#Heads up you WILL see me screaming here shortly. Probably.

[shima-draws]

Ahaha. Aha. I just finished Zou. I am officially. On the Whole Cake Island arc.

[huicitawrites]

Omen of the Cursed

Yandere! Ryomen Sukuna x Fem! Reader

TW: depictions of abuse, gore, mentions of suicide (non-descriptive), yandere

THE KING OF CURSES sits casually at the edge of the village well, biding his time. Two muscular arms support his weight on the cobblestone, while another relaxes on his knee, and his fourth is busy—clutching a decapitated head in his clawed hand.

Crimson stains adorn the tips of his fingers, and his feet are smeared with blood. Puddles gather in abundance throughout the village, and the earthy streets are littered with bodies and dismembered remains.

He has killed every single one of them.

He enjoyed it.

He relished in their screams and their agony: men, women, children, the elderly. They all sounded the same in the end, squealing and wailing like lowly pigs sent to slaughter.

At first, the village men tried to fight back, but once he claimed his first victim—his Dismantle technique turning a man into a mangled heap of flesh—they began to shriek and run. When they realized there was no escape, they started to beg.

Some cried for their children; others, for their lovers or themselves. It was amusing to observe how far they would go for survival. They offered everything they had: the village's meager gold, their wheat, their rice, their sheep. When they sensed his dissatisfaction, they turned on one another, offering up their wives, their children, their kin—one even stabbed his own brother and threw the corpse at his feet, declaring a desperate loyalty.

Yet, the King of Curses had come to finish what was started, he took their lives one by one, laughing maniacally in ecstasy and joy.

And so, he sits amidst his carnage—waiting.

The best was yet to come.

He tosses the head in his hand, its expression of horror still etched on the pale face as it rolls across the ground, leaving a trail of blood. He shakes his hand to rid himself of the crimson droplets before resting his four-eyed face atop it. His glaring eyes fixate on the village entrance, marked by a large, old Torii gate.

He recalls the day you abandoned him.

He remembers it all too well.

Ryomen Sukuna was born a cursed, unwanted little wretch.

Everyone believed it and treated him as such: the adults and elders in the village, who instilled their beliefs in their children. Even his own father abandoned him as a mere babe, leaving the village under the moon of Sukuna's birth. His mother, on the other hand, took her own life shortly after he learned to walk.

The villagers whispered rumors of a sibling he had devoured while still in his mother's womb.

Everyone despised him, and so young Sukuna began to despise them too—except for one.

You.

You probably knew of Sukuna as ‘an ill omen’ and ‘a cursed child forsaken by the very gods,’ but what surprised him was your disregard for the villagers' cruel words.

(He remembers the first day you met.)

“Hey,” your soft voice called to him in the village woods. He wore dirty, ragged clothes that contrasted with your colorful kimono. “Do you want to play with me?”

“Go away,” he spat, leaning back against the trunk of a tree, pretending to ignore you.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a playful smirk. You crouched by the river, scavenging for the perfect pebble—a flat little rock. To your delight, you found a twin of it, and with both rocks in hand, you approached the bitter boy.

“Here, you have one,” you tossed him a pebble. “I’ll show you.” Your squeaky voice was impossible to ignore, drawing his gaze as you meticulously adjusted your stance. He recognized the blue fire coating the rock in your hand. His eyes widened, and a single thought sprang to mind.

‘Is this girl cursed like me?’

You threw the pebble expertly, and it bounced across the water’s surface three times.

“Did you see that?! Say it was cool, right?! Your turn now; it’ll be fun!” You jumped excitedly, pointing at the lake with a wide, joyous smile.

Sukuna snapped out of his thoughts and concealed his amazement. He didn’t want to admit it then, but it was a very cool shot. With a blank stare, he picked up the pebble at his feet and mirrored your stance. He held it between the tips of his fingers, took a deep breath, and unleashed his own blue fire. The pebble soared from his hand, bouncing farther and more times than yours.

You sparkled with wonder. “Say, can you teach me that? You can see it too, the blue fire!” Your tiny hands clasped his for a jolly handshake.

He remembers the burning embarrassment on his face, nodding and stuttering when you said, “Say… Let’s be friends!”

Back then, you were children who became great friends. You were so different, yet inseparable. You were a pretty daughter: kind, gentle, obedient, playful, and pampered by strict but loving parents.

On the opposite end, he was the village’s outcast. Shooed away from stores, despised by everyone. Parents forbade their children from being near him, adults mistreated him without remorse, and even the village priests scorned him.

Yet you laughed at his antics instead of scorning him. You cheered him on and even sewed him clothes out of spare cloth. You helped him flee when villagers chased him with pitchforks and torches and snuck him food or tea.

Like a moth to a flame, he basked in your warm kindness. As you two grew, he coveted your friendship, wishing for eternity with you by his side.

But as your teenage years approached adulthood, things began to change. While Sukuna detached from the village and its obligations, you became bound by expectations. Your mother filled your days with lessons on housewife duties—sewing, cooking, and manners—while your father began seeking suitors.

You wanted none of it; your spirit longed to explore the world, but your heart was tethered to your family, making it difficult to ignore your parents' wishes.

In a moment of desperation, he proposed an idea, but you laughed incredulously.

“So you say we ‘run away,’” you cocked your head. “I can’t just leave my parents behind. What kind of daughter would I be after all they’ve given me?”

He wanted to protest, to argue that he could take care of you, but you added, “Besides, we need money. A marriage would solve their issues. Yet…”

“I could marry you,” he blurted out.

The words spilled from his lips impulsively, and though he masked his bitterness, a knot tightened in his throat when you laughed.

“My parents would never give their blessings, they’d disown me first.”

“I’m not that bad of a choice.”

“Sure, a boy who steals and has no care or responsibilities makes a decent candidate,” you quipped.

He knew you meant no harm and understood the frustration behind your words. But he stood up and left, even as you apologized. You were speaking the truth. He was still an unworthy boy—weak, poor, a disgrace.

He couldn’t intervene as you left the village.

Three days before your departure, a foreign man appeared. Older, yet toned, with a staff in hand, he seemed a wandering monk- he later realized the old monk was a pesky sorcerer. He should have killed him back then.

The sorcerer interrupted one of your encounters, pointing his staff at you. His eyes sparkled with glee before darkening in disgust as they fell upon him.

Surely, he saw the monster would become - no, the one he was. The hate, the fury, the greed brewing in his dark heart.

The monk spoke with you, offering escape if you became his apprentice. Under the guise of holy work and financial compensation, your parents agreed to send you away.

“I’m leaving, then,” you stuttered, eyes cast down. You couldn't meet his dark crimson gaze, knowing the look of betrayal hiding beneath your stoic facade.

“I will come back to visit; I promise, Ryo,” you said, the pet name spilling from your lips with sweetness, but he huffed in response.

“I will be here waiting, [Y/n].”

Ryomen Sukuna left the same night you departed. He had nothing left in the village and without your presence, he could tolerate the shithole no more.

Two and a half decades passed.

He left as a cursed boy and returned as the feared King of Curses—Ryomen Sukuna.

As he stared at the Torii gate, his foot bounced impatiently, fingers tapping against the cobblestone edge.

Soon, a figure emerged in the distance—a traveler on a mule, donning a kasa. For a moment, he mistook you for the damned sorcerer monk, but he felt your familiar cursed energy. It seems you grew stronger through the years as well.

A wicked grin spread across his face, revealing sharp teeth and fangs. His four bloodshot eyes widened and pupils dilated in anticipation.

Finally, you crossed the gate.

“Welcome back,” the King of Curses greeted. “Do you like my welcome gift?” He gestured to the bodies and blood scattered throughout the devastated village.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pulled back your kasa, revealing a solemn expression on a beautiful face. To Sukuna’s surprise, your eyes held no disgust, fear, or even anger, only a pitiful gaze that irritated him.

“Did you enjoy it?” you asked, ignoring his question. He huffed, wondering if you were attempting to seek a glimpse of that playful childhood friend.

The King of Curses laughed at your question, finding it absurd given the answer was obvious. “I found it most delightful,” he cooed.

Slowly, he detached himself from the well and stood before you. Even a few meters away, you could see the transformation he had undergone. He had become a beast—two extra eyes and arms, a mouth in his abdomen, a colossal build, and black curse markings embroidering his skin.

“It’s true then,” you sighed. “You’ve become the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna.”

“Tis how I’m called now.” It struck him as strange to hear his full name from you. “I must say it has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“How many have you killed by now?”

“I’ve lost count, darling.” Your frown deepened, and Sukuna’s smile widened. He noted how tightly you clutched the reins and how your body tensed. “My father and mo—”

“I’ve killed them both,” he cut you off, grinning wickedly. “Their deaths were slow and painful.”

“Ah…”

Now it gets exciting, he mused, watching as fury consumed your expression. This was the response he craved—a little punishment for abandoning him, if you will.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to hold back sobs.

“I have come to slay you, curse,” you spat, mixing pity with spite. You clutched the cloak around you, prying it off to reveal white and red Miko clothing. You held a shakujō, likely a cursed tool.

This was not the first time someone had come to exact vengeance upon him, and it wouldn’t be the last.

However, it would be the last time you left him.

The King of Curses made the first move, closing the distance between you in the blink of an eye. He lunged forward, delivering a devastating blow.

You leapt from your mule, who perished instantly. Your body shivered from his overwhelming strength.

Sukuna continued his relentless assault. Blow after blow, all you could do was dodge—there was no time to parry or block.

In a fleeting moment of opportunity, as you rolled away and encountered his exposed back, you swung your staff, chanting, “Cleanse.”

A blinding explosion of cursed energy erupted against him, bright light streaming from the metal adornments of your staff.

For a moment, you thought you had succeeded—what a fool you were.

He was the King of Curses, after all; he was no longer ‘Ryo.’

Sukuna remained unfazed, standing with his back turned to you. Before you could gauge the danger, one of his lower arms seized your staff, crushing it into splinters. He turned, crimson irises meeting yours.

“Was that all, [Y/n]?”

He reveled in your shock, and before you could distance yourself, he conjured his own spell. “Cleave!”

Hundreds of cuts ripped through your skin, blood gushing from every wound. You choked and coughed, your body crashing to the ground in a futile struggle for breath.

“Does it hurt?” he taunted, voice dripping with venom. Lifting his chin, he added, “This is but a taste of how I felt back then when you turned your back on me, spurning me like everyone else.”

He loomed over you, body casting a shadow. The wicked grin evaporated from his face, voice turning serious. “I find the fear in your eyes delicious. It’s a satisfying punishment for what you did to me.”

Crouching down, he drew forth a hand ignited with cursed energy. Not the familiar blue you knew, but a clear white. You had never witnessed such a technique, your weary mind too occupied to marvel.

Sukuna hovered his hand over your wounds, and in a short time, you found yourself healed, yet the damage had already been done—the fighting, the murder of people.

The King of Curses encircled you with his four arms, lifting you as a husband would lift his wife. Despite the tenderness once present in the boy you knew, you turned your head to avoid his gaze.

He scowled at your rejection; your silent tears pierced his resolve more than any weapon. One hand cupped your cheek, forcing your gaze back to his monstrous face.

"Spurn me no more, I will not let you, not again", he warned, his fingers digging into your skin.

“You’ve become a monster—what their words condemned.”

“I’ve become a king.”

“-of curses.” You cut him off.

His many eyes narrowed, “So what? Human or curse, it matters not in the face of strength,” he said nonchalantly against your melancholy. “All that matters is that I am strong now and that we are reunited. Even if you spurn me, I will make you love me again.”

