancy as all he could think about was how much just one, not more, drag would help him ease his nerves before his much anticipated date. Was it even a date? He was so nervous at this point that he decided to just head downstairs without wasting any more time.

The short walk down to the lobby was filling JJ’s already nervous brain with even more nerves. What was he even nervous about? He was never like this around girls. Although, he had to admit he hadn’t really flirted with anyone in a while now, even before the day of the incident. He was so engulfed in mourning his best friend and Sarah, whom he believed to be dead, that he had completely neglected his own needs and fantasies, sex being the one he had pushed to the side the most. The past few months were hard for JJ, what with everything going on in his life - from John B to his dad, to the gold, and now the cross; almost being tossed in jail on more than one occasion, getting into numerous fights, hiding on numerous occasion and not to mention all that running that him and his friends somehow always had to partake in, being chased by anyone and everyone wherever they went. JJ had been so busy doing all of this, he had forgotten how to be a teenaged boy, how to fix his hair, how to talk to girls - hell, he was sure that if Samara took him up to her room, he’d have to have at least three of those whiskeys he drank earlier, just to know where to touch her - that’s how much he had neglected his sex life.

Making his way down to the lobby, he saw her. She was sitting on one of the couches, not yet aware of his presence there, a glass of wine resting in her delicate hands and another one sitting on the table in front of her, presumably for JJ. Her silky chocolate hair cascaded down her tanned shoulders, covering her voluptuous breasts, making JJ gulp. She was wearing an off white dress that seemed to hug her in all the right places and the contrast between her dark hair, bronze tan and the light coloured material made her appear even more alluring to the young boy, if that was even possible. Samara was truly a sight to behold and JJ couldn’t believe his luck quite yet. Somehow all of this seemed too good to be true. People never usually just gave stuff away, it wasn’t in their nature. Being from the cut, JJ was used to only receiving things that he was expected to work for. Good things never came cheap, and the girl sitting before him who had put a roof over his and his friends’ heads for the foreseeable few days, definitely didn’t look like the type who just gave things away. JJ was simply hoping that the wine she had prepared for him would be enough to soothe his nerves before what he imagined would be a night of hot, raunchy sex. He wanted to rip her clothes off and make her whimper beneath him and he was so set on that, that he had turned it into the only logical thing that she could ask for in return for the massive favour she was doing for him. It only made sense, right? She knew he had nothing - what else could he possibly offer her?

“Hello, JJ,” Samara spoke when she finally saw the boy approaching her. He sat down on the sofa next to her and picked up the glass of wine that was waiting for him on the table. “I heard about a certain gold you have,” she simply said, her plump lips twisting into a smirk and her black eyes boring into JJ’s blue ones, “How about I help you get it back and in turn,” she reached for his knee, “- you share some of it with me.”

Uh-oh.

[ourlovelines]

pls spare info for clem 🥺🤲 anything and everything!! 💖

ah, beloved !! of course i can share some information about my dear clementine for you ! it's under the cut bc i got a lil ramble-y!

single child to loving, if not slightly overprotective parents

i'm thinking that the reason her parents are a bit overprotective is that they had another child; maybe he and clem were twins… either way he's older by a few hours or a few years, and he was kidnapped - potential for a reveal of one of the staff members took him - and he was believed to be killed by the same people who end up killing clementine's mother years later (@ hooligans 👀 )

her parents gave her the nickname "butterfly" bc a few months after she was born, they were out in the gardens and a butterfly came and settled itself on the top of clementine's stroller and didn't leave until they reached the palace doors again

SOCIAL BUTTERFLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY !!!!! she genuinely loves having conversations with people where she learns stuff about them

she's also v thoughtful and remembers those things bc "you never know when you'll need it"

she always has something nice to say about everyone, especially when she can see someone looking upset

she always tries to wear a bow in her hair bc she thinks it looks pretty (she has a gold-trimmed bow gifted to her from her cousin that she pulls out for special occasions)

she's very light on her feet, and moves quickly too (so good luck to alexei)

her signature scent is something light, usually apple and vanilla

clementine has so much of her father's personality, most think she purely takes after him, but she's just as ruthless as her mother

is a natural in front of the camera and generally knows what the press want to hear

has ! a ! loud ! laugh ! she's a little shy about it, thinks it makes her seem less like a princess, because all the other nobles she's been around have dainty laughs, y'know?

almost always seen wearing a white gold ring with an emerald stone that she got from her grandmother (she can be seen fidgeting about with it when she's stressed)

if she's by herself, or around those that she trusts (alexei), she can be heard singing softly

she doesn't like long silences because they remind her of when alexei left to go to the army / train, of when he left her alone

she enjoys painting her nails, just having that 10-ish minute block of just sitting and doing something nice for herself

competitive little shit

will beg alexei to teach her to spar "because it looks fun, and 'sides, it'd be helpful for any scenario where you're not around!" "princess, you aren't ever going to be in a position where something happens and i'm not there." and he's looking at her all smug

she loves to read! she's got a little section in the palace library that she's set up as her little reading nook, and most know that that is the area to go looking for her when she needs a moment to herself

she loves the rain. she loves having instrumental versions of music playing / classical music playing softly in the background as she sits and watches out the window

each time a member of her pr team tells her that someone has published a rumor that she's dating someone (generally always a noble that she's seen talking and smiling with) she laughs good-naturedly before telling them it's not true

she has a shiba inu puppy named belbel

when her mother was killed, her father kinda retreated into himself, still loving, but not as... present

he initally was one of the few against clementine going to kingsford, but he figured he'd be able to keep her safe by sending her away from home (and because he could see how... off? she was, surrounded by everything that screams "mother")

she tends to try and go to sleep last. she likes to make sure that everyone with her is safe and accounted for before she goes to sleep (she rarely stays up longer than alexei, he always stays awake longer than her)

[oklcmc]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀،̲،̲⠀⠀⠀𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝟏𝟖+]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀゛⠀I left that sexy dress out on the bed with a note there layin’ for ya with directions where I’m waiting with dinner and waiter for ya! ⠀〟

summary：⠀⠀⠀‘’⠀⠀⠀An imagine turned drabble⸝ dating back as late as April of twenty-eighteen in which Kendrick and his long-term fiancée⸝ Rachel try to prove to their close friends and family that sex isn’t the core of their engagement. Heavily based on the Martin ❪1992❫ episode Whoop! There It Ain’t.⠀⠀⠀‘’

word count：518

pairing：kendrick⸝ circa 2017？ ✕ black!female oc ❪lorraine ward❫

forewarning：this drabble contains sexual content and strong language thus far. read at your own discretion.

fun-size playlist：i. big sean⸝ chris brown ⅋ ty dolla $ign - play no games

author’s note：⠀⠀⠀‘’⠀⠀⠀Y’all know how infatuated me and my husband are with the television show⸝ Martin⸝ so it had to be done⸝ but oh my God⸝ guys⸝ I must confess to just how butt I was with writing smut during this phase within my life! It’s a wonder I hadn’t actually fell through with finishing it off! It’s atrocious⸝ for real. My husband didn’t deserve this⸝ like at all. I’m not sayin’ I’m the best with writing it nowadays either⸝ but God have I came a long way! That’s the main reason as to why I’m posting these；To see my growth with writing from then to now. To humble myself. Hopefully you guys can see it too.

I’ve always had this thing of being really apprehensive when it comes down to writing about Ken⸝ but especially with imagines because I want to be 1000% sure that I’m depicting his character right. I literally want his imagine(s) to top whatever I have posted before now. I think that’s another reason as to why I hadn’t finished this one and LOVE. which will more than likely be posted sometime tomorrow afternoon. After that’s said and done⸝ we’re going back to the drawing board for Kenny even if it’s not following my previous update schedule. I’m sorry⸝ but this has to be done for my own sanity. The other shit can wait⸝ even Underground Combat! What Cookie say？ ‘I gotta put me first⸝ Lucious!’ It would be lovely if I can have it out in time for his thirty-fifth Birthday⸝ but I’m not even going to put that type of pressure on myself right now. Last chapter of Underground Combat was already frustrating enough with reaching a deadline in time. I’ma just go with the flow this time around and see just how rewarding the outcome’ll be for myself. God willing⸝ I’ll revamp this plot one day⸝ so don’t steal it! I’ll see y’all then! Happy readings!  ⠀⠀⠀‘’

Hollywood Hills⸝ Los Angeles⸝ California ⋆ July 10⸝ 2017

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓

⠀⠀⠀𝓣HE COUPLE LEFT BEHIND MORE traces in the master bathroom of one of their few close friend’s rented Hollywood Hills pad with their expeditious love-making than those that could be found at a crime scene.

The body-hugging salmon pink satin gown with a V-neck that showcased her small bust and two thigh-high slits that blatantly gave off the fact that she wasn’t wearing any panties which not only was his favorite article of clothing to see her laced in, but the main reason as to why they had ended up in this predicament to begin with was now pooling the sink’s glass countertop like a coat of fresh paint. She swore out that if even the smallest of specs were to end up on that dress before the night were over with, their session would be done for, and so he went through great lengths to ensure that those few minutes of pure bliss that they shared amongst one another were the most memorable.

The lower half of her body dangled from the countertop with the support of only one of his dainty hands palming her bare ass cheek, the other pressed firmly up against the mirror behind them just as she had been dangling from the intense orgasm she had built in the last fifteen minutes.

She could feel her lower back bruising against the steel rim of the glass countertop and her Swaroviski crystal-embellished gold metallic Giuseppe Zannoti Coline sandals slipping from both heels of her feet each and every time his body came crashing into hers.

If it weren’t for her best friend’s colleagues mingling in the living room area right above their heads, she would’ve drove him further by screaming out his name, but she instead channeled the pain and pleasure she was enduring by clenching his 2018 Fall Season Versace print T-Shirt into her fists and burying her face within the crook of his neck, being cautious not to leave her foundation lingering behind just as much as his cologne had been.

“Ooh, Kendrick!” She squeaked, so desperate to meet the toe-curling, joint stiffening, stargazing orgasm they both had been chasing for the past fifteen minutes.

Her body was sinking like an anchor from the countertop, her thighs locking around his torso and her vaginal walls contracting around him like never before. All he could do was work against it. His hand went from smudging the mirror behind them to wrapping around her neck in order to keep her afloat as he mercilessly pounded himself inside of her.

“Shit, Rae, let it go!” Kendrick grunted, giving her a few encouraging slaps to her ass, causing her eyes to roll to the back of her head and her top alignment of teeth to close in over her bottom lip. She without a doubt loved that shit, and he knew it just from the way her thighs quaked.

“I’m cum’n, I’m cum’n, I’m cum’n, baby! Fuck!” She repeated, releasing herself not even a second later.

Now that his primary focus of keeping his woman satisfied had been accomplished, he could finally set it on himself.

[mytwilightimagines13]

Pet (Part Four)

Masterlist

Word count: 1936

11th august 2006 Volterra, Italy

“Stay still, Dolcezza.” Dora said while she used a brush to apply some eyeshadow. “Scusa, Dora.” I said while my hands gently caressed her thighs. Dora had wanted to do my make-up before I would go and see Marcus for the evening, and currently she was straddling my lap with nothing on but a very see-through night gown, easily distracting me, my hands lightly resting on her hips, not knowing where else to place them. “Dora?” the soft voice of Caius breaks the pleasant silence between Dora and I as she works her magic on my face. “In here, my love.” she said, her face lightening up at the sound of her mate's voice. I wanted to move my head to the side so I could greet Caius but Dora grabbed my chin in her slender fingers. “No, stay still.” ���I am sorry, Mistress.” I said. “Careful now, or I will keep you here for the night and Marcus can actually try and pry you away from my grip.” she said, her voice ending in a gentle growl making me shiver in pleasure. Soon I felt strong arms wrap themselves around my waist and a chin resting carefully on my shoulder. “Buonasera amore mio, bambina. Has she behaved today, Dora?” Caius asked, his voice low and husk. Dora smirked softly and leant forward to gently peck her husband's lips. “Yes, she has been a good little principessa. So, she will be treated like one for now.” her lips moved to my forehead and pressing a gentle kiss to it, making me blush. “That is very good. I love it when you behave well and we can treat you, bambina.” Caius whispered in my ear before gently placing his lips against the side of my neck where Marcus’ bitemark resided. Overall, the Masters and Mistresses left their bitemarks on my neck and shoulders while the three elite guard members stuck to my wrists. But that didn’t mean they didn't occasionally bit over each other's bitemarks when their instincts took over for the most part, or just to annoy one of the others. A small smile played around my lips while Dora put the finishing touches on my face. She put the brush down and let her fingers gently move down my cheek. “Sei bellisima, Dolcezza.” she whispered. “Si lo è, amore mio.” Caius agreed as he moved his arms from me to stand behind his wife, taking in her artwork on my face. I blushed deeply. “Grazie, Master, Mistress.” I whispered while looking down at my hands. “It is only because I value my brother's happiness that I will let you go from our grasp tonight, bambina. Or else we would have kept you here and ravished you until the sun came up come morning.” Caius whispered as he gently made me look at him, the look of a predator in his eyes making me blush even further. I looked back down at my outfit which was a simple evening gown in a deep red colour, my shoulders completely bare and the skirt was just above my feet to make sure I didn't trip over it. It was one of Dora's many, many gowns. Dora sighed and slowly got off my lap and gently pulled me up by my arms, helping me stand steadily on the new, deep red heels that accompanied the gown beautifully. My hair was being held up by a single, large and heavy silver clasp that was decorated by very expensive looking gems. “Hmm,” Caius said as he approached me. His fingers lightly traced my collar and he spoke very fast to Dora in what I assumed was ancient Greek. Dora giggled and seemed to agree to what he was saying making Caius smirk. “Very well, bambina. Off you go.” Caius said after a few seconds more before taking a step back to stand next to his wife again, wrapping an arm around her waist. I gently bowed my head to them and slowly left their chambers, careful as to not trip over the heels nor my dress.

