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dei-lab-assistant · 2 years

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"Technoblade Never Dies"

A short reader-insert story I wrote Thursday night as a way of dealing with my emotions after finding out Technoblade died. :(

Sort of gives the reader a chance to say goodbye. Word count: 1717 words

Everyone saw Technoblade differently. Some of his officers spoke of his impossibly broad shoulders, and tireless right arm, while others recalled a mask of antlers and bone. Those who opposed him on the battlefield and managed to survive returned home with stories of “The Blade,” an inhuman being more monster than man. Disbelieving nurses tending to wounded soldiers heard stories of an immortal being with blazing red eyes and the Devil’s hooves, “The Blood God.” Visiting dignitaries recounted the visage of a stern man, wearing an imposing crown and immaculate clothing befitting his station as a prince. While many shrank from him in fear, the palace servants who took care of him seemed to see a little boy, soft and comely, who threatened far more than he ever intended to actually carry out. Without exception, animals loved him.

You saw your own version of Technoblade. To your eyes, he was a slender young man with flowing pink hair that shone in the sunlight, a man who moved with absolute grace and assurance, a man who stood straight and strong, with the kindest eyes.

You were never supposed to grow up to be anyone important. Your mother worked in the palace, and your job was mostly to stay out of the way. And you knew you were lucky to be in the situation; in most kingdoms a woman who bore an illegitimate child while working in the palace would have been fired. But your mom always said you were born under a lucky star.

As a child, you liked to watch Technoblade train the new officer recruits. Since you always watched from your favorite, vine-covered hiding place, you thought he had no idea you were there. Afterwards, when everyone cleared out, you would grab your stolen practice sword and imitate whatever drills you could remember. However, one day, while you were practicing, Technoblade stepped into your field of vision and grabbed your wooden sword midswing. “I don’t remember recruiting any children to fight in my army.” You started to apologize, but the man laughed and released your sword. “You’ve already got better form than most of the men I was training today. Keep working at it and one day you’ll be ready to fight at my side.”

As you grew older, Technoblade took further notice of your talent and began to give you formal lessons in the art of war. Since you lacked a noble’s title, palace functionaries spoke badly of your rising position in the palace, but Technoblade viewed people with a far more meritocratic eye. Time passed, and in your teenage years you found yourself holding the newly created title of “Technoblade’s Official Assistant.”

In an often dreary world of paperwork and palace intrigue, Technoblade was a bright light, illuminating your world with his gentle dark humor. He played at not caring, he pretended to make fun of those around him, he made you laugh—and behind it all, you could always hear his kindness, a warmhearted soul who seemed so at odds with his incredible abilities with any weapon of war. Once you gained his trust, you risked calling The Blade “Techno,” even though it seemed scandalously informal. Laughing, he called you a nerd who would be better served using that courage to ask for a raise. You laughed too, and asked for a raise. You got one.

By the time you became his assistant, you realized how odd it was that while you grew from a young child to a teenager, he never aged at all. Perhaps this was what was truly meant by his rallying cry of “Technoblade never dies!”

You met his tall blond friend, a man dressed in green with a big striped hat. Of course, you’d heard rumors of this man. After Techno introduced his friend as “Phil,” you asked the green clad man, “Are you Death?”

“You’ve found a gutsy apprentice, Techno.”

“One of the first questions the little brat asked me back when we started training together was, ‘Are you really the Blood God?’ I think finding out I only worked for the Blood God was a disappointment.”

Phil shrugged, and answered your question, “I’m not Death, no. I only work for her.”

As the times changed, the kingdom fell into peace, and the people grew distrustful of Technoblade, who had fought so many battles on their behalf. Soon he was exiled to a quiet corner of the kingdom, where he was supposed to live in obscurity. Although you were offered a position of importance in the palace, you opted to stay with Techno; better to work for a man of honor in obscurity than sully your hands with the schemes of a dozen greedy men vying for power in the palace.

Surprisingly, Techno excelled at encouraging plants to grow, and soon, the two of you were developing new ways of farming. Sometimes you thought you liked this version of Techno best, finding him hard at work in the fields, with a big straw hat and dirt under his fingernails, or hunched over his desk drafting plans for new farming techniques. You helped where you could.

By the time you were in your early twenties, you fell into believing your life would always go on like this. But then one day, while Techno was out in the fields, a knock at the gate brought you out of the rustic compound you both lived in. Phil stood there, awkwardly holding his hat in his hands. Several months had passed since his last visit, but the man was always welcome. Before you could ask him to step inside, Phil jammed his hat onto his head and pulled it down so low it completely hid his eyes. “What’s wrong, Phil?” you asked.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not here as Phil today.”

“What?”

“Today I’m the Angel of Death, and I need you to follow me quickly.”

You didn’t fully understand what he meant, or why you needed to follow, but without a second thought you closed the gate and followed the man.

Twenty minutes later, you stood at the edge of the newest field, which was now strewn with more corpses than you could count. The scent of blood hung heavy on the air.

“What…what happened?”

Your companion shook his head, “These men thought they could sneak into the country here and loot the nearest town. They were fools.”

As Technoblade’s assistant, you had followed him into battle. You knew he was formidable, but you never realized he was this good at fighting—there had to be at least one hundred men lying in the dirt of the field.

A slowly growing fear began gnawing at the back of your mind. “Where’s Techno?” When Phil hesitated, you asked again more urgently, “Where’s Techno?”

The Angel of Death slowly raised a hand to point towards the sea of bodies. Squinting in the harsh sunlight, you glimpsed a dash of pink. “I brought you here to say goodbye.” This was impossible. Inconceivable. Wrong. Opening your mouth to protest, you noticed Phil was silently crying. “You best hurry; he doesn’t have long.”

And that’s how you found yourself running through what felt like a million corpses. Finding the barely breathing body of your friend, you yanked a dead man off of him. With great raspy breaths, Techno forced himself to sit up, leaning against the piled dead to steady himself. “If you’re here to ask for a raise, I think you might have to come back tomorrow.”

“Techno—” Your voice broke as you took in the sheer number of wounds covering every inch of his body. No doctor could fix this. You knelt in the bloody, muddy ground next to him. “I should have been here. I should have fought at your side.”

“Nonsense. I was more than enough for these idiots.” He tried to smile, “But I think I might need a break now.”

“But you can’t have a break!” You knew you were being irrational, but didn’t care. “Technoblade never dies, right? I won’t believe you were lying all those times you shouted it on the battlefield.”

Techno let his hoe fall from his hand, and you realized he had wrought this scene of carnage with nothing but farming equipment. His eyes crinkled in a real smile. “I used to be called “Alex,” a long time ago, before the Blood God marked me as his own.”

“Alex?” The name felt strange in your mouth.

“But that name doesn’t feel right anymore.”

“Techno…” He smiled again when you said his name, “what should I do now?”

Your friend closed his eyes and focused on breathing for what felt like an eternity.

With a Herculean effort, Techno opened his eyes and reached out towards you, “Give me your hand.”

You muffled a sob and took his cold fingers in your own.

“You were right.” He stared into your eyes, “Technoblade never dies.” Suddenly, you felt his hand grow warmer. With a sudden movement, his hand slipped out of yours and grabbed your wrist. His hand was hot against your skin, almost burning you, but his eyes were calm. For a moment, all seemed right in the world. You saw the laughing prince you first followed as a child.

Techno’s fingers turned to ice and fell limply to the ground. You frantically felt for a pulse, finding nothing but an unnaturally cold corpse which moments ago was your friend.

That’s when you first heard the tiny whisper in the back of your mind. Blood. You rubbed your wrist, which still felt unusually warm to the touch. Blood. Phil joined you, gently lifting the body of his friend, but you barely noticed until he spoke to you, asking if you were all right. You nodded numbly, staring in the direction the marauders came from. Phil eventually left, and the sun continued across the sky. As evening arrived, you noticed you had picked up the broken sword from one of the dead men all around you. And the voices whispered again and again. They should have frightened you, but they didn’t, they couldn’t. Blood for the Blood God.

Echoing in your mind, weaving itself amongst the voices, were the last words of your friend, “Technoblade never dies.”

For the first time, you fully understood the meaning of the phrase.

#Technoblade #RIP Technoblade #Technoblade fanfic #Dream SMP #My Content

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

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idk how to continue this one but i also don’t want to leave it just sitting forever so it may be a mess but i’m posting it anyway. think up your own endings or continue it or something.

it’s essentially a timeline divergence from War in Hermittown, so its again watcher!grian, avian!grian, hermit!tommy and triplet au.

hermit!tommy is from @petrichormeraki and this triplet au is mainly based on @strawberrylemonz ’s work.

For the first time since Tommy’s death, Tubbo finally had something to hope for. After some begging and pleading and proving he wasn’t going to do anything bad, Techno agreed to help the teen out with attempting to summon Tommy’s ghost.

Ghostbur was there as they worked as Tubbo thought having a ghost helping out would make things more likely to work. They set up a type of summoning platform, not quite sure how it would work and troubleshooting as they went. They all froze as Philza walked in, just coming to visit Techno. “What’s going on here?”

“Uh, we’re trying to summon Tommy’s ghost.” Tubbo answered feebly under Phil’s gaze.

He looked around at the mess they had made and the summoning platform they had created. “Really? Did you think this was going to work?” Philza asked, making Tubbo look away, feeling ashamed. “Obviously you need soul torches instead of regular ones. And the center should be cobble since it’s his favorite block.”

With the four of them working together, then managed to complete the platform and Tubbo activated it. The torches suddenly blazed taller, the blue flames nearly turning white. Energy filled the air and in the center of the platform, purple magic swirled until Tommy was there, curled up in a ball in the middle.

Before any of them could get out of the shock of Tommy being there, he shifted and grumbled. “Ugh… fucking put your wing back G. this place has no fucking insulation.” His hand blindly grabbed the air before he finally sat up. “Wait, what the fuck?”

Tubbo was the first to break the silence. “Tommy!”

Tommy looked over and his eyes lit up seeing his friend. “Tubbo?” He was hugged by his friend. “Where the hell are we?”

“We summoned you back! And I guess it went pretty well since it also brought you back to life.”

“Back to life? Tubbo I didn’t di- wait we?” Tommy pulled away from the hug and saw Ghostbur, Techno and Philza. “Oh. Tubbo, did you bring me back to the smp?” Tubbo nodded. “And do you have a way to send me back?”

“What? No! Why would you want to go back?”

“Tubbo, I didn’t die, I ran off. Some people found me and took me in. Fuck, when G realizes I’m missing things aren’t gonna go well.”

“Tommy.” Philza started to speak but Tommy stopped him.

“No, you don’t get it. If he realizes I’m gone, he might come here and overreact and might hurt you guys.”

Tommy watched as they all glanced at each other. “Tommy, what kind of person did you end up with?” It was Techno that spoke. And before Tommy could answer his oldest brother, more purple magic swirled, though not at the summoning platform.

Tommy gave out a slight curse and Philza spread his damaged wings to protect Techno and Tubbo as someone appeared. Philza immediately recognized the signs of a Watcher, though the lack of a mask was different. “Tommy.”

“Heeeey Grian. Let me explain. No one’s at fault. I’m fine.”

“You disappeared.”

“Yep, just some people worried about me. Thought I was dead or something.”

Philza readied a weapon the moment the Watcher moved but wasn’t able to do more. Tommy was suddenly captured by the Watcher and he didn’t even try to escape which worried Phil even more.

“And you think I wouldn’t assume the same when you were suddenly gone?” The Watcher then looked down at the summoning platform and broke it. “Now let’s go home, ‘dad’ is going to be worried when he notices we’re both gone.”

“You’re not taking him anywhere Watcher.” Philza spoke, now ready to fight and not just protect. Techno also looked prepared for battle though his dad still tried to keep him back. “Tommy’s my son and he’s going to stay here.”

The Watcher looked over at Philza and the three behind him. They looked familiar. Possibly from the MCC tournaments. “Ah, so you’re the ones Tommy has mentioned. Well, even more of a reason to take him away.”

“Please, don’t take Tommy!” Tubbo managed to push past Philza. The hardcore player tried to stop them, but the teen managed to dodge his hands. “He’s my best friend. I don’t want to lose him again.”

The Watcher looked down at Tubbo, tilting his head slightly. “Tommy?”

“Yeah, he’s telling the truth. He’s big T.”

Philza managed to pull Tubbo back when he saw the Watcher’s eyes glint. “Don’t you dare try to take anyone else. I know what you Watchers do.”

The Watcher frowned. “I don’t think you do. Or you do and you deserve what’s happening to you. Based on the horror stories Tommy has told, I think it’s the latter.” Tommy tried to complain about what the Watcher said but was shushed. “Now, we can always change things, but it looks like Tubbo should be coming with me. You’ve lost your rights to children.”

Philza could do nothing as magic pulled Tubbo next to the Watcher. But he was still able to attack. It was timed just right and as the Watcher tried to leave, he was right there and it pulled him along.

Techno tried to follow along but was too late and just stood where the four now missing people had just been.

When they arrived on the other side, Grian was the only one with a graceful landing. Tommy did okay, but wasn’t used to it. Tubbo and Philza ended up completely face planting on the ground though.

“I didn’t mean to bring you along.” Grian addressed Philza. “I’ll have to take you back before-“ his communicator started ringing. “Nevermind. Hiiii X. No everything’s fine. Tommy just got vaguely kidnapped back to his old world. Yeah. Well I brought a friend of Tommy’s with me. Well they just managed to come along. Yes of course I’ll take him back. Xisuma are you actually asking me to abuse my Watcher powers?”

Before Grian could say anything more, Philza grabbed onto Tommy and Tubbo and started pulling them into the nearby jungle. He gave a shout and started to run after them, but was distracted by the call he was on and was easily tripped up.

“Phil Phil Phil Phil Phil!” Tommy repeated as he tried to pull away. “Phil c’mon we can’t just wander through the jungle! I’m sure if you just talk with Grian he won’t take you back, though X might need convincing.”

“No Tommy. That’s a Watcher. I don’t know how much it’s told you, but they’re dangerous and-”

Tommy dug his heels into the ground. “Dangerous? What? No Grian is, well he’s maybe a bit more dangerous because he’s a Watcher but he’s a pretty chill dude. He doesn’t really use his powers or anything even though he probably could.”

“And what about the other Watcher? You said it was named X?” Philza managed to tug Tommy along a bit further.

“X isn’t a Watcher, he’s an admin. Grian’s the only- look can we just go back and explain it when we’re not running?!” This time Tommy stopped harshly enough and pulled back enough that the avian lost his grip and Tommy was able to get away. He started back towards where they had come from, causing Tubbo to also pull away from Philza.

Phil attempted to grab Tubbo, but he was already running off. He tried to follow along, but ended up moving too fast and tangling himself up in vines. By the time he was free, neither of the teens were anywhere in sight and the hardcore player had to wander aimlessly in the jungle.

He was in a place with absolutely no landmarks and at this point Philza was sure he was just going in circles. The place also had enough shade that some mobs spawned, and dealing with them made him feel even more lost as the small fights left him turned around. Finally, he started going perfectly straight, ignoring any mob he saw and mining away anything in his way. There was no way he could get lost doing that.

It worked perfectly until he broke through a hill instead of going over it. Phil mined right into a cave and there was the surprised shriek of someone who seemed to be hiding there. The hardcore player’s eyes met with the screen of a computer monitor, a face displayed on it. Before he could really react to that, it moved away, making him notice it was attached to a body. It turned a corner and there was the sound of it colliding with something out of Phil’s view.

“What’s going on?”

“Someone broke in!”

Philza paused at the young voices. The first sounded like they could be around Tommy or Tubbo’s age, but the second one sounded much younger.

“Who was it? Scar? If so he probably just crashed a few too many times and needs a place to rest.”

“No! That’s the problem! I don’t know who it is!”

Philza paused, having been slowly approaching the voices. He reached the corner but didn’t look around it just yet. “Then perhaps they are dressed up. I’m sure there is a reasonable ex-” they stopped speaking as they turned the corner and saw Philza. Phil blinked upon seeing another screen faced being and it responded similarly. “Oh, I see. This really is someone new.”

The first one came around the corner and immediately clung to the second. “Who are you!” It spoke, seeming much more confident while next to its larger twin.

Philza stared at the two of them, thoughts about why they were here, what they were and what they knew ran through his head. But he did eventually answer them. “My name is Philza. What about you two?”

“My name is Grumbot and this is Jrumbot.” The taller- by their names Phil assumed they were robots -spoke. “May I ask what you are doing in here now?”

“Well, got a bit lost. Me and my family were kidnapped and brought here and I’m trying to find them again so we can go home.”

“Kidnapped?” The smaller robot asked before he lit up with an idea. “Evil X! He probably did it!”

The hardcore player gave a small sigh of relief. It seemed these two were against the Watchers in this world. “Yeah, I remember that name. Now we got split up in this jungle. There were three of us. Tommy ran off first and Tubbo went after him.”

“Wait, Tommy and Tubbee?” Jrumbot asked, now looking very confused. “But Tubbee’s here and Tommy’s with dad.”

Before Phil could ask more questions, Grumbot made a sound akin to clearing his throat. “Jrumbot, a diamond if you would? It should help us.” the hardcore player watches as a diamond was handed to the taller robot and he placed it into a slot on his monitor. “I see. You are Philza, a former king and father to a total of four sons, adopted a fifth, and have three grandsons.”

“I- wait three? Wait no how do you know this?” Philza asked, stunned, but he got no answer as Grumbot turned to Jrumbot.

“Can you call dad? I’m sure this is much more important than whatever he’s doing.”

Jrumbot nodded and pulled out a communicator. Philza wanted to move or speak but he just felt frozen. Was their information wrong? They didn’t know who he was a minute ago and suddenly they claimed to know more than he did. Or were they really right and- his thoughts were cut off as Jrumbot started to speak.

“Daaaad. Grum and me were playing and someone broke into our cave and we’ve never seen him before but Grum knows stuff about him and says you need to come here cause it’s really really really important.”

“Oh! Perfect! I’m actually looking for some new people!” Philza recognized Grian’s voice coming through the phone. It shocked him and he almost yelled at the phone but then a second voice came through it.

“What do they look like? And don’t say they’re wearing green since they both wear green. Do they look old or young, what color’s their hair, tell me stuff like that?”

“Tommy?” Philza spoke and the phone was quiet for a few seconds.

“Okay, Grian, you head there, I’ll keep looking for Tubbo.”

“Tubbee is here!” Jrumbot spoke into the phone, earning a laugh from Tommy.

“I’m sure he is, but someone else named Tubbo instead of Tubbee is lost in the jungle.”

“Oh, okay!” the small robot said happily before hanging up the phone.

Philza suddenly grabbed the two robots and pulled them towards the opening he had made. “Come on, we can’t stay here. The person you just called is the one who kidnapped us and for some reason Tommy thinks they’re safe to be around. It seems like you two think the same.”

“But he is safe.” Jrumbot said, letting himself be dragged, though he did pull away briefly to untie a lead and hold it, a bee now following behind them. “He’s our dad! And he didn’t kidnap Tommy!”

“I’m sure that’s what he wants you to think.” Phil continued to pull them along, glad at least for the lack of resistance from the two of them. “He’s a Watcher, and those are dangerous. They mess with worlds and-”

He wasn’t able to say more as Grian landed in front of him. He was surprised to see the Watcher wings looked more natural like an avian’s wings, but the rest of him looked similar enough for Phil to recognize him. “Dad!” Jrumbot pulled his arm away, leaving Phil trying to grab him again, but instead he grabbed the lead holding the bee that was being pulled along. The sudden tension made the small robot fall over.

Philza pulled Jrumbot back to him and pushed both him and Grumbot behind them, once more using his damaged wings as a shield.

“What are you doing with my kids?” Grian spoke, sounding serious.

“Protecting them from you.” Philza spat out.

“Prote- You’re the one they should be protected from. Tommy didn’t mention a lot of people he thought he could trust. And I’m sure you’re not one of those people.”

“Then he forgot or was scared to tell you.”

“No, you’re just one of the people he wanted to trust but instead hurt him so much none of us could approach him for the longest time without terrifying him.”

It looked like the two avians were going to argue more, but Jrumbot managed to sneak under one of Phil’s damaged wings and run to Grian. “Dad, he doesn’t seem that mean. He just thinks Watchers are bad or something.”

Grian glared once more at Philza before sighing and looking down at Jrumbot. “Well you’ve seen how Tommy can get sometimes. In fact, he might really need Tubbee for a bit soon.” Jrumbot frowned and crossed his arms, making Grian laugh a little bit.

“Dad, I believe there more-” Grumbot started to speak, but there was suddenly a shout from the trees nearby.

“Grian! I found Tubbo again!” Tommy emerged from the trees pulling Tubbo along. “I explained the gist of things to him and he seems okay with it.”

“Dad really this is-”

“Great. Meanwhile I caught up with the bots and this guy. He was trying to take them away from me.”

“Dad please his name-”

“What the fuck?! Phil these are his kids!”

“Da-”

“Do you want Tubbee now?”

“DAD THIS IS PHILZA MINECRAFT!” Grumbot finally had enough and turned his speech volume to its highest level. Tubbee flew around in shocked circles, Tubbo pulled themself closer to Tommy and Grian and Philza’s feathers ruffled in shock. “As I’m sure you’re aware he is also the king of the former Antarctic Empire.”

“Oh, well that changes things.” Grian said in a matter of fact tone before pulling his sword out. “Now I’m even more upset. This is what you became?!”

Philza drew a weapon of his own. “Oh, so you’ve been watching me for a while, have you?”

The three others looked at Grumbot with a range of expressions from concerned to confused. “Grum what the fuck is going on?”

The older robot just gestured to the two avians staring each other down, each waiting for the other to make a move or let their guard down. “Dad is upset at learning that this is Philza.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” Tubbo asked, not sure how much of this was brand new and how much of this he didn’t know from not being with Tommy.

“Oh, because Grian is one of Philza’s sons.”

“G’s what?!” Tommy yelled, surprised. At the same time, Philza looked over in shock at Grumbot, having heard what was said. Grian took that as a chance to knock Philza down to the ground.

For a full minute, everything was quiet and no one, except Tubbee, moved. Then, Jrumbot seemed to process the information. “Yay! A grandpa!” And he jumped on top of Phil, easily winding him from the weight of simply being a robot.