He sighed, his voice as soft as a whisper.

“The boy you knew may be gone, but you will learn to love the man he has become,” Sukuna assured, his four eyes gazing back at you with an affection that twisted your gut, making your heart race in fear. He began moving toward the Torii gate, carrying you as if you were caged in his embrace.

He inhaled your sweet scent— it reminded him of the home he never had, the one he desires to build with you by his side.

“Finally,” he lowered his face to yours, “we are together again.”

His lips tasted of iron and yours tasted divine.

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

What would the joestars (part 1-9) reactions to their darling (gender neutral) skirt getting lifted/flinged up by a kid?

( I got inspired from that one scene from frieren where a boy lifts up her skirt...and i personally wanna see the yandere joestars reactions lol.)

https://youtu.be/gd8kDrA9bi8?si=7UVFjAViup42cxZw

There’s the resounding thought of “is it wrong to beat up a child?” going through the Joestar’s heads.

Yandere! Jonathan Joestar

He’s fast enough to pick up whatever kid did this to his poor darling. No amount of smacking and thrashing will make him let go until they apologize, and Jonathan is pretty upset and makes it clear never to do it again. He appears to almost be a very stern parent talking to them, but there’s just a little bit of an intimidating aura behind it that it scares the kid off. Not to mention his large muscular stature helps fend them off as well.

He’ll probably walk you home after and make sure the kid doesn’t try jumping you (He knows how petty an angered person can be sometimes).

Yandere! Joseph Joestar

He can play petty, and he’s not going to let some snot nosed brat just upskirt his darling like that. (that’s a view he’s only allowed to have) The kid doesn’t get far at all, and probably even trips with whatever hamon trick Joseph decides to play off. He flicks the kids nose, maybe even pinches it.

“Cheeky little….you think you’re clever, but you’re not getting far with me, go home already”

He’s absolutely petty enough to give the kid a shaken up soda, and have it explode all over him later, (and maybe pants him, himself at some point). He’ll deny it later when you bring it up

Yandere! Jotaro Kujo

Under normal circumstances he’d be pissed, but being obsessive puts that anger through the roof. Star Platinum grabs the kid by the collar, and pulls them backwards. His stare is cold as ice, there’s zero patience in his voice as he also trips the kid with his stand by the feet. “How about you run home before something that you don’t like happens punk” is about the most restrained Jotaro can be at this point. He’s definitely tempted to punt the brat into the sun

The kid likely has a bloody nose, freaks out and books it out of there in a blink of an eye terrified. Alternatively there’s a chance Jotaro catches the kid early with a little use of his time stop, and smacks the kid in the back of the head with his hand. (Nothing concussion worthy) but it still sends the perpetrator packing.

Yandere! Josuke Higashikata (P4)

It irritates him almost instantly as insulting his hair, he’s on a similar level as Joseph when it comes to these things and the kid is going to have something not quite looking right after the use of Crazy Diamond. Who knows how the kid ended up in a fountain later, it totally wasn’t him! There might be a few other embarrassing stints and the kid eventually never walks your or his way ever again.

Yandere! Giorno Giovanna

His reaction would be interesting here, there’s a weird mix of calmness and pettiness wrapped into one. Firstly the blonde likely manages to pickpocket the kid right off the cuff. Tells the kid he forgot something while waving a wallet or a small amount of money around. Giorno has an obviously fake smile on his face, talks to the kid for a moment or two out of your earshot, perhaps you see an ear pinch out of your peripheral vision.

Though a scream erupts shortly after and the kid is running off slapping insects off themselves.

Yandere! Jolyne Kujo

She’s not the type to take stupid crap like upskirting happening to you (much like her father). The kid almost instantly gets caught by stone free, tripping him up. “What do you think you’re doing kid?” She’ll be asking them if they think their age is a get out of jail free card for acting like a brat. Jolyne will absolutely clever enough to make it look like she’s a sibling of this kid while giving him a taste of their own medicine.

Since they likely cant see stone free, the kid keeps tripping over and over. She might keep him still enough for a few birds to come over and do their business. Maybe hold their mouth open a bit, and suggests not telling anyone about this unless they want their parents to know them as the town pervert.

Yandere! Johnny Joestar

He’d pretend to almost not even notice this kids antics, but the kid quickly gets tripped up by spin. If there is any objects around they would just happen to trip into them. “Not sure what you’re trying to pull there, but it’s not a smart idea to pull that stunt to someone I like” Johnny tells them bluntly. This kid probably ends up “falling” again in mud or another unsavory mix from horses. He just gives the kid a cold stare and gestures them to leave for their own safety.

Yandere! Josuke Higashikata (Gappy) Part 8

There’s some soft humming as he goes to stop the kid who decided to upskirt you. There’s a dark look in his eyes as he grips the kid’s wrist firmly. He makes it clear he’s upset, and likely embarrasses the kid by messing with their hair, making it an obnoxiously ugly style or generally dumping something on them. With the bonus of the kid walking into a pole before rushing off, ( all of that may or may have not had to do with Soft & Wet)

Yandere! Jodio Joestar

There’s really no going back when you mess with his darling. Anything he does to this kid, he doesn’t regret in the slightest. “Want to see my sense of humor?” He’ll probably ask almost mockingly. He asks how’s the weather to kid, and casually uses November Rain on them. If he has food or a drink he doesn’t hesitate to dump it on the kid either. “I don’t think I want a sorry honestly….seems too…insincere for what you did” he shrugs.

[simjaexy]

Laundry Girl

Pairing: Non Idol! Park Jongseong x Fem! Reader / Ft. Nosy Roommate Sunghoon

Synopsis: Jay hated the laundry mat. He didn’t like how loud the noises were, the kids that would cry loudly, but what he most of all didn’t like was his clothes getting stolen. That’s was until he met you.

Genre: Fluff, Crack

Warning: Cursing

Notes: Not proofread, Enjoy!

“What the hell do you mean it’s broken?” Jay snapped. Recently, Jay got a new dryer cause his other one just randomly stopped working.

His roommate, Sunghoon was no stranger to breaking things, but why the hell did it have to be the dryer?

Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders, “I think it is, it won’t turn on!” Sunghoon said. Jay groaned and gripped his hair in frustration.

“This one cost a fortune and you break it?” Jay scolded. Sunghoon gave him a look and got up.

“Dude it’s fine, there’s a laundry mat near here, you can just use that one until we get a new one.”

“I paid enough! When are you going to do me a favor?” Jay said. Sunghoon nervously laughed.

“Listen, I’ll make you breakfast in the morning. That doesn’t sound like a bad plan right?” Sunghoon suggested.

Jay still had a glare on his face, but nonetheless, he sighed and grabbed the basket full of wet clothes.

“I’ll be back. You owe me big time.” Was all Jay said and left.

On his way there he had an unreadable expression, but in all honesty, he was pissed. He hated the laundry mat and going there on an already bad day was not on his list.

It was five minutes away so sure it wasn’t a long walk, except for it was to go to the laundry mat.

He walked past people that gave him weird stares, probably because he was carrying a basket with wet clothes in a sunny afternoon.

He didn’t care though, he just wanted to get it done and over with.

Once he finally made it he opened the door causing the bell to ring and was greeted by little kids running around with a mom on the call.

She seemed stressed out as she watched her kids run around. Jay ignored them and went to a dryer.

He pushed his and Sunghoon clothes in the dryer angrily and put the quarters in the slot. He grumble as he sat down.

The kids that he saw earlier ran past him, one of them screaming while the other was laughing. Jay sighed. This is gonna be a while.

The bell rang on the top of the door which meant someone else came in. He ignored the person that walked behind him and watched the clothes go around a circle.

He heard shuffling behind him until he heard the spoke.

“Where the hell are they? Shit.” A female voice quavered. Jay wasn’t really a nosy guy, still he glanced behind him to see a girl frantically looking through her purse.

He turned his head back around. Maybe she lost something? He decided to mind his own business and instead occupy himself with his phone.

That was cut off shortly when the girl tapped on his shoulder, “E-Excuse me, do you have quarters I could borrow? I’m really sorry for bothering you.” Her light voice asked.

Jay felt himself moving before he could reply and checked to see if he had quarters. He had a few spare ones.

He took out some and gave them to the girl, which she happily accepted, “Thank you so much! I’ll pay you back.” She beamed.

Jay gave her a light smile and shook his head, “No need too, I don’t really use quarters.” He replied.

It wasn’t technically a lie, though they are some good companions for it. The girl giggled and put them in the slot and sat down next to Jay.

She was facing the other way, so Jay couldn’t really see what she was doing. Probably watching her clothes too.

It was silent for a few seconds before she spoke.

“Is this your first time here? Sorry, I just never seen you before.” She smiled. Jay felt himself fluster at the comment.

It wasn’t really his first time here, he’s been here before, but a while back. He didn’t know if he should lie or be honest. He decided to stick with the second one.

“I’ve been here before a long time ago. I’m here today because my roommate broke the dryer.” Jay said. Your mouth shaped into a ‘oh’.

“Well I’m here because I don’t have a dryer.” You laughed. Jay found himself laughing at the comment too.

“Do you not have the money for it or?” Jay stopped talking and stared. He didn’t realize that the comment could’ve came out mean.

“W-Well not in a mean way but-“

“My apartment didn’t come with one. My landlord said they’re gonna try to install one soon, so I’m just sticking to this for now.” You replied. Jay hummed.

His dryer suddenly stopped. That’s when he noticed the kids were gone and it was just him and the girl. He got up and checked to see if his and Sunghoon clothes were dry.

Surprisingly they were. He took their clothes out and put them in the basket. Once he finished he picked the basket up and looked at the girl.

“Well it was nice knowing you?”

“Y/n.”

Jay smiled, “It was nice knowing you Y/n.” He said.

She gave him a content smile, “Well I don’t think this will be the last time I’ll see you handsome boy.” You teased.

Jay felt his cheeks go red at the nickname you gave him and cleared his throat.

“Oh right, my name is Jongseong, but you can call me Jay.” He said. You chuckled and nodded.

“Okay, Jay.”

“Why are you smiling so much weirdo.” Sunghoon stared. Sunghoon knows when Jay is mad, sad, confused, drunk, happy, or even dazed. What he doesn’t know is why Jay is smiling like he’s in a trance.

Jay looked at Sunghoon and stopped smiling. Ouch, Sunghoon thought. Well it’s not him that’s making him smile, so who is it?

“What are you talking about?” Jay said. He looked back at the TV and laughed at a certain part of the scene.

“You’re smiling like a weirdo! Ever since you came back you’ve been jolly. I thought you didn’t like going to the laundry mat?” Sunghoon exclaimed.

“I don’t?”

“So why were you smiling when you got back!” Sunghoon bellowed. Jay sighed. He knew that if he told Sunghoon he’d make fun of him.

“I saw cute kids.” Jay lied.

“You hate kids.”

“Well now I like them.”

“Why are you smiling so much.” Sunghoon asked again. Jay felt like pulling his hair like earlier. He mind as well should tell him.

Before he could speak another word the doorbell rang. Jay perked up.

“Oh well you look at that pizzas here!” He chimed. He got up and went to the door, hearing a sigh hum escape Sunghoon.

He put the pizza on the table and went to grab plates for him and Sunghoon. Sunghoon caught up to him, but was still giving him a strange look.

Maybe he just witness something he liked? A guitar on the way home?, Sunghoon thought. Jay does have a liking to guitars, so Sunghoon just assumed that.

They both walked back to the couch and selected a movie to watch. But even though they chose a scary one, Jay was still smiling.