It took me about 10 minutes to leave Caius and Dora's chambers and enter Marcus’. I slowly made my way down the long hallway to the very last room opposite to the entrance door. My heels clicked loudly against the stone floor and my heart was beating in anticipation. Once I reached the door, I gently patted down any non-existing creases before gently knocking. The door was quickly opened by none other than Marcus. His appearance taking my breath away. He was wearing a full suit, apart from the jacket and the sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up. His dress shoes shimmered in the candlelight coming from his bedroom and his red tie was still neatly tied around his neck accompanied by his Volturi crest that all the kings and queens wore. It was made of pure gold, like the crest of the higher guard. The only difference was the stone at the bottom. Each King had their own colour diamond in them. And every diamond had their own meaning. Marcus had a blue diamond that stood for peace, truth, devotion and eternity. Peace and truth for his place as judge, jury and executioner. Between the three brothers he was the most peaceful and always sharing the truth, how painful it might be. Devotion and eternity were for his loyalty to his coven and their cause, keeping the vampire world safe with enough humans to sustain them for all eternity while they reign. Marcus smiled at me, his smile even reaching his usual sad eyes. “Cara mia! I was slowly getting worried that my brother and sister had claimed your attention for yet another evening.” he said as he held his hand out for me. I smiled and gently placed my warm hand into his cool one. “I am sorry for making you worry and wait, Master. That was not my intention.” I said while Marcus pulled me towards him and into his bedroom, closing the doors behind him. He gently nuzzled his face in my neck taking in my scent. “I forgive you, cara. Although, it is not your fault that we like to revel in your presence.” his lips gently pressed themselves against the bitemark he left the first time he had been buried deeply within me. The memory, I was sure of it, would forever remain with me and send shivers down my spine in delight. “To lose ourselves in your scent and your love.” his lips moved upwards to my ear while he spoke. “Even the slightest touch of your fingers can make any man or woman long for more, not to mention what those lips can do.” he finished before gently claiming my lips, as if to prove what he just told me. The touch of his lips against mine alone was enough to make me sigh in pleasure. It wasn't a kiss full of lust nor need. It was a simple kiss, one that made my head spin a bit and yet made me long for more. Marcus pulled away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against mine for a few seconds longer and finally pulled his face away from mine. “Well then. I have a few things I would like to see your improvements in.” he stated, his voice becoming very serious, yet a playful glint remained in his eyes. “First off I would like to talk about your dance lessons. I do hope Demetri, Felix and Heidi helped you out in that aspect while in the ballroom. And I mean dances such as the waltz or any other form of dance that would be appropriate in company. I am not talking about, according to what Aro told me, what you like to call the ‘Devil's Tango’.” A deep red blush spread over my cheeks as he mentions this and at the same time remembering all my dance lessons with the three higher guards. “I am well aware you have practised that specific dance with the three of them on multiple occasions. The broken mirrors and furniture are proof of that.” and if possible, an even deeper shade of red coloured my cheeks now at the memory. “But I want to see if you improved on your other dances as well. Did you practice?” he asked as he gently stroked my heated cheeks. “Yes Master.” I said, gently biting my lip and trying to calm my heart down. “Good.” he said before his grip on my loosened and he made his way to a large stereo in the corner of

the room. Soft music came through the speakers once he pressed certain buttons and in the blink of an eye his left arm had wrapped itself around my waist while his right hand held my left one in a very careful way. I bit my lip and placed my hand on his shoulder, trying to not get distracted by the hard body I felt as he pressed me close against him. His, nowadays, piercing red eyes bore into my green ones. “Let us see how much you improved, shall we?” he asked and before I could answer his question, had he started his dance, gently guiding me across the room gracefully. I tried to keep up but my human body could not be as graceful as his vampire body, yet he didn't seem to care as he floated in circles, me close to his body and his eyes never leaving mine. After a few minutes the song came to an end and Marcus let go of my hand only to place it behind my head as he dipped me down on the final tune. I was panting slightly from the exercise and the excitement of having this godlike creature float me around the room as in a dream. Marcus had a playful grin around his lips before he gently pecked my lips and pulling me upwards again, helping me to regain my balance. “You are getting much better, Cara. Well done.” he said while gently stroking my cheek. Finally, my breath had calmed down and a small yet very proud smile crept onto my face. “Thank you, Master.” “Now for the other lessons I have been teaching you.” his hand slowly travelled from my cheek upwards towards the back of my head. His fingers gently opened the silver clasp that held my hair together and removed it, letting my long, brown locks fall down in waves. “I want to test your restraint once more, Cara.” his face slowly moved forwards until it was deeply buried in my neck and hair while his hands made their way towards the laces of the corset body on my gown. “Tonight, I will not tie you up. Nor will I blindfold you.” he whispered while his fingers skilfully undid the knot that kept the laces together. “However, you are not allowed to touch.” another pull at the laces, loosening the corset. “And you must keep your eyes closed at all times. Unless I tell you otherwise.” he carefully pulled the body of my dress apart, completely loosening the dress from my body. “Show me what a good little pet you are, Cara mia.” he released the dress making it flow down to the ground, leaving me in nothing but my heels. Dora had insisted on me not wearing any undergarments. A bra wasn't needed thanks to the corset of the body part of the dress and according to her, panties where nothing but a nuisance anyway. “Yes Master.”

Next Part

[4ft10tvlandfangirl]

911 4x14

I have to commend Oliver Stark on his performance before anything else. I really hope to see a primetime Emmy in his future because what he gave us in those first 10 minutes was pure gold. The absolute raw energy and emotion that he used to get to Eddie and get him to safety, my goodness. He pulled Eddie under a whole ass firetruck with one arm! While crawling backwards himself!

And the way he picked him up after??? I couldn't decide if I should fan myself or continue gaping like a fish. Then the whole ambulance scene; Buck's desperation to put a stop to the bleeding like the EMT's around him couldn't possibly help Eddie fast enough and Eddie's first words to Buck being "Are you hurt?" Fam. FAM. We really got some good Buddie content in those first 5 minutes let me tell you.

I honestly hit rewind on that first part so many times because it was so freaking good. Seeing Buck outside the hospital right after Eddie goes into surgery his voice breaking, hands shaking and then we got to Buck breaking down with Christopher and I just-I lost it. Bravo performance.

Bathena was *chef's kiss* I am so happy that fight didn't last long and they communicated and made up. Can we appreciate how Athena looked to Buck when she decided to do something reckless for his dad her husband? She knew he was the one to turn to and she could trust him to have her back right then. I loved that. Athena walked through that fire like the war goddess she is and got her husband back! That scene was pure fire, pun intended.

Loved Hen and Karen family getting to see Nia again. That was such a sweet moment, well deserved. I hope they can have a sort of blended family situation with Nia and her mom. The extra love and support will surely help more than hurt.

I appreciate the writers highlighting what Maddie is going through. Postpartum depression is such a serious thing that not enough people talk about (my Mom went through it with me) and I'm so glad Maddie's admitted she needs help and spoke to Chim about it. It's sad but I look forward to how they'll deal with it and I hope we get some great Madney scenes from this as well. I love them and just want them to be happy.

Was I happy about Taylor? No. But, I was very pleased that Buck didn't run after her and seems to finally be learning his worth. You know where he did run to? Straight to 'Eds'.

Fics have had Buck calling Eds for so long I legit can't believe this is the first we're hearing it in canon. I am definitely sure this is the first time Eddie has called Buck 'Evan' though. I had to rewind that part too, holy shit his voice went deeper when he said it. And we got our Buckley-Diaz family confirmed y'all. Buck is Christopher's other dad. I mean we been knew but now there's a legal document that says so and I'm LIVING.

Do I even need to mention the significance of Ana not having any lines? Even probie had a line! Side note, I am actually very relieved that Ravi was not killed because I hope to see more of him in future. If Albert is assigned to 118 (yay!) maybe they can be friends.

Anyways, still losing my shit over the first 10 minutes of the episode. I'm not even bothering with the writer's interview because they know what they did. They know what they've been doing. Buddie is real #clown4life and I shall enjoy reading all the lovely fics to come.

[vemuabhi]

Disney Romance - Mermaid Mullan! - 200 followers special

Thankyou for requesting Bas!!! ( @basilisa-scorpii​ ) I was a bit nervous writing this! As you are one of my favorites and are so talented. Actually i too didn’t watch many movies. Only those 10 that I mentioned. My friend was in disbelief when I told her that I didn’t watch frozen. Apparently it was a big deal for her as he almost watched every Disney princess movie.

So, its my first fic writing for the 200 followers! Please read it without having any high expectations. I may not reach them.

Pairing : Zoro X Mermaid! Reader

Word count : 3.6K (Sorry, the concept was so interesting and I couldn’t stop)

Warnings : A long ass fic written by me, read at your own risk. CRINGE ALERT!, has magic, bad action scenes, happy ending or else I’ll cry, a lost marimo.

“Tsk… Lucky mermaids. They just get to go and play while I have to learn these stupid spells”, you opened the new book of spells, which had a brown cover and was very heavy. The cover had a design of a mermaid.

You started to read the spells. Being born in the clan of spells mermaid, you always thought that you were one of those unlucky mermaids who can’t just play with the fishes. You were a very young mermaid and didn’t understand the importance of them.

Growing up, these spells always helped to escape from so many troubles. You could even go to the land using these spells. Hiding your scales and turing your tail into legs.

One fine day in the ocean, while you were making preparations to go to the land, a white-haired half – octopus approached you. ‘Not again’, you sighed.

“What now Ursula? I need to leave”, Without hiding your irritation, you asked her.

“Y/N going to the land again? Why won’t you use my help? I’ll turn you into a human then you don’t have to rely on your powers and get weak every time”, she said as she twirled around you.

There are many powers that can be mastered in the spell book and your main power being in Teleporting but you did learn many other spells, including turning your tail into legs. But every thing has a counter action. The more demanding the spell, the more of a toll it pays on your body by making you weak, leading to even death. Taking your real mermaid form and taking rest in the ocean can help you regain your power.

“The princess asked me for legs and I gave her what she needed”

“The princess? Why did she ask you for legs?”

“Love, she was in love with a man, are you also in love?”

“No and I’d never do that for a silly thing as Love”

“But, you are going to Land using your powers. Aren’t you tired of it dear”

You sighed at how she never gave up on you. “Why? So that you can take my spell book or my family sapphire stone?”, your eyebrow raised with annoyance. She gulped and tried to open her mouth to say something but too late. You weren’t interested in listening to her so you snapped your fingers and Teleported to land.

You didn’t like to teleport when people were talking but you didn’t want to listen to her toxic convincing again. Like hell you needed her powers. You’d rather lose your powers then to give her your spell book or the sapphire stone, which was now, in the necklace you were wearing. It was also called as the second chance.

You went to the small house mostly made of stones. It was just had 2 rooms. You opened the box which you found in the ruined ship and wore the male clothes which were in it. After coming to the land you observed that, most of the men would be creepy when you were wearing women clothing, which lead you to throw those men away. When you wore men clothing, no one glanced at you. And you didn’t get the chance to waste your powers. So you preferred to be dressed as a man.

You took the gold coin which was actually the last one you had in the box. ‘I need to find a way to stock these’, you thought as you started to make your way into the town. Apparently, these people got super mad at you when you ate and tried to leave. They called this… money? If you remember correctly.

At first it was pure curiosity what the Land was of. But after being addicted to the food here, you couldn’t help but to come back regularly. While in the sea all it was available was sea weed and raw food. It was good but it wasn’t even comparable with the food on land. The humans had some tasty food called fruits. And they were of different varieties like mango, orange, apple, berries etc. Oh, how delicious the meat was, when it was cooked. So, you kept coming here using your powers. The food was worth it!

You headed towards the place where the old humans make food, you were their favorite customer as you always gave them a gold coin every time you visited. They were poor and the gold you gave them, helped them to even get out of the debts. You reached the place and started to eat while some people quarreled. But you didn’t care. All you looked at was the food before you. You were always given a small size powerless trident and a small sword with it. You didn’t know why they were used.