Grian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, fine. Let’s go to my mansion and talk this out. We can get X and Mumbo to come too.”

#hermit!tommy #hermit!tommy au #grian #watcher!grian #avian!grian #grumbot #jrumbot #tommyinnit #philza #tubbo #technoblade #wilbur soot #ghostbur #My writing #i'm not finishing this

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

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Hot for teacher [5] > Bucky Barnes

PAIRING; Dark!Professor!Bucky Barnes x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 6,693

WARNINGS; Age gap, teacher/student dynamics, smut, sex, oral sex (female receiving), spanking, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, mentions of blood, crying kink, nipple play, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, aftercare, biting/marking, squirting

SUMMARY; Your weekend with Mr. Barnes is in full swing.

NOTE; This took me forever. I’m sorry. Hopefully, all of the sex in this will make up for it! I’m thinking this is going to be the second to last part for reader and Mr. Barnes before this series is complete. I have some fun ideas that get set into motion in this part :). Happy reading!

Line separator by writeyourmindaway!

☞ PART SIX | ☞ SERIES MASTERLIST

FRIDAY.

1493 Trellis Place, you can park in the garage and come in through the kitchen

Can’t wait to see you

You’re still packing your bag when his text comes across your phone. A large smile cracks your face in two as you wiggle excitedly and throw open your closet. You don’t even know what to take, really. You don’t plan on being clothed for the entire weekend, but Mr. Barnes may have different plans for you. You grab a white and blue maxi dress and some white pumps (in case he wants to do something fancy), throwing them in your school duffel bag before you turn towards your dresser.

You grab tank tops and booty shorts, a few pairs of leggings - a girl should always have options - and your absolute favorite bras and panties. You toss your makeup bag and random toiletries - birth control pills, lotion, phone charger, wallet and a small bottle of perfume - on top of the pile of clothing before zipping it up and tossing the strap over your shoulder. With your phone in your hand and a switch in your hips, you head out of your on campus apartment and move towards your Lexus, the lights flipping on as you unlock the doors.

The drive is unexpectedly long. He lives out on the outskirts of town, in a sleepy, upscale neighborhood. You slow down to creep as you move through the neighborhood, passing by cobblestone houses covered in vines and shrouded by mature trees. Siri’s voice rings through the speakers minutes later, telling you that your destination is coming up on your left. It’s a cute little cottage home, set back off of the street. You pull into the driveway and park in the garage, next to his light blue BMW.

You grab your stuff and move through the dark garage, knocking on the door leading to the house before pushing through the threshold. You're instantly hit by the smell of cooking food. You move through the small hallway and come out into an empty kitchen. You set your bag down in one of the bar stools as you glance around the open floor plan before you step towards the stove top. You peek into one of the pots, breathing in the aroma of shrimp and let out a soft moan. A pot of pasta simmers next to it while two steaks sit on a sheet pan, perfectly seasoned and waiting to be grilled.

You jump and gasp when two arms wrap around your waist, but soon dissolve into laughter as he presses his lips to your cheek.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, nibbling on your ear as he rubs your hips, “Didn’t hear you come in.”

You turn in his hands and throw your arms over his shoulders, pecking him on his lips before you move in for a deeper, longer kiss. You moan and giggle as his fingers tickle at your sides. He palms your butt in his large hands before he slaps at it gently and points you towards the bar. You bite his bottom lip between your teeth before you take his suggestion to sit. You rest your chin in your palm as you watch him move around the kitchen, pulling out a red wine and pouring a glass before sitting in front of you.

“You don’t have to get me drunk, Barnes. I’m gonna fuck you either way.”

“Ha ha,” he laughs sarcastically, “Like I don’t know that already.”

You take a sip, moaning a little as you swallow, “Plying a teenager with alcohol could get you fired, you know.”

He laughs again as he places the steaks on the small, built in grill, “But fucking one won’t?” He asks, smirking all the while.

You shrug, “Not in my estimation, no.”

He shakes his head at you as he sprinkles more seasonings onto the meat, “How are you feeling?” He asks softly, dropping his eyes from you for just a second.

“Wonderful.” You answer confidently, smiling as you take another sip of wine.

He cocks his head and narrows his eyes at you playfully, “Come on, drop the attitude please.”

“I don’t have an attitude.”

He smiles gently, “You don’t have to be like that with me. Not all the time.”

You take a breath as you sit the wine glass back on the bar. You spin it slowly as you cock your head and blink back at him. He leans over the counter, taking a deep breath before he taps on your forehead.

“Are you okay here?”

You nod slowly, “I’m not a child.”

“I know that. I acknowledge that. I just want to make sure anyway.”

You take his hand in yours, bringing his fingers to your lips to kiss softly, “I’m okay.” You whisper, not wanting to admit that it’s kind of nice being able to relax your attitude, although briefly, “My pussy is sore,” you smile when he lets out a slight chuckle, “But I’m okay.”

His blue eyes bounce back and forth between your dark ones, “You’re sure?”

You smile slowly, kissing the tips of his fingers again, “Yes.”

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” He asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Yes! Jesus, did you study psychology too?”

He bops your nose with his finger before he moves back to the small grill, “I have a friend who teaches psychology at Yale, maybe I picked something up from him.”

“Oooh,” you sing as you take another sip of your wine, “He sounds very sexy.”

Bucky cuts his eyes back towards you, “Stop it.” You laugh, prompting him to chuck a piece of shrimp at you as he smiles widely, “There is nothing sexy about Steve Rogers.”

“Steve Rogers? I love that name.” Your eyes widen suddenly, “Does he have his Doctorate? Is he Dr. Steve Rogers? Ugh, that’s hot.”

You wiggle your eyebrows as he stares back at you, his eyes squinted, his lips pursed, “What?” you ask innocently, “I’m totally not thinking about screaming out Dr. Rogers as he spanks me over his desk. Totally not.”

“You like doing this to me, do you?”

“What’s that, Mr. Barnes?”

“Making me jealous.”

You nod enthusiastically, “What gave me away?”

----------

This is possibly the best date you’ve ever had. You laugh wildly as you see just how nerdy he is as he recounts stories from his high school and college days. You didn’t realize how nice it would be to see him outside of school, to see him so relaxed and in his own space. It makes you relax - enables you to let your guard down, which is also really nice. It’s so nice, that you don’t even complain when he cuts you off after your second glass of wine and insists that you have water for the rest of the evening.

You help him with the dishes once you’re both finished and let him take you by hand and lead you slowly through the house, giving you a small tour.

“And this,” he says as he pushes through the door to his bedroom, “Is my room.”

You walk in in front of him, your eyes roaming over the spacious room. It’s a bachelor’s room for sure, the color scheme very dudeish, the large King sized bed the focal point of the room. You plop down onto the soft mattress, smoothing your hand over the dark blue bedspread as you glance over the flat screen TV hanging from the wall. Three large bay windows cover the wall to your left that give a great view of his sprawling backyard, complete with a Jacuzzi and pool.

You jump off the bed and peek into the bathroom, smiling slowly as you find it everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Marble floor, a walk in shower and a garden tub, his and her bowl sinks sitting on the counter.

“Mr. Barnes,” you start as you move back into the room, “A girl could certainly get used to this.”

He chuckles, “Good. I was a little worried you’d stick that rich little nose up in the air at my humble abode.”

You click your teeth, “No, I only do that to Cher, thank you.”

“Let’s not talk about her,” he titters, rolling his eyes as he walks up to you, “Let’s talk about getting you out of these clothes.”

You let out a soft breath as his nimble fingers start popping the buttons of your shirt. You keep your eyes on him and bite your bottom lip as he undoes each and every one before he pushes the white cotton shirt off of your shoulders. He crushes his chest into yours as he reaches behind your back with just one hand, unclasping your bra in one swift motion.

He walks his fingers up your arms and over your shoulders as he leans in and sucks on your neck. Your eyes instantly close as you go kind of limp, letting your head roll to the side as you hum. He slips your bra straps down your arms and lets it fall to the floor between your feet. He lifts your arms and places them over his shoulders before he lifts you right from your feet. He carries you to the bed and lays you down, his hand behind your head, guiding you back onto the pile of pillows.

He climbs on top of you and straddles your waist, keeping his mischievous eyes on you as he slowly undoes the buttons on his shirt. You push up onto your elbows, hungry to see his skin, to feel it against yours for the first time. He tosses it to the floor and you instantly reach forward, grazing your fingers over his chest and stomach. You lean forward and plant a kiss on his stomach, and then another, and another as you slide your hands along his back.

You hear him chuckle again and you send your eyes back to his, smiling gently as he stares down at you. He cups your face in his hands and slides his thumb back and forth over your bottom lip and you couldn’t feel any better about yourself. You love being the apple of his eye - his perfect little princess.

He works himself out of pants and pushes you back onto the mattress. He flattens his body on top of yours and attaches his lips back to your neck, kissing a trail between your breasts and down your stomach, right to the start of your skirt. He pulls away to lift each leg and remove your pristine white sneakers, dropping each one to the floor with a thud. He pulls at your skirt, unzipping the side zipper before he helps wiggle you free of it.

“Have I told you how much I like these?” He wonders aloud as he runs his fingers over your thigh high Adidas socks, “I don’t think I have. I really like these.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Barnes.” you answer, your voice sweet and thick.

He grips your thighs, kneading your flesh before he spreads your legs. He settles between them as he flicks his eyes back to yours and rubs his prickly cheek against the inside of your thigh. You hiss at the friction, the soft sensation that ripples through your legs, making you tense suddenly. He drops a kiss just to the inside of your knee before he pushes his face to your sex, taking a deep breath to inhale your scent.

You push your hips into him, encouraging him to touch you. You bite your lip again as he pushes his nose against your clit, the only thing between your flesh and his is your thin, wet panties. Within seconds, your panties join the rest of your clothing on the floor and your feet are dangling by his ears.

You slam your eyes shut as he pushes his tongue through your folds before wrapping his lips around your clit. He sucks gently as his fingers skirt back to your breasts, grabbing your thick nipples. You push your hips into his face as he laps at your opening before pushing his tongue inside of your cunt. You grab his hand that covers your breast and roll your body as he devours you, flicking his tongue against the bundle of nerves at your center before he sucks your folds into his mouth.

You push your hand into his short hair, balling it in your fist as you buck your hips into his wonderfully skilled mouth. He kisses you quickly before he climbs up your body and crashes his lips to yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself. His kiss is hard and deep as he moans into you, his erection pushing against your sex.

“How do you taste, Ms. Prescott?”

You exhale softly as your head swims in arousal and a dreamy haze, “Like sugar.”

“Mmmm,” he moans as he pushes his cock inside of you, making you gasp with the sudden intrusion, “You’re goddamn right, baby girl. You taste just like sugar.”

Your muscles ache as the dull soreness from your first encounter rips through you. It hurts - but it’s sweet. It’s a feeling you wish you could keep forever. You dig your fingernails into his forearms as he hovers over you, his mouth going slack, his eyes closing to slits as he gets used to the tightness of your pussy. You lean up and kiss him hard as you start to move your hips, pushing him deeper into you before he slides out just a bit. You lay back down and wrap your legs around his waist, still gripping his forearms in your hands.

You squeal loudly when he thrusts hard into you, this time not taking a second to breathe. He slams into you over and over and over, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room. You slam your head back on the pillows as he fucks you, ripples of pain quickly followed by rushes of intense pleasure coursing through your body. Just the thought of your pussy spreading for him, stretching out, just for him, makes you tense suddenly - your cunt squeezing him tighter.

He falters - a deep groan slipping through his lips, “Christ,” he mumbles as he drops his head, leaning down to kiss you quickly.

You squeeze your legs around his sides as he buries himself inside of you. The ache starts to bloom in your stomach after only a few minutes and rushes fast, much faster than the first time. You tense hard as your orgasm floods through your body seconds later. You dig your fingers into his skin as your thighs shake and your hips jerk up into his.

He pulls you up and positions you in his lap as he sits indian style, “Oh no,” he starts as he nibbles on your lip, “I’m not finished with you yet, princess.”

He wraps your arms around his shoulders as he bounces you up and down on his dick, fucking you right through your orgasm. Muffled, jumbled words fall from your lips as you convulse, holding onto him for dear life. You drag your hands back through his hair, bunching it in yours hands as your bouncing tits graze against his hard chest. He fucks up into you without a care in the world - his lips curling into a wondrous smile as he tilts his head up towards you, just so he can watch you squirm.

His fingers play with the ends of your braids, pulling gently at first but steadily adding more and more pressure until your head is craned towards the ceiling. You moan loudly as you bounce in his lap, flares of your orgasms still sparking within you. He crushes his chest to yours as his hot, wet lips press against your collar bone. He kisses up to the crook of your neck, his tongue darting out to swipe across the soft, sensitive skin before he bites down suddenly.

You yelp as a sharp pain tears through you. You lean back, using your fingertips to hold on to his shoulders as his dick somehow starts to hit deeper than before. He leans forward and licks a path between your breasts before he circles your nipple, flicking his tongue against it. He takes your tit into his mouth, sucking hard as his hips continue to crush into yours. You fling your body back into his as you start to cum again. Your head falls back on your neck as you screech, your hands gripping his back as you melt around him.

You start to feel a warmth ooze into you, Bucky’s cum filling your wet, sore cunt. He pushes his hips hard - fucking up into you with each spurt. You feel his cock jerk inside of you as he cums, his hand wrapping around your throat. You can barely hold yourself up, and you start to sway as your orgasm recedes back deep within you.

He lets you fall back onto the mattress, his hands helping you down. Your eyes are heavy, your breaths hard, your body limp as he pulls out of you. You feel his weight shifting on the mattress and then his fingers between your folds, rubbing you gently. You jump when his lips press to the inside of your thigh, leaving behind sweet little kisses as he slips two fingers into your achy pussy.

You whine instantly, rolling your hips as his fingers push against your sore muscles. He keeps his pace slow and his strokes gentle as he fingers you, shushing you all the while. He presses his thumb against the bundle of nerves at the apex of your hips and brushes his cheek and chin against your thighs.

“You are such a good girl,” he whispers, “Taking all of me like that.” You roll your head and body, hissing and almost on the verge of tears from the stimulation, “Okay baby, okay,” he whispers, stopping his gentle assault with his fingers.

He keeps his digits buried inside of you as he kisses up to your stomach, down the creases of your your legs, over your hot sex and back to your thighs. He finally pulls out of you and crawls over your spent body and settles on his side next you.

He palms the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip before he leans in to kiss you again - soft and slow. His fingers slip down to your breasts, sweeping over your nipples before he palms them both, squeezing gently before he kisses each one.

“These are beautiful,” he whispers as he brushes the tips of his fingers between your breasts, “My pretty girl.”

You start to shiver slightly, from the cool air rushing from the ac and the light brushes of his fingertips over your skin. He brushes his large palm over your face, leaning it to place another gentle kiss at the corner of your mouth. He slides his hands underneath your limp body and lifts you, cradling you to him as he carries you into the bathroom.

“Wherewegoin’?” you slur as you hear a stream of water start to rush.

“Bath time,” he says softly, keeping you in his arms as he adjusts the water temperature, “You got blood all over me.”

You nuzzle into his chest as your cheeks start to flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He says sternly, not wanting you to be ashamed, “It’s perfectly normal. Okay?” You nod quickly, “You have something for your hair?”

“My bag.”

He sits you on your feet on the soft mat just outside of his shower. He keeps his hand on your back until you steady yourself before he pulls away and disappears from the bathroom. He reemerges minutes later, your flower patterned shower cap and a scrunchy in his hand. He sweeps your braids over your shoulders before he pulls it up into a tight bun. He peeks over your shoulder as he lowers the cap over your head, making sure every strand is covered sufficiently before he lifts you again.

You hiss a little when the heat of the water hits your sensitive skin. He sits your back on your feet gently and adjusts the water, his chest flat against your back until he sees you relax underneath the forceful stream. He plucks the detachable wand from the wall and sweeps it over your chest and shoulders, along your back and then back around your waist and stomach.

He flattens his hand on your stomach as he pushes the wand lower, down to your achy sex and thighs. You watch as the water mixes with your blood as it pushes down your legs and swirls around the drain before it disappears. He reattaches the wand and reaches for his loofah, squeezing a dollop of body wash onto it before he starts to wash you.

He starts at your collarbones with a circular motion. He sweeps over each breast and then underneath them, wanting to clean every crevice of you. He moves down to your stomach, around each thigh before he kneels to clean your calves and feet. You turn and lean against him as soon as he stands, wrapping your arms around him as he washes your back and shoulders.

You separate from him for only as long as it takes him to wash his own body before you fall back into him, the warmth of the water and him radiating through you. The water turns off, but before the cool air can chill your skin, you’re wrapped up in a fluffy, tan towel. He pushes his hands up and down your back and arms a few times before he reaches for his own and towels off quickly - leaving droplets of water on his shoulders and chest. He throws it over his head and roughly dries his hair before discarding the towel to the floor.

He takes you by the hand and leads you back into the bedroom, pointing you towards the bench in front of his bed. He starts stripping the it in all of his nakedness, moving around you as he covers the mattress in a fresh, clean pair of pale blue sheets. Once he’s finished, you’re lifted again and stripped of your towel before you’re laid down, flat on your back. He rummages through your bag, finding your lotion and squirts some into the palm of his hand. He rubs the natural moisturizer into your skin, paying acute attention to every inch of your skin before he flips you over onto your stomach to repeat his actions.

You’re half asleep when you feel his weight press into the mattress again. The room is dark now with only a soft light from the muted tv. The curtains are drawn, the house locked up tight as he pulls you into his body, crushing his chest into your back as he positions you on your side. You feel his fingers brush over your shoulder as he pushes your hair over it - his dick hardening and pushing into your ass as he pushes a leg between yours.

You gasp hard when he slips into you again, your eyes fluttering as your pussy spreads from him once more. He pushes his hips softly into yours as he cups your breasts in his large palms, his lips pressing against your arm. He nibbles and bites as he fucks you for the third time of the day, nice and slow, until you’re quivering from another orgasm, hot tears streaming down your face as you’re overcome by all of the stimulation again.

He presses sweet, slow, warm kisses down your spine as you calm down, lulling you into the best night of sleep you’ve ever had.

----------

SATURDAY.

The clock hanging from the patio flips to two fifteen pm. Your hair is pulled into another bun as you push through the water of his swimming pool. You’re still in the shallow end, standing on your tiptoes as you sip on a fruity cocktail he’s supplied you with and admiring the cute amazon, same day delivered bathing suit he bought for you last night after you fell asleep. You cut your eyes back towards him as he moves out onto the patio again, a plate full of cheese, fruit, crackers, and slices of meat.

You watch with a slight smirk on your face and the small glass pressed against your lips as he moves towards the pool and steps onto the first step, and then the second, before he’s waist deep. He sits the plate of food on the edge of the pool and takes a swig of his beer before he pops a small square of cheese into his mouth. You move over to him, latching onto his back and wrapping your long legs around his waist as you reach over his shoulder to grab a grape.

“How’s your drink?”

“Mmm,” you hum as you chew up the grape before piling a cracker high with thinly sliced salami and a square of muenster cheese, “Super good. Strawberry margaritas are my favorite.”

“Says every teenage girl ever.”

You giggle, but playfully swat at his shoulder as he twists in your arms to face you, “You’ve entertained many teenage girls, have you?”

“Of course not.” He answers, furrowing his brows at the insinuation. You scoff and roll your eyes as he pushes you both deeper into the water, “I haven’t, you’re the first.”

Your eyes wander his face as a sense of pride swells in your chest, “Really?”

“Really. I used to have morals. My career meant something to me.”

“And it doesn’t now?” You laugh.

“It does, but if anybody finds out about us, I’m royally fucked. I’ll never work again.”

You flatten your forehead to his and rub noses before you kiss him quickly, “Nobody is gonna find out, I promise.”

He takes the opportunity to scoff himself, “I mean it. Listen, with as much weed and coke that Peter sells to the students and the faculty of that place, he’d be the first to know if there were any rumblings. He’d shut that shit down quick.”

Mr. Barnes quirks his eyebrow, “Oh, would he now?”

“Stop it,” you say, clicking your teeth, “It’s nothing like that. He and I just go way back, is all. His dad works with mine. He watches my back, I watch his.”

“And Cher?”

You roll your eyes again, “She who shall not be mentioned has entirely too much dirt on her to rock the boat with any sort of accusations. She’d be finished at that school, she can’t afford that.” You take another sip of your margarita as he stares back at you, his eyes searching yours, “I mean it! You’re safe, I promise.”

“I suppose,” he sighs, “Plus, I don’t think I could give you up if I had to, your pussy is too good.”

”Ugh,” you toss your head back as he presses his fingers against your sex, “I’m so sore.” You laugh.

“Don’t say that,” he warns, pressing harder, “It turns me on.”

You groan, but it’s mixed with a laugh. You need a break, but you also want him to ravish you again, becoming quite accustomed to the feeling of his cock keeping you full. He twirls you around in the water, his fingers splayed over your back. You throw your arms over his shoulders and cock your head as you gaze back into his deep blues. You kiss him slowly, moaning at how much you like the feeling of his lips on yours.

You push your tongue into his warm mouth and let it explore - pushing up to the roof of his mouth before sliding it along his own. You suck on his tongue lightly before you bite down on his bottom lip suddenly, drawing a hiss from him.

“Feisty for somebody who’s begging for a break.”

You shrug before finishing off your margarita, “I can take whatever you wanna give, Professor Barnes.”

“Such a champ,” he answers, wiggling his eyebrows, “Can I confess something?” He asks as his fingers push into your bottoms to cup your ass.

“Of course.”

He brings his lips to your ear, “I like making you cry.” He whispers, “I like seeing you so vulnerable and almost... weak. That’s not a side of you that you like to show very often. Makes me feel like you trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

You feel his cock twitch at your words.

He smirks back at you, “Looks like you aren’t catching a break today, Ms. Prescott.”

“Works for me.”

“Tell me,” he starts, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your behind as he starts moving towards the steps, “What’s something you want to try in bed?”

“Exactly that.” you laugh as you bounce with each of his steps.

“What?”

“I want you to spank me as you finger my pussy.”

“Good God,” he laughs as he steps out of the pool, water splashing onto the ground from his trunks, “You didn’t even have to think about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since I was fifteen! I’ve just finally found someone to do it with.”