“Sunghoon have you seen my keys?” Jay yelled. Sunghoon came out from his room dressed.

“I got em. I’m coming with you.” Sunghoon said. Jay stopped in his tracks, hoping he didn’t just hear what he thought he heard.

He saw Sunghoon was wearing a white t-shirt under his blue sweater with sweatpants. Jay on the other hand wore something a bit formal (definitely it to try to impress you).

Originally Sunghoon didn’t wanna go since he too hated the laundry mat, but seeing Jay so happy Sunghoon considered to go. Let’s just say he’s a curious boy.

“You’re not coming with me.” Jay said. Sunghoon scoffed and closed his room door.

“You can’t tell me what to do, I can do what I want.” Sunghoon commented. Jay pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why do you wanna come all of a sudden?” Jay asked.

“Because I wanna go? Can’t I spend time with my friend?”

“At the laundry mat?”

“It could be bromance.” Sunghoon added. Jay rolled his eyes and opened the door with Sunghoon following giddily behind him.

Jay isn’t really the type to get insecure over other people, but the way Sunghoon struts right next to him like he owns the world definitely didn’t help the fact that Jay was holding the basket.

Even though Sunghoon was wearing comfy clothes he made it look like a runway with the way he walks.

Jay on the other hand, walked somewhat like an uncle even though he had more formal clothes on.

He wanted to at least try to impress you a tiny bit, that all comes crashing down to Sunghoon who was, Jay considered, more attractive than him.

Sunghoon always pulled girls from left and right, so it wouldn’t be new that you would fall for his looks.

While Jay was thinking, Sunghoon unfortunately was thinking something different. There’s no guitars, don’t see any cats anywhere, something isn’t right, Sunghoon pondered.

He kept a good eye out for the last four minutes, but hasn’t seen anything that Jay would like.

He looked over at Jay who also seemed to be in hard thought.

“Are we there yet?” Sunghoon groaned. His feet were already hurting.

“One minute.” Was all Jay said. Sunghoon pouted until he saw the sign that said ‘Laundry Mat’.

They went inside to see a few people, “There’s a lot more people than yesterday.” Jay said. He was only hoping you weren’t here.

They began walking but was soon stopped by a feminine voice.

“Jay?” A sweet voice said. Jay cursed himself for recognizing the voice. Sunghoon turned around to see a girl that looked around their age.

She had her hair down with a sweater and shorts. You had a cute smile. She’s cute, Sunghoon thought. That’s when it clicked in his head. He averted his gaze to Jay.

Sunghoon grinned at him, “Well there’s the reason.”

Jay ignored him, his cheeks turning red, “ O-Oh hey uh Y/n was it?” He said. Jay mentally slapped himself while Sunghoon closed his eyes in embarrassment.

Even though it came out a bit mean you still laughed, “Yup! It’s me.” You responded. Jay felt his heart melt. You were too sweet.

There was an awkward silence before Sunghoon spoke up, “I’m Sunghoon by the way, Jay’s friend and roommate.” He said.

He lend out his hand which you took. You gave him a sweet smile, “So you’re the person that broke the dryer.” You giggled.

Sunghoon gave you a surprised look, Jay just had to tell you, “Oh yeah, that’s me.” Sunghoon chuckled while rubbing his neck.

Now they were both embarrassed. You were still giving them that sweet smile, “By the way Jay, I brought my quarters!” You mentioned.

Jay laughed at your sudden comment, “Looks like I bring extra for nothing.” He said. You gave him a teasing smile.

“Aw you brought some for me?” You joked. He coughed and looked around.

“Anyways me and Sunghoon are gonna go find a dryer, it was nice talking to you!” Jay ranted. He dragged Sunghoon away and went to a random dryer.

“Dude you are embarrassing!” Sunghoon argued.

Jay gave him a glare, “Maybe if you weren’t with me I wouldn’t be embarrassing!” Jay argued back. Sunghoon scoffed and crossed his arms.

“There’s no way you can get a girl if you act like that.”

“I didn’t yesterday! I was actually normal until you came!” Jay snapped.

Sunghoon let out a humorous laugh, “You’re a funny guy.” He sassed.

They both continued bickering until Sunghoon put his hand in front of Jay’s face, “Let’s face it, you’re a bad flirt. So being a good friend that I am, I’ll do the clothes while you go talked to her.” He reasoned.

Jay swatted his hand away, “I can’t do that! She probably thinks I’m weird now.” Jay complained.

“It’s better to try than be sorry. Now go before I change my mind.” Sunghoon pushed him away and grabbed the wet clothes and put them in the dryer.

Jay cursed to himself before scanning for you. He noticed you were waiting for your clothes to dry, smiling at people that walked past you.

He felt his heart increasing by second with his palms sweaty. Once he finally went up to you it all went away when you gave him another smile.

“Oh hey Jay.” You said.

He cleared his throat dryly, “Hey. Mind if I sit with you?” Jay asked. You patted your hand on the bench.

He sat next to you, “I wanna apologize for how me and friend were acting, we don’t usually act like that.” Jay began, “It’s just that I didn’t really wanna see you today?” He said.

You gave him a confused look, “Do you not like me.” You questioned.

His eyes widened, “No! It’s not that at all! I was just nervous to see you again cause Sunghoon was with me.” He said.

You let out a ‘oh’ and looked back at your clothes, “Sunghoons pretty nice. He’s handsome too.” You shrugged.

Jay snickered, “Yeah we’ll wait until you see through him, he’s not as nice.” Jay smiled.

“Well the reason why I came today was to see you.” You twirled your hair, “I actually got a dryer yesterday when I got back, but I wanted to see you one last time.” You admitted.

Jay felt time stop. You wanted to see him? Jay felt his cheeks heat up again, but then he smiled, “Wanted to see me again huh?” He smirked.

You blushed and looked away, “D-Don’t start that now!” You whined. Jay laughed amusingly.

“Well why don’t we keep in touch? I can give you my number.” Jay said. You stared at him surprised.

“Really?”

“If you want.” He replied. You quickly took out your phone while Jay laughed at how urgent you were.

He typed in his number and gave you back your phone. You squealed in excitement. He admired how you were honest with your feelings.

“Why are you so happy you have my number?”

“Because you’re handsome. It’s not everyday you see a handsome guy walking in a laundry mat.” You said.

Jay chuckled, “Well I still have to get going, text me when you’re done?” He asked. You nodded your head.

“I will.” You replied. He got up and started heading towards Sunghoon but stopped midway to look at you.

“Let’s go on a date tomorrow.” He said. He felt a strange energy of confidence.

You gave him a cheerful look, “Okay!” You beamed.

He smiled back and went back to Sunghoon. Sunghoon gave him a smug look.

“Looks like someone decided to go at it.” He teased.

“Do you ever shut up?” Jay said.

Sunghoon laughed. He took out the dry clothes and put them in the basket, “I think you should be saying ‘thank you Sunghoon for making me get the balls to confess to this girl I like!’” Sunghoon joked.

“And you wonder why you’re still single.” Jay deadpanned. They left while bickering again, but Jay couldn’t thank Sunghoon enough for the confidence.

Once they got home Sunghoon plopped on the couch, “I missed you.” He mumbled.

Jay gave him a weird look and went to his room. He folded his and Sunghoon clothes separately until he heard a notification coming from his phone.

Pretty girl: Hey I’m done with my clothes!

Pretty girl: About the date though, where do you wanna go?

Handsome Boy 💞: Wherever you wanna go, it doesn’t matter to me

Pretty girl: Okay I’ll let you know!

Handsome boy 💞: Alright, see you tomorrow ;)

Pretty girl: 😚

Jay smiled at the message and hearted it. He put his phone down and continued folding his clothes. Today definitely was the best day of his life.

“Hey Jay! The dryer works! It was unplugged the whole time!” Sunghoon shouted from the living room.

Yup, Jay was gonna kill him.

[vhagarlovebot]

HELPING HAND.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: when aemond confides in you that he’s never laid with a woman, you make sure to change that.

content warnings: 18+, canon typical incest, unprotected p in v, curse words, loss of virginity, handjob, cockwarming, praise, inexperienced!aemond, a bit of fluff. block the tag “★. dark themes!” if you don’t want to see my dark content.

note: well, hello ! here’s another one of the works i posted on my old blog and just recently found. i edited it the best i could, so you’re probably still going to see some very poor grammar and it’s because i’d just started writing in english and because of that it is completely normal for me to still have problems writing in a language that isn’t mine. i really hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

BEFORE YOU KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING, aemond’s lips are on yours. you whimper, surprised but quite pleased, because you’d be lying if you say you haven’t thought about kissing him in many different scenarios.

his lips are soft and sweet, but you can tell he is insecure and that is why his movements are sloppy, he keeps his hands away from your body not knowing where to place them; but you need his touch, his warmth, and so you guide his hands to rest on your waist.

you wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the first girl he’s ever kissed.

without breaking the kiss, you move from your spot on the bed to sit on his lap, legs on either side of his body.

“your lips are soft.” you whisper against his swollen lips, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“yours taste like cherry.” his voice comes out raspy, eyes locked on yours. “i like it.”

yoi cup his cheeks and kiss him again. this time you’re hungry for him, smashing your lips against his own. and he lets you know he likes it holding you tighter against his body as your fingers travel down his head and tug at his hair, tilting his head back to expose his throat you start to suck, intending on marking him right below the collar of his button down.

he gasps, pants tightening. your fingers work fast unbuttoning his shirt, his smooth and pale skin screaming for your touch. you bite down on his neck and he groans, pulling you away.

aemond pupil is dilated, lips parted and red. you shudder at the view, so wrecked just by an intense make-out session. but you want more.

you take your top off, your bra following shortly after, and nod at him to do the same; he’s quick to obey. it’s like he goes into a trance the moment he sees your chest, and you think you can cum just by the sight of him.

“you can touch me.” he makes eye contact for a few seconds, and then lowers his gaze, swallowing. you know he wants you but he’s too nervous to do things on his own, so you help him by guiding both of his hands to your breasts. they’re cold and the friction they create makes you close your eyes and arch your back, palms rubbing against your nipples and hard cock pressing against the fabric of your undergarments.

once you feel he has gained confidence, your hands move slowly over his chest, caressing him softly as you start to kiss his neck. you drag your nails down until they’re at the waistline of his pants and, not wasting any time, you unbuckle his belt.

his jaw drops, taking a sharp breath as he lifts his hips up so you can remove his belt and lower his pants. and when your hand comes in contact with soft flesh, the sound he makes soaks your panties.

aemond squeezes your breasts, making you whine. “easy, pretty boy.”

you giggle, sucking on his bottom lip as you pump his cock. he’s panting, eyes rolled back and desperate. his hands are everywhere on your body, coming to a halt when he lifts your skirt, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

aemond whines, thrusting into your hand. “are you close, love?” you ask into his ear, increasing the pace of your hand, while your other hand lifts his chin up. his face is flushed and he’s trying really hard to not let himself go. “i got you, aemond.”

and that’s all he needs to cum in your hand, grasping your waist so hard you know his hands will leave bruises. he groans loudly, and you immediately cover his mouth.

you look at your hand and then at him, who’s resting his head against the headboard with his eyes closed, and you clean it on his chest making a mess between cum and sweat.

“fuck.” aemond murmurs, opening his eyes.