“HEY IDIOT! ARE YOU THE ONE WHO ALWAYS GIVES GOLD COINS? GIVE THEM TO ME”, someone shouted but you were too busy in eating.

“Sir please, leave our customer. That man is being very kind to us old people”, pleaded the old man but he didn’t care.

“You jerk! Why the hell are you ignoring me?”, some one slammed their hand on your table making your apple almost fall down. ‘Unforgiveable’

You glared at the man beside you as he grabbed you by the collar and pulled you up, just before he punched you, you snapped your fingers and he froze in his place. He couldn’t move. You clenched your fist and punched him in the face making him fly across the room.

Everyone stopped doing what they were doing and looked at you in disbelief. The person you punched was a strong guy who always took peoples valuables. A green haired soldier was totally stunned. ‘A person this strong was in a small town like this’, he thought. He went towards the person who was trashed by you and noticed that he was knocked out. ‘It seemed a bit different but, that guy can help a lot’, he thought. The soldier turned around to look at you but you were already leaving.

Placing the money which was required to pay on the desk, the green haired man ran in your direction. “Hey dude!! Wait a minute!”, he called to you. But you were busily eating the apple which had the pretty red colour.

‘I need to get more of these golden coins. Maybe the ship which crashed in the western side has some of these’, making plans on how to get more of these, you walked towards the shore.

You then felt a hand on your shoulder which made you to stop. Looking over your shoulder, your eyes met with black orb. The man had green hair and a scar on one of his eyes. He was muscular and well built. He had three golden coloured earrings on one of his ears.

“Hey dude! I wanna talk to you”, he said removing his hand from your shoulder. You took a bite of your apple and turned towards him. You raised one of your eye brow at him as you folded your arms.

“I am so amazed that a powerful man like you is in this small town. Actually, seeing you fight that rogue, I wanted to ask you if you’d come to the war and be a soldier, like me”, he said with a proud smile.

After listening to the weird man, You turned around and started to walk towards the shore. His smile curved into an awkward one as you walked away. “HEY!! I’m NOT DONE! LISTEN TO ME ONCE”, trying to stop you he shouted again. But as his attempts failed, he ran again and stood before you blocking your way. You glared at him because of it.

“Listen to me. I mean no harm. I’m Zoro, a solider of the Straw Hat army”, he introduced himself as he took your hand and shook it. ‘What… What a weird man’, you thought looking at him.

“You see, we want to use all the help needed to destroy the beard Kingdom. So, come with us and be a soldier of the Straw hat army”, he said.

“Why do I need to fight for your army. I don’t wanna involve in these fights”, you said sternly, speaking for the first time to the man.

“Why not? Just join us. We are fighting on the good side. We wanna give freedom to the people of beard Kingdom”, he inhaled and continued, “If you join I’ll make sure you get good food and 500 pure gold coins”. He was really determined to win the war and also claimed that he wanted to free some people.

You could get the gold coins from many ruined ships, but the way he looked at you with determination to win in eyes you couldn’t help but to sigh. “Let’s meet here tomorrow at exactly at dawn”, with that you continued to walk towards the shore.

“I never caught your name”

“Its Y/N”, you say without turning around but smirked. He was the first human you ever told your name to.

His eye clearly lit up and he grinned as he said, “I’ll waiting, Y/N”. He didn’t notice that his heart definitely did skip a beat then.

Swimming deep into the ocean, you reached your house with in 10 minutes. Before sleeping, you took the spell book and started to refer it again even though you’ve read it multiple times. You still had 12 hours till dawn and it’s be sufficient amount of time till you regain your energy.

As the first rays of sun hit the country, Zoro looked at how beautiful the sea looked. He was mesmerized by its beauty.

“Hey”, you almost startled him. 

“What the… when did you come here? How did I not notice?”, he said with confusion in his eyes.

“Lets go now”

“Ye…Yeah. Let’s go”, he said leading you forward. ‘This person is hiding something’, he thought

“Hey”, you call him as he turned to look at you.

“Why are you going towards the sea?”, as soon as you said that, his cheeks turned red with embarrassment.

“Don’t tell me you don’t even know the rout-”

“I know!”, he said interrupting you and opening the map. You peaked at the map and then looked at him. He was sweating.

“Give, just give it to me”, you took the map and continued, “So where is the location”

“Here”, he pointed towards a white surface on the map. “If we go quickly-”, you tooe his hand in yours and closed your eyes, “We can reach in maybe 5 days”, he ended as you snapped your fingers. He just looks at the place before him. Your eyes open wide upon seeing the white substance in front of you. Your hands hug you as the place was very cool but you were truly in awe by the view.

But Zoro was actually speechless. “What? How? Why? When? Its not even been 5 seconds”, he screamed and continued, “What are you actually? Are you using some sort of Magic?”, he then sneezed.

“I used a spell. Now don’t make a fuss about it. Anyone can do it”, you replied

“NO ONE CAN DO IT!”, he screamed again only for you to ignore.

“What is this white substance”, you asked him as you slowly crouch down and touch it. It was soft and very cold, Making your hand numb. But you were amazed by it.

“Its snow. Don’t do that, your hands will become numb”, he said and took your hands in his and started to rub them. You heart skipped a beat and you didn’t know why.

“Lets go. I think, I know the way from here”, he said and pulled you up with him. With your hands still in his he walked forward. Even though your knees felt weak, you kept walking. He talked about the prince and how great he was.

After 10 minutes, you both saw some men with weapons in the area. With one swift motion, Zoro attacked them and knocked them out. You were actually surprised. You didn’t even notice when he left your side and attacked them. He held three swords at a time. You never saw a person so perfectly using three swords. Oh god, he looked like a demon. He pulled the clothes from those men and handed you one. “Wear this sweater. I don’t want you to get sick”

You wore it and it felt really warm all of a sudden.

“Woah!! Its so warm, fells like Magic”, you smile pulling the sweater even closer to you.

“Tsk… you call this magic and call your spell normal. I cant understand you”, he again took your hand in his. “Don’t… Don’t get it wrong. Its only because I brought you here so its my responsibility to keep you safe”. You place your thumb on his wrist and observe that his heart beat was increasing.

“Your heart beat is increasing”, you said making him glare at you.

After walking for a while, you notice a building ahead of you. It was black in colour and had black smoke coming out from it. Suddenly Zoro stops in his tracks.

“Is it the secret base of straw-hat kingdom, you were talking about”, you asked him.

“It’s the secret base of Beard Kingdom that we are searching for past 1 month. Oh my! We found it Y/N”, he said with a smirk on his face. You snapped your fingers and made the black smoke red hoping someone from the straw hat base see it.

“No, you found it. I just waked with you. What type of shit directions you have”

“Hey! That’s not true. I… I actually was planning to search this with you. But whatever we found it!”, he grinned looking at the building.

“Don’t tell me you wanna take them on all by yourse-”

“What are you saying? I have you now! Let’s kill them Y/N”, he said taking his swords and positioning them. He was a demon. But your heart started to race. It was because of this jerk.

“Ok! Lets go”, you said and silently you both infiltrated the base. Knocking out who ever came across your way.

‘Damn it. There are a lot of people here’, you thought as your breathing became heavy and your legs gave out.

“Y/N, you okay?”, Zoro whispered getting close to you.

“I’m fine”, you said. This wasn’t the time to wine and you knew it.

“Thankyou. Its dawn and everyone are mostly sleeping. So lets just finish this off and leave”, he said as he placed his hand behind your waist and in one swift motion he pulled you up. Your heart skipped a beat. AGAIN. ‘This is just like the useless romance novels I read’, you thought. ‘Do I like him by any chance?’

“Lets go”, he said facing the opposite direction that you actually should go.

“We need to go this way”, you said to him as he blushed and walked in the correct direction. ‘Definitely not’, you concluded and continued to trash the soldiers in the way. You were late once and a bullet hit your shoulder. Still you didn’t give up.

“Y/N! I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to get you treated by our doctor”, Zoro shouted as he slashed another person, who was twice as big as him.

After a while, you knew, you really needed the ocean. Your body was getting weaker. Teleporting to a really far place with another person, being hit by a bullet and continuously knocking out these strong ass soldiers is really getting hectic.

“You did great Y/N, its okay. Leave now, ill take care of the rest!”, Zoro said but you got determined even more to fight.

“What? I don’t take orders, especially from humans. Lets see who gets more knockouts”, you said. Zoro didn’t know if he should be happy that you didn’t give up or be concerned that you called him a human? So were you not one?

Snapping fingers, you teleported Zoro from one enemy to another and sometimes yourself to win over the enemies. Your shoulder was turning into a shade of purple, but you were too busy to notice. He soon got used to your help. “You make one hell of a partner!”, Zoro said looking at you as he stood on a pipe which was approximately 10 feet above you. You smirked as a big sound made you to look at the strong wooden door.

“WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING HERE!”, A man with a big beard shouted. You snapped your fingers and Zoro was beside you in a second.

“That’s Beard. We need to destroy him”, Zoro mumbled as he proceeded to run further. You were ready to go with him but your vision completely became black and you fell to the ground.

“Y/N!”, Zoro called out to you but you didn’t wake up. You could hear him. You wanted tell him to escape. Then you heard an explosion.

“BEARD!!! I’LL KICK YOUR ASS!!”, an unfamiliar voice was heard.

“Jeez Luffy! Could you hold your horses?”

“NAMI!!!! I’m Scared!”

“Shut up Ussop! We need to protect the peopl- Ladies! *ahem*”

That was too late. Luffy was already fighting with Beard at this point. With the prince fighting, all Straw hat soldiers started to fight with Beard Army.

“Y/N! Y/N Wake up!! Please wake up!”, Zoro took your body in his arms and shook you trying to wake you up.

‘I want to see you one last time’, you thought before your hearing also faded away.

“Please wake up. Don’t die”, he shook you like crazy.

“Don’t do that Zoro! Let me take a look at the wound”

Handing you over, Zoro clenched his jaw. “Please don’t let him die”, he said and positioned himself.

“ASHURA”, he said and went full demon mode on the Beard Soldiers.

After winning over the Beard army everyone was really relieved. But they didn’t celebrate. Knowing one of their soldier was in a critical position.

The doctor checked your pulse and you weren’t alive. He sighed and got up. Covering you with a blanket, he walked out.

“How is he?”, Zoro asked as soon as the doctor stepped out.

“That was a girl and sadly her pulse stopped”, the doctor replied only for Zoro to grab his collar and ask again. “What did you say? It cant be happening. He i mean She cant die, do something”

“I’ve tried everything, I’m sorry”, the doctor said and Zoro let go of him.

He went inside the room to find you covered with a blanket. He pulled the blanket down to see your face again. He sat beside you and took your hand in his.

“I’m sorry. I made you come here even when you clearly didn’t want to. I am sorry”, he apologized holding your hand tightly. “Is there any spell to bring you back. If there is, I wish you to come back, please get a second chance”

Then he saw the sapphire necklace glow. He was shocked at this. If anyone would’ve told him that magic existed a few days earlier, he’d have brushed it off. But after seeing you, he believes in it.

Just when you felt that you were surrounded with nothing but light, your ocean coloured necklace glowed, as if it was calling you back. You opened your eyes and could see light and also a person with green hair. His face lit with happiness and he hugged you.

“Zo...ro”, you called as he pulled back to look at you.

“Y/N! You are alive!”, he said as he took your hand and kissed it.

“You!! You Human! How could you!”, your cheeks turned pink at his actions.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were a girl?”

“I never said that I were a boy”

“You are alive again so I’ll let it slide for now, also that stone and those scales on your cheek”, he said and you snapped your fingers to hide the scales.

“Whatever… I saw that you cried when I died”, you blabbered but it turned out to be true as his cheeks turned red.

“I did not”, he tried to hide his embarrassment but failed. You chuckled at his reaction and he smiled at you.

“EHHH!!!! YOU ARE ALIVE!!!!”, the doctor screamed looking at you then suddenly a weird guy with a straw hat came in beaming with energy.

“SUGOI!!! You are alive! then we all can celebrate on the occasion of you being alive and also winning the war!”, he said coming towards you.

“I guess… Thanks”

“Show me your powers when you get well okay!”, he said as he gave you a wide smile and left.

“Was he the prince Luffy that you are so fond of”, Zoro nodded

“He is the man worthy to become a King. But tell me this, are you a fish?”

“Actually, that’s not totally wrong. I’ll tell you what you need to know. Let’s teleport again after some time.”

The next day.

“Its… Its actually pretty cool. I never thought I’d see a half fish and half human”, Zoro said as he tugged on your tail.

“Ouch! Be careful. The tail can be strong but it is also very sensitive, and can you please start using the word mermaid”, you said splashing water on him.