He collects his beer and moves to one of the chairs underneath one of the large pool umbrellas, setting you on your feet before he plops down. He pulls you over his lap without another word and pulls your bottoms over your ass and down your legs. You hear him take a swig of his beer before he sits it down next to his chair. He smooths his hands over your bare, damp skin, kneading it gently before he levels a quick slap, jolting your forward.

You push a hard breath out of your mouth as he starts to rub your skin again. He smacks you again, and then a second time on the other cheek in quick succession. You moan as your pussy starts to throb, becoming slick. He pushes a hand between your legs and presses his fingers against your flesh, rubbing big, slow circles against your sex. He spanks you again and you grunt, wiggling your hips as you push your ass higher into the air.

He slides his fingers between your wet lips, coating his fingers with your slick before he slides them inside of your cunt, pushing as deep as he can. He spanks you again and again and again, each one harder than the one before as he fingers curl inside of you. He fucks your tingly pussy with his thick digits as you beg for more - beg for him to spank you harder, faster, as you push back into his oncoming hand.

He obliges every one of your requests - until you’re squirting all over his lap. Your ass is hot and tingly, your clit convulsing, your pussy quivering around his fingers as he fucks you right through the intense orgasm. Once you’ve calmed, he withdraws from you and goes back to soothing your irritated, burning skin, picking up his beer and swallowing the golden liquid slowly.

He pulls you upright in one swift, fast motion, making you slightly dizzy. He tilts your head back and brings the rim of his beer bottle to your lips and tips it slowly until a steady stream pours into your open mouth. You guzzle it down, not caring that some dribbles down your chin and onto your chest. When he pulls it away, you wipe crudely at your lips with your fingers before you grab his hand and shove his sticky fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean.

He slips his trunks down his hips, just enough to spring his cock free. You wrap your hand around him and stroke him gently before you straddle his waist. You feel his hands on your back as you guide him towards your entrance, sitting down on him slowly. You let out a soft breath as you wiggle slowly, adjusting your insides to his size. He undoes the string of your bikini top and tosses it to the ground as you start to move on top of him. He grabs his beer and takes another swig as you ride him, his eyes on your tits as they jiggle and bounce.

The two of you lose the afternoon fucking on his patio underneath the shade of one of his large pool umbrellas. Once you’re spent, thoroughly fucked and sore to the point where you can barely move, he feeds you random pieces of fruit and little cracker sandwiches piled high with meat and cheese. He hydrates you with an ice cold bottle of water, tilting it to your lips and letting you drink before he pours a little over your chest to help cool down your hot skin.

He carries you inside after a while and bathes you slowly in his garden tub, before he lays you out on his bed in all of your nakedness to let you nap as he starts dinner. This is turning out to be the best weekend of your fucking life.

----------

SUNDAY.

You lurch forward with each of his strokes, your head craned towards the ceiling as he pulls on the ends of your braids. You grip the sheets in your hands as he fucks you from behind - his hand gripping your side so hard that he just might leave bruises behind. Not that you mind - you’ll have a terrible time trying to cover all of the others he’s splattered across your flesh over the weekend.

You peek over your shoulder and catch him watching the connection between the two of you. He watches your body swallow him up, the jiggle of your ass when it slams against his stomach, and then the reappearance of his cock before he’s buried deep in you again. You squeeze your pussy tight around him, wanting him to be the first to come for a change. He slaps your behind - a stern warning - but you don’t relent, you just keep on squeezing, keep on slamming back into him until he can’t stand it any longer.

His grunts are loud and deep as he spills into you. He tightens the grip on your hair, pulling hard as his cock spits over and over, filling you up to the brim. You feel his spunk spill back out of your fucked pussy and slide down the inside of your thigh.

He flips you over onto your back and slaps at your thighs, wanting you to keep them open. He pushes his cock through your folds, the tip of him tickling your clit. He pushes his knees into the backs of your thighs and rubs your clit with the pads of his fingers before he slaps at it gently. He replaces his fingers with his dick, slapping it against you as his free hand reaches up to fondle one of your nipples.

He rolls your thick skin gently between his fingers, and then pinches and tweaks it as he continues to slap his dick against your sensitive bud, pushing you closer and closer to another release. He releases your nipple to slip his hand between your legs to push them just inside of you - fingering your wet hole. He slaps his dick against your bud a few more times and a geyser erupts from you. Your entire body shakes with your orgasm as you spew your sweet juices all over his stomach.

He continues to tease you, patting your clit with his fingers until he’s sucked every last drop from you. You cover your face with your arm as you pant, your body jerking involuntarily as random sparks of electricity bounce through you. Mr. Barnes slips his hands through your tits, flattening and spreading his fingers along your skin as you bite down into your bottom lip.

“Jesus,” you mutter.

“That’s what you get, naughty girl.” He says, falling onto the mattress beside you.

He pulls you on top of him, and you nuzzle into his chest and neck, dropping sloppy kisses to his jaw and throat, “I’ll be naughty a little more often then.”

“You’re such a brat.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your back.

“You love it.” You mumble, placing one last kiss to the middle of his chest before you settle down into his warm body again.

You close your eyes as he starts to stroke your back with his finger tips, up and down, up and down, up and down your spine in a slow rhythm. You drift off after a few minutes, not sure how long has passed when you suddenly pop your eyes back open. You rub your face as you shift on top of him, glancing up to see his glasses adorning his face one again as he taps on his phone.

“Who are you talking to?” you ask absentmindedly, placing your head back on his chest.

“Cher.”

You snap your head up, pushing away from his chest as your eyes narrow. His body starts to shake with laughter underneath you. You scoff loudly and start to roll off of him, but he stops you, grabbing your wrist to hold you still.

“Oh, relax! Learn how to take a joke.”

“I can take a joke, asshole,” you hiss back, “She is no joking matter.”

He chuckles as he forces you to lay back down on him and tosses his phone to the other side of the bed, “Remember my buddy Steve I was talking about?”

You huff, but cuddles back into him, “Dr. Sexy, I remember.”

“Stop it,” he says, pinching your side playfully, “Anyway, they’ve got visits coming up. I was asking if they were full yet, in case you wanted to check them out.”

You perk up again, “Really?”

“Ummhmm. Is Yale on your list?”

“Of course it is! Yale, Harvard, Dartmouth, Princeton - Cornell and Brown as backups.” You start to kiss all over his face, over his eyes and nose, lips and cheeks as he chuckles, “You’re incredible.”

“Oooh,” He bucks his hips into yours playfully, “I like the sound of that. He’s gonna put you on the list. He also let me know that there’s an opening for a Philosophy Professor in the fall.”

You gasp, sitting up right and drumming your fingers against his broad, shapely chest, “Are you gonna apply?”

He shrugs as he gazes up at you, “I kinda like teaching you privileged assholes.”

Your face falls as you poke out your bottom lip, “But we’ll be so far away from each other. You’ll probably start fucking somebody else next year and forget all about me.”

“You’ll do the same.” He laughs, “You’ll fuck Steve and won’t even remember my name.”

You slap at his chest, making him laugh again, “I will not. Well, I mean,” you toss your eyes towards the ceiling, “I’ll fuck him, yeah, but I won’t forget about you.”

He pinches your sides again and you squeal, squirming away from him as you fill the room with laughter, “Come on, apply for it. Pwease?” You beg, “It’ll be fun going off to a new school together.”

He smiles up at you as he pushes his hands up and down your thigh, “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll convince you.” You say confidently, nodding slowly.

“Will you now?”

“Yes.” You answer simply.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes before he pulls you back down to his chest, “Time for bed, Ms. Prescott. We’ve got school tomorrow.” He says, flipping off the lamp and taking a deep breath, “What time do you want me to wake you tomorrow?”

“Same time you get up. That’ll give me time to suck you off in the shower.”

He chortles again, “That’s one way to get the day started.”

“Well, you know what they say, don’t you?”

“No, Ms. Prescott. What do they say?”

“Cock is the most important meal of the day.”

He laughs loudly as he squeezes you to him, planting a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve got to be the luckiest man on the planet.”

“Indeed you are, Professor.”

716 notes · View notes

mintsuke · 4 years

Text

For Rent || 4.5 - Touché

Kita Shinsuke x f!Reader SMAU

Warning: Mention of implied sex

Note: The cafe is inspired by the Gäbi Coffee and Bakery in Las Vegas. (look up pictures, it’s a really cute place, the bathrooms are just as pretty too I wanted to cry)

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You’re not really sure what you’re expecting on this date. You told Atsumu to just have his friend meet you at one of your favorite cafes in town. Surely a cliche first date location, but you wanted a feel for the boy if you were going to help him out and whatnot.

Arriving at the place, you really hadn’t expected for your date to be there before you. An admirable trait, really. You only heard snippets of Atsumu and Osamu’s high school days, and if you remember well, their robotic captain was always the first in the clubroom without fail.

Digital pictures really never did people justice. That much stayed true when you caught a glimpse of the former volleyball captain. He stood out with his short silver hair, the tips singed with black. From where you stood, he was of average height, his clothes hiding what you imagined was a lean body from years of volleyball and manual work in the rice fields. He was dressed nicely in a beige sweater with a white collared shirt underneath and khakis.

Pretty from afar sometimes meant pretty up close, and boy were you two seconds away from sobbing into your phone.

“Excuse me, are you Miya Atsumu’s friend?” You ask, leaning into his field of vision. A pair of almond eyes focus on your form. The man seems almost stunned by the sight of you, blinking once before his composure quickly returns.

“Yes, are you (L/n) (F/n)-san?”

Oh. Wow his voice.

“That would be me, Atsu didn’t mention any name, so I apologise,” You smile softly as he bows slightly and you mirror his movements in return.

“No worries, Kita Shinsuke, it’s a pleasure to meet you (L/n)-san.”

“Just (F/n) is fine, after all, we are supposed to be ‘dating’ right?”

He doesn’t show any reaction or distaste and simply nods in understanding and suggests you call him Shinsuke. Although, he silently notes the way you refer to his former junior by a nickname.

“Did he mention to you that I’m a... a ‘girlfriend-for-rent’?” You decide to ask, given how absolutely dumb your close friend can be.

The surprise that passes through his expression like a car speeding past is adorable to say the least. His body noticeably stiffens and he shakes his head.

“He only mentioned you helping me out with gaining experience, a ‘fake’ date, but don’t worry about me feeling uncomfortable. I guess I have been stressing a little too much lately, the twins were able to tell.”

“Really? Want to talk about it inside?” You gesture towards the cafe, and he nods. Kita moves to take a step forward when you stop him. The confusion in his eyes and the slight way his brows furrow is cute.

“Is something wrong?”

“We’re on a date, so why don’t we hold hands?”

The idea clicks in his head and he offers a good-natured upturn of his lips, presenting an outstretched hand. Taking it, you make a mental note of the size in comparison to yours, his skin warm to the touch as your fingers lace and he leads you towards the entrance. He only lets go when he has to open the door and beckons you inside. A gesture that makes you a little giddy, given that most dates don’t do so.

A little chivalry never hurt, and Kita was already charming you.

The inside was one of your favorite parts, at least besides the delicious desserts and refreshing drinks. Vintage-esque paintings, planters hanging from the ceiling with trailing vines, tall bookcases lining the walls, and an assortment of mismatched chair and tables that all added to the aesthetic of the place.

He nearly tripped over his own feet when you tugged him excitedly towards the display of desserts. He watched as your eyes glowed with near adoration of the assortment for that day.

“Pick anything you want, I’m paying,” He said as you eyed the earl grey cheesecake. The statement made you stand up straight.

“Wh-what, no that’s okay, I can pay for myself.”

“This is a date right? I’m paying,” He smiles slyly as it soon becomes your turn in line to the register.

Touché, you think inwardly with a pout.

“So let’s hear about it,” You smile as you both find a seat at a velvet love seat with a wooden coffee table settled in front. “If it’s alright with you at least.”

“Of course,” He chuckles lightly, “My grandmother has been constantly bringing up marriage and children whenever she can. I want to make her happy of course, my grandmother is my world. I guess it’s just been weighing down on my mind... and I’m not particularly looking or anything, I guess maybe I don’t where to start... I’m sure Atsumu probably mentioned that I never had a girlfriend...”

“Mm... I see, that’s sweet that you want to make her happy, but you have to worry about your own happiness too Shinsuke,” You say thoughtfully, “I’m sure she means no harm, but there’s no rush in trying to be tied down.”

A smile.

“Thank you, I appreciate your words. I suppose I can still try this ‘trial’ out, if you’re up for it. Practice makes perfect after all.”

“Of course!”

After small talk, a little getting to know the other, all the while enjoying your drinks and desserts, you lead him on a walk. To say the least, you immensely adored the way his facade would crack ever so slightly at the smallest things. The way his eyes widened a fraction and ears reddened as you prodded the seam of lips with your spoon full of cheesecake. To which he accepted and followed with a spoon of his own dessert.

Hands laced together and sides pressed close. You had gone over a few policies, or at least rules to put it a little more informally, since you were going on multiple dates. It was all basic necessities like no feelings and the importance of consent. The last was a given, but you always made it your mission to bring it up as an importance for any and everyone who rented your services.

“You... You don’t do sexual services do you?”

You forget that Atsumu mentioned how straightforward Kita can be. Hearing it coming from him is like a punch to the gut and you cough when you choke on your spit.

“S-sorry, that caught me off guard,” You laugh weakly as you both sit on the swings at a park that had been nearby. He sits idly as your feet push you back and forth in small gentle swings, not enough to catch air or lift your feet off the ground.

“I apologize if it was too forward of me.”

“No, well, no one has really asked me that question...” You reply meekly, “It’s not necessarily part of the job description but some customers ask for it I suppose... but I never really go that far... only twice... I guess... if I were to be real honest with you. Most times I decline because I feel uncomfortable and the guys are really good about respecting me.”

“It’s a little odd since I’m supposed to be catering to my date’s wishes, but I can’t really do anything about it...”

He makes a noise of appraisal. He’s not quite sure why he thinks the way he does. Imagining the other guys you must have gone on similar dates with. Did you take them to that particular cafe as well? Hold their hand and smile that same smile.

“So how do you know Atsumu? I don’t think you attended Inarizaki...”

“I didn’t,” You smile, “He actually rented me a long while ago. A loss game and constant dating rumors were stressing him out, to say the least, he needed a stress reliever and a break from being asked if it’s true he’s dating so-and-so.” You pause in case he wants to interject, but he keeps silent. You opt to changing activity, climbing the playground set despite the obvious sign that reads children only.

“We stayed close friends afterwards, he helps me out a lot, and even Osamu had gotten me a side job at Onigiri Miya.”

Even worse, he sighs inwardly. Another poke to the roaring thoughts inside his head. You had done the same with his junior, if not further?

There’s a shift in the atmosphere, and you both feel a little odd. He wonders if it was a mistake asking about Atsumu. You wonder, on the other hand, if you’ve said too much. But he’s a friend of your close friends, it wouldn’t hurt right?

He seems to notice the awkward air that’s settled around you both and scratches the back of his head timidly.

“That was a little invasive of me wasn’t it? I apologize.”

“N-no it’s alright, you are a friend of Atsu, so I don’t mind,” You laugh slightly.

“Well, if you do feel uncomfortable, or I cross a line, please let me know and I’ll respect you.”

The way your chest flutters at the statement is dangerous. You ignore the feeling as you smile thankfully. He was kind nonetheless and you liked that.

Kita tells stories of his time as a volleyball player, dealing with the antics and constant bickering between the two twins, managing a team of exceptional players. His eyes light up tremendously, almost sparkling as he talks about different moments, both good and sad.

You don’t even realize how you’ve been completely sucked into his world, listening to every word. Watching the way his face turns with nostalgia. He pauses every now and then to gauge your reaction, smiling momentarily to see you so invested in his tales.

“What about you? Why did you decide on working as a ‘girlfriend-for-rent’?”

Oh.

Emotion spills onto your face, more than you mean to, and Kita is quick to notice the shift in your expression.

“That...”

He shakes his head and puts his hand up to stop you, “It was a touchy question wasn’t it? Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you...” You offer softly, almost reluctant to speak in case your emotions start going haywire. Your mood immediately drops and he’s aware of this.

When Atsumu pulls up to pick you up, you stop in your tracks and turn to your date. He watches curiously as you move closer, until the distance gradually lessens and your body presses to his. Arms wrap around his middle and he’s speechless for a second.

“It’s a hug Shinsuke, we’re dating still, right?”

Ah. Yeah. He chuckles, a little relieved that despite his mess ups, you still continued to act accordingly. This was business as usual after all.

+Taglist | Closed!

@differentballooncollection @sugawsites @oikawalmart-hq @tremendousglitterthing @90s-belladonna @kiyoojima @unqstuffles @chaelysian @arisu003

(comments replies will be from my main blog @minnochu | couldn’t tag in bold)

#For Rent mintsuke #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu social media #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kita shinsuke x reader #kita smau #kita x reader #kita shinsuke smau #kita imagines

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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

Text

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 12

Chapter title: Beliefs

Word count: about 4100 words

Author’s Note: How did I write over four thousand words?? Mostly I’m just grateful this chapter got out in time, but still. Wow.

First | Previous | Next

...

Over the next few days, Team Sonic dedicated their time to helping their counterparts recover from the exhausting ordeal of the past couple weeks. Tails worked to replace some of Omega’s burnt-out wiring (from his attack on G.U.N.), while Knuckles and Sonic...well, they wanted to take care of Rouge and Shadow, but it was very difficult when both Mobians kept insisting that they were “fine really, don’t worry about us so much” despite looking like they could collapse at any second.

The general stress level on the island was only raised upon a second call from the president, since she requested that a few of them come see her to discuss what should be done with G.U.N. at her office. Shadow and Rouge obviously weren’t going. Neither of them were ready to deal with the president, let alone the press (even if the latter continued to insist otherwise). The sheer idea of being in the same city as G.U.N. had especially shaken Shadow, even if he refused to say so.

Sonic had seen how he cringed at the mere idea.

Since Knuckles absolutely refused to leave his island, it was decided that Sonic, Tails, and Omega would travel together to see the president and hear what she had to say. She seemed pretty trustworthy, and if any of her staff wasn’t...they’d be able to handle themselves just fine.

While Tails helped haul Omega into the back seat of the Tornado (an impressive feat considering that he’d used to struggle with lifting Sonic in his early years) and prepared for takeoff, the hedgehog in question was zipping all around the island, trying to make sure everything would be okay while he was away and unable to defend his friends.

“You guys are sure you’re gonna be alright?” he asked for what was probably the fifth time, after Shadow had needed to physically stop him from starting a mini-whirlwind.

“Yes, Blue, we’ll be fine. Now go! You don’t want to keep the president waiting!” Rouge insisted, pushing the worried hero towards the Tornado.

He twisted around, trying to make eye contact with both of them. “You’re really, really-”

“Sonic.” Shadow said calmly. “It’s going to be alright. I promise.”

The hero could practically feel his body untense, finally willing to jump onto the top wing of the biplane and prepare for takeoff. Before Tails fired up the engine, he took one last look at his friends.

Knuckles had walked up beside Rouge and looked like he wanted to put his arm around her waist without being awkward...which just made him look awkward anyway. The bat took the initiative herself, leaning against him comfortably. Her eyes were back to teal again, since she and Shadow had both taken out their contacts pretty quickly.

Rouge had taken off her leather jacket by now, and Sonic could see it lying on the altar next to Omega’s generator- Angel Island was pretty warm, after all. Shadow was still wearing his hoodie, though he’d taken off the glasses. Omega had tried them on once out of curiosity and nearly broken them in the process...so the hybrid simply hadn’t bothered with it after that. His quills were still in a ponytail, which Sonic wasn’t complaining about in the slightest. (It was a good look on him, that was all!)

He switched on his earpiece and settled into his ‘flight’ position once again. “You guys read me?”

“Loud and clear, hon.” Rouge said. “Now go!”

The Tornado’s engine kicked up a roar as the plane wheeled down the clearing and began to lift off the ground. Knuckles and Shadow both waved, while Rouge opted for a mock-salute, which Sonic returned cheerfully as the plane pulled up above the altar.

He crouched low on the top wing as Tails pulled into a turn, angling the plane so that their course was set for Central City yet again. The fox switched on the turbo engine, too, but it would still take them about an hour and a half to reach the city at this rate.

To pass the time, Tails and Omega started talking almost immediately about how they needed to take some time in the workshop to fix up the latter’s various dents and scratches. Both of them seemed pretty excited about this- the former because he’d get to return to his workshop, the latter for style reasons, and both because they’d get to spend time together. Somewhere along the way, Omega insisted loudly that Tails “must return me to my original color as soon as it is possible to do so.”, clearly less than happy about his current paint job.

Sonic sighed as the conversation turned to advanced technical terminology, feeling a little bored. It was a little funny for him to say so, considering that he was blasting through the sky on a biplane going at speeds rivaling advanced jets...but here he was. Bored.

He tapped his feet, trying to look for shapes in the clouds or enjoy the feeling of the wind on his face, anything to avoid checking how long they’d been up in the air….

Too late.

The hero sighed loudly upon discovering that it had only been ten minutes since takeoff. How could something that was usually so cool be so...just...not?

Sonic quickly decided that he had to call up Angel Island right now so that he could find somebody to talk to. As the earpiece patched through to the other end, he heard a sudden “Ngh-” followed by a loud sigh.

“Hey, everything okay there?” he asked, resulting in a startlingly high shriek from the other end.

“Sonic! Don’t do that!” Shadow hissed at him. “Give me a little warning next time!”

“There’s, like, actually no way for me to do that without talking.” Sonic shot back cheerfully, feeling more upbeat already.

“Ugh.” the hybrid groaned, before some sort of thud came through the mike.

“Seriously, though, you okay?”

Shadow sighed. “I’ve spent the past four minutes walking through a tangled, vine-filled forest in any direction that is away from the altar. It could be worse, but it could be better too.”

Sonic frowned, worried. “And why were you walking away from the altar? Are Rouge and Knuckles with you?”

“No.” the hybrid muttered. “They’re kind of busy making out. At the altar. Which is why I’m not there, obviously.”

“Aw, man...they probably just missed each other a lot.”

Shadow sighed. “I know they did, and I’m not judging them. But they deserve some privacy, and I really deserve to not have to watch that.”

Sonic grinned. “Hah! That’s fair. So whatcha doing now?”