“we’re not finished.” you leave a quick kiss on lips before lifting your hips and moving your panties to the side. “you can take it. right, pretty boy?” he hums, eyes fixed on what he can see of your cunt. “i need you to look me in the eyes and say it.”

aemond gulps and his big violet eye looks at you pleading, the head of his cock brushing against your cunt. “i can take it. please.”

you grab hold of his shoulders, and sink down. slowly. the look on aemond’s face, contorted in pleasure, and the sounds coming out of your mouth creating an intense and seductive atmosphere. he holds you tight against his chest and groans, closing his eye tightly.

“you’re so big.” you whisper, his hands returning to your ass, helping you slide down further.

aemond sucks in a ragged breath as you lift your hips up again, just to sink down completely onto his cock. you move slowly at first, teasing him, wanting to hear him beg, but he sees right through you and squeezes your flesh as he starts thrusting into you. you moan, ducking your face into his neck, trying to muffle those sounds.

“oh my gods, please.” you don’t know what you’re asking for, but is like a praise falling from your lips over and over and over again.

your walls tighten around him and aemond moans so loud you fear someone would hear you, and then you’ll be in big trouble. your hand covers his mouth while you look for something, anything, and your eyes fall on a black leather belt by your side. without saying a word you hold it closer to his lips and aemond opens his mouth not giving it a second thought, blindly trusting you.

“such a good boy.” you say, taking control by lifting yourself up on your knees, fucking him rough. you reach between your bodies to rub circles into that sensitive bud that makes you bite your lips so hard you taste your own blood. “i know you’re close. cum with me.”

you keep grinding on him, tits bouncing with every movement, and it doesn’t take much more before aemond is cumming inside of you, groaning onto his belt, eye closed and a blissful face that sends you over the edge.

you hold your breath, head falling backwards and tights clenching around him. you try to steady your breathing as you come down, legs shaking.

neither of you speaks, all you can hear are your rapid breaths, and when you meet his gaze, he kisses your neck, inhaling your scent. his cock softens but he doesn’t move, and you don’t want to move either, so you stay there; your hands stroking his silver locks. you pull him back to look at him, and you notice that his eye is glazed over and there’s sweat covering his lovely, flushed face. a part of you can’t believe what just happened, but the other part couldn’t be happier. and satisfied.

“can we stay like this for a little while?” aemond asks with a raspy voice and swollen lips, a smile forming on his face. you nod and he buries his face into your neck, arms around your waist while yours are around his neck, rubbing his back.

and when aemond starts to hum a little tune, you know you’re exactly where you want to be.

[lazycats-stuff]

Do you write for justice League? If you do, can I request a male!teen!reader who’s part of. The batfamily and a vigilante and Bruce has to take them to a justice league meeting or somthing and the justice league just absolutely loves them?

Oh hell yeah. This is just screams fluff for me. Also, I wrote just for Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Cyborg, Green Arrow, Green Lantern and Flash, kind of based from the many animated films.

Summary: (Y/N) was grounded and Bruce couldn't let him out of his sight. The League adored him.

Warnings: maybe comedy? maybe crack? fluff, reader is grounded, Bruce is trying to parent, League adores (Y/N).

Batman didn't want to bring (Y/N) to this meeting, but he had no choice. (Y/N) was grounded and he couldn't be left supervised, but the problem was, everyone already had plans, leaving Bruce high and dry.

" Listen (Y/N), you are only here because nobody can supervise you. " Batman said as they stepped through the Zeta tubes.

" I know, you have said it a million times before we got here. What am I going to do here? Mess your reports up? " (Y/N) asked, clearly annoyed in the first place.

" Well, I can't trust that you won't sneak out of the house, so you are coming to a place where you can't escape. "

(Y/N) rolled his eyes and huffed at that. He hated this. Just because he snuck out of the house once, just once, to see his friend who was in the hospital and just because he borrowed Bruce's cheapest car, he was grounded.

Complete and utter bullshit, according to (Y/N). Okay, did he break a couple of rules? Yes. Did he deserve to be stripped away from his phone, laptop and patrol for 2 weeks? Absolutely not.

" For the record old man, that was the first time. " (Y/N) said for the millionth time again.

" That I know off. " Bruce dryly, making (Y/N) take a deep breath.

" I'm done with this, I'm going back home. " (Y/N) said turning back on his heel and started walking back to the tubes.

" (V/N), get back here or I will prolong it from 2 weeks to 2 months. " Batman threatened, making (Y/N) stop. Bruce heard a sigh and the teen turned around, walking back to Bruce.

He crossed his arms as Superman walked up to them.

" Hey Batman, who is this? "

" This is my son, goes by (V/N). He is here because he is grounded and there is no one to supervise him. " Batman explained shortly to Superman who shook his hand with (Y/N)'s.

" Welcome to the League! You can stay in the common area for the younger heroes if you want to. You have some snacks and food in there. " Superman said, pointing at the doors to the left.

" Sure. " (Y/N) shrugged off, clearly pissed.

" What did he do? " Superman asked as (Y/N) got out of ear shot.

" He snuck out and stole my car. " Batman said, already walking to the meeting room.

" Oh my God. "

" Yes, now can we focus at the meeting at hand? " Batman asked as he walked in, making Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Flash and Cyborg turn their heads.

" Why are you annoying him Clark? " Wonder Woman asked, watching as Batman took his position at the table.

" Batman brought his son here. "

Every single head whipped towards Superman.

" What? " Green Lantern asked.

" Yup. He is here because he is grounded. Want to know what he did?"

" Superm- "

Everyone in the room said yes. Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

" He snuck out and stole his car. " Superman said, making the others laugh.

" Okay, is that really the reason to ground him? If he is teen, then you only live once. " Green Lantern questioned, standing up. " Also, I want to meet him. "

" Abso- "

" Follow me everybody! " Superman announced happily. Bruce was going to commit a crime.

Everyone left the conference room in a hurry. Bruce just walked slowly.

(Y/N) looked at the room. It was big, with a big sofa and with a probably even bigger TV. There was also a kitchen where (Y/N) assumed snacks and drinks were. He walked over the room, just bored.

He didn't want to watch the news, he wasn't hungry or thirsty and there was nothing he could do here that will entertain him for hours, because knowing his father he would want to go over everything and be far too... Over the top.

He was confused when the doors opened. Are they done already?

" Oh my God, he is adorable! " Wonder Woman said, making (Y/N) wonder what the hell happened.

" Guys, this is (V/N). " Superman introduced, making the others lose their minds.

" When did you plan on telling us about him? " Green Lantern asked Batman who walked in. Green Lantern walked up to the young vigilante.

" Never. You don't need to know every single thing about my life. " Batman replied in his gruff voice.

" Oh Batman, you dared to hide this adorable creature from us. " Wonder Woman said, hugging (Y/N).

(Y/N) was more than confused as hell. What about the meeting?

" What is going on? " (Y/N) asked, trying to find Batman amongst the heroes.

" Also, I don't think you should have been grounded. You are teenage boy, you only live once. " Green Lantern added.

Batman just turned his head too look at Green Lantern. He gave him a blank stare.

" Well, it seems that this meeting isn't going anywhere. Lets go (V/N)."

Wonder Woman let (Y/N) go and he followed Bruce back to the Zeta tubes.

" You need to bring him more often! " Superman said before they left. Bruce rolled his eyes and just rubbed his face. They were back in the manor and (Y/N) took his mask off.

[mrsparrasblog]

Mission save the human race pt.4

Previous part next part

TW: Breeding kink, Rough sex , Smut, degrading

Before you could realize what was happening, Simon had already grabbed you and carried you down to the room where Johnny was. He was faster with you in his hands than you could be on your own.

You thought he was getting better. He lay in the bed, uncovered, his body glistening full of sweat, and he was shaking. Fever, possible sepsis—fuck, fuck.

You dont have any medication to save him from sepsis - if that were the case. You could stop a fever with your trinkets and the medication you prepared. Hell, you could try this natural healing stuff your grandma swore by, but you are fucked right now, and Johnny too. You can't panic; you need to stay calm for Simon's sake and his friend's sake. They'd make your attempts to save Johnny even worse if they knew how overwhelmed you are right now.

"Cold water, towels, onions, and Paracetamol now." Simon immediately ran down, gathering all the things you would need to save Johnny.

"What the fuck?" Kyle questioned.

"I don't have anything better. As long as none of you are ready to raid a hospital now, this must do the job," I screamed at him.

"Where is the nearest hospital?" John asked.

"16 miles away."

"We will be back in a day. What do you need?"

"Paracetamol, Morphine, Tylenol, gloves, new surgical equipment, as many disinfection wipes or solutions as you can get, new bandages, everything you can get."

"Yes, ma'am," Alex chanted.

The boys left the house in minutes, fully equipped with gear. If you weren't so focused on Johnny's safety, you'd notice the ache between your legs as soon as you saw them with your gear and how Kyle kissed you goodbye with so much passion.

"Gathered the stuff." Simon came up with all the things in his bulky arms. You took the towels and soaked them in cold water, putting them on his muscular legs. Simon watched every movement, making sure you saved his Johnny.

"It's just a fever, probably, and John went away with the others to gather some stuff from a nearby hospital."

"I can't lose him."

"I know."

You repeated that procedure for over an hour until his fever went down. He was still a bit drowsy, but he was safe.

"You saved him again."

"I did."

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

Two days later, Johnny was as healthy as he could be. He still slept a lot, but he woke up more often. And he was a pain in the ass; he never took his medication and always flirted with you, telling you that you're a pure angel and that he can't wait to finally be on his feet again. And how the others wouldn't be able to put some cubs in you like he could.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren't charmed by him. He made butterflies pop up in your stomach, and when you saw him kissing Simon, it was over for you. You wanted both so badly. The others still haven't returned from their raid, so you lay on the couch with Ghost, reading a book; he gave you one of his shirts to wear around the house.

"Can we cuddle a bit? It's getting cold in here."

"Sure, go ahead," he replied, sitting back down on the couch. He patted the spot next to him, indicating for you to join him. As you curled up against him, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. "What are you reading?" His eyes glistened with interest. You waited years for someone to be interested in you, and now you had five men—well, seven—but you didn't meet the other two, who were completely interested in you.

"Just a romance novel," you replied shortly. You knew it was a bit steamy, but you didn't want to tell him.

"Ah, I see. Well, make sure you share the juicy parts with me," Simon teased. He leaned his head against yours and started to flip through the pages of the book. "This isn't too bad," he commented after a few minutes. "Oh, do you like these things?" He pointed to a passage where the male spanked the woman, and you couldn't stop blushing; of course, you liked that.

"No, it's embarrassing when you read it. Stop, Simon."

Simon chuckled and closed the book, setting it down on the coffee table. "Alright, alright, I was just trying to be nice," he said, pretending to be hurt by your response. He leaned back onto the couch, letting out a content sigh.

You leaned against him, burying your face in his pecks. You lingered in his smell; he smelled fantastic, like sandalwood and pine. You inhaled his scent and sighed contentedly.

Simon's eyes closed as you buried your face in his chest. He could feel his heart racing and his breath becoming short. This wasn't supposed to happen, he told himself. But the warmth of your body against him, the softness of your skin—it was all too much.

"Si, do you think we are alone for a long time?" You wondered when the others would come back.

Simon opened his eyes and looked down at you. "Honestly, I don't know," he said quietly. "We could be here for hours, or we could be interrupted at any moment." He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

"You saw Alex and me, didn't you?"

"Yes"

"He made me feel good," he did; in fact, he made you feel desired. Every one of them did, but in different ways, but you still weren't sure about Simon. He loved Johnny, and even if both of them desired you, they had each other. Maybe they just wanted to use you as an incubator to get them a child, but nothing more. Alex at least gave you the feeling of truly respecting you, while Price worshiped the ground you walked on. Johnny was amazed by your appearance, but Simon awakened a lust in you.