“So, tell me. How strong are the mermaids? Are they all as strong as you?”, he curiously asked not hiding the intent to fight. You chuckled and started to tell him about the creatures of the ocean. But its just been 3 days since you met him, but you two already had a.... weird connection.

Zoro tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and looked into your eyes. The timing was so perfect. Maybe it was because he was there. You moved closer to kiss him and he also returned it. Maybe the mermaid princess wasn’t totally wrong to choose love…

XOXOXOXO

Thankyou for reading. I warned you with cringe alert in the beginning but if you made it through the end, congratulations!

Comment your feelings down in the comments!

Follow for more sappy content!

[theficplug]

l Sunflower Vol. 6 l Harry Styles l

Harry Styles x Black Reader

Warnings: none , pure fluff

[harry and reader feels like it’s just time to let the world know.]

As Harry was coming to an end of an era with the Fine Line album. Sunflower Vol. 6 was the last of the bunch to receive a visual to the groovy almost psychedelic track. 

You remember when the idea of the song came up. You had explained where your nickname Sunflower came from. 

-flashback-

He was sitting on the couch in your shared home with his guitar resting gently across his chest playing the same melody and humming sunflower to himself while watching the rain fall down heavily through the cracked window.

The slight breeze coming through blew his disheveled hair around. Harry had been up all night saying that he didn’t wanna forget the cords and the rhythm of the song that was still coming to him.

You quietly walked down the stairs to find him still up humming and tapping along to the beat as he tried to get into the groove. 

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asks quietly as he sits the guitar aside and opens his arms for you.

“No, but the cold giant you shaped empty spot in the bed did. Tea?” you ask chuckling softly before handing him the mug in your other hand and kissing the top of his head. 

You had also brought blankets with you and draped it over the both of you while settling onto his lap and resting your head on his shoulder. You watched as he instantly relaxed and settled back against it at the sound of your voice. Placing a gentle kiss to your forehead he accepts the pink mug.

“Thank you love.” he says quietly to you before trailing his hands up and down your leg gently as he takes small sips of the earl grey. 

“I love nights like this. It reminds me of growing up back home. My mama would yell at my dad and me for dancing around in the rain.”Don’t come in here asking me for vapor rub and soup when y’all are coughing up a storm”. She would say with her face all scrunched up. But we knew it was from a place of love because every time she’d end up running out to joining even if only for a few minutes and she had an umbrella. But the deal was that I couldn’t complain about being woken up at 5am to get the hot comb before school. She knew she couldn’t resist dancing to My Girl with us. To our neighbours who were always in our business we probably looked like a bunch of maniacs just laughing and being happy to love and be loved. ” you explained to him and he would chuckle softly and tell you about how he wished he knew you when you were kids.

 He swears that he would’ve known then that you were it for him.

“I was 6 years old when I got the name Sunflower. As usual it was my mother, father , and I sitting on the porch. I was just sitting eating sunflower seeds and staring out at the rain. Waiting for my father to set up the radio and put our favourite songs on. We ran out onto the grass and as he twirled me around. My father said to me “you’re my sunflower because you always grow towards the sun and bring such a light to our lives. Becoming your parents was the best day of our lives. Getting to see you grow is the small moments of magic in this life. That’s how I knew you were the one for me. Because he didn’t think anyone was good enough for me, but when he met you and you actually got him to laugh with you and say yes to proposing to me. I knew this was it.” you explain and laugh at his expression. 

“Bae, are you tearing up?” you ask as he leaned over to kiss all over his face then peck his lips. 

“I’ve just got something in my eye. That’s all. I just can’t wait to share how much I love you with the world. I want them to feel that when they listen to this album.” 

“And they will” you reassure him 

-present-

After over a year and a half of dating and being engaged you knew that it was time to share it with the world. There was only so much can take after 10 years of speculations. He was more than ready to tell everyone that there was only one woman he wanted to spend his life with. 

He’d like to have a meal with a childhood friend without him being painted as a cheater on someone he wasn’t even dating in the first place. 

A sigh of relief washed over you both when the video finally wrapped. You remember telling Harry that if you were going to be a part of this video you wanted the entire crew to be black or at least of colour. 

“Those are my rules , Harold. I wanna put my people on, and no offense baby  but can’t nobody white touch this fro. I haven’t let anyone besides my mother do my hair since I was a little girl. You got me? ” you expressed to him and he nodded because he had already had the idea in mind knowing he wanted to put his money where his mouth is with supporting black creatives.

He began searching social media for black hair stylists, videographers, directors , and everyone else that would be needed to get the project done. 

Now it’s less than 24 hours before the world would know about what has been sweetly yours for a little over a year. 

From what you could tell a lot of people assumed that his album was about exes or previous relationships but on the contrary he had actually written one song for closure about a past situation. The rest of the entire album was essentially about you,and how he fell in love with your kindness and how much he adored you. Some of the fans who listened closely picked up on the line in Adore You. ‘Your wonder under summer skies. Brown skin and lemon over ice’ . It was about the vacation you two took a few months before the pandemic right after he wrapped on his newest film. He swore that your mahogany skin glowed under the warm July sun and against the cerulean coverup. That man looked at you like someone told him that you were made out of pure gold. Thus sparking his first track on the album, Golden. You two were even papped together while on the beach with your families but of course most just assumed that you were a family friend. It seemed to be a trend when he’s photographed with a woman of colour before but he reassured you that he was single when he asked you on a date the day he met you at the farmers market. 

-flashback-

He tumbled over his words while trying to ask you about what kind of jam you would recommend for him to bring home to his mother.

“I’m gonna be at her home for the weekend and just thought that I’d bring a few things for breakfast while I’m there. Yours caught my eye. Are these little sunflowers all over the jars?” he asks as he bends down to inspect them. 

“Yeah , you like it? It’s kind of my brand. It’s been a bit of a slow day. I think it’s because it’s gonna rain. Never one to be scared of a little rain. I can tell that this is gonna taste far better than bringing home a jar of Nutella.” you say to him with a small smile on your face. 

After grabbing a plastic spoon for him to try out peach, strawberry, and cherry. He ended up purchasing several jars of all 3, but the cherry jam was his favourite and blushed the entire time you scooped the spoon in his mouth. 

“What’s it like to be so lonely like this? I feel like it would be difficult to not be able to be out with others because you don’t want them to have to go through all of this.I feel like even though someone’s “famous” you’ve got to at least treat people with kindness and some level of respect. ” you say to him as the people pushed their way over to your boutique once they realized who was standing there.

You didn’t even really know who he was because you hadn’t been into One Direction in their prime. So, you knew he was a big deal from the whispers and people walking up to him and asking him for pictures and practically offering him their entire supply. But you just knew him as the dorky slightly awkward and weird cutie standing in front of you in the giant sunhat and pearls that stuttered while trying to tell you about his time working in a bakery before they came over. 

“It’s alright. You kind of just learn to adapt to all of it after 10 years. . I worked there for like a year but we never had anything that tasted this good!” he admitted and you would giggle softly at the complement and give him your number on the receipt. You could see him doing a little shimmy while waving the number in the air. 

-present-

You think back to the conversation fondly before Harry’s low and soothing voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he peeks his head into the room to ask if you want to see the finished video.

You followed him to his little makeshift studio in your home and take a seat on his lap so that you both could see it.

Harry had come up with the concept of you being a sunflower and him being like a bee because he swore he was drawn to you from the first conversation you two had ever said.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your side. He was already trying to hide his smile as the video started with you in a canary yellow dress that flowed over your body making you look like a sun goddess as you twirled with the sunflowers in your afro.

You soaked in the sun and swayed to the music before Harry came into focus. 

You remember that day his mother and your parents were on set because they were going to make a cameo at the end and both of your mothers had been behind the camera giving you both thumbs up and standing with their hands over their hearts the entire time. 

Harry dances across the screen dressed in bumblebee-esque colours with the black and yellow as he danced around you and you looked over at him wide eyed before moving away from him. You followed the script and continued to dance around to the music doing your own thing as he danced around you to get your attention. 

“You look so beautiful babe. Look at you! God damn I am a lucky bastard, aren’t I?” he says giddily laughing and smiling like a boy on the schoolyard with a crush. 

“Oh stop, but keep going.” you say jokingly as you pat his thigh softly. 

“I mean it. You could’ve gone on set just like this with no makeup and wearing this old shirt and looked like perfection itself.” he complements and it was your turn to break into a smile cause this man really was the sweetest little thing.

“Right back at you, sweet thing. I love how they cut your hair for the video. That was probably the best line up you’ve ever had. It was a game changer wasn’t it? You didn’t know black barbers are magicians.” you say giggling as you watch him prance around in the video in the yellow and black suit. 

It comes to the part of the video where your parents and his mother both walk into the shot and your father takes your hand and dance with you as the mothers dance together. 

Harry glides over to you and asks for your hand and your father puts yours in his. 

He twirls you around as the parents look on and you both show your engagement rings to the camera and smile up at each other. 

By the end of the video you and Harry blow a kiss at the camera before sharing a moment of pressing your forehead against his and the video ends.

You sniffle and dab at your eyes with a napkin from his desk and he turns to you before leaning into press kisses to your cheeks and lips.

“I love you and you know that there isn’t anyone else I would wanna tell the world about. It’s going to be just fine because I plan on making you happy for the rest of your life.” he reassures you and you nod before kissing his nose.

“What else can I say Harold? You went from being the awkward sweetheart that wrote me love letters and sung me to sleep when we couldn’t be together to someone I could not imagine life without. If people can’t see that there’s nothing but love and happiness here that’s their business. But this is ours.” you say to him knowing that it’s out of your element to feel so sappy but with him you just can’t help it.

The next day the video dropped along with the caption ‘it’s also our anniversary. So be kind or leave. All the love, H.’ 

The outpour of love and support from his fans and other celebrities was ridiculously overwhelming but well received as you made sure to make a small short follow up video thanking them for all of the love, well wishes, and compliments.

[ a little different for me but i hope you still enjoyed it to the lovely person who requested it !]

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Political economy vs inflation

As Biden lays out ambitious plans to stimulate the US economy and fight inequality with new money creation (spending) and money destruction (higher taxes on corporations, capital gains and the right), a firing squad of economists assembled to issue dire inflation warnings.

They're repeating the economic doctrine of the pasty 40 years, an austerity doctrine that focuses on the inflationary risks of "deficit spending" (when governments don't tax as much money out of the economy as they inject in the same year).

It's a doctrine that made a pretense to being a science, going to far as to create a fake "Nobel Prize" in economics in a bid for scientific credibility (the Nobel administrators eventually folded the economics prize into its administrative remit).

The "neoclassicals" used abstract equations to "prove" a bunch of economic truths that - purely coincidentally - made rich people much, much richer and poor people much, much poorer.

Tellingly, the most exciting development in economics of the past 50 years is "behavioral economics" - a subdiscipline whose (excellent) innovation was to check to see whether people actually act the way that economists' models predict they will.

(they don't)

It's this vain, discredited and shambolic group who have assembled behind leaders like Larry Summers to decry Biden's stimulus spending plans, insisting that we are flirting with hyperinflation and the collapse of the USD as a global reserve currency.

But economists aren't the last word in understanding stimulus and inflation. If you're trying to figure out whether Summers is right and inequality, poverty and crumbling infrastructure are the price of American stability, it's worth checking out the *political* economists.

Here's a great place to start: Brown University economist Mark Blyth's interview with The Analysis, available in audio, video, and as a transcript:

https://theanalysis.news/interviews/mark-blyth-the-inflated-fear-of-inflation/

Blyth doesn't dismiss Summers' inflationary fears out of hand, but he does say that Summers is vastly overestimating the likelihood that stimulus spending will trigger inflation - Summers says there's a 1-in-3 chance of inflation, while Blyth says it's more like 1-in-10.

To understand the difference, it's useful to first understand what we mean by inflation: "a general, sustained rise in the level of all prices."

It's not a short-term spike (like we saw with GPUs when everyone upgraded their gaming rigs at the start of the pandemic).

It's also not an asset-bubble. House prices in Toronto are high, but that's not inflation. They're high because "Canada stopped building public housing in the 1980s and turned it into an asset class and let the 10 percent top earners buy it all and swap it with each other."

For inflation to happen in the wake of the stimulus, the spending would have to lead to too much money chasing not enough goods. Blyth gives some pretty good reasons to be skeptical that this will happen.

Start with the wealthy: they don't spend much, relative to their income. Their consumption needs are already met (that's what it means to be rich). You can only own so many Sub-Zero fridges, and even after you fill them with kobe beef and Veuve Cliquot, you're still rich.

What rich people do with extra money is *speculate*. That's why top-level giveaways generate socially useless, destructive asset bubbles. Remember, these aren't inflation, which is good, because everyone agrees that inflation is hard to stop once it gets going.

They're speculative bubbles. We have a much better idea of how to prevent bubbles: transaction taxes, hikes to the capital gains tax, and high marginal tax rates at the top bracket.