“Lying on the ground next to a lake and watching some Flickies on a tree. You?”

“Sitting on the plane. And bored. Or, at least I was. Bored, I mean.” Sonic amended quickly.

The hybrid snickered. “I’d hope you’re still sitting on the plane.”

His smile only grew. Talking with Shadow was always fun- he didn’t know why he hadn’t called sooner!

“Soooo...you feelin’ any better after those power naps of yours?” he asked curiously.

“Actually, yes. Mostly it helps to not be looking over my shoulder all the time.” Shadow sighed again. “It’s…” he trailed off, clearly embarrassed.

“Hey, you can tell me!” Sonic said encouragingly.

“It's difficult to adjust. I...still catch myself looking over my shoulder only to see it’s a fly buzzing, not a plane, or something like that. I shouldn’t be, but I am.”

Sonic wished he was back at the island already so that he could give Shadow all the comfort he deserved. “There won’t be any planes there, Shadow. I mean it. And none of that ‘shouldn’t’ talk, either, ‘kay? It’s alright to be a little stressed, just remember everything’s gonna turn out fine.”

“That means a lot...thank you. Again.”

Sonic could feel a grin spreading across his whole face. “No problem! Now, what I really need to tell ya about is……”

He spent the rest of the flight chatting with the hybrid, catching him up on all the jokes, memes and random news he’d missed over the past couple of weeks. Shadow was eager to listen, and Sonic was so glad to finally be able to tell him everything that he swore he’d never take his friend’s presence for granted again.

Eventually, though, he was pulled back to reality in the middle of a particularly passionate explanation of why exactly it was so cool that the Tomatopotamus 2 movie’s release date was finally out when Tails tapped on his shoulder. “Uh, Sonic? We’re here now.”

“What?” The hero glanced down, only to discover that yes, Central City was in fact right beneath them. “No way, that was like twenty minutes!”

Omega shook his head. “Correction: it has been an hour and twenty minutes.” He sounded smug for some reason, and Sonic glowered at the robot irritably.

“I guess I gotta go for now, sorry.” he sighed into the earpiece.

“Good luck to all three of you.” Shadow said. “I’ll be listening in, and I’ll go break up Knuckles and Rouge now.”

“Good luck to you.” Sonic snickered. He could practically hear Shadow roll his eyes at that one.

They coasted to a stop on the back lawn of the president’s home, the hedgehog pointedly ignoring Tails and Omega’s conversation about the theory of relativity, or something along those lines. Even though he didn’t know what exactly they were talking about, he could guess, and he didn’t approve. At all.

Sonic hopped off the wing of the plane before it had even finished landing the moment he spotted someone on the grass, waving hello as the president herself walked over to greet them. He rushed over to her, taking her hand and shaking it happily.

He and the president had spoken a few times before- being a hero meant he ended up talking with quite a few famous people, but she was one of his favorites. She was relatively young compared to most of the others who had held that title, but she handled herself with the confidence and strength she deserved (and needed) for this station.

“Hey there! How’s the job?” he asked with an understanding grin, knowing all too well how it felt to be responsible for large groups of people at a time.

She dropped his hand (and the remaining air of formality) in favor of running copper fingers tiredly through her hair, letting out a long sigh. “These last few days have been tough, but I know it’s probably not as much stress as you guys have been dealing with. Still sorry about that, by the way.”

Sonic looked up at her, still sympathetic. “It’s not your fault. I bet you’ve probably got a lot on your plate too- dealing with this fallout ain’t gonna be easy.”

“I know, but it’s what I have to do. For your friends, and for everyone.” she said, squaring her shoulders determinedly.

Tails rushed over not long after, having parked and shut down the plane by now. “Hi, Ms. President! How are you?”

“Hello, Tails,” she said. Impressively, she was one of the few adults who refused to talk down to the young fox, instead treating him like the mature person he was. (This definitely earned her a few extra points in Sonic’s book.) “I’m perfectly alright...I hope you all aren’t doing too badly.”

The president had the thoughtfulness to at least look a little awkward at that, clearly embarrassed by the fact that some of the United Federation’s most famed heroes were now essentially unable to live in the country without being in serious danger.

Omega greeted her as well as he made his way over, clearly alright with being at least somewhat decent to the woman who had helped shut down G.U.N.

“Would you like to come inside?” she asked politely. “I promise, there’s nothing inside but some Secret Service...and hopefully cake, if I requested it early enough.” she added with a warmer smile.

“What are we here for?” the robot asked bluntly, unprepared to trust as easily as the two Mobians were.

“Right!” she said, taking his question in stride. “I’m working on a new set of rules with the congressional branch that deal with some of the problems within G.U.N. so that they don’t crop up in the future, as well as trying to figure out what to do with them in general- so I wanted your opinion on both of those subjects! As long as that’s alright with you?”

Shadow spoke up in Sonic’s ear. “Rouge is interested and so am I.”

“Totally!” Sonic chirped, following her inside. Omega agreed with Rouge and Shadow (somewhat reluctantly), having tapped into the hero’s communications as they were landing.

Halfway up the stairs to the president’s office, the first lady came rushing in the opposite direction, apologizing all the while for getting in their way. “Hi, Sonic! Hi Tails! Hello, Omega! So nice to see you! Sorry, the cat’s gotten loose again…” she sighed, sagging against the railing briefly.

“We really need to get him a tracking collar, don’t we?” The president shook her head, her soft Afro bouncing as she pinched the bridge of her nose briefly. “Good luck finding him, anyway.”

“Have fun in your meeting!” the first lady chirped, winking overdramatically at her wife for emphasis before rushing off in search of their cat.

Tails grinned up at the president. “I know how you feel...sometimes I want to get a tracker chip for Sonic when he stays out too long on a run.”

“Hey!” the hero protested, but nobody seemed to be terribly worried about his pride. He could hear Knuckles, Shadow and Rouge laughing in his ear, too, and he pouted, wishing more than anything that he could offer a snappy comeback- but he couldn’t give away the fact that he had an earpiece in.

The president invited them into her office and began to lay out her plans for how to improve the country. The legislative body was working with her on some sort of complete shutdown and restructuring of G.U.N.- it seemed like there were going to be new leaders, new hiring processes, review systems, a different set of priorities…and that was just the start.

It was a lot, but Sonic was glad that she’d at least given them the opportunity to hear about these plans. Shadow and Rouge got to provide their input as well, which was great, but only through Omega, not Sonic. They would’ve trusted the president with that information, for sure, but the two members of the Secret Service behind her desk?

No way.

Especially not when Rouge recognized one of them from G.U.N.’s special training programs. They might not be close enough with the organization for it to really mean anything, but the group definitely didn’t want to take chances.

Partway through the meeting (not long after the cake arrived), the main phone on the president’s desk rang, startling everyone out of their conversation. She picked it up with a calm “Hello?”, but her eyes quickly widened as the person on the other end began to speak.

“Thank you.” she said quickly, before putting the phone down. Her eyes met Sonic’s, and he felt his stomach drop. The hero suddenly wished he hadn’t eaten just yet…

“Three representatives of G.U.N. are at the front gate.” the president said quietly.

The hero heard a gasp in his ear. He wasn’t sure who had done so, but the sound made his surprise morph quickly into defensiveness. “Omega. Tails. Do you guys want to meet with them?” he asked coolly, his face losing most of its expression.

“I would...like to do so.” the robot said.

Tails met Sonic’s gaze. “Yeah, same here.”

They moved to the main conference room, and the three heroes stood at one end of a long table, waiting for the members of G.U.N. to appear. It didn’t take long before they were buzzed in, and Sonic could feel himself shifting into a more confrontational stance, prepared to fight if necessary.

The commander was the first one to enter the room. His presence immediately raised everyone’s tension levels- at the very least, he seemed to be aware of it. He almost looked...a little embarrassed?

The silence on the other end of the communicator was near-deafening.

He was followed almost immediately by an agent that Sonic didn’t recognize, a wolf who seemed more than a little bit awkward and apologetic. She sat down to his left, sneaking glances at each of the three heroes in the room.

After that, a skinny, pale sort of guy entered the room, looking incredibly full of himself. Sonic wasn’t usually one to get bad first impressions of people, but this person irritated him almost immediately. Omega obviously recognized him- and not in a good way- as he began to make several loud clicking noises not unlike those of guns loading. On purpose, of course.

The commander sat down last (still seeming less than comfortable), cleared his throat, and looked up at the other three. “Before I speak, is there anything you would like to say?”

Sonic, Tails and Omega regarded him in stony silence.

He shuffled some of the papers in front of him and sighed quietly. “I would like to begin by apologizing for the distress I and the organization I serve have caused to you and your friends. All of you. I wish...no, I should have handled this in a different manner- requested a meeting, spoken with you first, done something to ensure that my intentions did not appear malicious. But instead…

“...instead I have distanced myself from three of the most skilled people ever to serve under my command, as well as further tarnished G.U.N.’s already ruined reputation. I…” The commander sighed here. This speech was already taking a lot out of him, Sonic could tell.

“I fear that my father’s views have heavily influenced my own, to say the absolute least, especially regarding my job and what needed to be done to serve this organization. ‘Shoot first and ask questions later’ was a favorite motto of his, and one that I accepted for a long, long time...my family has discussed with me lately (and quite gently, perhaps more so than I deserve) about how that ideology is problematic, to say the least.

“I liked to think I was not a bad person. That I was being more open-minded. But now I see that I was foolish to believe as much. I chose to try and salvage G.U.N., to cover up the mistakes as others have done before me because it was ‘for the good of the country’, because ‘other people wouldn’t understand what needs to be done’, and more. My guilty conscience wishes I would blame my father for my mistakes, but at some point, one must take responsibility for one’s own failures.

“Particularly…” and here he looked directly at the three of them, though he almost seemed to be searching for someone else instead, “...having alienated the last person on this planet who truly can comprehend the life I have led.”

Sonic realized with a start that he was talking about Shadow.

“All I can say now is that as of tomorrow, I am resigning as commander of G.U.N. I clearly have not succeeded in improving this organization at all, so I believe a new, younger face...someone without prior biases or contacts...would be better for us now.”

The hero heard gasps in both his ears- one from Rouge and Shadow, the other from the wiry man in front of him. Said human immediately started stammering at the commander, asking him why in the world he thought this was a good idea. The older man in turn merely waved him off with a stern word or two, forcing the other human to sink back into his seat with an obviously displeased expression.

The lavender wolf, the president, Omega, and Tails, on the other hand, all seemed to approve of the commander’s decision, as did Sonic. The hero felt nothing but relief now, hoping that finally, the big things could start to change for the better.

They spoke a little longer, the tensions mostly eased now (with the exception of the skinny guy, of course, who Rouge irritably identified as the less-than-respectful PR officer that the team had spoken to way back in the beginning). The conversation wasn’t very important, just polite nonsense about how change should be made soon and all that.

Things weren’t comfortable by any means, and they shouldn’t have been, but...Sonic felt a little lighter at the thought that someone important in G.U.N. at least accepted what was going on.

As the three heroes left, the commander asked them for one favor. “Could you please tell Shadow and Rouge that I apologize for the way G.U.N. has behaved? The way in which I have commanded this organization is wrong...I can see that now.”

Sonic offered him a quick flash of a grin, realizing that the commander truly didn’t know about his earpiece, nor Omega’s connection. “Hey, being able to apologize says a lot, too. I’ll be sure to let them know, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, and safe travels.”

“You too, alright?” he replied politely, before hopping onto the Tornado with a wave.

The flight back seemed to take forever (really, this time), partly because Sonic was dying to get back and partly because his friends seemed too busy talking seriously to chat. He tried his best to bask in the feeling of hope, but it was difficult to focus when his excitement was rising with each passing second.

As soon as they landed, he jumped off and ran over to his friends. “It’s gonna be alright now, guys!” he said, grinning at them. “You’re gonna go home soon!”

Rouge gave him a big smile back, before rushing over to Omega to celebrate. “Did you hear that, Omega? We’ll be home in a couple of weeks, max! Shadow-”

She trailed off, watching him carefully. The hybrid was staring down at the ground, his hands trembling slightly. “It’s...done? Then what now? What should we do?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and failing miserably. Sonic’s ears drooped a little as he heard the shake in his friend’s voice.

“Now you get to rest. You’ve earned it, you know that? I know it’s tough to just...go back and chill after everything, but you gotta know when to let other people carry on the work ya started, alright?” Sonic said carefully, stepping closer and closer to Shadow. His hands hovered slightly over his friend’s arms, unwilling to touch the hybrid unless he was alright with it first.

Suddenly, Shadow leaned into Sonic’s chest, his eyes shut tightly, clearly fighting back some sort of emotion. The hero held his friend tightly, sinking to his knees in an attempt to comfort Shadow better. Rouge and Omega rushed over, holding him tight as well. “Hey…” the bat said gently, “Shadow, we’re all going to be okay, I promise. We can stop now.”

“How do we know? What if something happens and it all goes wrong-”

Sonic stopped him right there. “We can set up whatever you need to feel comfortable, but trust me, we’ll all make sure nothing goes wrong. I’ll hold the president to her word, and so will everyone else here.”

“But...nobody’s ever really been able to stop G.U.N. before...not even me.” Shadow said quietly.

“There are more people on your side now, Shadow.” Omega replied, looking down at him. “You are not alone in this fight- so many others want this too.”

“I’ll have to wait and see before I can believe that.” he muttered, sighing.

Tails and Knuckles walked over too, the former offering him a hopeful smile and the latter clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You guys can stay here a while longer, I guess, until everything’s sorted out.” the echidna said, trying his best to help.

“Yeah!” Sonic cheered. “We’ll make sure this all gets fixed up properly, alright?”

Shadow smiled faintly at him. “I’ll hold you to that, Sonic.”

The hero couldn’t help but grin back, all his hope for his friend bursting through. And when Shadow’s smile grew just that little bit more real, he was determined to do absolutely whatever it took to make the hybrid smile properly again and again, without any fear holding him back.

He knew, without a doubt, that Shadow was more than deserving of all the happiness in the world.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #whoa that's a lot of people #scars you can't see #sycs #sol's fanfiction #i almost thought i wouldn't be able to get this out in time...#life has decided to throw lots of work at me so the last chapter might be a couple of days late #we'll see #also a few clarifications:#the commander is beginning to realize that his father taught him about the world in a very very biased way #and feels pretty bad about it #i didn't know how to end this since it was the chapter with the least planning behind it #so hopefully it turned out alright #and finally #i tried to make it clear that the president is Black but in a respectful way #if i failed to do that then please please please let me know and i will change it #also hopefully shadow wasn't too ooc at the end there #:S #hope you enjoyed the update and have a wonderful day!

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enviedear · 4 years

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the last great american dynasty → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which y/n l/n buys an old home and quickly becomes the talk of the town

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.7k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

pls enjoy this fic as i write my other four... its proving most difficult to keep up with all of them but i’m trying. and of course this is based off the song the last great american dynasty by taylor :)))

also here is the house i’m going to be referencing :)

when you moved to england your first task was to do as your parents suggested, stay with your distant relative, aurora sinistra.

and you followed their advice. you tracked down her home. she just happened to be away. she had left a note saying something about how she couldn’t miss some sort of planetary alignment and would be in germany for the next week.

you had decided to explore the new territory and after an hour of walking around the town you met your soulmate, a home. and not just any home, a beautiful large piece of art made of stone.

the huge house enticed you to climb up the large hill it was sat on.

up closer you saw the vines and wisteria climbing up the exterior. then more details like the broad windows in need of cleaning, an old oak door, and doric columns that made you feel like you stumbled into a princess story.

you forgot your normal manners and had entered the home without a knock, pacing slowly through the entryway, studying the decor.

“excuse me?” a voiced called.

you had turned to find a tall brunette woman holding a toddler.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to just walk up into your home. its just, very beautiful, and i saw a for sale sign by the mailbox.” you had sputtered out.

the woman seemed even more surprised after you had spoken, “are you american?”

“yes?” you had replied, confused.

“it’s just, no one comes here and now i know why you did,” she laughs a little and adjusts the little boy on her hip. “this is a family home of a dark wizard, not many people want to visit a house that has such negative connotations. but i’d love to give you tour if you’re still interested in it?” she asks.

you smile, “i’d love to. i’m y/n by the way.”

andromeda tonks had quickly taken a liking to you and offered you the home. she explained that absolutely no one else would buy it given the fact it used to belong to her sister, who had fought alongside voldemort.

you didn’t mind the weird history that came along with the home, it was too beautiful to pass up. plus, it wasn’t unlike to you to cause a stir. you took pride in doing things out of the ordinary.

that’s how you came into the possession of the lestrange family home, or as you call it, wisteria house, after the flowers that inhabited the residence.

now, almost a year later, you’re the talk of the town. most of your pureblood neighbors found you too new. you were new money, you were apart of an american half-blood family, and you hosted parties they deemed too loud. however you knew they were tasteful.

you couldn’t care any less about what they thought of you. your home was your everything and you wouldn’t change yourself for some stuck up old families. you found it marvelous ruining everything they deemed sacred.

one of your neighbors in particular, a man named lucius malfoy, had annoyed you to no end. he hated everything about you. andromeda told you several times by now that he proclaimed you a mad woman to anyone who brought you or wisteria house up.

so today, on the fifth of june two thousand and three, you were determined to win this feud.

lucius’ home, malfoy manor was hosting a party tonight, and you were set on ruining everything.

as you entered the mansion, you absentmindedly smoothed out your tight fit gown. it hung off your shoulders and had a tasteful slit on the left side, exposing your leg.

“y/n, come sit with teddy and i!” andromeda calls from a nearby table.

you smile at the woman and take your seat beside her, giving teddy a kiss on the forehead. he in return, makes his hair your favorite color and smiles up at you.

“i didn’t think you’d actually come dear. i know how rude lucius has been to you, but i’m glad you’re being pleasant and showing off your best face.” andromeda says sarcastically, bringing her wine glass to her pointed lips.

you smirk, “lucius deserves to experience my full presence.”

the party kicks off and andromeda introduces you to many people, like harry potter, who you feel very awkward around. you can’t help it, you don’t know how to talk to someone who saved the world.

she also introduces you to lucius, who is carrying around a small poodle like it’s a handbag. he doesn’t say much to you and you don’t mind, his voice annoys you.

you decide to sneak away from andromeda’s conversation with lucius and make your way to a balcony. to the right, you spot your home. you smile to yourself and begin studying the malfoy garden.

after a little time passes you decide it best to find andromeda again, but before you can take a step lucius’ dog is licking your exposed leg.

“well how did you get here?” you jokingly ask the animal, crouching down to pet it.

the dog leans into your touch and that’s when you have an idea.

when you attended ilvermorny you learned a spell for dyeing flags so that the opposing houses couldn’t change it. it proved a big hit given the thunderbird house liked to turn flags into theirs as a joke during quadpot games.

you could dye the dogs fur so that lucius would have a conniption. the dye was completely safe as well, and you were sure the party guests would love to see lucius attempt to change to dogs fur back.

so you dyed the dog a key-lime green, and let it run back off to its owner.

“i suppose my father was right, you are mad.” a voice says from the hall.

you furrow your brows and step further into the hallway so you can get a look at who’s speaking.

leaning against the wall is a tall, pale, blonde boy. draco. andromeda told you about him. apparently he doesn’t like his father much and to spite him, takes teddy on walks in his garden every saturday and thursday morning.

“you know, people have been saying that my home is cursed to make any woman who lives in it insane. and i must admit after finding your aunt bellatrix’s journal i might have to believe them. her sanity did begin slipping after moving into that home.” you say, raising your eyebrows.

“bella was always mad. but if you keep tormenting my father i think it’ll be him to go insane. not that i don’t enjoy your little pranks on him.” he gushes, letting a small smile creep onto his face.

“i can’t just end your dad an i’s little feud here, draco. it would make me look cowardly,” you tease, biting your lip. “i really don’t even know why he invited me to this party. come to think of it, i don’t even know what we’re celebrating.”

“i invited you. it’s my birthday party.” he replies.

“why thank you for your invitation. may i ask how old you are?” you ask.

“twenty-three at 11:37,” he looks at his pocket watch, “ten more minutes.”

you study him before saying, “you know there’s a wall at my house that shows you the way the stars look. would you like to see how the universe aligns the stars for your birthday?”

draco runs a hand through his hair, “i’d love to. and i’ve been meaning to see what you’ve done with bella’s old house.”

the two of you quietly sneak out of malfoy manor and into wisteria house. you lead him upstairs and into the sky room. the room had an enormously tall glass ceiling, and was decorated with things aurora had given you.

on the wall furtherest from the door was a live depiction of the stars above. tonight the wall showed a vibrant blue galaxy spotted with deep orange and bright white stars.

“you’re lucky, this is one of the best ones i’ve seen this whole year. the stars must like you.” you sigh, happily.

draco laughs a bit and looks at you, “despite being the town nuisance, i find you rather enjoyable.”

“despite that compliment being backhanded, i find you rather enjoyable as well.” you tease.

draco laughs, “did you know that the sacred twenty eight pureblood families have a nickname for you?”

you shake your head asking him to explain.

“they call you the last great american dynasty because you bought this big house and have money they can’t trace.” he says.

“i cant deny, i kind of like it.” you giggle.

draco looks down to his watch, “one minute and then i’m officially twenty three,” he pauses to smirk a little, “you know this is the age my parents got married, and i suppose my mother will expect the same of me now.”

“i’ve always said the best age to get hitched is twenty three. the brain isn’t fully developed so you can still love like a teenager but have the responsibilities of an adult. i suppose by that logic, i too should be getting married this year.” you joke.

draco smiles before looking at you quizzically.

you furrow your eyebrows, “what is it?”

“i think i have the perfect way to win your little feud with my father.”

“and what is that?” you ask.

“let’s get engaged.” he says simply.

“draco, i’m honored but,” you pause, thinking.

what would be the harm in accepting. you could spend however long you wanted mulling over the actual wedding. lucius would have to respect you a little more. and draco seemed to be a nice person.

“you know what, this mad woman wouldn’t mind being engaged to you. so long as you don’t rush me to marry you, and we stay here, at wisteria.” you bargain.

“you’re sure? you haven’t been drinking have you? i’d hate to propose to a woman who won’t remember this in the morning.” he jokes.