Simon frowned at your comment. "Alex made you feel good?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even. "Is that why you went to him instead of me?" He sounded jealous. How did they agree on sharing you when all of them were so possessive and jealous all the time?

"No, look, I'm just sometimes not sure if you see me like that. In one moment, you're cuddling me, and in the other moment, you glare at me like I'm some scum."

Simon sighed heavily, knowing he'd messed up. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I don't mean to treat you like that. It's just... sometimes I get frustrated and take it out on you." He paused for a moment.

"I can understand that with Johnny's injury, it took a toll on you."

"Yeah, well, that's no excuse," Simon said with a frown. "I should be able to handle my emotions better than that." He paused for a moment before reaching out to gently squeeze your hand.

"Did you like how I took good care of him?"

Simon hesitated before speaking. "It was nice of you to help him, but I wish I would have been able to be as useful as you," he said eventually.

"You aren't useless. I'm useless. I can't even use a fucking gun," you admitted.

"Yeah, well, things are complicated," Simon admitted. He squeezed your hand again before letting go and standing up. "I'm gonna go take a shower or bath or whatever you call this."

"It would be good in times like this to save some water," you said cheekily, sounding like a fucking man on Tinder. You needed to improve your flirting skills.

Simon rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, smartass," he muttered under his breath before heading into the bathroom to clean himself.

You were thinking of joining him, but you didn't want to intrigue him or make him uncomfortable.

You thought about using the short alone time you had to acknowledge the ache between your legs. You slowly started to remove the lingerie under his oversized shirt and rub your clit. It felt so good; you missed Alex's touch and John's. You needed them all.

You started to finger yourself, pumping your short fingers in and out in frustration since they didn't reach the right spot. You were so concentrated on getting the slightest bit of satisfaction that you didn't notice him joining the room again.

Your one hand was pinching your hardened nipple, the other fingering your sweet spot, your back ached, and you noticed how you got closer to the sweet release you needed: "Fuck Simon, fuck me."

Simon couldn't help but chuckle at the sight before him. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you didn't even notice he was there. He stepped closer, his hard-on tenting his towel, as he watched you pinch your nipple and finger yourself.

"Mhm, fuck," you whined as you slipped in another finger. The sound of your moan and the sight of your fingers sliding in and out of your moist folds sent a shudder of desire through him. You were so wet and eager for release; it made him want to pull you up for a rough fuck.

He slowly started to stroke himself. The sight of his shirt coated in your juices only made him harder. He loved the thought of you being so turned on by him that you couldn't help but cum all over his clothes. "Mmm, you're such a dirty little slut."

"What? Oh god, Simon, how long are you watching?" you said, removing your fingers that were coated from your throbbing core in embarrassment. In all your years alive, you had never been caught masturbating before.

"Long enough to see you get yourself off," Simon smirked in response, his voice laced with amusement. The smell of your arousal, mixed with the steam from the shower, was driving him wild. His cock twitched at the thought of being buried deep inside you.

"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry, I was just so woken up."

"Don't apologize," Simon said, his voice low and rough. He stepped closer, his towel dropping to the floor as he revealed his erect cock. "I quite enjoyed watching you pleasure yourself."

You swallowed as you saw his hard-on. When you thought John was big, you were wrong. Simon was massive; he had at least 9 inches. How was this even possible? He was deliciously curved with an oh my god, is that a piercing?

"Oh god, it's fucking big. How does that fit in someone?" he just smirked before replying.

"I'll make sure it fits perfectly inside you," Simon replied, a sinister grin spreading across his face. He walked towards you, his massive cock bobbing with each step.

"Now, why don't you take care of that for me?"

You glided down on your knees in front of him, licking all over his tip and savoring his delicious pre cum "Oh god, I love your piercing down there."

Simon let out a low groan as you began to worship his cock, your tongue flicking over the piercing at the tip. "Yes, I have one," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Now suck on it and show me how much you want my cock inside you."

"Will it hurt if you fuck me?" You couldn't deny the fear of his dick splitting you in half.

"It might initially, but trust me, it'll feel fantastic," Simon replied, running his fingers through your hair. His other hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. "I promise I'll take it slow and make sure you're ready for my cock."

You slowly wrapped your mouth around his cock, trying to fit it all in your sweet mouth, but it was too big. You almost gagged, and tears fell on your beautiful cheeks from the sudden loss of air.

Simon couldn't help but chuckle as he watched you struggle to take his cock in your mouth. "You're doing great, baby girl," he said, pulling back slightly. "Just take it slow and try not to choke."

You slowly bobbed your head up and down, and his tip hit your throat. Simon couldn't help but let out a moan as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft. The feeling of your soft lips and warm tongue wrapped around him was driving him wild. "Fuck, that feels good," he muttered, reaching down to stroke your hair gently.

Simon's hips began to thrust involuntarily as you continued to suck on his cock, your moans vibrating against his shaft. He gripped your hair tighter, pulling you away from him slightly. "Fuck, Babygirl, you're killing me."

You grabbed his balls and squeezed them in a teasing manner.

Simon groaned deeply, feeling the pleasure shoot through his body. "God, that's it," he murmured, pushing into your mouth again as you began to stroke his balls gently. "You're such a naughty little slut." The mixture of degradation and praise made you go crazy.

You bobbed your head faster, and Simon's moans turned into grunts as you took him deeper into your mouth, the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat. His hips bucked forward, pushing against your face as he lost control. "I'm going to cum," As he felt his orgasm approaching, Simon gripped your hair tighter, pulling you away from his cock just enough for him to slide it out of your mouth. "Swallow," he commanded, his voice dark and demanding.

You swallowed it, but it was way too much; it ran down from the curve of your lips to your perfect breasts, making you look like a painting.

Simon watched as you swallowed his cum, a mix of satisfaction and pride filling him up. He admired the sight of it running down your breasts, making them glisten in the dim light. "That's my good girl," he praised, reaching out to cup one of your breasts. He scoped the cum from your nipples, putting it in your mouth.

He smirked as he watched you clean his fingers with your tongue, enjoying the taste of his cum. "You're such a dirty little slut," he said, his voice low and seductive. "But I love every fucking second of it."

"I'm not a slut; I'm a good girl," you protested.

Simon raised an eyebrow at your comment. "Is that so? Then why are you sucking my cock and letting me cum all over your face and tits?" he asked, his tone full of sarcasm. "Sounds like slutty behavior to me."

"Because I'm a good girl, and good girls satisfy their men."

Simon couldn't help but chuckle at your response. "Well, I guess that makes sense," he admitted, his grip on your breast tightening slightly. "You're a good girl when it comes to pleasing me."

"Can you maybe return the favor?" you asked shyly.

Simon grinned at your request. "Of course, baby girl," he said, reaching down to stroke your pussy. "You've been such a good girl for me today; I think it's only fair that I return the favor."

He admired the sight of your wet pussy, glistening in the dim light. "Fuck, you're so fucking sexy," he growled.

"I need your tongue there, please."

With a devilish grin, Simon leaned down and teased your sensitive folds with his tongue. "You want my tongue, huh?" he asked before pushing past your entrance and thrusting his tongue deep inside you. Simon chuckled at your moan as he continued to lick and probe your tight little pussy. He loved the way you responded to him, especially when you begged for more. "That's it, baby," he whispered between licks.

"Fuck Simon, so good."

Simon loved hearing you moan his name. It only fueled his desire for you more. With one hand on your hip, he used the other to slide two fingers inside you, finding your G-spot and massaging it while his tongue continued to lap at your pussy like a hungry dog. "That's right, baby," Simon growled against your wet folds. "You like that? You want more?"

He picked up the pace, his fingers thrusting deeper inside you as he sucked harder on your clit.

"Yes, please, more feels so good."

He grinned at your enthusiastic response. "Good girl," he praised you, sliding his fingers in and out of you while still working your clit with his tongue. "You're so wet for me. You taste so fucking divine."

"Please Si"

"Please, what, baby?" Simon asked, lifting his head to look down at you with a smirk. "You want to feel even better?" He asked, sliding his fingers deeper inside you before circling his thumb around your hard, swollen clit.

"Make me cum, please. Simon's thumb began to rub circles around your clit, making you squirm beneath him.

"Cum for me, baby girl," he demanded, his voice rough and full of desire. "I want to see you lose control." You came on his tongue, screaming, whining, and shaking. Simon felt you tighten around his fingers as your orgasm hit, and he couldn't resist sucking harder on your clit to milk every last drop of pleasure from you.

He loved the way you screamed and whined, your body shaking with the intensity of your release.

"Stop Stop it too much."

Simon smirked as he felt your walls clenching around his fingers, knowing that you were on the brink of squirting. "Go ahead, baby," he encouraged you. "Let it all out for me."

"Mhm, fuck Simon too much."

Simon chuckled as you begged him to stop, but he couldn't resist the urge to push you further. With one hand, he gently pressed against your belly to make it even worse, while he continued to stimulate your clit with the other. "You like being controlled?"

You tried to move your legs away, pushing them together, not wanting to lose control.

Simon watched as you tried unsuccessfully to move your legs away. He smiled cruelly at your futile efforts before tightening his grip on your thighs. "I think you need to learn who's really in charge here," he growled.

Simon relished in the power he had over you as he brought you to yet another orgasm. He could see the pleasure and frustration warring on your face, and it only fueled his desires. "Do you like feeling so helpless?"

"Yes, Simon," you whined, enjoying his dominant behavior.

"Good girl," Simon praised you, his voice thick with satisfaction. He continued to tease you, pressing his fingers inside you just a little bit deeper each time, seeking out any remaining pleasure centers within your tight little pussy.

He started to place small slaps on your abused clit.

"Ahh, fuck."

Simon moaned as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. The combination of pleasure and pain from your reactions was addictive. He couldn't help but increase the intensity of both, slapping your clit harder with each passing moment. With a hard slap, you came a fifth time, squirting all over his face - coating him completely, and the couch under you,

He let out a low growl of satisfaction as he felt your pussy clenching tightly around his fingers one last time before releasing them from their grip.

"I'm sorry," you said.

"Don't apologize," Simon murmured, his gaze lingering on you. "That was fucking beautiful; you taste like pure heaven."

You looked at his throbbing dick, reaching for it.

Simon saw the look in your eyes and grinned, wrapping his hand around his throbbing erection. "You want more?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "You're such a greedy little slut," he teased you before guiding his cock to your entrance. You winced as he put it inside you, inch for inch.

"I know it's big, but you can take it," Simon grunted, his eyes locked on yours as he began to pound into you. The head of his cock hit your cervix with each powerful stroke, filling you.

You were so tight around him that it felt like heaven itself was wrapped around his shaft.

Feeling your legs wrap around his hips, Simon groaned low in pleasure. The sensation of being so tightly held while he thrust into you was exquisite. He reached down between your bodies, his fingers finding their way to your clit.

"No too much, Si."

Simon couldn't help but laugh at your attempts to pull him out. "I told you it was going to be big," he teased, slamming himself into you harder. His hand on your clit moved faster, his fingers tracing over the sensitive nub.

"Hurts so good," you admitted.

"You like pain, then?" Simon growled, his face twisted with lust and anger. With one last hard push, he buried himself deep within you, as far as he could go. "Say it, you fucking slut. Tell me you love it."

"I love it when you're rough with me, Si," you moaned. He felt like heaven and hell at the same time inside of you. His big cum-loaded balls hit your ass all over again, leaving his mark on you.