Okay, fine, so the rich won't be able to spend us into inflation after a broad stimulus, but what about poor people? Well, the bottom 60% of the US is grossly indebted, suffocating under medical debt, student debt and housing debt. A *lot* of that will disappear.

That will transfer a lot of stimulus money from poor people to rich people (who own the debt), which is why we need high capital gains and top-bracket taxation. But it will also sweep away a vast swathe of the financialized economy.

The point of long-term debt isn't to get paid off - it's to generate ongoing cash-flows that can be securitized and turned into bonds. Securitization converted "advanced" economies into shambling, undead debt-zombies.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

It's securitization that led to the 2008 financial crisis, and it's securitization that sustains Wall Street's speculative acquisition of every single-family dwelling for sale in America as part of a bid to turn every home into an extractive slum.

Blythe explains that if the rich have nothing to buy and the poor use most of their stimulus to get out of debt, it will likely reorient the US economy to useful things: creating jobs to make stuff that people want to buy.

But what about the dollar's status as a global reserve currency? Won't all that stimulus send other countries scurrying around for another form of national savings? Blyth's answer is pretty convincing.

First, because there aren't any great alternatives: the European economy is growing at half the rate of the US. The Chinese economy is booming, but if you buy Chinese assets, there's a good chance you'll never be able to get them out of China.

Gold? Bitcoin? Leave aside the deflationary risk of pegging your currency to an inelastic metal or virtual token, leave aside the environmentally devastating effect of cryptocurrency (cryptos consume enough energy to offset the entire planetary solar capacity!).

Instead, think of the volatility of these assets, with their drunken, wild swings - countries that dump USD due to inflationary fears are hardly likely to switch to a crypto that can lose 20% of its value in a day.

And remember how much of that volatility is driven by out-and-out fraud, with major crypto exchanges and gold schemes imploding without warning, taking hundreds of millions of dollars with them. This is not a stable alternative to the dollar!

Beyond the lack of an alternative, there's another reason to believe that the USD will remain a global reserve, as Blyth elegantly explains.

Think of a Chinese company supplying the US market. Chances are, that's actually US company's subcontractor, getting paid in USD.

These end up swapped with the Chinese central bank for Chinese money, because Chinese companies need to pay salaries, rent, and other expenses in Renminbi, not dollars. The Chinese central bank holds onto the USDs, using them as a national savings, a reserve currency.

If China were to dump all its USD holdings into the world economy, it would tank the US dollar - which is to say, it burn China's own national savings. China's central bank needs to do something with those dollar savings, so they buy 10-year US T-bills.

Same goes for Germany - net exporters depend on a net importer to buy their stuff, and primarily that's the USA. They are stuck in a form of "monetarily assured destruction," and a crisis of confidence is unlikely "because you’ve got nowhere else to take your confidence."

Next, Blyth takes up is the proposed increase in the corporate tax rate, and he says that investors are actually surprisingly okay with this - he reminds us of Buffett's maxim, "Only when the tide goes out do you discover who's been swimming naked."

A hike in the corporate tax rate has the potential to reveal which of the "great" firms "are just really good at tax optimization" rather than efficient production. It'll smash those unproductive firms to pieces that can be bought by good firms for pennies on the dollar.

The final issue that Blyth takes up is an excellent one for this May Day: the relationship of higher wages to inflation. When the US had large, centrally managed industries with large, centralized unions, there was the risk that higher prices would trigger higher wages.

But the US doesn't have a unionized workforce with guaranteed COLA inflationary rises - there's no "wage-price spiral" risk of higher prices leading to higher wages and then higher prices.

The neoclassical theory of wages is based on the "marginal productivity" and "higher than outside option" theories: wage-levels are the product of how much money they stand to make from your work, and how much someone else is willing to pay you to work for them.

But economists like Suresh Naidu describe how high-tech surveillance can disrupt this equilibrium: you can spy on workers instead of paying them more, can impose onerous conditions on them that wring them of everything they can produce.

This kind of bossware was once the exclusive burden of low-waged, precarious workers, but thanks to the shitty technology adoption curve, it is working its way up the privilege gradient to increasingly elite workforce segments.

Digital micromanagement went from the factory floor to remote customer-support reps to office workers who are minutely surveilled by Office 365, all the way up to MDs and other elite professionals:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

This has led to increased profits for firms - firms now take a larger share of their productivity gains, and workers see stagnant or declining wages. That excess profit represents slack in the system.

It means that even if companies' costs go up, they can hold prices steady - all they need to do is reduce their retained profits.

We've had 40 years of price stability at the expense of a living wage for working people.

Higher wages are only inflationary if we assume that the 1% will continue to extract vast sums from their investments and use them to kick off destructive asset bubbles.

Image: badsci https://www.flickr.com/photos/7941730@N06/8625213990/

CC BY-SA: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[regrettablewritings]

I'm feeling a Nevada Ramirez mood (love that damn asshole) but if you aren't feeling writing for him then I give this up to authors choice. But from the current ships numbers perhaps: 3 (because I wanna get fucked up), 9 (because I have to), 10 (because I would like to know your thoughts) and 11 (because I am wildly curious)

("I'm feeling a Nevada Ramirez mood" Translation: "I want a daddy to spit in my fuckgng mouth" Sorry, I don't make the rules about language translation.🤷🏽‍♀️)

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope:

You'd always kind of sort of lived in a fairytale. In hindsight, though, you probably had to: It's what probably made being with his stupid ass a bit easier. Kind of like you were living in one of those stories where a monster that terrorized some bucolic tiny town could be brought down to size by a soul of pure heart. Maybe even regain his human form.

If only your story had had a happy ending.

In a way, Nevada felt he was to blame for that; clearly, sticking with you had really only encouraged that type of behavior, or so he thought.

And now look where that ended you: All that gross-ass makeup to make you look like your last moments hadn't been agonizing (the coroner insisted it had been quick, but Nevada called bullshit); those stiff clothes that you never would've worn unless you had to (Nevada never would've put you in them if he had more of a choice); eyes closed, never to see the telltale signs of the one you left behind coming undone (actually, in a sick way, Nevada didn't necessarily mind this; it spared him the humiliation).

There wasn't even necessarily any sign that you had been targeted; the general theory really was that you'd been taken out by a stray bullet. But in some part of him, Nevada couldn't believe that. He didn't want to. It just made so much perfect sense in his mind: You were just minding your own damn business, walking home after a shift ended a little later than expected. You were the very picture of innocent and unsuspecting, all vulnerable and without him. In short: That was the perfect time for some rival gang or some shit to take a shot at you.

And the thought made Nevada's blood boil to the point that it evaporated into the air, further polluting these fucking New York skies with his inner toxicity being exposed. He'd make whoever did this to you choke. But not before roughing them up a lil bit. Maybe cut off some fingers. Some toes . . . Maybe a pound of flesh as payment if there was any time left, who knows.

But first, his men had to find them.

To say that Nevada does not take your passing well would be an understatement. He's somehow more violent. Somehow a lot less tolerant of bullshit (and he already wasn't before). If anyone so much as blinks wrong, they run the risk of having a nearly feral fuck jump at them and attempt to rip their face off.

His men, who already feared and respected him, dare not occupy the same room as him any longer than they have to. They miss you as a person, of course, but they never knew just how much of a hold you had on their boss until that hand was gone.

Sure, he goes through the usual motions seen in others, like sitting in his chair, downing copious amounts of whatever was left in his liquor cabinet. And, of course, there's the stages of grieving: He's eternally stuck oscillating between guilt and anger.

He was supposed to be the one that got killed out here, him! Not you: Sweet, kind, patient, hard-headed, stupid-assed you! He got that, why couldn't God get with the program on that!? He was the dealer, the gang leader putting himself into all kinds of problems with others; you were just some innocent bystander who happened to get caught in his web, decide they liked it there, and inexplicably stuck around.

And now you're dead. He was being selfish, you were being stupid, and now you were dead.

He stares blankly at nothing before humming with a sip of whatever the hell is in his glass now, he doesn't fucking remember. Can't taste it anyway; his sense of taste disappeared, floated away with your spirit the moment he learned of your passing.

The pure-hearted soul that kept the village safe was gone; all that remained was the carnivorous beast, ready to rampage and raze the town to the ground.

9. Which one swears more?:

Just in time for the 20210 Summer Olympics, we have a new category to observe: Fucking Goddamn Cussing Up a Shitstorm! Representing Washington Heights, we have a cussing prodigy, Nevada Ramirez! Also representing Washington Heights by way of duel citizenship between the apartments, we have . . . You!

Okay but in all seriousness, Nevada is definitely the gold medal-winner here. Science indicates that cussing helps to relieve stress and for as collected as Nevada likes to appear in front of others, 5'9" is not a lot of space for stress to go. He's constantly bottling up that shit! What's worse, though, is that the fucker makes it sound elegant.

How does he make "fuck" sound so gentle when it leaves his lips with a cold-eyed glower!? Who the hell knows!

Erstwhile, you're a pretty good runner-up. Even if you were a big cusser before getting with Nevada, you could never catch up with him -- he's just had way too many experiences where he felt the need to pepper the ambience with some cursing. And if you weren't as into it before . . . I'm sorry, boo, but you'll be picking up that nasty habit of his like you were picking up the torch for the Cussing Olympics. Bon chance!

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other:

Noah . . . How did you know I was planning to do a preference on what characters watch with their S/Os? Not that I can confirm or deny that Nevada was in that one but --

Nevada didn't really watch TV a whole lot before you two got together. It was a mix of him not having a lot of time and him not having a lot of care to keep up with anything. Everything is so goddamn serialized, what's even the point?

Really, the only reason he bought subscriptions to streaming services was to keep you entertained for when he had to be out the house or some junk. But there were a few too many times where he'd come home late and find you curled up on the couch.

". . . The hell're you still doing up --"

"Ssh!"

". . . Did you just --"

"Yes, now sshhh! I'm about to see who this chick picks to go to bed with."

Of course, 'Vada is pissed; people don't shush him, he shushes them! What the fuck could be so interesting that you'd do that!? He takes his glare from you to the screen . . . and about thirty minutes in, he gets it. He'd never say it out loud, but deep down, he knows why you like Love Island. It's stupid, it's trashy, he hates these dumbass twenty-somethings making drama out of nothing, and for fuck's sake will somebody talk to the girl with the dark skin and short hair she's the hottest one there --

Of course, he tries hard not to show his interest, taking seats next to you when you're watching "because he's tired", adding his own commentary "because these pendejos need to know better", etc. And, of course, it doesn't fool you in the slightest. As amused as you are, though, you don't tease him about it; you're afraid that if you do, your stubborn boyfriend would put up a fight in the form of leaving you to watch your silly little show by yourself. And you really don't mind sharing the show with him . . . No, solitary watching is reserved for your cartoons.

Nevada may let things with you slip to a point but the moment he learns you like to watch anything animated, he's on your ass with the ruthless taunting. Which is like the pot calling the kettle black because 'Vada's secret pleasure is even worse: daytime soap operas. Admittedly, there's some sentimentality connected to them (he remembers being at his Abuela's house and seeing her get really into some telenovelas), but the fact of the matter is really more that he's invested in the drama and bullshit going on between all this lunatics who we're supposed to buy as being doctors or CEOs or whatever over-glamorized positions they're supposed to have.

He doesn't actually get to watch them often but . . . hey, that's what he pays certain grunts to do for him.

Okay I had way too much fun writing these so lemme just cut myself off now. Thanks for asking!!!

[her-world-on-fire]

"Did you just kiss me?" {Draco Malfoy x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 3,583

A/N: Vaisey will be reader's ex-boyfriend.

Prompts: 12a. "it was open and i read it."  10f. "Did you just kiss me?"

hii! if u are taking requests, could i get angst #12 from the 150 prompt list with draco x pureblood!reader? where she broke up w her boyfriend bc he cheated but she's forced by her parents to attend his party on Christmas (all pureblood families were invited). draco is there and comforts her but her ex approaches them and fluff #10 occurs? sorry if it's too specific🥺

"You're going and that's final."

I looked over the protective cover staring back at me. I ran my hands through my hair and groaned in frustration. This was the last place I wanted to be. He was going to be there without a doubt. My parents were forcing me to attend a Christmas party, all the pure-blood Slytherin’s were to be in attendance. No exceptions. For weeks I tried to reason with her, but she would not have it.

All it took was one look from him and I was right back where I started. I spent weeks avoiding him as best as I could. Almost every corner I turned, he was there. We shared the same classes and walked the same hallways. Even harder were all the whispers that followed.

"Poor thing."

"What happened?"

"I heard he cheated with Pansy Parkinson!"

I was just leaving the library. I had intended to study for a couple more hours but as I stared at the pages, nothing made sense anymore. The lines on the page didn't look like words anymore. I returned the books before putting my book bag over my shoulder. I sighed as I got up from my chair, trying to adjust after sitting for so long.