“i haven’t had anything other than pumpkin juice tonight. although i can say this is extremely impulsive, i am almost certain i’d like to marry you. i mean i just saw the ways the stars looked on your birthday. that’s the most intimate thing i’ve ever done with someone.” you smile.

“that’s the most intimate-” you cut the boy off with a simple, “of course not, silly.”

the two of you talk through the rest of the night and into the early morning before draco escorts himself home.

the following months were bliss, aside from lucius’ annoyance about you and his sons engagement. draco took you all over britian. you bought some of the best ice cream you’ve ever had from a shop in diagon alley, you visited aurora at hogwarts and met the lovely headmistress named minerva who gleamed at draco every time he spoke, you took draco to meet your parents in november to celebrate thanksgiving, and the two of you did a lot of landscaping for wisteria house.

“guess what tomorrow is.” you instruct your fiancee who is tending to the small wiggentree.

draco wipes the dirt from his forehead and purses his lips in thought, “ah, it’s our engagement party.”

you wink at him and wrap your cloak around yourself more trying to get warm, “precisely. i was thinking we announce the wedding day.”

he chuckles, “why y/n, we won’t be getting married for a while. plus i’d hate to toy with mother by giving her a date she’ll have to wait anxiously for. you know that woman is practically dying to have a wedding. though, i would have thought potters’ would have quenched her thirst.”

you roll your eyes, “we’re announcing the day. march the fourth two thousand and five.”

draco’s eyes widen, “and you’re sure?”

you nod and draco barrels toward you with a hug. it knocks you back a bit but you smile and hold the boy tight against you.

it didn’t take you long to become enraptured in everything that was draco malfoy. he loved you with a firey passion you longed to never go out.

the wedding day came quickly, but not quick enough for you and your fiancee.

“you know, i must say, this crowd has to be bigger than harry’s on his wedding day.” you say to andromeda, narcissa, and your mom.

“it’s because half of these people are a little too invested in your life. i love you but having your wedding at a former deatheater’s home isn’t exactly normal. i mean i know it’s not bella’s house anymore but the history remains. i can’t say anyone likes a home of a deatheater. no offense sissy.” andromeda says, looking out the window at the large crowd in the garden.

narcissa rolls her eyes and continues weaving the wisteria into your h/c hair.

“i wish i was better at braiding honey, but narcissa is doing better than i ever could. you were right to have me just doing your makeup.” your mom says, eyeing your mother-in-laws’ handiwork.

“i just can’t believe the day is finally here. my little boy is getting married. i always knew he’d marry a woman who could keep up with him.” narcissa smiles.

after you and your bridesmaids (who consisted of your best friend, andromeda, and your cousin aurora) were ready, narcissa and your mother escort you all down to the venue.

the two mothers smile at you before taking their seats.

“next time we talk you’ll be a married woman.” your best friend says, nudging your shoulder.

“isn’t it crazy?” you laugh, clutching your flowers.

she gives you a confident look before walking onto the aisle.

soon enough its your turn to walk. the long train of your white dress trails gracefully behind you and your off the shoulder long sleeves keep your arms warm.

the grey eyes at the end of the aisle look at you with such adoration you can’t help but to let out a stray tear.

draco looks regal in his light grey tux. his blonde hair is styled just like it was in a picture you found of him from his sixth year at hogwarts, and his rosy cheeks allude to his nerves.

when you reach him he holds a hand out for you and wipes the tears from your eyes.

your father is officiating the wedding and gives you a smile that only a father can give before starting his speech.

soon enough it’s time for draco to say his vows.

your lover sniffles a bit before speaking, “y/n l/n, for years this house has sat quietly on this hill, free of women with madness and bad habits until two years ago when it was bought by you. y/n, the most brilliant woman i’ve ever met. you ruined all the negativities that came with this home. your nature is unlike anyone else. you always see the best in people and things. you make a friendly competition out of anything and it never fails to amaze me at the way you push yourself. before we met i was out walking with a few old friends from school and you were outside wisteria planting lilac. i remember one of my friends referred to you as loudest woman this town has ever seen. i have to agree, your aura is impossible to escape. but i would never want to escape your madness. everything you do fills me with light. who knows if you never showed up what could have been. i’ve had a marvelous time ruining everything this home used to stand for with you, and i’d be honored to continue doing just that for the rest of my life. i adore you, y/n.”

your heart begged to reach out and hug him.

“i love you draco malfoy.” you profess.

“i know pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.” your father beams.

draco leans into you and gives you a kiss full of love. all the best things in the universe couldn’t compare to this moment right now. in the end you had two soulmates, one, a home that you poured all your work into and two, a man who you poured your whole being into.

when the two of you break away you smile at your husband, knowing that this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

and the town whispered the same thing years into your marriage, “there goes the last great american dynasty.”

#—myfics !#draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x reader #draco x female reader #draco x american! reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy fluff #the last great american dynasty #taylor swift #cottagecore #harry potter fanfiction

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tobesobri · 4 years

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𝒯hank you for all the love on the first chapter, that was honestly the last thing I expected, and it really does mean the world to me that you guys like this story. I’m going to include the taglist at the end, but if you’d like to be added for future updates, go here and put in your tumblr URL. Okay, anyways, this chapter is very like,,, rocky and emotional so! Have fun reading :)

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

Chapter Two: Do It One More Time (3.8k)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

Sneaking Harry out had been the least of her worries. Him being on her mind constantly was a much bigger cause for concern. She had trouble sleeping at night, tossing and turning and even having to wash her entire bedspread to get rid of his scent. It had been no use, however. It was like her body got a taste of something very potent and wanted it now more than ever before.

And it didn’t take long for her to get back into her routine. To soil the pillowcases in her tears because the emptiness inside her chest had only grown tenfold after what had happened with Harry. Her muscles literally ached and her sobs almost sent her to the bathroom to hurl up an empty stomach full of knots.

Her brain had finally gotten a reprieve from its loneliness. She finally felt what it was like to have someone, even if it wasn’t real. Even if it was a mistake and even if it was fleeting. Harry had filled whatever missing parts were within her and it hurt like hell to go back to normal again.

But she wasn’t the only one. He couldn’t sleep anymore either. His house felt massive and the silence between all the walls seemed to ring just a little bit louder. He found himself buying an unnecessary amount of pillows and setting them all up on his bed just to surround himself with something. He’d been here before though. After a breakup, his least favorite part was going back to sleeping alone. He hated not having someone to hold onto. It took him weeks to get used to it last time, and to get used to the cold spots on the other side of the bed. It only took four and a half hours with Y/N to fuck him all up again.

And he really shouldn’t be doing this, but he was desperate.

“Hello?” Even her voice was a breath of fresh air for him.

“Hey, it’s uh… Harry.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you had my number.”

“Will gave it to me a while ago… for emergencies.”

Y/N took a long pause, unsure why Harry was calling her on a Thursday afternoon, completely at random. It had been almost an entire week since their… incident. Why was he calling her right now?

“So… is this an emergency?”

“Um… well, no. It isn’t.”

“So why are you calling then?”

“I was wondering um… you can say no but um… I was wondering if you wanted to… sleep with me again.” He cringed at his last few words and the way they felt like knives cutting his throat to get out. He had no better way to phrase what he wanted other than being blunt about it and admitting he wanted her up against him. He wanted more than just lifeless pillows to cuddle up to at night.

And something about Y/N had him losing his fucking mind the past week so asking her to sleep with him seemed low on his list of crazy.

“Sorry?”

“I mean… like we did last week. I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight, just to sleep?”

“Why?” She asked, unsure why Harry fucking Styles was asking her that. Sure, they were somewhat friendly and she had thoughts about asking him the same exact thing, but it was an odd request coming from him. She was sure if he needed a cuddle buddy that he could easily find anyone else.

But even the thought of him being like that with someone else gave her a horribly sick feeling in her stomach that she recognized immediately but could not for the life of her explain. She didn’t get jealous, ever.

He cleared his throat, “Um well… I have had a pretty hard time sleeping and then last Friday it was like… like the best sleep of my life. And this past week has been awful again. So I was just… we don’t have to if you don’t want to though. It’s fine. I probably shouldn’t have even called…”

“No.” She cut his spiraling off abruptly. “I mean… yes. I… can do that.”

He immediately let out a huge breath of air in relief but also couldn’t believe she had, yet again, agreed to another one of his stupid ideas. “I just want to let you know I’m not trying to like… get in your pants or anything. I genuinely just…” He stopped then, knowing a more believable story would be him wanting to get into her pants than what was actually going on with him.

“Just what?”

“I just need someone.” He admitted with his eyes closed tight as he laid back onto his couch. “And it’s not very easy asking people to just sleep with you.”

She let another moment of silence go by that just about tore him up. And right when he was about to ask if she was still there, he heard her voice again, as softly as ever.

“What time should I come over then?”

Harry’s house wasn’t easy to access. First, there was the entrance gate to just get into the neighborhood, which had an intimidatingly large security guard posted out front like an oversized bridge troll. Then she had to hand over her driver’s license and try to convince him she was there to see Harry, and that her name was supposed to be on his list of accepted guests. The whole thing wouldn’t seem so unbelievable to her if she wasn’t already trapped in a pit of nerves from being there in the first place.

By some miracle, however, the guard returned her ID along with a visitor’s pass and opened the gates for her.

Then, of course, there was finding his house, which turned out to be a whole other task and a half on its own. Every house was so far from the main road due to oversized front lawns that she couldn’t read anyone’s house number unless she practically trespassed. He’d given her very vague instructions so she mostly had to rely on Google Maps. Which somehow got her to the house at the end of Spruce Street with the enormous pine tall trees and rose bushes surrounding it just like Harry had described.

She pulled into the short gap of driveway just before the tall, wooden privacy gates that hid most of his house from view. After rolling down her driver’s side window, she inputted the four-digit code he’d given her onto the pinpad. Within a few seconds the gates opened, and after a moment to ogle at his insanely beautiful house, she swallowed the pit in her throat and carefully drove onto his property as if it was made out of glass. She really did not belong there, not in her beat up 2005 Toyota, and she couldn’t afford to break anything.

The moon was already prominent in the middle of the sky by the time she got to his front door and rang the bell. His house wasn’t at all what she expected. It was old-looking. Almost cottage-like with stone bricks and vines trickling down the architecture. She expected the most modern amenities known to man from him, but it turned out to be the polar opposite.

She stopped staring at his garden fortress of a house, with her jaw hung wide, when his door swung open. Because finally he was there, right in front of her, giving her proof that she didn’t accidentally show up at the wrong address, even though the code had worked and the house was as he described. Her anxiety was just a little extra prominent than normal.

“This is where you live?” She asked, before he even got the chance to invite her in.

He laughed, holding the door in one hand and gripping the frame with the other to keep his balance as he stood in the middle.

“Um,” he sighed, glancing up at the house, “yeah, but I’m trying to sell it soon. I bought it when I was young and impulsive.”

“Oh.” Was all she said, and he worried for a moment that he had completely lost her. That she was going to go back to never speaking a single word to him ever again. That he wasn’t anything like what she expected and it was a little too much for her to take in.

Just like most of his previous attempts at friendships, once they got even the tiniest glimpse into his life, they either bolted or stuck around long enough to get what they wanted from him.

Instead, she met his eyes again and smiled, “Can I come in or what?”

The inside of his house, however, had been recently modernized and she wondered if Harry had made all the design decisions himself. Like if he picked out the big geometric crystal chandelier in the foyer or the white marble countertops in the kitchen. She liked it, though, it was open with tall ceilings and unlike any home she’d ever stepped foot in. Even though it reminded her what vastly different worlds she and Harry came from, she knew his personality didn’t match up to his big fancy house.

When they settled into the kitchen, and when Harry began pouring two glasses of water for them, she set her things down on his island counter to give her shoulders a break from her heavy backpack. She knew she’d packed too much stuff, but if she was spending the night at Harry’s place, she needed her own familiar things to keep her company.

“I was thinking…” she started, watching as he kicked the refrigerator door shut once he’d put the filtered water pitcher back on the top shelf and handed her one of the glasses. “That maybe it’s a good idea to not tell Will… or... anyone about this.”

He thought it over for a moment and then nodded in agreement, “Yeah, okay.” Averting his eyes, his mind thought of a million different things at once while he sipped on his own glass of water until another tangible question popped into his head. “So if we’re not telling them, then where do they think you are right now?”

“At a coworker’s place.”

He nodded again and for the first time around Harry, she felt so incredibly nervous. He’d made her nervous before but not like this. She’d always just avoided him and it worked her anxieties out, but there was absolutely no chance of avoiding him now. Maybe she should have just said no, but that also seemed like an implausible choice.

“Is it alright if I like… get ready for bed? I just got off work.”

He let out a small giggle around the brim of his glass and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll show you my room.”

And his bedroom did not, by any means, disappoint. Just the square footage of it was impressive, but her eyes were particularly drawn to his bed, and not for any other reason than the way it faced massive ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked, as it seemed, the entirety of Hollywood; and she fell in love instantly. It was mesmerizing, and she could not fathom why on earth he planned on selling. Hell if he didn’t want the house anymore, she’d take it.

“Bathroom’s over there. Make yourself at home. I’m gonna set the alarm and turn off the lights. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Nodding, she waited for him to leave before she fully lost her mind about everything. Not only was she in the nicest house she’d ever laid foot in, but she was also about to crawl back into bed with him. His king sized, fluffy-looking bed she could imagine herself getting lost in.

She knew what they were doing was slightly out of the norm for people their own age. Most people didn’t sleep in the same bed as their friends unless they were doing something friends probably shouldn’t be doing. But the benefits of their budding friendship were a little more innocent than that to the point where even the thought of Will finding out where she was right now, while she slipped into her strawberry patterned pajama pants in Harry’s ensuite, made her lightheaded. She’d almost feel better if Will found out they were actually hooking up instead, because at least that wasn’t so… weird.

With the amount of time she spent getting herself ready, most of it being wasted on psyching herself up enough to go through with all of this, she’d become very familiar with his bathroom. He had two sinks along one wall, and massive mirrors that all faced a shower that could fit an entire army inside. The tiles were either black or white except for the blue pops of color here and there. The best part of it was the massive soaker tub in the back underneath a window that overlooked his garden. It was like he plucked a bathroom straight out of Good Housekeeping.

And of course she couldn’t let his things go unnoticed. She’d make herself a space at the empty sink nearest the door, the one that didn’t have his stuff neatly stacked around it. She eyed his small selection of colognes on a tray between the sinks while she washed her face, and couldn’t help her curiosity from checking out what brand of toothpaste he used when she started brushing her own teeth.

Other than the little touches of Harry scattered sparingly about, however, it was almost as if no one lived there at all. And she became very familiar with how cold it all was.

It wasn’t until she turned the sink off after splashing her face, again, with ice cold water, that she heard the soft hum of a guitar from just outside the bathroom door. She wasn’t sure if he was playing, or if he had turned music on. She wasn’t even sure if Harry Styles knew how to play the guitar. She couldn’t ever remember him playing any instruments whenever he came over to work with Will, but maybe she was just tragically unobservant.

And that seemed to be the case once she finished up and went back out to find him perched on what appeared to be his side of the bed with his guitar on his lap and a leather bound notebook open in front of him.

Though before she could make out a single melody, he immediately stopped playing the second she re-entered the room.

“Sorry, you can keep… doing what you’re doing.”

He let out an exasperated laugh while she crept towards the bed on the opposite side and made note of the way he quickly hid his journal from her and stashed it into a drawer at his bedside table. Maybe she was overanalyzing things, but it seemed like whatever he was writing down was for his eyes only, and she respected that.

“I was trying to write a song… hasn’t really been working out for me recently.” He leaned away from her to put his guitar down on the floor, setting it upright against the table, and she hated the way her eyes went straight to the small sliver of skin under his shirt that was exposed when he did so.

“Writer’s block?” She asked, slowly making her way up under the covers next to him, still feeling like she didn’t belong even though this had all been Harry’s idea to begin with. He needed someone and so did she, even if he didn’t fully know to what extent. But it felt like somehow she had tricked him into thinking the someone he needed was her.

“Sucks,” he mumbled to himself mostly, still very obviously in his own little work bubble.

“I usually just try to stop doing whatever I’m struggling with, and do something else, something I wouldn’t normally do.”

“You mean with your art stuff?” He asked and she wasn’t sure how he knew about her hobby, if Will had brought it up before, but it made her heart flutter nonetheless, that he remembered that small detail about her.

“Yeah.” She finally looked over at him, only to find him already staring at her and it weirdly made her less anxious about her current position. In his bed. In her roommate’s best friend’s bed. “If you’re stuck, you should leave it alone and write something completely out of your comfort zone. Then when you go back to where the problem was, you have a new set of eyes on it.”

He was quiet, first just listening to her speak, and then really letting her advice sink in because it wasn’t something he’d ever thought about doing, but he made mental plans to give it a try.

“I’m sorry if this is really weird, Y/N,” he began, getting her attention when he changed the subject. “I know it’s hard to believe but I’m actually horrendously alone and I guess when we slept together I didn’t feel so much that way anymore.”

“I get it, Harry.” She sighed, never wanting to fully open up to him, but feeling like it was now or never to get him to stop making it more weird by apologizing. “Makes you feel like… empty.”

“Exactly,” Harry sighed and she glanced at him when he agreed so enthusiastically. “I haven’t been that close to someone in… months,” he rolled his eyes down to meet hers again, “and I guess I just didn’t want it to be like that again.”

The look on her face alone made it easy to tell everything he said resonated with her, like he was saying exactly what she was thinking too. It broke his heart to know that she, in any way, felt like he did, but it also made him glad someone finally understood what he was going through, even if in just the slightest.

“I understand, Harry. I guess I just don’t understand why you’re alone. Can’t you have anyone you want?”

He scrunched up his face, “It’s not that easy.” He huffed, “People aren’t all that interested in me as they are getting loads of likes on Instagram and having lots of money. I mean… I haven’t had a single relationship that didn’t end the same.”

“Still,” she mumbled begrudgingly. He was still Harry Styles. People still wanted him and, even if it hadn’t turned out so well, he’d still been not alone at some point in his life, unlike her.

He raised his eyebrows, a little irritated at this point. “Okay then, why are you alone? Can’t imagine it’s that hard for you.”

She rolled her eyes away from him and hung her head to disguise the embarrassment on her face. There were two big reasons why she was alone, and she was not about to admit them to Harry at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night.

“So what is it then?” He talked for her when he grew irritated with her silence and her inability to see his perspective on things, “Your lack of ability to talk to people? Because you have these massive walls to keep literally everyone out, including me, for the past however many months we’ve known each other?”

She shook her head and sunk deeper and deeper inside herself. This was all a mistake. It had all gone wrong because she opened her mouth and said something insensitive.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Harry.” She looked at him again finally, holding back the stupid tears trying to well up just from the mere thought of being even moderately yelled at, and especially by Harry who she’d never imagined being angry a day in his life. “But if we’re just going to sit here judge each other, I think I should go.”

“No.” He immediately reached across the king-sized space between them to grab her arm before she even considered leaving his bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell like that.” They stared at each other silently for a moment before he continued, “You don’t want to talk about it and that’s fine.”

She stared at him for a moment, and then at his hand around her arm and just how good it felt to be touched. Just to have human contact, even just something as simple as that. And then she felt just as desperate as she had when she agreed to all of this in the first place.

“Can we just go to sleep? I’m tired.”

It started out like it had before. A gap of space between them after Harry had turned out the lamp beside him. After he spent an ungodly amount of time staring out his window and listening to her breathing, and she spent the same amount of time overthinking, they both realized something wasn’t working.

“Harry?” She whispered like she was throwing out a line into a vast ocean.

“Hmm?”

“You were right… about why I’m alone. But… it’s also that no one’s ever really shown any interest in me because, um... ” she struggled, trying her damndest not to cry in front of Harry. “I’m... ugly, you know… so that’s, um...” Her voice was just a whisper she could barely even make out, but it was still the first time she’d said that to anyone before. Sure, she wasn’t facing Harry when she said it and they were in complete darkness, but it was still hard, hard enough to make her hands shake and the tears fall.

He knew it too, the way her voice wavered like he’d never heard before. He twisted his head over his shoulder to look at her, eyebrows furrowed even deeper when he saw the shadow of her hand move across her face to wipe the tears away.

And here she was; in Harry’s bed where she thought her problems would be temporarily solved, and yet she was still crying.

“So that’s why… I feel like I don’t let people in because I don’t want anyone to have to be stuck with me.” She finished and he flipped himself onto his back, still staring at her head like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, that she even thought that way about herself. He was sitting there in shock because, well… he had been wrong. He didn’t understand her at all.

Without a single clue how to respond without sounding like a disingenuous asshole, he went another route rather than opening his mouth to give her unsolicited advice.

“Come ’ere.” He whispered, helping her until she was in his arms again just like before. He cradled the back of her head with one hand as she hid her face on his chest and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. Slowly, she warmed up to him and tucked her own arm around his side as they fit themselves together like puzzle pieces all over again. Except this time, they were both consciously aware of it.

They stayed like that for a while until Harry listened to her breathing even out, and he could hardly keep his eyes open any longer. He still wanted to say a million different things, but knew it might only make it worse because his head wasn’t clear enough to say the right things. So, he just held on tight and waited for morning.

taglist: @afterstylesmadeit @cxnyon-moon @and-im-not-okay-with-it @chrryblsms @whydontharry @harryinsweatersandbandanas @idkthisisjustforfanfic @teddysoldbird @shawnsblue @thurhomish @theasstour @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @staceystoleyourheart @granolagrannie @defineharry @iambabyharry @1142590m @ashtondene @smokeinherperfume @cherryyharryy

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #onlyhuman

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jupitersmiles · 3 years

Note

I NEVER SLEEP SO YES I SAW YOUR RESPONSE AND KDNFCKSKSMFM IM IN LOVE AITH YOU??? THATS IT??? YOU LITERALLY OWN MY HEART BYE✋i cannot explain the way in which you made my heart melt, just the understanding that it is in your hands you beautiful angel you :’)

but!! for the ask game! 🐰🍯 and🍼! ramble as much as you want and i’ll read every single word! also i miss you sm and i hope you’re doing well! i love you and i’m always thinking of you <3

HAHSSGS GHOSTIE !!! GO GET SOME SLEEP >:( !!

i love you !!

thank you babydoll, i appreciate it :(( i love u so much !! i miss u too, but ‘m getting better; i’ll be back soon <3

🐰 - do you believe in soul mates?

yes !!!! definitely !!! absolutely !! twin flames, soul mates; i love the thought of them. the thought that, someone out there is the perfect half of you; through trial and error, someone is out there, someone that is perfect for you. it’s not just that, but the idea of multiple soulmates. we we’re made amongst the stars, our souls soon divided once completed, sent down to the earth with stardust being the ichor in our blood. but who says it divides into a perfect two ? who says the stars birthed you with only one other beside you ? there are trillions of stars above us, darling, and there is too much space wasted for only two. you cross people who sat across of you during the weaving of your being; you grow, meet them, and though they are not the one, they are still your platonic soulmate. you trust them, love them, and they love you too.

so, in short, yes !! i absolutely believe in soulmates-- all kinds of soulmates. whether they be platonic or romantic, i firmly think our souls are united with another on this earth, and the process of finding that severed string and tying it back to yours is something i adore !!