"Fuck yes, you do," Simon hissed, grabbing your hips and slamming himself into you over and over again. His fingers on your clit were relentless, rubbing in circles to drive you closer to the edge. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight," Simon warned, his voice low and rough. He pulled out of you with a wet pop and spun you around, pushing you on all fours and arching your back.

Simon slammed himself into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust into you with all his strength. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, and he could feel you clenching around him, trying to keep up with his powerful strokes.

Simon's fingers dug into your hips as he pounded into you, his breathing becoming ragged. "You like that?" He asked roughly, knowing the answer well. "You love it when I take you hard and rough, don't you?"

"Yes Si"

Simon's pace quickened, his movements becoming more frantic as he reached the edge of release. He leaned down and bit your shoulder, growling incoherently as he felt himself about to cough. "Your pussy is so fucking tight."

As you begged him for more, Simon's cock throbbed even harder, the head hitting your cervix with each powerful thrust. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth. "No one took me so good as you did."

"Mhm, fuck, best cunt you ever had?"

Simon grunted as he felt himself about to explode inside of you. "Best cunt I ever fucking had," he growled into your ear, kissing you all over your neck.

"Mhm, Si, please fill me up."

He smiled, his teeth bared in a devilish grin. "You want my baby in your belly?" he asked, his voice a low growl. For the first time, you betrayed yourself and nodded. You wanted his fucking baby and nothing more than it.

"I'm going to fuck a baby inside of you." Simon's thrusts became even more powerful, his hips slamming into yours as he felt himself reach the peak of pleasure. "You're going to be a Riley," he growled, feeling his cock twitch and throb inside you as he filled you with his seed.

As you both came together, Simon's seed mixed with your sweet nectar. He continued to push his cum over and over again into your cervix, lifting your legs, not allowing one drop to escape before he impregnated you.

After he turned soft, He pulled out of you and collapsed on the couch, panting heavily as he watched his thick, white cum drip from your pussy onto the fabric.

You couldn't stop laughing as you saw his cum dripping from your fucked-out core.

Simon grinned at you, his eyes glinting playfully. "You think that's funny?" He asked, reaching over to give you a light swat on the ass. "Just wait until we have to deal with a tiny little mini-me running around."

"Oh god, that will be hell." You laughed, but somehow you wanted this baby to be his. It was selfish; he had Johnny, and you were only a tool for him.

"You know you aren't a slut; I just thought you liked the degrading," he kissed you on your forehead and then down to your nose, to your plump lips.

"I loved it."

"You look sad for someone who had six orgasms."

"It's just that sometimes I feel like an incubator for all of you, not like a person." Small tears escaped your eyes, and you felt pathetic. You should have said this to Alex and not to Simon.

"Oh, baby girl, you aren't. The captain is smitten with you. Gaz is obsessed with every word you say. Alex made love to you. And Johnny and I look. I know we're a couple, but we are Poly, and we don't want to have just your baby. All Johnny talks about is the sweet angel who saved him. You are important, and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way." Your heart swells at his words.

"You made me feel amazing, Si."

"And I will continue, baby girl, and now on your belly, let me give you a massage. You deserve it after taking it like a champ."

[formulaforza]

Haiiiiiii i love your writing, could i request Lance Stroll with the prompt the first initial kiss being a simple peck, then they immediately go back in for a stronger, more passionate one?? I feel like that’s very him vibes.

—nowhere in particular

pairing: lance stroll x reader wc: 1.1k summ. everything with lance is so damn... friendly.

It’s been nearly three months of “Oh, Lance and I? We’re… we’re nothing,” followed by a pursed smile on your lips and an eye roll from whoever was bold enough to ask you. Three months, some eighty-something days of we’re nothing, when the two of you were most certainly fucking something. 

You weren’t dating, that was for sure. And you weren’t fucking, either. So, to anyone else it might look like you were nothing. But even if you thought you were crazy—the dozen or so people who seem to ask you about him every time they see the two of you interact is enough proof that you really are something. 

It’s hard to place exactly what it is, but it falls somewhere on the fault line between friends and dating, moving through like with the promise not to date anyone else, but without the balls to just date each other. 

It’s not that you don’t have the balls, it’s that you refuse to. You’ve always been a firm believer in him making the first move. You just never thought you’d be as desperate for someone to make the move as you are for Lance to just up and get it over with already.

Always a firm believer in the guy making the first move, but christ. Three months of waiting, and you’re about two days away from reaching your breaking point. 

Lance sits next to you on the flannel blanket in the park. The “friendly flannel blanket,” as he’d said shortly after proposing the idea—made skittish by your lack of response within the five second window he gave you to do so— “that I always have, like, in my car, y’know.” You couldn’t see him through the telephone lines, but you could imagine it, the way his hand nervously ran over the back of his neck. 

He was always adorable like that, all nervous and fidgety when you did anything more than give him the time of day. It’s cute. You’ve always thought it was cute when he was nervous, because he spends the rest of the time so stupidly confident. You like that you can make him nervous, but it seems like you’ve made him too nervous. 

Because he sits next to you on the friendly flannel blanket with the friendly picnic he’d prepared and the friendly cake he’d brought with carefully placed raspberries and the friendly bottle of red wine. You sit next to him, wearing the friendly hoodie he’d pulled over and off his head when you shuddered with the breeze, a friendly centimeter of space between your crossed legs and his wild brown hair, your eyes fixed to his friendly pink lips when he talks. You want to scream—fuck friends, Lance. Fuck friendly, and just kiss me already. 

Lance’s head, meanwhile, fucking spins. He’s such an idiot, he thinks, can’t stop himself from speaking—from feeling the need to inform you (lie to you) that everything he touches is friendly. There’s nothing friendly about the way he feels about you, but his stupid fucking mouth is too worried that making that fact known is only going to screw him over—that he’ll mess it up enough that not only is he not dating you, but now he’s not even your friend. 

Because… well. You’re you—all pretty hair and pretty lips and pretty smile and pretty skin and pretty personality. You’re soft when he’s brash and you’re brash when he’s soft and nothing ever feels balanced unless you’re the one balancing it. 

And now he’s lying here, on this thick, itchy blanket, just wondering when you’re finally going to have enough of him and his inability to just. To just kiss you, and let the rest of the world make sense. 

You eat, and you talk, and you make him laugh—you’re always making him laugh harder than he should. Anyone who watches probably thinks he’s a total fool, head over feet and half in-love with the same girl everyone else would be half in-love with. No joke in the history of the entire world has been funny enough to elicit the laugh you hear from him every time you crack one. 

He’s carefully slicing the cake when you swipe your finger through the white frosting, wiping the sugary substance off on the tip of his nose with a giggle. His head shoots up while you do it, catches your eyes and the completely human way they crinkle when you laugh, the way your lashes settle when you smile, and all he can think is that you just look so pretty.

You’re so pretty, and he doesn’t even have time to talk himself out of it, because he’s kissing you—quick, simple, like he was trying to shut you up. It’s a peck, nothing more, and certainly not the way he wanted to kiss you for the first time. He can’t believe he just managed to fuck up the first time he kissed you—that he definitely just made certain the first time was the last time. He’d strangle himself if he could.

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying before you can even process what just happened. “You just… I’m sorry.”

A smile pulls on your lips, and your cheeks ache from how much the muscles have been used this afternoon. “It’s okay,” you nod.

“You… there’s frosting on your nose,” he says, wiping the remnants of your swipe off his nose.

“I don’t care,” you say. “Kiss me like you mean it.”

His eyes shoot up before his head does, like he’s checking if you’re being serious or not. You are. You’re dead serious. The kind of quick peck a middle aged wife stuck in a miserable marriage gives to her middle aged husband will not be the first move you've been waiting three months for. If he’s going to kiss you with frosting on his nose, he better do it right. 

He makes up for it, though, when he wipes the frosting from your nose, licks it clean off his thumb and slots his hands on either side of your jaw, pulling you to him like he’s been waiting to do it for ninety days. When his lips finally meet yours, the rest of the park falls into the background. The sweetness of the frosting lingers, blending with the warmth of his lips. This is not a peck—this is a declaration, a revelation. 

“Better?” He says, his forehead warm against yours. 

You nod, smiling. “Much better,” and then you kiss him again like time might run out, even though you both know it won’t.

[lettersfromaphrodite]

[3.42]

― pairing : Yunho x Fem! Reader ― genre : fluff + smut ― content warnings: grease! au - therefore it's the 50's, Yunho smokes weed and has a motorbike, mentions of a car accident but it’s superficial and no one of the main characters is involved, thigh riding, unprotected sex, idk how to describe it?? acrobatic sex??? idk you’ll read it, kinkshaming will not be allowed, inspo for that came from an italian song' MV ― word count : 7.830

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

«I swear, if I hear that song another time, I’m gonna scream bloody murder.» you addressed your colleague with an annoyed groan as you both were busy cleaning one of the now empty tables of the Frosty Palace, the local diner where you worked. She sighed in silent agreement, both of you wondering why your boss decided to let customers choose what to play from the jukebox even during Saturday nights, when the diner was really busy and crowded with people.

«Here comes trouble,» she announced with an amused smile on her face, as she took the plates you were busy balancing on your forearm, before nodding towards a group of guys which just arrived, busy taking their seats. «they’re all yours.» she chanted, quickly leading back into the kitchen with an amused smile.

«That traitor.» you mumbled, before taking your small notebook from your apron’s pocket and taking a deep sigh. Of course you perfectly knew the loud group that just arrived, since you’ve had a crush on Seonghwa since you could remember. His dark and mysterious aura always charmed you, and you could not help but to grow interested in him. 

However, your mother’s advice not to get involved with bad guys always resonated in your head anytime you caught a glimpse of them and their leather jacket or motorbikes, and therefore, you’ve never tried to approach any of them beside work related matters. Their table was incredibly loud but also incredibly polite to you, and if you were to be honest, they probably were the best and most polite customers of the entire evening. Your only interaction with Seonghwa consisted of your eyes briefly meeting, before eventually, you went back to your previous working hurried pace. Low-key, you were glad that you couldn’t stay at their table for more than the essential time needed to take their orders, because you knew that you probably looked like a mess: you’ve been working for nine hours straight, your hair was a mess – even if tied up in a ponytail, and you were sure you had bags under your eyes due to how tired you were. You just wanted to go home and sleep.

«Are you coming to Jisung’s party?» your colleague – and friend, asked you, handing you a glass of water as you were both spending your first shift break leaning against the counter – few steps away from Seonghwa’s table. You quickly hummed, shaking your head while swallowing the water, silently wondering if that was how god’s nectar tasted like. 

«When is it? I’ll probably have to work.» you asked her, unaware that your small talk had caught the attention of both the boy you had a crush on and one of his friends’.

«Next Friday!» she enthusiastically said, her eyes glancing at the diner’s entrance door every now and then in order to check up if some new customers arrived, while yours kept glancing across the room, to see if anyone needed anything else. «Please, come with me! I promise I’ll cover your shifts anytime you want!» she quickly added, as if she managed to read in your mind the fact that you were once again about to say no. 

Perhaps, you agreed because you were extremely tired. Perhaps, you agreed because as your eyes were quickly scanning the room, you shortly locked your gaze with the boy with faded pink hair that was casually sitting next to Seonghwa, with his back leaned against the wall and his black leather jacket draped over his wide shoulders as he uninterestedly rolled a cigarette while occasionally glancing at you. 

«Don’t look at their table, but,» you lowered the tone of your voice, getting closer to your friend and pretending she had something in her hair. «who’s the one sitting next to Seonghwa?» «Yunho.» she immediately whispered back, without blinking or thinking about it. Then, with a surprised gasp, she simply stared at you with wide amused eyes and her mouth slightly open, the sudden action making you giggle. «I can’t believe you’re not asking about Seonghwa!» she whispered, and just like that, new customers arrived and both of you went immediately back to work.