As I reached for the door I ran into Terrence Higgs. He almost blocked the door, preventing me from getting out. He was Vaisey's best friend, the two of them grew close being on the qudditch team. "Fancy meeting you here." I spent every Wednesday in the library, and I had not seen him once. He laughed almost nervously, "Where are you off to?"

Immediately I knew something was going on. Terrence almost never made conversation with me. I had overheard that he wasn't overly fond of me. He only spoke to me if he had to, or if I asked him a direct question. I moved to the door once more, "I was just about to head back to my dorm." He stepped in front of the door, "You know I was hoping you could actually help me."

I narrowed my eyes, "You want me to help you?" He nodded unconvincingly. "With what?" I watched as he looked around and stuttered, "With um," He pointed to the book under my arm. "Potions."

"Right." I stepped away from him and left the library. I made my way to the dorms. I planned to go to mine but I figured I would ask Vaisey if there was something wrong with Terrence. As I walked up the steps to his dormitory, I heard a familiar giggle. Pansy Parkinson's laugh was coming from his room. I tried to come up with possible reasons. Maybe they were studying. Pansy Parkinson was in a relationship with Draco Malfoy. There was nothing to worry about.

I reached for the door, and the giggles stopped. I opened the door and found her under Vaisey. He looked up, his head moved away from her neck. His shirt was unbuttoned, I didn't say anything. I closed the door and made my way down the stairs. I heard the door slam behind me. "Y/N." I kept walking, there was nothing he could say that could possibly justify what I saw. "Wait!"

I stopped, and turned to look at him. He has hastily tried to button his shirt. He had missed a button, making it uneven. I shut my eyes, trying to keep the tears in. "How long?"

"It's not-"

I didn't want to argue, and he wasn't going to give me answers. He reached for my arm, but I pulled away. I kept walking. No one else was in the common room, but somehow in a matter of hours, everyone knew.

I was dreading the party. For the first time in two years, I was going without him. I didn't tell my parents what happened, but they pieced together that we weren't together anymore. I looked back at the protective covering, and unzipped it slowly. Velvet. Jade green.

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

I arrived to the party a few hours late. I didn't want to be there any longer than I had to. I approached my mother. She was speaking to the host. I greeted them both and then went to the kitchen. Most were gathered in the living room beside the fire. I had forgotten how lonely these functions were. I looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of anyone I knew.  No luck. I poured myself a drink to pass the time. I looked at the clock. 9 pm, another 2 hours and I was clear to leave.

I heard the clink of glasses, the host was going to make an announcement. I rounded the corner and stood by the living room. Everyone gathered in the living room. I started to feel uneasy, he was here. I tried to keep my eyes fixated on the floor. I gently stirred the drink in my hand, keeping my eyes on the liquid inside.

"No. I am not going to tell you again Draco."

I heard harsh whispers beside me. He scoffed, and his mother joined the group in the living room. He stayed by the kitchen, leaning against the marble countertops. I acted like I didn't hear the exchange. Draco's body language said everything. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face had a scowl on it. Odds were he was forced to be here too. 

It was the perfect opportunity to get the younger generation together in hopes of preserving the pure-blood line. That's what all these gatherings were for. It also gave the hosts a chance to show off their elegant mansions. The rich loved to boast, they loved the competition.

We had attended the same gatherings for as long as we could remember. We shared the same classes, and were even in the same friend group. Draco was the seeker for the qudditch team. We were well acquainted. We just hadn’t spent much time together since we were both preoccupied.

The host was making the traditional announcements. Thank you for being here, and so on.  I sighed and looked at the clock again. It had only been 5 minutes since I last checked. Draco chuckled to himself, "I know the feeling." He looked over, "You mind?" I shook my head and he came and stood beside me. He was dressed in an all black suit. He had gold cuff links and black dress shoes. His fingers had several expensive rings wrapped around them. "These are terribly dull." I remarked, and he nodded in understanding.

Even though neither of us mentioned it, we were sharing the same thought. I'm sorry this happened to you. I looked up, the host was still going on with her announcements. I couldn't help myself, my eyes scanned the room. I inhaled deeply as my eyes caught him. Draco followed my gaze. I quickly looked down and took another sip of my drink. I heard him shuffle beside me. He pulled out a small silver flask. His eyes invited me in. I smiled and brought my cup forward. I watched as he poured from the flask. "Thank you." I said gratefully, I couldn't imagine how I was going to get through the rest of the night.

I took another sip. "Would you like some company for the night?" I asked, normally I wouldn't be so forward. It didn't hurt to ask. He chuckled, as he slipped the silver flask back into his suit pocket. "I wouldn't mind it."

Soon the host dispersed the group and they all moved back to their groups. Draco and I settled in the kitchen. We sat on the chairs by the counters. We talked for the rest of the night, helping the time pass much faster.

"Crabbe didn't say much after that." He said pleased with himself. We both laughed, even gaining some attention from those passing by. Soon after Draco looked down at his watch, "If you'll excuse me for a moment." He got up and disappeared into the living room. Spending time with him made me feel normal again.

I had other friends but they had been walking on eggshells. They weren't sure how to approach me. They treated me like I was fragile, and granted I was. But it was nice to just forget about everything, even of it was for just an hour or two. It was almost midnight by now and the party was still humming vibrantly. I heard footsteps approach, I was expecting to see Draco.

Instead, it was Vaisey. I got up from my chair, I was having a good night. I was not going to let him ruin it. "Just wait." He held out his left arm in front of him. "I'm not going to try anything I just wanted to give you this."

"No. No more gifts no more letters, please. I just want to move on."

"This one is different. Just take it, and I won't bother you anymore. You can decide if you want to talk to me, on your own terms. Just please." He stepped forward slowly and brought a gift forward. It had a silver wrapping paper, and a sterling green bow. I took it and he backed away slowly. "I'll give you some time to think." He retreated back into the living room. I sighed and placed the gift on the table.

I stared at it, the smart part of me said to just throw it away. Don't open it, just get rid of it. But part of me wanted to know. Why was this so special he had to hand deliver it? Curiosity got the best of me. I carefully pulled back the green bow, and the silver box came undone. It fell in cascades. It was a collection of small boxes. I opened each one, and they came with part of a letter. The flaps of each box had photos of us collected over the two year period we were together. My eyes brimmed with tears, I looked back at the frozen pockets of time. We were so happy, so in love. Or at least I had thought.

Pictures of us at games together, me wearing his jersey, his name painted on my cheek. I exhaled as the tears flowed steadily. My heart ached. I wanted this, I wanted to be happy again. I wanted to be in love again. But it just wasn't possible, not with him. I pieced the letter together.

I can't express how truly sorry I am. There was nothing that you did wrong. I was selfish and impulsive. I should've never agreed to meet with her. But you deserve to know. You deserve to know it all. So I'm going to tell you the complete truth. It started when you went to the library to study for O.W.Ls. After our game I went to celebrate with friends. One thing lead to another and I got drunk. Pansy came on to me and I didn't stop her. That was the first time we slept together. It continued until you caught us. In total, we were together for 6 months.

The letter kept going but I couldn't keep reading it. So many different things were running through my head. 

“The first time we slept together...”

“For 6 months...”

I left the letter and the gift on the table. I walked outside of the mansion. Once I got outside I moved to the back of the property. My legs gave out and I finally felt it all. I had been trying so hard to keep it together but this was the last straw. I couldn't do it anymore. I let out a sob and felt the tears stream down my face.

He said it wasn't my fault but his actions said otherwise. I wasn't there and he decided I wasn't enough. I continued to sob. The gravel was digging in, but I couldn't bring myself to move. The cold wind showed no mercy. The air ambushed me, making me feel cold. I heard the door to the mansion close. I kept quiet for a moment, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I heard the footsteps against the gravel. They got closer and closer.

I looked up and found Draco looking back at me.

"It was open and I read it." Draco held up the gift, and the accompanying letter. I couldn't even be upset. He was going through the same thing I was. I sighed and wiped my tears. "I'm so sorry." He dropped down and put the letter and gift on the floor. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."  I couldn't help myself. I cried even harder.

He pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me. "It's going to be okay." He held me as I continued to cry softly. After a few minutes it died down. He pulled back and pulled out a few tissues. He had anticipated what happened when he got back and grabbed a few. I took them and cleaned myself up. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this."

"It's okay, really. I understand." And he did. As he read the letter, it was clear for him too. He took off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders. I went to protest but he shook his head and reassured me he was fine.

"Let's get you out of here."

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

I decided I needed to thank Draco in person. It was the least I could do. I decided the walk would help clear my head. It wasn’t very far, only about 10 minutes. When I arrived at the manor, the gates opened before me. I kept walking to the manor. Once I reached the front door I was greeted by Narcissa. She had always been fairly kind to me. I can only imagine it was due to my lineage. “To what do we owe the pleasure dear?”

I laughed a little, “I just wanted to talk to Draco for a moment, if that’s okay.” She nodded and opened the front door. “He had to go and fetch something in town, but he should be back soon.” I should’ve written him to see if he was going to be busy. It had slipped my mind. I hesitated walking in. “I can just come back another time-”

Narcissa put her hand on my shoulder. “Oh nonsense! You’re welcome wait here.” I didn’t want to seem rude. I hadn’t really spoken to her last night, it seemed only fair. She lead me inside into the kitchen. “I’ll get you a cup of tea.” She gestured for me to sit, so I did. She took a cup from a cabinet. “I can’t help but have overheard what happened.”

I tensed up, this was the last thing I wanted to talk about. Of course she knew, it was her son’s girlfriend after all. “Draco was so torn up about it. You both seemed better last night. I’m glad he has someone like you.” She placed the cup of tea in front of me. “Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy.”

She asked me a few questions about my parents, but nothing to invasive. I was beginning to regret staying when the front door opened. Narcissa called to him, and he made his way to the kitchen. He looked a bit surprised. “I just wanted to talk to you for a moment.” He nodded, and I stood. I thanked his mother again. He motioned for me to follow him. We walked to the stairs, “Sorry, for just showing up. I should’ve written to you first.” He shook his head, “It’s not a problem.”

He opened the door to his room. I walked in and he shut the door behind us. “I don't know how to thank you." He sat down on his bed. "I'm sure I'll think of something later." He chuckled. We talked for a couple of hours, continuing some of our previous conversations.We were going to be returning to Hogwarts in 3 days. “Perhaps we can catch the trolley together.”

Draco had been left in an unfortunate situation. Most of the friends he had were shared with Pansy. In the ride back home he was stuck with Blaise and Pansy. Neither of them had spoken a word. He didn’t want to have to relive that.

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

Draco had kept to his word. We started spending a lot of time together. His presence became comforting. Of course whispers began to follow us again. I tried my best to ignore them. Pansy glared at me in the hallways, as if I was the reason their relationship fell apart. I found it amusing. Her and Vaisley truly deserved each other.

Draco and I were sitting in the astronomy tower. We were studying for a test, but I noticed he was awfully quiet. He was just staring at the wall, a blank expression on his face. “Draco?”

“I think I’ve finally figured out how you can repay me.” Draco stated, making me sit up. Curious, I closed my book and leaned forward. I did say that he could ask for a favor. I almost thought he had forgotten about it. “I’m all ears Malfoy.” He laughed, "Let's have a proper first date." I blinked in shock. I had thought of Draco romantically. But I didn’t anticipate anything to come from it. We had both just gotten our hearts broken, and here we were testing fate. I bit my lip, as I thought over the consequences. Draco tried reading my expression.

“You know I would love to.” 

He decided to keep the location a secret. I tried getting information out of him, but he wouldn’t budge. “But I don’t even know what I’m supposed to wear.” He thought for a moment. “Something warm.” It wasn’t much, but it was something. We arrived at the common room and he walked me to my dorm. “I’ve got some things to attend to, I’ll send an owl soon.” He placed a kiss on my forehead before going back down the stairs. I opened my door and sighed. I looked at my closet and pulled some warm clothes. It was still snowing pretty heavily, but spring was almost upon us.

I got ready and kept an eye out for any owls. A few hours later I heard soft taps on my window. I opened it to find Draco’s owl. I gave him a treat before he left again. I opened the letter.

I had more to do then I intended. I sent a car for you.

Draco

I folded the letter back up and left it on my dresser. I made my way to the gates and sure enough, there was a car. My mind was drawing a blank. As I looked out the window, I watched the snow fall.  It was mesmerizing. The ride wasn’t long, only 15 minutes. Once the car came to I stop I thanked the driver. Once I opened the door, I looked in awe. It was a small cabin. It was decorated beautifully. Warm yellow lights wrapped around it, the walls were covered in a thin layer of snow. Draco was standing at the door, he came and met me in the snow. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He opened the door and we were greeted by warmth. He closed the door and hung his coat by the door. He took mine as well. “Thank you.” He lead me to the kitchen. There was an array of sweets and hot chocolate. I looked at him in shock, “You did all this?” He nodded. “I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for so I got an array.”

No one had ever done something so kind for me. I looked at him in awe. “And I got these too.” He showed me an array of movies. “This is perfect.”