🍯- describe your favorite smell

citrus; dulcetly sweet with undertones of tang. almost as good as its taste, it wafts through the air, bringing a sense of serenity as it brushes past you and welcomes you into the room. its the smell of an early-summer snack during noon, warm and inviting, and ever so enrapturing.

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

my favorite memory has to be when my older cousin often slept over my house. with us being close as knots, we always hung around eachother, playing games and goofing off. this one time when he was sleeping over, we had been goofing off, trying to become “vine famous” dont ask, we were hopeless HASGAJ us being kids, we went through trial and error to make something we deemed worthy to be funny enough to post and make us “world famous”. so, the best thing we thought of was me recording him dramatically falling out of frame, acting like an old man and screaming because he was wildly attacked by a snake. we laughed for hours, replaying that video and thinking it was the funniest thing we had ever captured (it was not.) we posted it on instagram, got 5 likes, and then quit trying to become all-famous vine-stars LMAOJASDJ

#this was actually a lot of fun #i can’t stop giggling because of the stupid vine memory #if i find it #i’m posting it #HAHSHSG #but rly these were super cute !!#esp the soulmates question <3 #🥜 | lukas’ getting impish !#🥄 | spring’s regulars !#darling doe

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mushroommushy · 3 years

Text

Just some stuff on my ocs

Fauna

- She adores pretty much all berries she can get, as well as most nuts

- She cowrites books with Shellington, he does the animals and she covers the plants

- She is very jumpy, and often gets startled when approached from behind

Gazania

- She has a very fluffy tail, and sometimes chases it when she’s bored

- Knows several different survival tactics that come in handy in certain situations

- Always carries around some sort of map or exploration guide in her satchel, similar to Shellington

Freesia

- She loves to collect shiny things that she finds, such as shells or pieces of beach glass

- Is often heard running around at night, screaming because that’s just what Fennec Fox’s are like

- Is extremely attached to her yellow bandana she wears constantly, and will try to fix it herself if it is torn

Coal

- He’s very excitable, and his tail wags whenever he gets hyped up

- Climbs on everything, and often knocks stuff down with his tail by accident

- Startled by loud noises, such as fireworks, thunder or the metal of the ship rubbing together when it needs oiling and he’ll start yipping and barking like crazy

Xia

- She is ridiculously tall, at 6’1 and is only three inches shorter than Captain

- She stress bakes often, and when she does she ends up making a ton of food

- She’s kind of like the big mom of the crew, she’ll help them if they are upset

Neri

- When she was alive, she always carried a knife in her boot

- She stayed on the Diego Ramírez Islands with her brother until she caught cryptosporidiosis and passed away

- She’s overly protective of Hearth, the other ghost inhabiting the ship, but sometimes does mess with him too

Yukon

- Has a pretty bad fear of heights, he usually will not join his dad on counting populations if he’s using the helicopter

- He enjoys painting with berries he can find in the park, but his fur tends to get stained with the juice

- Adores eating white pine cones, one of his favorite snacks

Keanu

- Is one of Sage’s only friends that he can talk to, him being the only other ranger (Who he may or may not have feelings for)

- He’ll use his long tail as a scarf to keep his head comfortable when resting on hard rock

- He has gills, allowing him to breath underwater and helps Sage explore the cenote’s

Wildflower

- Is actually a huge pushover when it comes to Nightshade, fits the meek predator x badass prey ship dynamic

- She patrols during the night, while Nightshade rests and when it’s cooler

- Loves seeing how excited Nightshade gets when talking about her interests, so will ask her questions or bring her bones just to get her talking

Heather

- She is quite capable of disarming someone of their gun and pointing it right back at them if she catches them hunting illegally

- Is constantly annoyed by any men who even try to flirt with her, as she is an ace

- Some of her hobbies include cliff diving and making dream catchers

Fir

- He enjoys making frozen desserts for fun, and handing them out to others for free

- He’s a polar scout worker, he teaches the Cubs survival tactics and how to navigate the arctic

- Finds Willow’s protectiveness over him absolutely adorable

Nightshade

- Is a huge fan of vulture culture, and the ledges inside her cave that she calls home store hundreds of different bone specimens, her favorite being a Gila Monster skull

- Often starts bar fights for fun in the Western Styled saloon not too far from the valley

- Is extremely clingy to those she is close to, and has a hard time saying goodbye when they need to leave

Rose

- Has a basic understanding of medical care, and knows how to apply bandages correctly as well as a few other things (Taught herself this for Fauna’s sake after finding her injured)

- Can list every flower in the valley off the top of her head like it’s nothing (She isn’t a botanist, just knows a lot of flowers thanks to Fauna)

- She’ll video call Fauna every night, sometimes accidentally waking her up at 2 Am due to time zones and ends up feeling super bad about it

Sage

- Used to be extremely lonely, video calling family whenever he got the chance and jumping on opportunities to talk to people until Keanu joined him

- His limp foot does not allow him to run, so instead he’ll travel by swinging with vines if he needs to be somewhere quickly

- He’s considered getting a prosthetic foot so that he can actually experience running and full function in his legs

Lily

- She is extremely hypercritical of her work, taking each and every comment on it to heart meaning she is extremely sensitive especially to criticism (mostly when it’s sexist criticism with people saying no invention from a female is as good as a males)

- Her and Tweak will stay up super late, playing multiplayer games with their headsets and cursing at each other like sailors while also sweeping the floor with others in COD, Depth, Overwatch etc.

- Her best inventions so far are special boots that allow people to walk over mud and quicksand without sinking in and getting stuck, and it’s proved successful

Marigold

- She hates getting any bit of mud on her fur, it drives her insane with her being a clean freak

- Her and Evergreen bicker with each other constantly, and tackle each other until Marsh pulls them apart

- She’s often incredibly shy when it comes to making friends, she’s always worried of being judged for her clumsiness and with how quiet she is

Orchid

- Good friends with Calico Jack, and often checks up on him

- Not very easily angered, but one thing that gets him really fired up is destroying part of the forest

- He’s a FTM trans, but kept his name and sometimes still wears kinda feminine clothes because he likes too

Willow

- She’s very protective over her family, often trying to attack anyone she deems dangerous, this usually doesn’t work as they tend to be ten times her size and also not aggressive

- Often has nightmares, and will run to her big brother whenever she has one for hugs even if it’s the middle of the night

- She loves her family’s ice burrow, finds it incredible how much work was put in

Evergreen

- A massive prankster, and is constantly thinking of new ideas for her pranks

- She will troll her siblings whenever they come home by dumping mud on them

- She will respect those who don’t handle her pranks well, and will leave them alone (Ex. Belle or Lark)

Lark

- Her ears are almost always drooping or at least flopped at an angle, but she’ll sometimes cover her eyes with them

- Has been known to immediately burrow underground if she gets scared

- She is really good at cooking, often doing so for animals in the forest, for herself and occasionally for her family members if she can get it to them

Mesa

- She has severe ADHD, often stims without realizing it and is bad at reading body language

- She knows which cactus are safe to drink water from and how to get water from them

- Sometimes she blends in so well with the canyon that while on tour, the people she’s leading loose track of her, so she wears a white ribbon so it’s easier to spot her

#octonauts #ocs #octonaut ocs

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ephemerlskies · 4 years

Text

in the stars tonight | pjm

⇢ pairing: jimin x reader

[other members - seokjin, taehyung, namjoon]

⇢ genre: series, ANGST, enemies to lovers au, actor!jimin, actor!oc, (eventual) fluff if you squint

⇢ word count: 8.4

⇢ genre: Landing a role that might launch your entire career as an actor had come with the most unpredictable and daunting circumstances: grappling with the tragic loss of your boyfriend, Namjoon, and co-starring in a film with the vexing yet enchanting (and famous), Park Jimin.

⇢ warnings: explicit language, themes of grief/loss, themes of depression, (many) mentions of death, mentions of driving under the influence (please stay safe!!), themes of alcoholism, themes of escapism, mentions of alcohol, mentions of marijuana, unhealthy coping mechanisms, lots of internal dialogue with one deceased boyfriend, arguing/bickering, seokjin being seokjin, eventual love triangle (ish) feud

♪ playlist: dynamite - bts, move! - niki, saint nobody - jessie reyez, through the night - iu, ilomilo - billie eilish, the truth untold - bts, slow dancing in the dark - joji ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 (coming soon)

a/n: i, and i cannot emphasize this enough, can't believe this came out of me.... it was just a lil idea in my head, but then it expanded into this entire story that was way too long to fit into a one shot. so, here's me serving up a hot plate of enemies to lovers with a generous side of angst and longing!!! i hope y'all enjoy (and hate) arrogant jimin as much as i did hehe <3 ps i have no idea how long i want this series to be i'm lowkey winging it

The world does not slow down for anything. Not for catastrophes or miracles or even something as devastatingly common as death.

When your boyfriend of three years, Namjoon, lost his life due to another's drunken mistake, you realized this. The world revolves on a scheduled orbit, and not even your tragedy wedged a wrench big enough to halt life just a moment. Just to let you breathe and grieve without feeling left behind. However, you were left behind, both by the world and him.

Every sun and moon, every skipped meal, every unfulfilled rain-check, every isolated Saturday night, and every cancelled audition that came as quickly as they left paid tribute to this merciless phenomenon. It seemed you now existed just to watch the days pass, just to balefully relive the moments before Namjoon's passing. And that seemed to have been the only way you could have survived. To make a recluse of yourself because if the world was careless enough to let someone as amazing as him go, then what held it back from spilling even more wreckage into your life? For the past six months, you stuck to the cold, dead past. It was all you had to hold onto; letting go meant plummeting into a depth far too unknown and inescapable.

You and Namjoon were steadfast. You were still steadfast, or more appropriately, stuck now that you had no one to be loyal to anymore.

You and him were one of those couples other people saw and wished they could replicate into their own lives, but when it came down to it, rooted for your happy ending with him. The type similar to that of highschool sweethearts who beat the odds, or the type whose encounter fell along the silver lines of fate. Something beautiful that automatically made all the love poems authenticated by you and him. And when he held you, the idea of worry or evil seemed like concepts that did not exist past fictional tales. So warm, so loving, now gone.

The way in which you and Namjoon grew over the three years you were able to love him was in a convergent manner.

Your branches and vines were woven into his, and his into yours. Even your roots, the elements of your past, began to entangle beneath the soil. To root between each other meant there had been a foundation from which you grew, a stability that was once neat. There was no boundary of which would discern your life from his. And at one, more favorable, point in time, your life did belong to him. Namjoon was someone you only knew for a mere fraction of your life, however the moment he wandered into it, you had unlearned how to continue without him.

You didn't think you would have to relearn.

But then one decision forced you to do so. One person, who decided paying fifteen bucks for an Uber was not a wise enough investment, ripped out the plant of his body from your shared soil by means of inebriated judgment and a missed red light. You had no choice but to absorb the cruel sustenance of the sun completely alone. Most of your branches of life were left barren, with torn twigs where your body once borne fruit and leaves and beauty. But the roots were where most of the pain inhabited. A stubborn, sharp ache resided in your chest, deep enough that you might have had to be cut open and searched through to find the source.

It had been six months of 'Sorry for your loss' and 'Gone too soon' and your personal least favorite 'He's in a better place now'. It made you angry, because was there a place better for him that didn't have you in it? How could anyone know what was better for him when they didn't experience something as tender and gentle and loving as your relationship?

But none of the sympathetic smiles or half-hearted condolences made you quite as angry as the monster who was too selfish to call someone to drive them and consequently punctuating the eternity you were meant to spend with Namjoon. You always followed the virtue that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Forgiveness was a sweeter release than anything else, but if you could, you would take that drunk driver's life in a heartbeat. You would have gauged out your own eyes if the chance fell into your reach.

Though, no matter how hard you screamed at the universe for hurting you, despite the countless pleas to somehow retrospectively tell Namjoon not to go out for something as trivial as toothpaste so he might be alive today, holding your hand in this waiting room, telling you that you're going to do great, you knew the world wouldn't stop for you or your sorrow.

It revolves, waits for no one, and you had to pace yourself to jump back into the turning carousel of life.

"___. We're ready for you!" His voice was ten notches above a volume that wouldn't irritate you. The only hint you let slip that his tone made you want to throw this script at his crotch was the muted sigh.

You knew this audition was going to play out like the rest. They would ask you to read, stop you in the middle of your monologue, then say something like 'Thank you for your time, we'll get back to you soon' which was show business code for 'We are not giving you the role'. The only reason you were here was because you had been out of work for too long, the piles of overdue bills on your kitchen table a cruel reminder of that. Plus, you knew Namjoon would have told you to go.

He would have said something like, 'Get your lazy ass out of bed and go to that audition! You don't want Hollywood to miss out on a star just because you want to sleep in fifteen more minutes'. And it would have worked. It always had. Now, the only motivation that came to your aid was the echo of his voice, and even that had begun its slow descent into forget. Other than that, guidance of your own volition was as fleeting and disarrayed as a violent wind.

"Hi, my name is ___, and I will be auditioning for the lead. Jordan." Your hand must have been fielding its way through a nervous tick. The person you assumed was the director was eyeing the way it had been contorting at your side, and you hated showing that you were nervous.

"Perfect! We've already casted the other lead role. This audition will mostly be based on whether we think you'll have good chemistry with him." Him. So your possible running mate was a man. Before a list of names engraved on rows of stars cemented into the Hollywood walk of fame ran through your head, you lifted the script and collected all the air your lungs would allow.

Maybe, you thought, my courage and passion might come with it.

And when you opened your mouth, something magical that you credited to talent claimed sovereignty over your body. Now, you were Jordan. Jordan didn't have a dead boyfriend, now ex boyfriend, or luggage enough grief to sink a depression into the crust of the Earth. Jordan was a kind, low-energy, and sentimental artist coming into an age of overwhelming success and fortune —and love.

That's what alluded you in acting. For a moment, you could escape your life, leave your pain on the back burner while you emerged into someone who was unacquainted with the pain of losing the love of your life. It was akin to a drug, administering an intoxicating fill of temporary serotonin. Instant relief, and if you got this job you would have your fix of this twisted sort of high that tempered the Namjoon-sized void in your life. And Jordan's life definitely seemed to have, quite literally, all the things yours lacked.

"Wow, ___, was it? That was absolutely incredible!" The hand-covered whisper that followed this appraisal gave you time to begrudgingly peel of the Jordan mask. Within a half second, all the pain seemed to compound into your body. If you hadn't already shaped your entire life around that weight, you would have fallen over. Though you had done this, and even worse, you had been shouldering it for so long, you would have felt naked without such a burden. "Okay, well, we have a few more auditions but I think we have our Jordan! We'll send your manager the full script along with the schedule for the first week of shooting in about two weeks."

"Uh-" If you had not said something quick, the opportunity might have slipped away all too fast, the way Namjoon had. You vowed to grab hold of anything remotely good that arose into your life, giving you more than late nights of choked sobs and transfixed gazes out of half-curtained windows. This offer was clutched tightly in your fist. "Oh... Th- thank you! Thank you! Fuck, thank you so much. This means so much to me, thank you!"

Before you proliferated the meaning of the words thank you and the director's smile turned into rolled eyes, you stumbled your way out of the door. Waiting on the other side was a world that might strike against you with partially docile cruelty. The wind pressed against your skin, almost blowing away all your grief with the help of this successful audition.

That feeling, as always, was as comforting as it was fleeting. Because the scars of your past would not have budged for any brash current. Because your next thought disrupted the scant flourish of joy. It was the thing that came easier and sooner to you than eating and blinking; telling Namjoon any news of both good and bad ranks, sharing your life to celebrate or stress over. One of the many things that remained by an undissolvable adhesive along your mind. You tried to soak it away with liquor or smoke it out with weed, but there was no breaking of habits you loved almost as much as Namjoon.

I did it, Joon. I landed my first role. You thought, because that was the closest you could have gotten to relaying the news.

Your heart began to physically hurt. Heartaches were literal in your case. Literal and grim. You felt the grip of loss pierce its sharp thorns into your flesh. It had nearly been as painful as all the times your words were met to deceased ears, speaking to someone that had not belonged to you anymore. Six months had passed and pain cannot tell time in the way people can. So, you knew the marathon of your grief was one that followed its own metaphorical clock. You just had to keep running in hopes you could make it out alive.

Though, being Jordan for the next six months would help momentarily satiate your grief. If there were a remote for your emotions, this role would be the mute button. Your pain would still move as it usually would, but now it would be silent. You wouldn't have to listen to its unforgiving taunts and crippling obscenities. It was only just that you were paid reparations for six months of utter misery with six more months of narcotic, soundless distractions.

Two Weeks Later

If the universe had given you one good thing, it was skill and dedication to your craft. The script was memorized in just short of four days, and even a sizable amount of lines of the other characters had been stacked atop your memory. Doing an acceptable job at this role wasn't something that was worried you. In fact, the idea of wearing another's life on your body and on your heart was something you looked forward to.

It was a bit difficult to convince yourself how good this natural born gift was when the universe took something that felt a thousand times more crucial to your existence. Acting, or anything else that planted joy in you, was a consolation prize for merely participating in life. Namjoon was the reward you were meant to win in the end.

And you had no idea what the hell to do when the prize becomes in all of the sense of the word unattainable.

You hadn't driven in six months, despite the run-down Honda parked in front of your street, desperate to be given some sort of purpose. It was too much. Ever since the accident, the idea of manning a wheel that could take away more than it could ever offer was a responsibility you felt entirely too daunted to assume. Even though seat hogs, missed busses, and overcrowded walkways had been inconveniences of an indescribable level, it wasn't enough to put your body into the same vehicle that derailed your life.

Luckily, the bus stop was only three blocks away from the studio. It gave you plenty of time to get into character, however it also nestled in a span of time for Namjoon's voice to filter in and out through running your lines.

He talked to you a lot. As much as it made you want to cry, you held onto it, feeling as though it might be the last of his voice you'd be able to recall. If Namjoon's internal commentary were to suddenly disperse, you might forget his voice entirely. And you wouldn't admit this to anyone else, but you would always answer back. Sometimes out loud, and sometimes, when company forced you into sanity, you responded mentally. It kept you separate from life and any form of interaction with actual people, but it felt better than living in a world without him. Additionally, it helped keep his voice alive, which when you thought about it, was such sick irony. His voice, alive, his heart and mine and soul, dead.

And that was the only downside to acting. When there was another mind you had to engage in, Namjoon couldn't have broken the barrier and his voice wouldn't even register as an echo. Perhaps that was why you waited so long to dive back into your job. It felt synonymous with betrayal to do anything that would sever your connection already hanging by a single, fragile thread.

"___? Hello?" You were immune to every condescending gesture or vernacular weaponized in Hollywood by now. Your makeup artist's snaps fell into the base of annoyance you had grown used to. "Did you hear me? You're all ready."

Her voice wasn't too abrasive. If anything, you should be the one apologizing for dazing in and out of consciousness. Though, Namjoon's sweet compliments about how beautiful you looked with your stage makeup should have been the one to acquire this remorse.

"Sorry. I'm, uh, tired. Not used to waking up at six in the morning quite yet."

"Well, get used to it, or you'll have a rough few months ahead of you." Her laugh had shed whatever shell of pretentiousness once veiled her previous impression. "I'm Nayeon, by the way. I've heard many great things about you, ___. Let's hope you live up to the hype."

Nayeon's nudge was friendly, and it comforted you that within the first day you hadn't pissed off the person who could easily turn your face clown-like with a few heavy strokes of her brush. She was beautiful, too. If she hadn't been dressed in a black T-shirt strewn with foundation and powder stains, then you would have mistaken her for an actress.

"Let's hope so... I guess the director was selling me better than myself." Your eyes scanned the area, though no one seemed a fitting candidate to be your lead. "So, who's the other lead?"

"Park Jimin. I'm surprised they didn't tell you yet. I guess it's some obscure, artistic director decision to keep you in the dark. I’m lowkey fangirling right now… But, don't tell anyone that." Before you could respond, let alone react, Nayeon had collected all the products she needed for her next subject and was about a yard away from you. "Good luck, rookie!"

Park Jimin. You've definitely heard of him, but it surprised you that someone like him accepted a role in a romantic, indie, coming of age film that had not the budget to pay half of what he usually made in his repertoire of previous movies. He was certainly what one would consider an 'A-list' celebrity. The type paparazzi actually cared to stalk, and fans recognized in public, but were too shy to approach due to his sheer intimidation. It hadn't eased your nerves that he was notoriously withdrawn when it came to the behind the scenes portion of shooting a movie.

And, like any decent person, you did your very best to refrain from placing judgments without the opportunity for them to fill in their own narrative. Most of what you ‘knew’ of Jimin had been hearsay. However, you had some hunch Jimin wouldn't qualify as one who labored tirelessly for the roles he had landed or authenticated any sort of compassion with his rising fame.

See, acting and snagging a big role in a movie was characterized as a tall building for you. If one reached the top floor, then they would assume a wealth of opportunities and Oscar nominations and acclimation. Of course, this film industrial structure had various modes of climbing to the top. Some had stairs which called for more excretion and effort but still, all you needed were persistent legs, then each step would eventually get you where you wanted to be.

You had more of a ladder. Each wrung was slanted at an angle of which only deepened your brawl with success and had not been sanded down enough to save you from a generous supply of splinters. After a while, your hands began to ache and the fear that some high-society type would kick the base of your ladder always stalked the forefront of your worries. It certainly had not been a choice means of arrival to whatever awaited you on that top floor, however it was the only one available.