Seonghwa and his friends left around midnight, and as you were cleaning their table, the bright green bill neatly placed under Yunho’s coaster caught your attention; your eyes widened slightly and you immediately looked around just in case it was a joke, but nothing seemed out of place. You folded the banknote, placing it in your apron’s pocket, and as you were collecting the dishes, you saw Seonghwa and his friends talking right outside the diner’s windows, illuminated by the street lamps.

Surprisingly enough, instead of focusing on Seonghwa, your eyes were curiously looking at Yunho, the tall boy that earlier was looking at you; he was quietly chuckling at something his friends said while casually sitting on top of his motorbike, the cigarette he previously rolled was carefully balanced between his lips as he looked for a lighter in his leather jacket’s right pocket. You felt strangely hypnotized by the small action of him lighting up his cigarette before blowing out a puff of smoke while his head was thrown back, but you quickly snapped out of it as soon as one of your colleagues called your name, asking for help.

The walk back home was quick and mostly made by inertia, due to how tired you were feeling; you mindlessly unlocked the door and closed it with a yawn, before taking off your shoes and collapsing on the couch – since your bed was too far away. «Come on,» you weakly encouraged yourself, trying to ignore the numb feeling of exhaustion spreading from your legs all the way to your body. «take a shower and then go to sleep.» you mumbled, «In five minutes…» you were about to drift off, when Yunho’s piercing gaze flashed behind your closed eyelids; your eyes snapped open, and you immediately reached in the back pocked of your jeans, taking out the 10 bucks tip.

A small smile unexpectedly made way on your lips, wondering if he left the tip because he saw you working your ass off or because he had other reasons to do so.  Funny how a banknote helped waking you up, but you placed it on the coffee table in front of your couch, and headed towards the shower. 

Of course, your colleague knew about your crush on Seonghwa and of course, she wouldn’t shut up about Yunho for the most part of the week. 

«I can’t blame you,» she said, cleaning the counter as you were about to close the diner. «He’s hot. And he seems so strong, I bet he can fuck you against-» your colleague’s – and friend, words were immediately stopped by your hand on her mouth, reducing the remaining of her sentence into an inaudible mess of muffled words. 

«Not a word, or I won’t come to the party.» you said, blushing about the intrusive thoughts that thanks to her, were now vivid and oh, so realistic in your head. 

«Are you a virgin?» she whispered, even if no one else beside the two of you were in there; you shook your head, explaining her that beside your first boyfriend in high school, you’ve never had any other experience, nor romantically, nor sexually. 

«I just completely focused on studying, and now here I am: the best waitress in town.» you joked with a sad smile, mentally going through all the future life plans you had which you eventually had to reconsider, and she immediately let go of the glass she was cleaning in order to walk towards you.

«Come on!» she cooed, «It’s the 50’s, love. Fall in love, live a little.» she smiled, her slim arms snaking around your waist. 

«It’s not like-» as you were about to retort that you weren’t that interested in romance since all you managed to have crushes on were obviously bad boys who carried a concerning amount of red flags everywhere they went, she was quick to silence you, once again.

«I bet we’re gonna have fun, trust me, I’m the expert here.» she winked at you, and you nodded with an amused, exasperated sigh.

Jisung’s party was chaotic, and you deduced that it couldn’t be otherwise since he was the most popular and richest kid in town; he spent the evening next to his girlfriend, and you wondered if you would ever be as lucky as her since, judging by Jisung’s looks, he seemed pretty much head over heels for her.

An elbow delicately nudging against yours quickly made you turn your attention back to your friend, which had her head tilted towards the backdoor and she was pointing towards it with her eyes; she looked quite funny, but as soon as you saw what she was desperately trying to point at, you felt your knees go weak.

Seonghwa was standing with his friends, looking as good as always but once again, you felt your eyes naturally drift towards Yunho’s figure, casually leaning against the wall with a red plastic cup probably filled with punch as he was talking with one of his friends – a little shorter with raven black hair. You honestly tried to prevent your eyes from scanning his body from his chest, to his long legs - which looked sinful in high waisted skinny jeans, and as your gazes met, you quickly looked away as quickly as a wild flame has just burnt you. You felt a blush creeping on your cheeks, your heart picking up speed in embarrassment by the fact that Yunho had basically caught you ogling at him, but also secretly turned on by the sudden smirk that he had plastered on his face.

From there, the night went by rather quickly. Surprisingly enough, you managed to have fun, even if it was probably thanks to the few cups of alcohol you drank during the night; you were tipsy – drunk enough to laugh about almost everything but sober enough to still stand without falling on your face, and so that’s how you found yourself in Jisung’s wide garden, sitting next to your friend, listening to two random boys blabbering and flirting with the two of you.

Despite the fact that you were sitting in front of your friend’s crush with the promise of somehow help her out, you never tried to hide the fact that you were absolutely uninterested in his friend’s obnoxious advances, and your eyes kept glancing at Yunho, which much to your shame, caught you the most of times.

Yunho was incredibly beautiful, and he absolutely had no reason to affect you like that; especially, he had absolutely no reason to look so hot as his lips closed on the filter of the joint that him and his friends were passing around. As they were laughing together, you figured that you probably would have wanted to try it, too.

«It’s your turn.» the boy in front of you said, and your eyes immediately fell on the joint that he was carefully handing to you, the filter pointed towards you and the smell of weed invading your nostrils. You politely shook your head, refusing the offer, aware that there was only one particular person that you wanted to try smoking weed with.

You knew Yunho was approaching you, even if you were not looking at him anymore. You could feel his gaze on you since the moment you excused yourself from the conversation you were having with your friend, and all you could feel was anticipation. If you were to be honest, you didn’t do it in order to get his attention – not entirely, but you really needed a break from hearing your friend and her crush flirting with each other and his friend obnoxiously trying his luck with you; so this is why you walked past Yunho and his friends heading to the backyard, where a significant less number of people were chatting.

With a sigh, you closed your eyes, your back and your head delicately pressed against the wall as you waited; you waited both for your incoming headache not to ruin the little party time you had left, and both for something – anything, to happen right before you had to go back home. Your silent wishes must have been heard from some kind of celestial entity, since few minutes later, Yunho was casually standing in front of you, one hand placed on the wall next to your head, and the other still holding what remained of the joint that him and his friends were previously smoking.

«You’re not very subtle at stealing glances.» Yunho smirked, and you felt your knees go weak since it was the first time you were hearing his voice, and you definitely didn’t expect for it to be so deep and melodic.

«Maybe I didn’t want to be.» you answered, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, and the alcohol mixed to the weed you breathed made you act a little bolder than you really were. Yunho’s smirk was all you could think about, the cologne he wore still managed to intoxicate your senses even if he was holding a joint between your bodies; everything you wanted was to kiss him, to feel his skin against yours even if deep down, you knew that boys like him inevitably lead to a heartbreak. Yunho looked like everything you were not, and at the same time, he looked like everything you wanted.

«So, angel face,» Yunho said, his voice a little bit deeper than before, he slowly raised the joint’s filter few centimetres in front of your lips, while his eyes hungrily and repeatedly glanced from your eyes to your lips, «do you want to try this,» he added, nodding to the joint before leaning a bit closer, so that your noses were almost touching and you could feel his soft breath against your skin as he spoke, «or do you want to try me?» your breath hitched at that final question and Yunho probably noticed but, being the gentleman he actually is, he settled for not saying anything and just wait for your answer, a smug smirk plastered on his lips as he made you feel almost naked under his gaze; you had to restrain yourself in order not to grab his leather jacket and close the small distance between you, and you wondered what was wrong with you.

“Am I really that drunk or am I just incredibly horny?” you thought, licking your lips and feeling almost suffocated by the tension that was surrounding both your bodies as the two of you were in your own small bubble.

«Mommy said boys like you are bad news.» you answered with a quiet mumble, knowing he would have heard nonetheless, thanks to the almost non-existent space between you.

«Oh, really?» Yunho cooed, tilting his head, action that you slightly mirrored in the opposite direction while waiting – hoping, for him to kiss you. «Why don’t you find out if that’s the truth?»  you were about to kiss him, you desperately wanted to kiss him, to feel his lips against yours and for him to completely push you against the wall while making out and feel his body pressed flush against yours but of course, your friend had to unintentionally ruin the moment by calling for you, but despite your name being called, neither you nor Yunho looked away.

Yunho grabbed your chin in his hand in a gentle but firm action, the filter of the cigarette pressing against your cheek, and you swore your heart was about to climb its way out of your body as Yunho hinted the action of bringing your face closer to his, but eventually stopped as your lips were few millimetres apart.

«Feel free to come looking for me, when you have an answer.» he mumbled, and you were sure that your lips brushed against each other few times, the faint sensation lingering on your lips from the same moment when Yunho detached himself from you, winking at you while taking a step back and innocently smiling as if he wasn’t about to kiss you in the backyard of Han Jisung’s mansion during one of his parties. You walked towards your friend with a hammering heart, and occasionally touching your lips in order to quench the lust you were feeling; you spent your way back home wondering if you could get drunk on another person’s cologne, because all your senses were focused on the feeling of throbbing desire you felt towards Yunho.

Despite your efforts of avoiding thinking about the party and completely focus on work, you still found your thoughts wildly wandering towards that night every time you had a break. Although your friend kept encouraging you to go talk to him, you always said no, hiding yourself behind the most stupid excuses, hinting that obviously, someone like Yunho could never like - let alone desire, someone like you.

«I’m too inexperienced for him.» you told your friend, which simply scoffed, looking at you like you just randomly grew another head.

«I don’t even know where to start in order to explain how dumb that statement is.» she muttered, going back into the kitchen while she kept mumbling other unintelligible things.

The diner’s entrance bells rang loudly, echoing in the almost empty room on a Wednesday night, and you shortly panicked as soon as you recognized Yunho casually walking towards the counter. It was the first time you’ve seen him since the party, and you didn’t know both how to react and how to greet him; did you have to pretend nothing happened?

«Hi, angel.» Yunho’s endearing smile most definitely caused your heart to skip a beat, and you timidly greeted him back with a smile.

«Are you by yourself, tonight?» you dared to ask, in the attempt of making a small conversation as you were busy preparing his coffee while he sat directly behind you on one of the red leather stools in front of the counter.

«I am. Were you waiting for someone else?» even if you weren’t looking at him, you could hear the smug grin that was dancing on his lips; you immediately shook your head, your eyes locked on the coffee machine in front of you, and you heard Yunho hum, as if he was pleased with your answer.

Contrarily to your expectations, you and Yunho fell into a peaceful and relaxing small talk, and he also listened to you blabbering about how rude and unkind customers have been lately without complaining about you talking too much. Even if he had finished his coffee long ago, he settled for keeping the conversation going, finding you insanely entertaining and attractive to just walk away.

Gradually, you loosened yourself a bit, thanks to Yunho’s natural kindness and his way of talking which made you feel at ease; you slightly leaned on the counter while talking, as Yunho rolled a cigarette in the desperate attempt to keep his mind busy and prevent intrusive thoughts about all the ways he wanted to ruin you from popping up in his mind and suggest things you both might have regretted. As much as you thought that Yunho was a charming and interesting boy, he thought the same about you and so, for the first time in his life, he settled for making things right, following your pace.