We settled on a movie and moved to the couch. It was right by the fire place. He put in the movie then came and joined me. He took a blanket and placed it over us both. I moved closer to him and he smiled. He moved his arm and invited me closer. Once I did he put his arm around me.

After the movie was over he revealed another surprise. Gingerbread houses. It was something I always wanted to do. I remember mentioning it at the Christmas party. “I know its a little late but-”

“I love it.” I was so happy he remembered such a small detail. Shortly after we got started, his house fell apart. I couldn’t help but laugh, he had managed to set all of this up but the gingerbread house was what got him. “What are you going on about?”

“How did you manage that Draco?” He walked over ad smeared the wall of my gingerbread house. He licked his finger and smirked, feeling proud of himself. “Just like that.” I stared at him for a moment and watched as his eyes trailed to my lips.

He moved closer, the tension between us grew. I thought about how happy he made me feel. I thought about how he had been there for me. In an impulse I leaned forward and closed the space between us. Draco responded to the kiss almost immediately. We broke away and he smiled, "Did you just kiss me?" I laughed and rolled my eyes, going to pull away. He responded by pulling me in once more.

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[fanficsandthings]

Through the Years

A George Weasley Fanfiction 

A George Weasley x Slytherin reader story. Each chapter shares events in one year of George and reader's life together, starting in their first year of Hogwarts.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter 1: The Journey to Hogwarts

It had been a warm, sunny day when you heard an owl screech outside. You watched from the window as it swooped in by your front door, carrying a small letter in its talons. The brown tawny owl sat on the sidewalk for just a second before it hurried away again. You watched it disappear into the distant blue sky. As you walked to the front door you could see that your father was clutching the letter to his chest. It took him a good five minutes of staring at it before he handed it to you. It was your Hogwarts letter. You had been waiting all year to receive it, and your father was overjoyed now that you had. 

You weren’t exactly sure why he was so happy, but you caught him almost sobbing into your mother’s shoulder later that night when they thought you had gone to sleep. You thought for a moment that he was mad about your letter, but after you listened to them speak for a minute you realized that they were happy tears. You had grown up around magic your whole life. Your uncle and your grandparents were all brilliant wizards. Your mother was a muggle, sure, but that didn’t make you think that you wouldn’t get into Hogwarts. You didn’t show any magical ability until you were almost 10, but that fact never really crossed your mind growing up. You had gotten mad at your father one day, for something you couldn’t even remember now, but you were 9, and all that childlike anger boiled up inside you. It burned hotter and hotter until your face was burning red, and then the teacup that your father had on his side table exploded, sending scalding hot liquid onto the carpet and armchair. You expected him to be mad with you, furious even, but instead he had calmly asked if you caused that to happen. You said yes and then tried to quickly explain how you didn’t mean it, but you were cut off. You were being enveloped in a crushing hug and your dad picking you up and spinning and laughing. Laughing? Why was he laughing? You had just ruined his favorite teacup and spilled tea all over the floor. He set you down and took you by the shoulders. “I’m so proud of you.” You looked over at the mess you created, and he waved it off. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll clean it up. You’ve got magic!” He stood up and quickly ran into the next room, searching for your mother. You could hear him laughing down the hallway. “She’s a witch! I can’t believe she’s actually a witch!” Just over a year later, when your letter came, he was as overjoyed as he was the day with the tea. The next day you set out to London to buy all of your supplies. Your mother had stayed at home, but you and your father met up with your uncle in Diagon Alley. He and your father both worked at the Ministry together. He worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, while your father worked in close contact with the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. He worked mainly in Muggle Studies, helping the Ministry to learn more about the average muggle. You were told once that it was one of the lowest jobs you could get at the Ministry, but your father seemed to enjoy it. It was how he had met your mother after all. You learned then to do your own research on matters, instead of just taking other people’s opinions as your own.   Once you had gotten all your supplies from Diagon Alley, you separated from your uncle to head back out into London. You were admiring your new wand, and the fine intricacies on it, when your father stopped to say hello to someone. The man he stopped was an odd looking fellow, with bright red hair sticking up from the top of his head. His clothed screamed pure-blood wizard to you, as they matched almost perfectly with what your grandparents wore; an old robe and a handmade vest. Your father introduced you to the man in front of him as Arthur Weasley, a coworker of his. You waved at him shyly before going back to studying your wand; you wanted to know every fine detail of it. You looked it up and down, from end to tip, ran your fingers over the wood to feel the texture of it. You were about to put it up to your mouth to see what it tasted like when another shock of red hair appeared in your peripheral vision. You looked up, tongue hanging slightly out of your mouth, wand inches from it. Two boys had appeared at Arthur’s side. They looked exactly the same and you had to blink a couple times to make sure you weren’t seeing double. Arthur apparently had twin sons. They were both wearing sweaters that looked almost similar to the ones your grandmother made you, but theirs had letters on them in bright gold yarn. An “F” and a “G.” “These are my boys, Fred and George,” Arthur introduced them. “Well, two of my boys. The others stayed at home for this trip. The twins are enough to handle by myself.” They both turned to look at you. You quickly brought your tongue back into your mouth and dropped your wand to the side. Before they could get a word out to you, their father said goodbye to yours and grabbed them both by their sweaters to push them past you. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” your dad called as Arthur walked away. He turned to you. “Those boys are in the same year as you. Maybe you’ll end up in the same house and can become friends.” You turned to look at the way they went. You could hardly see through the crowd and were just barely able to spot the redheaded father. Only one of the twins appeared to be with Arthur, and for a second you were concerned that the other had gotten lost in the crowd. Suddenly, a face appeared in front of yours. “Fred tied your shoelaces together while you were staring at your wand,” was all he said before he ducked back into the crowd. He headed back towards his father, who was now searching for him, calling out his name. It seemed that George was the nicer of the two twins. You looked down at your feet, and sure enough, they were tied together. One step and you would’ve been face first into the cobblestone. Why the one felt it necessary to come all the way back here just to tell you his brother was a bit of a jerk, you weren’t sure, but you appreciated it. Maybe you could be friends with at least George. Fred, you weren’t so sure about. You looked up at your father to see if he had anything to say, but he was staring at a map of London he had taken out of his pocket. He hadn’t seemed to notice the boy come back at all. ------------------------- September 1st, 1989 snuck up on you faster than you had ever expected it. You spent the last few days of your summer holiday with your muggle friends, as you knew you wouldn’t see them again until at least Christmas. It was hard to say goodbye to them, but at the same time you couldn’t be more excited to make friends who were actually magical like you were. Your father had an emergency at work, so it was your uncle who took you to King’s Cross that day in London. The station was busy and full of Muggles, but it was easy for him to find the correct platform, as he had been there multiple times before. You stopped for a moment to watch a few families make their way through the wall and onto the platform. Still a little bit nervous about using magic to this caliber, you had to be encouraged by your uncle to go through the wall. He took your trolley from you and stood you perfectly center facing the brick. “It’s really quite simple,” he said, bending down to your level. He pointed at the stones in front of you. “Just run straight at it. It won’t hurt you. I’ll take care of your luggage.” You nodded your head and took in a deep breath. Letting out the breath, you started with a jog, picking up the pace as you neared the wall. Your eyes closed when you were within inches of the wall, preparing for the impact. When no impact came, you opened your eyes to see the steam engine in front of you. Your feet stopped moving immediately. You turned around, a big smile on your face, to see your uncle enter behind you. “Welcome to the Hogwarts Express.” He bent down in front of you again to be at your eye level. “Remember, your father is very proud of you. He’s absolutely gutted that he can’t be here, but he wanted me to give you this.” He reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a disposable camera. One like what your mother would use when you went on holiday. “He wants you to use this to create memories and to remember the important ones. You can get it developed when you come home for Christmas.” You nodded at him in understanding. “Now, most of the pure-blood students probably won’t know what this is, so don’t let them get you down for using Muggle technology.” “There’s nothing wrong with Muggle technology,” you told him, matter of factly. “Some of it’s even cooler than magic.” He chuckled slightly at that. “I know, I know. But some wizards think everything made by Muggles is rubbish. Just ignore them.” “Or I could show them how cool it really is,” you said, reaching out for the camera. “Yeah, or you could do that.” He stood up in front of you. “Before I give this to you, I need a picture. Smile.” You stood in front of the train engine with the goofiest of grins on your face. Your uncle snapped the picture quickly and then handed you the camera. “Remember there’s only 26 pictures left on that,” he quickly informed you. “If you make a friend who has an owl, you can always write your mum to send you another one if you run out.” “Will do. Thank you.” You reached towards him and gave him a quick, tight hug. The clock on the wall behind him read 10:55. “I gotta go! Thank you again!” You ran off towards the train as he shouted his goodbye back at you. -------------------------- Finding a compartment to sit in was relatively hard, as they were mostly filled with upperclassmen. Towards the back of the train you eventually found a compartment with two familiar boys in it. They sat on opposite seats near the window, tossing something between the two of them. You knocked on the glass as you slid the door open. “Do you mind if I sit here?” “You sure about that?” one of them asked. “Percy didn’t warn you about us?” “I don’t know who this Percy is,” you told them, stepping into the compartment. “Why would he be warning people about you.” You sat down next to the twin who had on a blue sweater. The other one was wearing brown. “Percy’s our older brother. A third year,” Blue Sweater told you. “He’s been telling people that we’ll prank them if they share a compartment with us,” Brown Sweater said. They continued to toss the small object between the two of them. “Well one of you has already tried to prank me,” you said, looking between the two of them. “But the other one told me about it. So I know I can trust at least one of you.” Brown Sweater stopped suddenly, the small object in his hand. “You told her!?” He tossed the object at his brother, who threw his hands over his face in defense. The object bounced off his forearm, and you caught it as it headed your way. It seemed to be just a small rubber ball. The one who you now assumed was Fred continued yelling at his brother. “It’s not much of a prank if you tell them about it before it happens! I don’t know how I can even call you my brother anymore.” He folded his arms and pouted as he looked out the window at the passing hills. “Fred, stop being so dramatic,” George said. “She was a stranger. And our dads work together.” “You’re lying,” Fred said, now looking at George. “You told her because you think she’s cute.” Now both you and George froze. You could feel the tips of your ears burning hot. You squeezed the ball tightly in your hand as a sort of distraction from this conversation. George mumbled out some sort of defense, but you didn’t hear it. You were too focused on your hand, which now held some sort of slimy black goo. The ball had dissolved when you squeezed it hard enough. “You tricky little gremlins,” you mumbled, caused them to stop their bickering to look at you. “No wonder no one wanted to sit with you.” You stood up, the goo dripped off your hand and onto the carpet. You reached for the door with your good hand. “Hey, we didn’t mean to get you with that, we’re sorry,” George said. You could hear the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah, you’re the one who caught the ball,” Fred said. You turned around and held your black covered hand out towards Fred. “Catch this,” you said, pushing your hand quickly into his face. You let out a wave of laughter as you pulled your hand away and looked at Fred’s face. The goo had gotten into his hair and matted his eyebrows and smeared down the side of his face. George let out a snort as he got a look at his brother. “Good one,” he said, holding up his hand for a high five. You grinned as you slapped your hand against his, sending goo spraying against the train window. “Didn’t think that one through, did you.” “No, no I didn't,” George said, wiping his hand on the seat he was sitting on. You both looked over at Fred, who was still trying to get the goo off of his face, also wiping the contents on his seat. “You okay there, Freddie?” George asked his brother. Fred looked up at him and then over at you. “Yeah, just thinking of a way to get even is all.” “Good luck with that,” you said, reaching for your camera. The twins looked at you curiously. You snapped a picture of Fred’s face, still covered in goo. “What’re you doing?” Fred asked. “Blackmail,” you simply explained, stuffing the camera back in your bag. ---------------------- “Five other siblings?!” you questioned, quite exhausted from the thought of that large a family. “I couldn’t even imagine.” “Yes, unfortunately,” Fred said. “You’re sure to meet Percy and Charlie soon. They’re third and sixth years. Both Gryffindors. Our whole family has been Gryffindors, actually.” “I suppose that means you two are hoping to get the same,” you mused at them. They both laughed. “Not so much as hoping,” George said. “We’re more expecting. Family tradition and all.” “But it’s gonna be awfully dreadful if we get stuck in the same house as Percy for five years,” Fred added. You laughed at that. The twins really had an odd way of viewing their brother. “What about you?” George asked, lightly elbowing you in the arm. “Hhmmm? What about me?” you asked, looking up at him. “Siblings? Family house traditions?” George pressed further. “Oh no. None of that. I’m an only child,” you told them. “Grandparents were both Hufflepuffs and my uncle was a Ravenclaw.” “And your parents?” Fred asked. “My mother is actually a Muggle,” you informed them. “And my dad didn’t go to Hogwarts.” They both seemed taken aback by that statement. “Didn’t go to Hogwarts?” George asked. “Did his parents ship him off to a different country?” Fred added. “No,” you simply stated. “He went to a Muggle school. He doesn’t have magic.” “No way!” they both said, basically shouting at you. You were slightly shocked by their sudden change in attitude. “Your dad is a squib?” Fred questioned you. You looked between the two of them, severely confused at this point. “I’ve never heard that word before.” “A squib is a person who doesn’t have magical powers, but their parents do. Basically the opposite of a Muggle-born wizard,” Fred explained to you. “They’re very rare,” George continued. “The caretaker at Hogwarts is actually a squib. He’s the only we’ve ever heard of before.” You thought over this new information for a moment. “I guess it’s true that he was born to a pure-blood family, but I always thought it was normal for some wizards’ children to not have magic. Just like, as you said, some Muggle’s randomly have children with magic.” “That logic does make sense when you look at it that way,” George said. It was silent for a moment before Fred asked another question. “How did your dad get a job at the Ministry if he doesn’t have magic?” “Working in muggle studies, you don’t need much magic,” you explained to them. “Plus my uncle also works for the Ministry, and he put in a good word for him.” You sat in silence for another couple minutes. You weren’t quite sure what to say anymore after that conversation. It was getting late and you were to be at Hogwarts within the hour. “Hey,” George said next to you. “Yeah?” you asked him. “If I were you, I’d be careful with who you share that information about your father with,” he said. “Because some pure-bloods think everything made by Muggles is rubbish?” you asked, finishing his thoughts for him. “Well I wouldn’t put it that way,” he said. He mulled over his thoughts for a second. When he spoke again, it was soft, like he didn’t really want to say what he was saying. “But yeah. Some pure-bloods think they’re above everyone who is of mixed blood or Muggle-born. With your blood status, I don’t even know what they’d think.” “What about your family?” you asked, looking between the two of them. Suddenly you were very worried that you were telling your whole life story to two boys who were basically strangers. “What?” Fred asked. “You’re pure-bloods,” you said to them. “But your dad reminded me very much of my pure-blood grandparents. And my grandparents would never think like that.” “Neither would we,” Fred said, his brown eyes lacking any hint of mischievousness for the first time since you met him. “Our family doesn’t have much,” George said, “so we know what it’s like to be looked down on by other pure-bloods.” You let out a sigh and looked out the window at the darkening sky. The stars would be out soon, and they were sure to look pretty glittering over the lake by the castle. “I’m sorry that I accused you of that,” you said, tearing your eyes away from the window to look first at George, who quickly darted his eyes away from yours, then at Fred, who held your eye contact. “No worries,” Fred replied. “How about I make it up to you by showing you this,” you said, rummaging around in your bag. You pulled out the camera. “This is a disposable camera. It just takes pictures. Not any of the magical moving pictures, but pictures nonetheless. My dad wanted me to have it to capture memories.” “What kind of memories?” George asked, looking at you again. “Happy ones, I suppose,” you told them. “But also sad ones. One’s that make me feel like I want to remember the moment, no matter what. And you know what? I’d like to remember my first train ride forever. Would you two mind taking a picture with me?” The twins looked at each other and then back to you. “I don’t see why not,” they both said. You looked out into the corridor of the train and spotted a student who looked to be a year or two older than you. You got her to take a picture for you and thanked her as she walked away. “Do we get to see the picture?” George asked expectantly. “Not until I get them developed over Christmas holiday,” you informed them. “That’s months away!” they both exclaimed, falling back into their seats. Even though you had been apprehensive of Fred to begin with, you were quickly growing to like both of the twins. Looking over at Fred, he still had bits of black goo stuck in his hair. You were sure it would take a couple showers to fully wash out. Sitting back down next to George, you sat a little too close to him, your shoulders brushing as you tried to get comfortable. Quickly, you moved a couple more inches away, having remembered the comment Fred had made earlier. You could feel your ears burning hot again, and glancing at George out of the corner of your eye, you were positive that his ears were red too. ------------------------ The twins were right about their family tradition, as the sorting hat was barely on their heads before it sorted them both into Gryffindor. An older redheaded boy was cheering excitedly as they sat down at the table next to him and another redhead. As you walked up to stand in front of everyone to be sorted, you could feel your heart racing. You weren’t nervous; it didn’t matter where you were sorted, as you had no ill feelings towards any house. The scary part was the uncertainty of the future that awaited you. If you got sorted into Gryffindor, you were sure to remain friends with the twins. If it was any other house, you weren’t sure. The thought of maybe losing the first two friends you had made here was what scared you the most. You cautiously sat down on the stool, your eyes turning to the sea of students in front of you. You found Fred and George in the crowd, and they both gave you thumbs ups. Smiling back at them, you let out a deep breath. The hat was placed on your head, and you could hear it contemplating for a few seconds. “I know exactly where you should go,” it said. “Already?” you asked, looking up at the brim. “Yes, I’m quite certain,” it said. You sat in silence for another few seconds before it shouted out “Slytherin!”