And while you had a ladder to overcome, Jimin had an elevator. The most he'd ever expend to reach that coveted floor was a few presses of a button. And perhaps his only sacrifice would be sharing the elevator with one or two others. Things just worked out for people like him. And an elevator’s delivery was always in a manner that was quicker than the likes of a staircase or a ladder.

When he arrived on set, dragging himself like his own body was a weight he shouldn't have to carry himself, you fought that instinct of yours to assume everything you needed to know from him.

Just because he's wearing sunglasses inside doesn't mean he's some arrogant asshole, even if that is the most cliché character trait of one. This internal lecture was certainly of Namjoon's doing, since he was always one to never run out of allotting the benefit of the doubt.

Yeah, I guess. But, come on, he looks like a fucking idiot. You replied as if he were really there before walking up to the callous man with your gauntlet thrown down by default. No need getting on Jimin's bad side, because you were sure it's complement was being blacklisted from the film industry. Instead of sharp edges you offered him a non-threatening smile and handshake.

Play nice. Namjoon reminded you before you had the chance to decide what you wanted to say.

"Hi! It's such an honor to be working with you. I'm ___." Jimin looked at your hand like you had filled it with mud and were intending on smearing his Gucci jacket, which you assumed was worth more than your monthly apartment rent. "Um, wanna touch base before we start shooting or..."

If his admonished glare at your hand wasn't encouragement enough to retract it back into yourself, then what he said, or more fittingly, what he didn't say next was.

The way his sigh infused a scoff within it made you feel small. It felt like fire, how thoroughly it burned you into a pile of ash, but then it felt like a gust of prickled wind that would scatter your remains completely. If it had not been for the way his head shifted from your head to your toe, you wouldn't have known that his shielded eyes were trailing the length of your body. Such a glare seemed like a calculation of your worth; it must have totaled out to that of a fly he had to swat away because the second you stood on the outside of his peripheries you stopped existing in his world altogether.

His back made a longer impression on you than his eyes, and that was your que to huddle yourself in the corner and stick to the two things you were best at.

Imaginary conversations with Namjoon and rerunning through your already memorized lines.

Before you say anything, I already think he's a prick. It might be pathetic to have instigated theoretical conversations with your dead boyfriend, but the world wouldn't know he would have scolded you first for already constructing an agenda to avoid Park Jimin whenever you could. You just felt an itch to lay down the first word.

You never know, maybe he had a bad day.

Yeah, well people like him don't need to be professional unlike the rest of us. I mean, I'm on the verge of openly conversing with you and I'm the one that has to turn the other cheek? Your script was decorated with a number of wrinkles. Proof that your anger was sleeping from your insides in the form of tightly gripped hands that were pretending to pinch Jimin's skin instead of the script. For once, you felt some grain-sized semblance of luck for having a grasp of acting to pull off pretending to love Jimin.

"Hey." You weren't quite thrilled to meet the person you had imagined pushing down a staircase standing over you. Without his glasses, it was difficult to remember why you had been so angry with him and you hated that. His eyes consisted of more than just irises and pupils, though you would not have been able to place what exactly accompanied these features. They were just eyes, after all, parts of a body. Functional. Mechanical facets of being. And yet, his seemed more than that. More than just sense mechanics. Perhaps beauty.

But for him to have been beautiful, it would have tainted the very idea of beauty.

"We're about to start shooting. Don't make this difficult, I'm trying to leave on time."

"Okay... Sure." Those were the two words you substituted for the 'fuck you' itching to crawl from your throat.

"I'm Jimin, but you know that already." The way he spoke was punctuated as though it was a waste of his time to spend any attention on you. If you weren't already drained of your strength from that tube of toothpaste that was some sort of paraphernalia of the night Namjoon became an article of your past, then you would have rolled your eyes or retorted with something that would knock him down a peg.

"I do." Your own weak will bothered you more than Jimin. "Um, I-"

"Let's not." Though he had no idea what you were about to say, a part of you agreed to not even indulge in small talk with him. It would be too forced and uncomfortable and that might leak into your performance on camera. Still, he had an abrasive way of going about it that made you want to disagree with him just to be able to lie contrary to him.

"Fine." It rolled off your tongue easily, like silk. His lingering eyes had you wondering if you somehow impressed him with your passive agreement or insulted him for not groveling for his approval. Either one would have satisfied you.

"Alright! Looks like you two got acquainted. We're jumping right in." The director, Kim Seokjin, was chirpy. Even if this project wasn't necessarily mainstream or highly anticipated, he was the type to salvage all his passion and pour it into anything he created. It comforted you knowing someone other than you found this to be somewhat life changing. "Please, Jimin, ___, on your marks. This is the scene where you two meet, so we're hoping you two can infuse that feeling of being slightly awkward but nevertheless enthralled in each other's presence. Got it?"

"Yessir." You said, and Jimin only produced a nod which seemed generous for him. Fighting the urge to snarl or squeeze your brows together came as a difficulty you had to practice at.

"Slate! Quiet on set..." Seokjin’s voice filled the empty space of the entire studio.

"Scene one, take one." Just as the snap of the slate reverberated through the room, your eyes changed just as abruptly. Your gaze upon the set transformed it into your reality. You looked at Jimin and now saw Laurie, a young soul filled with enough dreams and kindness one could have mistaken him for a cloud; the kind that spoke in loving whispers and gentle caresses. He reminded you a lot of someone else you knew.

You tucked Namjoon's voice away with the rest of your grief and became Jordan.

Amazing things seemed to happen when you least expected them too. You guessed that was the nature of amazing things, for if you expected them then they probably wouldn’t feel so amazing. About halfway through the scene, after a number of cuts, re-shoots, directorial notes, you noticed something. Or more so, this something willed you to notice.

Once you fell into stride with your character, it became easier to pick up on the person acting opposite of you. Maybe you hadn't given Jimin enough credit before. You knew maybe was an understatement, though you felt a sting admitting talent had fallen into his hands just as all his accomplishments had.

Jimin's acting rested on the side most polar to your own. You replicated, he revolutionized. You became your character, shrinking yourself enough so that one wouldn't have been able to tell who you were beyond who you were playing. Jimin, however, made the character his own. There was no minimizing his own body to fit into the mold of the character. Jimin was the mold, and he sculpted the character to fit along himself. He forged his movements, voice, and confidence into whichever role he played and brought life to someone strewn with a signature of his own soul polishing said character. All the while, he was inventive with each intention and emotion that were strung into his lines.

It was difficult to pull this off, being that you could easily begin to just play yourself in a movie and neglect any character mannerisms that you were supposed to portray, however Jimin seems to slip in and out of his role with ease. And with each take, he peppered in more dimensions to a character. He gave meaning and depth to a person constructed onto a paper script until you couldn't believe this person didn't exist in real life.

That was the amazing thing that kept your well-rehearsed lines behind an impermeable wall of reluctant admiration.

What hadn't helped, though seemed to have been timed to a tee to unwind your sensibility, and timing had always worked against you like you had done wrong to it, was the part when Laurie was written to sneak his hand along your waist after Jordan stepped backwards into his body.

His palm felt so warm. So warm that the entire world felt too cold for you to be anywhere but apart from his touch. Then, all your lines spilled from your recollection. He was standing close behind you, the plush of his cheek tickling your ear and sending the entire world away so you and he could reserve this moment just for yourselves.

"Your line." His whisper wouldn't be picked up by the mic, though it had no trouble debilitating the rest of your senses. Did he intend for it to blur any sort of attraction his character felt for you into the life beyond the camera?

The director called cut to the scene, and it felt like a lifetime before you were released from the entrapping heat of Jimin's body. When you spun around, hoping you could at least dig through your throat to pull out a deflated apology, the smirk laced along his lips illustrated every bit of his arrogance and once again shut you up.

From the way his eyebrow was arched, you assumed he must have read your mind. He knew what he did to you, and it reminded you of everything you disliked about Jimin. Presumptuous, prideful in his taunts. It also reminded you that he stood many floors above you in this architectural competition of acting. You were grabbing hold of each wrung as you went, unprepared for something as disarming as Jimin. All he had to do was peer down at the sight of you to make you feel a hundred times lower than him.

“___? What’s wrong?” You looked over to find Seokjin’s half worried, half irritated expression.

“No, nothing. Sorry, I just blanked for a second.” Jimin’s snide chuckle at your confession to a faulty performance didn’t help simmer the burn of embarrassment.

"It’s okay, I get it.” The director offered a smile as a peace offering, and since he looked not seven years older than you, it had you assuming he was the laid-back type. “Let's take five. We'll block a few of the scenes and finish the rest of this and we'll call it a day."

You made your nest over at the snack bar. Shoving half of a donut into your mouth had almost resurged your energy. Nayeon made a swift return to pat your face with more powder.

"Hey, you're pretty damn good." You were stuck with a mouthful of donut to null any chance of responding. "Except for when you kinda just shut down at that last scene."

You would have felt embarrassed, or rather more embarrassed than you currently did, if it weren't for the light laugh that followed. All you had to reply with was a shrug.

"I mean, I don't blame you. Jimin's pretty hot and if I were cozying up to him during a scene I'm sure I would also fuck up my lines." Nayeon finished applying whatever touch ups she felt necessary, not without a suggestive eye arch. This either meant she was going to shuffle over to another actor in need of visual repair or she would stay and talk. Her continued monologue advocating for Jimin's talents and good looks proved the latter was what you had in store. "I mean, damn. Also, I'm pretty sure he's got abs under that shirt. So, are you into him? Is that it?”

"It's not like that." The harsh delivery gave an impression contrary to what you said. "I mean, I just... He's just really good at this. I guess I got kinda intimidated."

Normally, you would have sought Namjoon's voice ringing in your head about how you could do this, reminding you how he believed in you. It would have gotten you through the scene however, Jordan didn't know Joon.

"Well, he won an Oscar for a reason, babe." You finished the rest of your donut and begun a prowl for another savory comfort food. "I mean, damn, twenty-five and already winning Oscars and getting nominations. It ain't for nothing."

"Yes, this is helping so much, thank you." You twisted in sarcasm as if that would make you seem any less intimidated. Again, Nayeon laughed off any shroud of roughness coating your words.

"What, do you want me to lie? Is that how you want to start this friendship, with lies?" Her elbow nudged you, and that alone communicated more than the brief exchanges you two shared. Now, you had a friend. Someone else to talk with that wasn't a figment of your own imagination.

Look at you, already making friends. Your smile was not as hidden as you attempted for it to be. Namjoon's little encouragements had that effect on you.

"What's that smile for?"

"Oh, nothing." You scarfed down the mini muffin, turning towards Nayeon. "Just happy my makeup artist goes easy on the blush."

She winked, and you felt ready to be sent back into the throes of this film. You weren't keen on Jimin feeling closer to a competitor than a partner in this project, however if that is how he wanted it to be, you were never one to submit so easily. You were determined to level this playing field, and your communion with victory felt like a well-deserved birthright.

"Thought I told you I wanted to go home on time, rookie." You watched his lips shape such venomous words, since his eyes, the unnamed, nearly beautiful presence, might have sunk you back into that state of speechlessness.

"I take it you're not a method actor, since Laurie is so sweet and you're a fucking ass." It felt good for all of one second before a series of reprimands fueled by none other than Namjoon now had you on the brink of apologizing.

"Feisty, huh?" Again, his lips eased out sharp words as if they would not nick the plump skin as it went.

You hoped Joon had nothing to say about how you were now tracing the lush of Jimin's lips. And yes, it had been six months, though you knew your love-ridden heart had yet to free its hands from grabbing hold of Namjoon, still, the feeling of attraction, no matter how brisk it might have been, felt like you were committing adultery. Adultery, over someone who was dead. You weren't the one who left him behind, and at the same time, you never got that shiny patent of closure. There was no break-up, so perhaps that was an explanation as to why your heart was foolishly stuck in love, never realizing its oath to loyalty was graced upon the deceased.

You thought of love now, while you were supposed to be getting into character. You thought of the one thing you once had held worn so easily, and now you had been chasing it knowing your legs weren’t enough to catch up.

There was a well in your eyes, supplied by the same source which fossilized a ragged lump in your throat. And you must have blinked twice as many times as you normally would since Jimin's eyebrows met halfway between his forehead as he watched you. Or, more disappointingly, he might have noticed your tendency to grow red in more places than just the whites of your eyes when you were about to cry. Holding those tears in hadn't helped with keeping your skin less flushed.

It frustrated you that he might have noticed, which only twisted you tighter into the verge of crying. You knew it was unlikely that his watchfulness of your pre-breakdown expression was due to a lapse of genuine concern. For all you knew, he was subtracting even more value from your worth, plummeting you into negative integers.

And if you weren't so dedicated to your craft, then you wouldn't have the ardor nor the ability to pull off acting like you loved him.

Nayeon is a good makeup artist, I think you have a thick enough cover of foundation and powder to hide it. That of course, along with any sliver of light in this dark tunnel, had always been attributed to Namjoon. He was the reason you kept going, the reason you had been able to get out of bed to drink a glass of water once in a while, the reason you did not completely break down every time a tube of toothpaste fell into your line of vision. Him and the memorialized voice was what chipped the lump free from your throat and dried your tears before they had the chance to spill.

"What-" Whatever motivated Jimin to ask you something had been gone almost immediately after it sprouted.

"Quiet on set!" There was no way you'd figure out what he was going to say if the director had mandated pre-shooting silence.

The rest of your day went accordingly. Nothing too devastating happened that cleared away the momentum of excitement of this being your first big role. Though, not that you weren't beyond grateful for this chance, you made a chore of reminding yourself to be aware of your good fortune.

And, with the help of a few well-placed improvisations that made you seem somewhat of a visionary in your craft, your previous mistake had been washed with water under the bridge in the director's eyes. It escalated your ego and confidence to watch Jimin scavenge for an unpracticed reaction to go along with the slight details or lines you infused into the scene. At a certain point, you could almost describe him as impressed with your acting. Maybe enough to bump your worth up a few decimals, not that that should be occupying your worries.

"Wow, ___! Look's like we hired the right thespian. Great work! By the looks of it, things will flow easier from here." The director, who you finally felt on a first name basis with, approached with a hug. Though, usually this would have sent red alerts, you could tell Seokjin had no ill intentions of the predatory type. "Also, you two have chemistry, but it's not quite there yet. I want this to be believable. There has to be some real life element of camaraderie if this story is going to be genuine."

"So, what exactly are you asking of us?" Jimin, of course, sounded all but thrilled with whatever Seokjin was suggesting even when it hadn't been specified yet. And though you hadn't expressed it outwardly, this aversion for what Seokjin has been suggesting was shared.

"I don't know, get to know each other? Method acting works usually. I mean, Jared Leto did it for that movie and he seemed pretty crazy." The attention was never yours to claim once Jimin had already pressed his phone to his ear and Seokjin was off reevaluating the shots taken today.

You were alone again. Surrounded by an entire crew and cast, but alone nonetheless. Your version of escapism was never as consistent as you needed it to be. All it took was a moment of stillness for you to drift into some place much darker than your current reality. Jordan was sealed away for now, and you were trapped in your own body. It felt horrible. Being you without the man who loved and cared for such a kindred soul felt no different than writhing in pain. Being you without him was empty. Before long, you might have fallen faint in front of your coworkers.

The only target you could acquire as of now was Jimin, taken away from the world for reasons much less burdensome than your own. Where you had a plight of grief to sift through, Jimin had a phone and most likely a supply of friends to text and busy himself with. Seokjin wanted you to get to know him, try your hand at method acting so to speak, and that was the excuse which allowed you to walk over and try to kindle some sort of conversation.

"Hey, so, uh..." The pause came to no avail, since it seemed as though you could have said nothing at all judging from his reaction. "Hey."

It took a fictitious clearing of your throat and three more seconds of unwavering silence to lure his eyes from his phone.

"What?"

As it had been for this entire day, everything involving Jimin was made to be some sort of challenge. A feat you had to overcome without an ounce of reprieve, just to remain standing.

"Seokjin said we should, like, get to know each other. Or, at least get along. I think that's a good idea." His eyes gave absolutely no clues to anything below the exterior of an expressionless face.

"Why are you trying so hard?" You waited for him to laugh, or even for a laugh of your own to slip and loosen the tension. A laugh to make what he just said a joke, victimless banter, because it would have been wildly insulting if that were the most genuine thing he had said to you all day.

"What the hell does that mean?" Your arms were crossed as if that would keep your heart safe from his cruel tactlessness.

"I'm not taking this shit seriously." He laughed, but it wasn't the one that you wanted previously. It sunk wounds deeper, with such a dull edge too. "It's just a side job so people think I'm humble, or whatever my manager said."

The puzzle began to piece together, it took this admittance from Jimin for the picture to emerge from ambiguity. This movie was some form of damage control for his reputation, and that might be because your accurately placed criticisms of his lackluster humbleness did not stand solitarily. Your big break had been reduced to a convenient plot of image reconstruction. You were familiar with anger, it was one of your trickier stages of grief to surmount, but it still affected you to the same degree as before.

He didn't expect a response. You could gather that much from the way he instantly turned back to his phone, rendering you nonexistent once again. Namjoon would have told you to remain civil. But Namjoon was gone. It hurt to think that way, but if his voice hadn't emerged to mitigate this situation now, then Jimin was yours for the taking.

"You're a fucking ass." It seems brash was the only approach to seize immediate attention from Jimin. His eyes widened as if you had grown twice as large and the vision of you wouldn't fit in his narrowed, judgmental glare. "This may be a joke or a throw away gig for you, but this means a lot to me."

"Wanna back off, Jesus. I only-"

"No, I don't wanna back off. I haven't had the best year, and having a co-star that treats me like shit isn't really helping either. And, I get it, you're some sort of elitist who thinks they earned their success." You scoffed, tethering his eyes with yours as though there were a string tying them together. And with each step closer you took, the knot only secured tighter. "But people like you, men like you, don't do shit to earn where they are. But it's so cute the way you think you did! Truly, it's embarrassing watching you flaunt your ego around like you actually have something to be proud of."

"So it's like that, huh? You know, I was almost starting to respect you." The fact that his delivery suggested this was some sort of badge of honor made him all the more pathetic. You should not have put it past Jimin to boast over paying a fundamental level of respect where it's due.

"Wow," You doused a generous layer of sarcasm over your throat so the words came out so. "Basic human decency? From you? How can I ever repay you for such kindness?”

"I said almost."

"You're pathetic."

"Like you're one to talk."

"Yeah, well at least I don't pretend I'm hot shit." The tip of your shoes finally closed the gap between his. Again, you were snared in his warmth, however it didn't feel as tranquil as before. Now, it was closer to a pot of boiling water, evaporating flesh and bone until you were steam floating along the air, bendable and displayed out thinly.

"You don't pretend because you're just that bad of an actor, huh?"

It suffocated you, being this close with him; the blurry details of his face became sharp this way. His eyes were hypnotically watchful of your lips, preparing for your next gambit. You surrendered only a smirk, hoping it would antagonize him. And you could have sworn standing at the furthest point of the Earth from Jimin wouldn't appease this invasive thronging. The universe had yet to expand wide enough to provide an acceptable distance away from him. Until then, you were left with shallow bouts of breath tasting of metallic hatred, hoping those would alchemize into words that would make you seem more intimidating that you really were.

"Please, I could act circles around you. Your performance is transparent. Anyone with a scope of the basics of acting could see through you."

"Is that so?" You hated how quick you had been to notice his tongue slip along his lower lip. He must have found this delicious, patronizing someone who only had 'friend number five' or 'cashier' as proof of their employment. Jimin was greedy, devouring all the blood spilled from his wounding retorts.

In some perverse way, being the focus of his attention had you feeling fulfilled. Jimin, the man commonly sought after among the demographic of teenagers and middle-aged women. Not only were you proving your merits of qualification to act alongside him, but you had something to prove to yourself. You weren't going to let Jimin push you around without pushing him right back. You were strong enough to fight. It seemed to have come natural to you to enjoy provoking anger in him. It felt as if you were finally accomplishing something that was unattainable to anyone else.

And even if you wanted to retreat, his gaze guaranteed your obedience. It was a battle, along with every other exchange you have had with him. Even when silence was the only parcel between you two, when the only semblance of noise was heavy, jaded inhales, it felt as though you and he were at wits to gather more air than the other. To see who would fall breathless first.

"You're pathetic." His words hit like physical blows, and you might have had to check for bruises along your ribs and torso from the churning sensation in your stomach.

"If I'm pathetic, I don't know what that makes you." You wanted your rebuttal to feel like fire. You wanted to scorch and sear blisters along his flawless skin for proof of any successful hit. “A privileged boy with enough of daddy’s money to get him any job he wants. But, I’m the pathetic one?”

He appeared unscathed, with one end of his lips rugged upwards, mocking you without needing any of the words to do so. Perhaps he'd gotten the best of you, as you were searching through your arsenal of refutes only to find it overspent. It would not have surprised you to discover his supply of acidic insults piling without a visible dent.

His eyes looked fully employed in studying you, and you felt disrobed to be under such scrutiny from a stranger. Jimin seemed to have been reading you like words on a page, armed with a twisted smile that was unnervingly addictive, but you tried your hardest to keep your book closed. You didn’t want him to know how weak you really were.

"God, you're so-"

"Oh, great! Both of you are still here." Seokjin's voice reminded you that there was a world of events beyond you and Jimin. For a moment, you had felt secluded into a universe constructed especially for any collateral destruction that might have come of whatever war was about to be waged. "I have some notes for you two. Go home, read, digest, and come prepared tomorrow! I have full confidence in the two of you."

"Thanks." Succinct yet not lacking any tonal sentiment, Jimin got the first word in with the director, leaving you scrambling to find yours.

"Thank you." You were frustrated in how recycled your responses felt after Jimin handled them. Actors like you always fed on scraps of the higher-ups, and they were never as appetizing or filling as you would hope.

"See ya, ___." Your name sounded awful on his tongue, like his voice had filtered out the good parts of it and the waste remained spilling from his lips. Like dirt or decayed flesh, or both, and saying your name was akin to saying a slur.

"Fuck you." Those words couldn't sift through your screwed jaw or muffled throat, but it gave you satisfaction that it had been said in the slightest.

It wasn't until you were halfway to the bus stop that the realization pummeled you down a hole you hadn’t recollected being dredged. That whole time, what might have been the product of a mere ten minutes, was the longest segment you had gone without thinking of him.

It was the most intimately you had ever engaged in a conversation with someone other than the late, imagined voice in your head. And it was the most you've gone without consulting with said voice before speaking. You simply spoke, and listened, and responded; like you were normal. You couldn't tell whether that was good, because maybe you would finally be able to move forward with the world, perhaps catch up with the life you were supposed to be living. But, at the same time, the guilt festering something acrid in the pit of your stomach had you convinced this wasn't entirely sunny skies and bright futures.

"I'm sorry." What frightened you, besides your mental slip to keep the words meant for Namjoon in your head, was the unreturned sound of his ringing through. It took the longest ten seconds of your life for the mental silence to be furtively trimmed by your own train of thoughts.

Jimin had done this to you, that you were entirely sure of. Jimin and his carnivorous tongue and greedy glare had drained your head of its second conscious. The one it had adopted when Namjoon's body could no longer harbor it. And that's how he lived on, through you.

Jimin took that away, somehow. You could almost kill him for it, but you had not favored a life in prison nor tabloids that headlined the Park Jimin being murdered or 'Crazy, Jealous Co-star On Murderous Rampage Targets Jimin'. So, for the time being, all that was accessible was quiet hatred.

And you took that over nothing. You hated Park Jimin.

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bts fanfic #bts writing #bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #jimin fanfic #jimin angst #jimin enemiestolovers!au #actor!jimin #jimin x reader #jimin series #bts enemies to lovers #in the stars tonight #rubycoast

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valhallanrose · 3 years

Note

K and S from the dirty headcanons for all of them! 👀

Insert ‘anything for you, Beyonce’ vine here. I’ve got a margarita in me, time to get SPICY

Dirty A-Z Headcanons here

For obvious reasons, answers under the cut.

Since these are both multi-part I’ll answer each question for each OC, but I’m gonna do it in bullet points for the sake of my brain.

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks/having marks left on them?

Zelda

Loves her wrists, the space just in front of her ear, and the insides of her knees to be kissed, especially if those kisses are laid out on the journey elsewhere.

Loves to kiss her partners on their temples, shoulders, and lower belly. Also of course a fan of a light kiss to whatever bits her partner has, usually paired with a cheeky look and a ‘would you rather me be here?’. Also, hello, tits??? Grabby hands, put them in her mouth now

Adores both giving and receiving marks, wears them with pride if they’re in visible places. Can, will, and has bitten a partner’s ass to watch them squirm a bit when they sit down later on. Scratches are great when she’s topping, love bites are ideal when she’s bottoming, and god help her if her partner is wearing lipstick. She’s an adult, she fucks, if you’ve got beef that’s your problem

Miriyam

Prefers her kisses on her mouth, but if she had to pick other places - her back, her neck, and her inner thighs. Loves her ribs as well, though it’s more of the giggling kind of enjoyment than horny enjoyment.

Happily gives kisses on necks, in the center of her partner’s chest, and when she’s feeling mushy/soft, foreheads or cheeks. Not really discriminate on kiss locations though, she also likes giving them on ankles, wrists, and lower backs. Also an ass biter. Suddenly I understand why Miriyam and Zelda work in that one AU.

Miriyam less likely to give markings normally, but she loves giving love bites and bruises. She’ll keep them to areas that can be covered if you ask, but otherwise she is literally going for the throat. Not particularly picky about what she receives, though, she generally just thinks that kind of shit is great.

Monster Miri is aggressive with marking. if you don’t tell her otherwise, she will grab with enough strength to bruise, and you will get bitten. A lot. She’s a territorial bastard and it scratches the protective itch.

Astoria

Please kiss their hands, any and all pulse points, and their back. Particularly if you kiss the phases of their moon tattoo down their spine, it makes them squirm like there’s no tomorrow. Kisses on their chest make them soft and if you kiss their ass, they’re just going to tell you they’d rather sit on your face if your mouth is already down there

Usually they prefer to kiss mouths, but chests (over the heart), wrists, and the pulse point on their partner’s neck are all fair game. Also generally just enjoys putting their mouth on bellies and thighs, because they’re soft and they feel nice. Please smother them.

They prefer to keep marks to where they can be covered on themself, which isn’t hard for their wardrobe, but when giving they’ll put them anywhere their partner wants. However, nothing makes them go more feral than the idea of leaving lipstick kisses on every bit of skin they can get their mouth on. Especially if mixed with some small love bites here and there. Drool.

Matilda

Tilly would love it if you kiss her thighs, ankles, or her abdomen. She loves her legs, they look great, please worship them and give them the attention they deserve because they are not this toned for nothing

Preferred kiss deliveries are to lower backs, the backs of knees, and stomachs - mostly because she thinks they’re under-appreciated but she also loves it if it makes her partner giggle. The good kiss spots are for when you can make your partner laugh during sex.

Not a fan of receiving marks, but will dig her nails in and give some good scratches if her partner is into it. It’s too risky if she’s in a show and she prefers clothing that shows off a bit of skin when it warms up, so she’d rather not stress about how it looks professionally. Prefers the aftermath of ruined makeup on herself after a good obliteration, though, so go for it, she’ll thank you later.

Tamryn

Absolutely adores his hands, chest, or his upper back/the back of his shoulders being kissed. It makes him feel mushy, especially if done when cuddling in one way or another

Prefers to give kisses to jaws, collarbones, and fingertips, though his favorite thing to do when he’s feeling soft is body worship with his hands, quickly following the trail they make with his lips. Odds are he’d spend hours happily mapping every inch of his partner’s body with his lips and fingers if they didn’t stop him.

He enjoys marking - because he can’t enjoy them visually, he focuses more on sensation. He prefers them on the softer parts of his body for the lighter, tingly kind of enjoyment, and spots like his ribs to make him jump because it feels sharper and draws his attention more. Also, to be entirely honest, bite his tits. He will jump but he loves it, especially if he can lace a hand into his partner’s hair while they do. When giving, he just likes to be directed where they want their marks, though he is also inclined to grip hard if he’s being ridden

S - Sleepy sex (do they give oral to wake their partner up? do they like receiving oral to wake up? do they like fucking their partner awake? being fucked awake? how about being fucked to sleep at night? do they have lazy morning sex?

Note: I’m running on the assumption of a discussion beforehand about consent and boundaries, because that’s important. Even if my OCs are okay with something, they’d never do it if their partner isn’t also okay with it. If this isn’t your cup of tea, that is a-okay, just go ahead and scroll on by, I understand. That being said, away we go!

Zelda

Will give oral to wake a partner up, and very happy to do so if given permission.

Loves receiving as well, though she’s more enthusiastic about giving in the mornings. Heavy sleeper means you can move her around a little bit, and you’ll know she’s awake when her thighs start squeezing your head.

Zelda’s situation for ‘woken up with sex’ is pretty specific, but I digress. She’s a stomach sleeper, and if her partner were, say, to gently turn her over and start trailing kisses down her skin, she’d be very receptive to oral once she’s in that sort of drowsy, awake-but-not-ready-to-leave-bed state. Which, at that point, she will start waking up pretty quickly, and if penetration is on the table after that point, she’d be very inclined to pillow princess for once. Just don’t be too rough on her, mornings are for soft and lazy and cozy, obliterations are for nighttime.

Not really inclined to fuck someone else awake, but would wake a partner up for the explicit purpose of asking for sex because she’s horny. Which, honestly, that happens sometimes, she has no shame in admitting that.

Loves a good romp at the end of the night, both for the purpose of tiring herself out or her partner, it’s just a good way to go to sleep after a long day. She’s usually fairly energized and will take the chance to wind down in one way or another if her partner is feeling indulgent, but if she really feels restless, she can take care of herself.

Lazy morning sex is definitely good, but uncommon with Zelda, usually because she likes to get up and start getting ready for the day rather than lazing about. Which is also why it’s better to wake her up with sex, she’s content to stay right there and pillow princess the morning away for a little while rather than jump straight out of bed.

Miriyam

Not a fan of receiving oral to wake up, it just isn’t her thing.

However, she will happily settle in and wake her partner up with oral, if she’s late she’s late and she’ll eat the consequences for that after she’s done eating -

Not a fan of being fucked awake, sleep is a vulnerable state for her and being moved around for that will set her into a fight instinct rather than anything else. Also not really the type to fuck someone else awake for similar reasons, she doesn’t like it on herself and won’t do it to others

Shitty day at work? Will accept both an obliteration and doing the obliteration, fucking her or fucking a partner to sleep is absolutely ideal, though you might start crossing into the Monster Miriyam instinct here. Horny bastard.

Loves the idea of lazy morning sex, but given that mornings for her on days off are something like two pm, odds are it’s just her dragging you back to bed for a cuddle and sex in the middle of the day. Not that she’s complaining, it’s a day off for a reason.

Monster Miriyam falls pretty close in line with this, but, well. There’s no such thing as a lazy morning with her. You can pillow princess in the mornings, but you’re definitely going to be awake for it.

Astoria

You will get absolutely socked if you try and fuck them awake. Or kicked if you try oral. Point is, don’t try it if they’re not awake yet.

Given the strength of their feelings about receiving, their thoughts about giving are also probably pretty clear.

Not at all opposed to being woken up for sex, but like...give them five minutes. And a few kisses. They’ll make it clear when they’re good to go, promise.

Loves sex at the end of the day. Sometimes their mind is so active that it’s hard for them to shut it down, but an orgasm (or more, if their partner is feeling indulgent) puts their head in this really warm, calm space that’s great for going to bed in.

Lazy mornings run on the assumption you wake up before them, which feels unlikely, but they are inclined to stay in their pajamas on lazy days. They wear these light, loose cotton nightgowns, and just those nightgowns to bed, but even if they’ve gotten out of bed to do something, they’ll come back. Especially if they can pull the bottom of said nightgown up around their hips and straddle their partner in one way or another, clothed sex is a big thing of theirs.

Matilda

Not as violent as Astoria if you try oral or fucking them awake in the morning, but she will very quickly push you away and give you the silent treatment.

Also not really likely to wake up her partner that way, it’s just not her thing

You can, however, meet her in the shower for a quick bit of morning fun before she has to run to work. Her shop, her hours, her problem if she’s late.

Definitely loves sex at night to wind down. It’s her preferred time for it, too, when she can take her time and not have to stress about work or orders or rehearsal - just focusing on her partner and making each other feel good, and that’s it. Granted, if she had rehearsal that day, there is not a force on this earth that will make her do anything other than pillow princess.

Lazy morning sex is kind of...eh, in her opinion. She’s usually up at the crack of dawn to go for a run, and if it’s when she gets back, she will literally do nothing before showering. Wakes her up more. However, she will give oral if her partner would like it when she’s done in the shower, and if they didn’t already join her.

Tamryn

Please do not give him oral when he’s asleep, he has a morning checklist he goes through when he wakes up to orient himself and waking up with a mouth on his dick throws him into something of a panic. He knows he went to bed with his partner, yeah, but he just doesn’t have the awareness to want that right away.

Not inclined to give oral to wake a partner up either, but if once they’re awake fully and they’d like oral afterwards, that’s a request he can manage happily

See above points for why he does not fuck awake or be fucked awake, thank you

Loves sex at the end of the day, though he’s usually more inclined to bottom at that point. It’s a good time to get him very subby and very pliant, though if you want him to top, you can squeeze a service top out of him with some direction. Good for winding down at the end of the day.

Lazy morning sex is a whole Tamryn mood. He likes to position his bed in spaces where the sun filters through the window so he’s warm when he does come to, and he loves to cuddle while he motivates himself to get out of bed. That being said, this is a good time (in his opinion) for sex, especially if you want him to top. He’s feeling warm and fuzzy and just wants to take his time, and he will if you let him. After that? Shit, he might not even need his usual morning coffee to power through the rest of the day.

#LONG #lemon juice #zelda hollyheart #miriyam von helvig #astoria fenharrow #matilda everard #tamryn olenev #asks

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 4

PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN

Chapter 4 - Prank Gone Wrong

Nova

The first day of classes has finally arrived and I couldn't wait to meet all the professors, other classmates and to start learning!

Herbology was quite interesting, despite the fact that I had absolutely no idea how dangerous some plants are! I thought that Herbology was going to be something we would go to even when too sleepy and something that won't need a lot of studying or effort but Professor Sprout proved us wrong in merely 10 minutes from the start of the class.

It was so fun having lessons with Penny, Tonks, and Tulip that I started to regret my words from the previous day when I told Tonks it's okay that we don't have all lessons together. We had so much fun in Herbology. Perhaps a little too much as Professor Sprout had to shush us a couple of times as we were chuckling too loudly.

The reason for that of course was Tonks changing her nose in a nasty-looking green vine and changing her hair to have a very poop-looking color. Towards the end of the class when Penny and I finally decided to pay attention, Tulip decided to grab one of the thorny plants Professor Sprout had on display without Dragonhide gloves.

Needless to say that the class ended 10 minutes earlier because Professor Sprout had to rush her to the Hospital Wing. Tonks and I couldn't stop laughing as her surprised shriek still echoed in our ears. Penny, however, couldn't help but be a bit worried for Tulip as she wasn't sure what exactly she touched.

To say that all my excitement for the entire school year disappeared and drowned itself in the Black Lake was an understatement when we got to History of Magic. The only fun part of that class was when the lesson was about to begin and Professor Binns didn't come through the door but flew through the blackboard and the whole classroom went “ooo and aww.”

It's not like I don't like History of Magic. Don't get me wrong it was one of the subjects I was most looking forward to, giving the fact that we don't start Care of Magical Creatures until our Third Year.

However, the Professor is just dull. He barely told us his name and then simply started with the theories of how magic and wizards came to be without even an introduction. Something Professor Sprout did really well and made me excited for Herbology.

I was sitting with Tulip in the third row. Besides all my Ravenclaw classmates that I've met when we got sorted, it was Ravenclaw's official first class with the Gryffindors and the only two I've recognized were the boy with black hair that covered his eyes and the redhead boy with lots of freckles. They were sitting right in front of us. I tried to remember the rest of them but to be fair, I did stop paying attention by the end of the Sorting Ceremony.

Tulip couldn't help but giggle the entire class as I tried to mimic Professor Binns by closing my eyes and putting my head on those few notes I did manage to write as I pretended to snore and give the lecture in between.

I didn't want to lose all hope when it came to classes and decided that after that awful History of Magic lesson I would give other subjects a fair chance.

Before going to Potions we had lunch. Tulip and I met Penny and Tonks in the Great Hall and Tulip was telling them how boring History of Magic is and trying to show them how I imitated Professor Binns. Tonks laughed so hard at the impersonation that some orange juice came straight through her nose.

We still had 30 minutes until our first Potions lesson, so we decided to just stay in the Great Hall, and Tonks was describing how awesome Defense Against the Dark Arts was and that she can't wait to use the spell the Professor mentioned, on one of the teachers.

“Yeah, I really think that some of these spells shouldn't be taught to witches like me. I just can't be trusted with them.” Tonks said while the rest of us laughed.

I looked up as I thought I heard a familiar hoot. It was Pip with a letter in his beak. He landed on Tulip's empty plate, dropped the letter to me, and hooted proudly.

“Nice job, Pip! You delivered your first letter!” I exclaimed as I petted his soft feathers.

I opened it and it was my mum writing me back.

My dear Nova,

I was so happy when I saw Pip that when I read you were sorted in Ravenclaw I wasn't even sad. I will give those ten Galleons to your dad without any hesitation as long as you are happy with the sorting. I was wondering if the Hat was going to debate between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor and I am glad my House was at least considered.

The fact that you already made friends doesn't surprise me. Did you meet them on the train? That's how I met my friend Molly (the one I constantly talk about) and I think those types of friendships are the ones that stay the strongest. Can't wait to meet them when we come and pick you up at the end of your school year.

I will write a letter to your dad. Even though I am still debating to tell him the truth immediately or should I tease him that you got into Gryffindor? You should let Pip rest and have him for company. He is a wonderful owl. He was so proud when he found me at work!

And I was waiting for you to mention the Courtyard as it was one of my favorite places to study when the weather was good.

Have fun, sweetheart and write when you have any news! Say hi to your friends for me!

Love,

Mum

“My mum says hi.” I said after carefully folding the letter and putting it into my bag.

“Wotcher to your mum.” Said Tonks and sniffed as she was still bothered with the sensation the orange juice gave her.

I ordered Pip to go to the Owlery to get some rest, something he didn't want to admit he needed, and then it was time to go to our last class of the day, which made us all happy since we had it together. Penny of course being excited because she decided Potions was going to be her favorite subject even before it started.

I could hardly keep up my hope that the rest of the classes were going to be great as we went to the Grand Staircase and down to the Dungeons. The only fun part there was when Penny and Tonks showed us the way to their Common Room in case we would ever want to wait for them in front of it. As we descended further down, the air got colder, it got darker and the humidity was off the roof. The walls seemed wet and the floors were slippery which gave Tonks and Tulip an idea to cover the floor with slugs.

“Could you save your prank for after the class? I really want to impress the Potions Professor AND stay your friend.” Pleaded Penny.

“Alright, alright! We will wait.” Said Tonks with a mischievous grin on her face.

“We wouldn't want to get anyone in trouble.” Added Tulip.

We opened the door to reveal a very dark room that was our Potions Classroom with a narky-looking Professor right behind us. He had as much greasy hair as the floor in the hallway was and with that crooked nose, I couldn't help but understand the Muggles, where they get their witch looks from in their stories.

For some reason, all of us went quiet immediately as he came in front of the class and glared at us as though contemplating who he will hate the most in our year.

“My name is Professor Snape,” he said sluggishly, “and while in my class, there will be no chuckling or giggling of any kind. I expect hard work from every...single...one of you.” He emphasized the last few words.

“I don't have high expectations for any of you as rarely does it happen that someone is interested and good at potions. Nonetheless, I expect every one of you to try...their...best.” He almost hissed at us.

“A bit intimidating don't you think?” I whispered to Tonks.

“Too hopeful is what I would say.” Said Tonks rather loudly as she still didn't know how to whisper properly. “He expects us to listen in this gloomy, dark classroom as if Potions aren't a dullenough subject without it.” She added.

“Will you two be quiet. I am trying to take notes.” Whispered Penny.

“Notes? On what, he didn't say anything important yet.” Questioned Tulip.

“Not important you say? What is it, Miss...Karasu. Would you mind telling the class why Potions aren't important?” Said Snape in an even more irritated manner than he spoke so far.

“N-no, Professor.” Said Tulip embarrassed.

“Professor Snape.” He corrected her.

“No, Professor Snape.” Tulip repeated and Tonks gave out a chuckle.

“Tell me, Miss Karasu, if potions aren't important, what can you use if you get poisoned by a mild poison?” He asked her and for a second I thought I saw a smirk on his face.

Penny's hand flew up at once. I wasn't surprised that she knew the answer, even though I had a feeling Snape, I mean Professor Snape was talking about the Antidote to Common Poisons.

“I don't know, Professor Snape.” She admitted.

“The answer is the Antidote to Common Poisons which is a solution for most poisons that can cross your path and if you don't have that it can get much worse to the point that they might not be able to save you if left untreated.” Snape answered the question for her, much to Penny's disappointment, who thought that she could answer her first question in Potions Class and impress Professor Snape.

“Well, perhaps you will know this. What is the ingredient...” Before he could finish his question he was interrupted by Tonks'.

“Could I go to the bathroom, Professor Snape?” Snape glared at her as if she asked him to not give us any homework.

“What did you just ask me?” He said slowly as if he couldn't believe his ears.

“I asked, Professor Snape, if I could go to the bathroom?” Tonks repeated her question.

“Can't you wait until the end of the class, Miss Tonks?”

“It's really urgent, Professor Snape. You see, it's right after lunch and I have a fairly quick metabolism.” The whole class burst out laughing. We quickly stopped when Snape looked at us as if he was never letting us out of this classroom.

“Make...it...quick, Miss Tonks.” He said while rolling his eyes.

Tonks stood up and hurried out of the classroom. She wasn't back for quite some time Tulip and I noticed while Penny was scribbling on what seemed her third piece of parchment. Snape was telling us all about what happens if we leave the cauldron on the fire longer than needed, what happens if we stir the potion in the wrong direction and something about heating and reheating the cauldron.

By the time Tonks came back, the lesson was almost over. She hurried to sit next to Tulip and showed her something she hid in her ropes.

“Blimey, I thought I was going to be too late. Only one Herbology Greenhouse was open and this is all I could carry.” She said not-so-much whispering.

Tulip had to put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. I tried to pay attention to Professor Snape again who was now describing different types of cauldrons and what each was best for. But before I could go back to writing notes, I heard something, that sounded like jelly, fall to the floor.

“Bloody hell.” I heard Tonks say as another jelly sound came from the floor. Tulip and Tonks sat in front of us so I couldn't really see what was going on but soon there was another jelly slap.

Tulip was now biting in her robes not to laugh too loudly, while Tonks was looking at the floor, disappointed. After a few more splashes the bell rang and Tonks and Tulip disappeared out of the classroom so fast that we couldn't even ask them what they were doing. Penny was putting her parchment, now 5 pieces, in her bag, while I stood up only to land on the floor with a loud bang.

“What is all that racket?” Roared Professor Snape as he came to the desk where Penny and I were sitting.

“Are you okay, Nova?” Penny said, trying hard not to giggle at my confused face.

“What is the meaning of this, Miss Haywood?” He looked so angry that I wanted to pretend I was knocked out.

“I-I...Professor Snape, sir...” Penny mumbled.

“Are those SLUGS in my classroom?” Professor Snape interrupted her before she or I could say anything to her defense.

“20 points from Hufflepuff and detention for you, Miss Haywood!” Snape snapped.

“Professor Snape, I don't think Penny had anything to do with...”

“Do you want a concussion AND detention, Miss Blackwood?” Snape was now staring at me. After I didn't let out a sound, he continued. “So, Miss Haywood, should we say you stay behind, clean the mess you've made and then organize the potions on that shelf over there,” he pointed without breaking eye contact with Penny, “by name and usage.”

Penny nodded quickly, helped me up, and motioned towards the door.

“You should go before you get into trouble too.” She whispered. She then followed Professor Snape to the shelves in the far corner of the classroom and I ran out almost as fast as Tonks and Tulip did.

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