[rubix-writings]

Punisher Pt. 10

Tenth part of Punisher. We’re halfway people. This is a Chicago PD/Fire imagine with an original character. I don’t own any of the plot points or characters from the show. Also, it doesn’t follow any particular season or sequence in the shows.

Series Summary: Josephine (Jo) never expected to find support and pure love when she left Los Angeles. She ran away to Chicago and was content with living an insignificant, hidden life. But everything changes when she walks into Molly’s to get a job.

Josephine (OC) x Jay Halstead

The italicized lines are internal thoughts of the character.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, teeth rotting fluff

I followed Voight’s advice to the letter, changed up my routines every day and had Hermann adjust my schedule at Molly’s. I wasn’t making the money on tips I used to with my closing shifts, but it’s necessary. I knew I made the right decision going to Voight as soon as I saw Jay. He knocked on my door the next night with a home cooked meal, he sat with me for a few hours giving me updates on all the things I missed. He came over every day after until I felt “well” enough to go back to work. It’s funny to think you can miss a place, but when I arrived back at Molly’s I was met with a warm welcome by everyone, instantly filling a longing I didn’t know was there. 

“Hey Jo, can you sign for the kegs out front? Make sure they know where to go,” Stella asks before disappearing into the back. I make my way out the front entrance of the bar and sign for the kegs of beer. The two large men start wheeling the beer to the back entrance, I pray that they move quicker. The wind is making goosebumps rise on my exposed skin, making me seriously regret not bringing a coat. My leg shakes as the men are wheeling back the last of the order. 

“Jo?” I turn and see Jay walking up. 

“Hi,” I can’t contain my smile. 

“What’re you doing out here, it’s freezing,” Jay takes off his coat and wraps it around my body. The warmth is immediate and the woodsy smell of his cologne dances across my nostrils. 

“You’re gonna get cold,” I try to protest, but Jay stops me from taking the jacket off and continues to rub my arms. 

“I wasn’t the one that was just sick for two weeks.” Oh right.

“Excuse me, can I get one more signature?” One of the workers asks. I grab the clipboard and sign my name, allowing them to leave to their next delivery. 

“I never got to thank you for bringing me dinner,” I say when I turn to face Jay. 

“You don’t need to, I think eating my cooking was hard enough,” he jokes.

“It was good!” 

“Oh yeah? You really liked that rice?” I laugh.

“Yeah how does someone mess up rice?”

“I don’t know!” I hug Jay, resting my head on his firm chest. His head rests on top of mine. I close my eyes and focus on his heartbeat. I slowly pull away and look up to Jay. His large hands move to rest on either side of my face, he strokes my cheekbones with his thumbs. Jay moves down towards my face slowly fluttering his eyes closed, I gradually met him halfway, closing my eyes at the last second. His lips firmly press into mine before our lips start to move more frantically. I grip his shirt desperately trying to extinguish any space between us. Jay’s soft lips are a sharp contrast to the stubble on his cheeks. I feel like my lungs are going to explode from lack of oxygen, but I lean in as soon as Jay pulls away, not wanting this moment to end just yet. We both reluctantly pull away, Jay rests his forehead on mine. I slowly release Jay’s shirt from my grasp, trying to control my breathing. 

“I should get back inside,” as much as I want to stay in Jay’s arms, I know Stella would come looking sooner rather than later and for right now I want to keep this between Jay and me.

“Yeah Will should be here any minute,” Jay pulls away a little more, looking in the eyes. His piercing blue eyes could melt anyone’s heart. I slip out of Jay’s jacket and hand it back to him before taking a few steps towards the entrance. 

“I’m closing tonight,” I blurt out. “Any chance you’ll lend a hand?” A bright smile spreads across Jay’s face.

“I can do that,” I match Jay’s smile, and then quickly make my way back into Molly’s. I pick up a few empties on my way to the bar.

“Everything go okay?” Stella asks while popping the caps off two beers. 

“Yeah, easy,” I say, avoiding eye contact. Luckily, Stella’s too busy to catch my blushing cheeks. 

I busy myself by filling a couple of orders and opening new tabs. Jay and Will enter the bar, most of the Intelligence Unit is at the bar and they grab seats on the stools next to them. 

“Hi Jojo,” Will snickers. 

“Hi Willy Billy,” Will’s smile falls and he looks at Jay. “Yeah two can play that game.”

“How could you? Your own brother?” Will gasps. Jay shrugs and smiles at me. I grab the brothers some beers and slide them across the bartop. I didn’t notice Will analyzing Jay and me, all I could think about is the kiss we shared outside. It was needy and passionate, all the pent up tensions finally released. 

“You two kissed!” Will announces. Jay and I snap out of it because of Will’s outburst.

“What?” Jay asks.

“You two finally kissed, or was it something more?” Will looks deep into his brother’s eyes. I look around the bar and see everyone staring, my heartbeat fills my ears, almost giving me a headache. 

“Will,” Jay warns.

“You’re giving me nothing,” Will turns his attention to me, his gaze is probing. “It was just a kiss, but…. But you want it to be more.”

“Will,” Jay warns again, everyone else on the other hand finds this exchange incredibly hilarious. 

“Alright, who owes who?” Will asks. Both Jay’s and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I watch stunned as people start exchanging cash, they mumble as they try to figure out who gets the payout. 

“Did you know about this?” I ask Jay. 

“No,” he runs his hand over his face, already exhausted by the night. 

“This is insane,” I whisper. Stella walks up to the group and realizes what’s going on. 

“Oh thank you! What’s my share?” She turns to Kevin and he puts some bills in her hand. 

“You too?”

“Yeah, and I think this shows how good of a friend I am because I was right.”

“I quit.”

“Haha yeah good luck with that,” Stella chuckles before heading into the office. 

Finally the last of the customers exit Molly’s leaving Jay and I in the bar. It was a night full of teasing and betrayal, the more of our friends that showed up at the bar the more the bet was brought up. Even Matt was in on it, he was mad we couldn’t wait another week otherwise he would’ve had the pot to himself. 

Jay is putting empty chairs on top of the tables as I finish wiping down the bar top. I move to start cleaning the booths against the wall. When I stand back up, Jay’s behind me rubbing my shoulders. 

“Are you feeling okay?” I lean back into his warmth. 

“Yeah, I feel really good,” I look back up at him. 

“I’m sorry about Will,” I laugh. 

“That was unexpected for sure, but in the end it made telling everyone easier,” I try to lighten the situation so Jay doesn’t punch out his brother the next time he sees him. 

“Still, it wasn’t his to tell,” he kisses my temple before grabbing the rag and cleaning the next booth. I follow him and grab the rag out of his hand to make him look at me. 

“I can think of a few ways that you can make it up to me,” I flirt. Jay grabs my waist and pulls me in between him and the table. 

“Yeah, I’m happy to oblige,” he leans down and kisses my lips. This time it’s slow and gentle. “Are you free Friday night?”

“I am, what do you have in mind?” I rest my hands on his chest. 

“I’m going to take you out, make it a proper first date,” my hands move to rest on his biceps. 

“First?”

“Yeah.”

“Some would say we’ve already had a first date.”

“When?” 

“When you came over to my place.”

“What, no, that wasn’t a date,” he says trying to think through the nights.

“Well there was food, and just the two of us talking,” I try to reason. ���Well actually we’ve been on multiple dates already.” 

“No, it’s not a date unless I ask you, therefore those were not dates,” I smile. A glimmer of light catches my eye near Jay’s neck. A gold chain peaks out from his neckline. I slowly pull the chain out and run my thumb over the medallion. The details are so intricate, the name Saint Christopher is engraved into the metal. “It’s the saint of protection.”

“It’s incredible.”

“My mom gave it to me before I left for the war, she wore it everyday before that,” I tuck the necklace back into his shirt. 

“That’s a beautiful memory.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s ok to miss her,” he nods.

“I know,” he replies sweetly. “C’mon let’s get moving,” he pulls me away from the table and smacks my butt. 

“How sinful!” I joke. 

“I’ll show you sinful,” he says and begins to chase me around the empty bar. He finally grabs my waist, pulling me back to him. Jay kisses my face relentlessly causing me to scream out in laughter.

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