«I guess you’re on closing shift,» Yunho said, licking along a stripe that would seal his cigarette, and you nodded as you were busy following the action. «Are you walking home by yourself?» «No, I’m-» «Yes! She is!» your friend immediately chimed in, and you suddenly remembered that you were not alone with Yunho, and she probably had to stand there and suffer from second hand embarrassment since who knows when. Yunho clearly understood that your friend cancelled on you last minute in order to leave the two of you alone and quietly chuckled at your small interaction, the cigarette he had previously rolled now placed behind his left ear. «I can walk you home, if you want.» he said, his gaze never faltering from yours.

Few hours later, you were both sitting on a bench at the now deserted skater park, the full moon watching over you as a pleasing spring breeze occasionally dishevelled both your hair.

«I still have to thank you for the tip you left me.» you said, focusing your attention on your hands, and Yunho simply shrugged.

Of course, the both of you engaged a conversation composed by the most infinite number of topics and of course, you ended up asking him about smoking and Yunho simply looked back at you, rising an eyebrow in surprise by the fact that the request escaped your lips out of nowhere, but also secretly pleased with the fact that you were not acting as if nothing happened few days earlier.

Yunho patiently taught you how to smoke without feeling like you were suffocating, occasionally rubbing your back as he waited for you to stop coughing.

«I can’t die like this, not before I get my monthly salary.» you cleared your voice, wiping the lone tear that escaped your eyes, and Yunho chuckled, his hand moving your hair from your face, so that now your neck was completely exposed to him, like a white canvas that he couldn’t wait to draw on. In order to stop coughing, you tried to focus about the fact that at this point, you and Yunho indirectly kissed through the filter of the cigarette, but it never really helped you, leaving you a bit flustered than you were before.

Somehow, you managed to learn the trick, and as you felt your body relaxing, you also felt becoming incredibly giggly; you knew that you were stupidly giggling at some jokes Yunho said while looking at him with rosy cheeks and a wide smile, but you couldn’t help yourself.

A large quantitative of praises towards Yunho were about to escape your lips but you managed to stop yourself just in time, losing yourself in the boy’s magnetic gaze which made you want more, aware that you wouldn’t even be able to quantify how much was that.

Once again, the thought about boys like him ending up breaking your heart popped up in your mind, but you ignored it.

“It’s the 50’s, love. Fall in love, live a little,” your friend had said, and you decided that, at least for tonight, you could have ignored the part of you which was always and only thinking about work.

Only when the bell tower signalled it was almost three in the morning, Yunho decided it was probably time to go back home.

«But we were having fun!» you whined, taking Yunho’s outstretched hand, which both helped you standing up but also pulled you flush against his body in a swift movement.

«Now,» Yunho smiled, and you had to beg your brain in order to stop the instinct that wanted for you to nuzzle against his chest and breathe in his alluring scent. «but you’re gonna hate me tomorrow, if you don’t get enough sleep.» even if you whined once again, you agreed with him and you both started to walk towards your apartment’s direction.

«Yes!» you giggled, quickly walking towards Yunho’s motorbike. «We’re gonna ride it?» you asked him, stopping next to his bike in order to tilt your head to look at him. Yunho thought that there was no way someone could look so cute after smoking weed for an hour, but yet, there you were, looking at him like you were the most innocent girl on the planet.

«No, angel face.» he said, affectionately ruffling your hair and making you pout. «I don’t have a spare helmet.»

«Next time?» you immediately asked, lifting your pinky finger in the air in an instinctive manner, and the hand which was furrowing your hair a moment earlier, was now lifting your chin while Yunho’s face came dangerously closer to yours.

«Are you sure that’s the only thing you’re gonna ride?» Yunho’s words seemed to spark the fuel that was smeared on your soul, since you were sure that the blush covering your cheeks could be seen from space. As you embarrassedly stuttered while coming up with an answer, Yunho laughed loudly – the sound making your heart do somersaults in your chest, while his long pinky finger gently intertwined with yours, sealing your promise. The both of you managed to arrive at your apartment while you kept giggling about the most random things, occasionally pouting about the fact that Yunho had been smoking too, but he completely seemed unaffected by it.

«Experience.» he simply answered as you unlocked your apartment’s door, immediately turning on the lights and heading for the couch while loudly calling for him to get in as well. Yunho followed you into your small living room, and sighed loudly at the sight of you laying down on the couch, with your arms thrown over your head while the shirt you were wearing was now showing part of your stomach.  

«Yunho.» you called for him in a serious voice, quickly sitting up and waiting for him to crouch down between your legs while sitting on the coffee table. You quickly shook your head as he asked you if you weren’t feeling okay while he carefully brushed  your hair out of your face, and you quietly gripped his jacket, looking at him in the eyes with the most serious expression you could muster. Yunho tilted his head, confused but your action but also intrigued about what you had up in your sleeve, when you definitely managed to surprise him another time.

«I’m so hungry.» you whispered as you were confessing a sin, and Yunho had to cover his mouth with his hand not to laugh too loudly. «But it’s almost four in the morning.»

«What do you want to eat?» Yunho asked back in a whisper, playing along, as if he was implying that your secrets were safe with him.

«I want a cheeseburger,» you smiled, counting on your fingers as you started to list a concerning amount of junk food, «and then, milk and cereal, and then…» Yunho let you finish while looking at you with an incredulous smile, before meticulously asking if you had any cereal in your house.

Less than five minutes later, you were happily munching to your night snack, trying to quench your chemical hunger. You didn’t expect for weed to have such a disastrous effect on you, but you managed to drift off – only after successfully feeding Yunho a couple of times, and eventually, hecarried you to your bedroom and left, not sure whether you’d like to see him first thing in the morning.

Later that night, you woke up with a headache and a bitter taste in your mouth; the fact that you were still wearing yesterday’s clothes was the proof that you did not have a fever dream and last night really happened. Your cheeks flared up in embarrassment, and you rubbed your temples before making up your mind and heading towards the kitchen  to drink some water and have some breakfast.

“I made a fool out of myself,” you thought, completely sure that you’ve blown off all the chances you had to get to know him better, “He’ll never want to see me again.” As you mindlessly grabbed a bowl from your cupboard, you noticed a small yellow paper neatly placed on your kitchen table.

“Hope you slept well, call me.” the paper said, and unexpectedly, there was Yunho’s phone number.

The note with Yunho’s number written on it was carefully taped on your fridge, but you still didn’t call him; four days quickly went by, and you still couldn’t find enough courage to dial his phone number and talk to him. At this point, you had the sensation that, in the back of your mind, the small yellow paper started to lighten up anytime you walked in front of it, only to become more evident and making you feel even guiltier. 

Yunho didn’t show up at the diner, and you took it as his personal way of letting you know that he was respecting your pace, a thing you were glad for.

An almost deafening noise of tires braking on the asphalt and a sudden crash noise made you immediately wake up clutching your chest in fear, sitting up straight in your bed as you tried to understand what just happened. Your heart was hammering in your chest due to the sudden fright, and you scanned the dark room in the desperate attempt to individuate any other noises which could help you identify what happened; as you walked to your bedroom’s window, you also heard the sound of multiple sirens approaching, and your eyes locked with the two cars that crashed against each other almost in front of your condominium. Both the police and an ambulance were quick to show up and take one of the two man back to the hospital, but even if the situation had calmed down and only the police remained with the other man to investigate the dynamics of the car crash, you couldn’t bring yourself to calm down. Work had been particularly busy those days, and the fact that you were stressed was undeniable.  

Perhaps, you were too zoned out to realize what you were doing; perhaps, your brain acknowledged the fact that in that moment, there was only one voice that you wanted to hear in order to feel better.

Therefore, you turned on the lights of your apartment all the way to the kitchen in order to collect that yellow post-it and listen to your brain which, at the moment, was suggesting to do the best thing.

«Hello?» Yunho's raspy voice mumbled from the other line; for a split second, you wondered how cute he looked with his hair messy and pointing in every direction due to sleep.

«Hey.» you mumbled, your voice a little more unstable than you originally planned, wondering if he would have been able to recognize you, and wondering if he would have got angry at you, since you were basically calling him in the middle of the night.

As your eyes glanced to the clock nailed to the wall right on top of your landline, you mentally cursed yourself, since it was literally 3.42 in the morning.

«Hey, angel.» Yunho mumbled again, the sound now a little muffled since he was probably rubbing the palm of his hand on his face in order to somehow get rid of all remaining traces of sleep. «Did anything happen?»

Although you wanted to tell him the truth, that you were okay but a car crash woke you up and you just wanted to hear his voice, you didn't; you spent few more seconds in silence, wondering how could you phrase all the waves of emotions you were feeling.

«Can you come over?» you finally whispered, aware that for sure he didn't manage to hear you, for your voice was almost inaudible; you quickly cleared your voice, ready to repeat your sentence a little louder when Yunho's voice made you close your mouth once again.

«Okay,» you heard him sigh, «I'll be there.» Yunho hung up and still, you stood there, listening to the robotic and redundant sound of the other line being hung up, while staring at the wall as if it was the most entertaining thing ever.

Yunho arrived more or less twenty minutes after your call, the loud rumble of his motorbike announcing his arrival. «I don't know why, but they're not letting anyone in, unless they live here,» Yunho's groggy voice greeted you as he closed the front door behind himself. «If the police officers come and ask, we're living together.» As if you were in autopilot, you quickly walked towards him, snaking your arms around his waist and trying to calm yourself down with his presence. You knew you were acting like an idiot for being scared like that but you couldn't help yourself, the pent up stress made you overreact and you were glad that Yunho still decided to show up after you basically ghosted him because you decided to shy up and act like a coward.

«Come on, let's go back to sleep.» Yunho was taller than you, therefore he easily towered over your frame and so, as he gently hugged you close to his body while placing his chin on the top of your hand, you felt safe.

It was funny how you were standing in your apartment in the middle of the night, clinging to the stereotypical boy your mom always warned you about, as if he was the only way you had to feel better. Inexplicably, Yunho's strong arms made you feel like you wanted to build a home in there; like those wooden houses built on trees some little kids had, where they hid when they wanted to have their personal space and live safely in their own world for some time.

Secretly, you wished you could stop time in order to live this moment for eternity, but deep down, you couldn't help but wish for these moments to become your new, daily routine.

Obviously, you didn't know yet, but Yunho wanted pretty much the same as you did. In his eyes, in that very moment, you looked so small and helpless that he felt the desire of protecting you from everything.

Yunho hanged his leather jacket before the two of you eventually ended up cuddling on your bed, facing each other while laying on your sides; Yunho's right leg was slightly between yours while your left leg was resting over his thigh, your naked skin pressed against the rough fabric of Yunho's denim jeans while his fingertips gently caressed the expanse of your exposed thigh.

Before he arrived, you wondered if the perspective of sleeping with a boy while being so underdressed – a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, was the right choice but you didn't really want to change your pyjamas. Now, Yunho's warm hands made you want to completely feel his natural warm skin against yours.

«Thank you.» you whispered some time later, a faint and tranquil murmur into the comfortable silence you were sharing.

«It's okay, angel.» Yunho sighed, holding you a little closer to his chest. «Anytime you need me, you holler, and I'll appear.» his words were nothing but sweet, and of course, you believed him.

«Don't go away this time.» you mumbled right against Yunho's collarbone, your breath ticking the skin that the wide collar of his shirt exposed. Yunho's answer came in the form of kissing your forehead, and you slowly drifted off to sleep, lulled by the other's slow rhythmic breathing and the feeling of his warm body enveloping yours.

The sound of your alarm woke up the both of you in the middle of the morning. Yunho – now almost completely laying under you, groaned in protest before effortlessly turning the both of you around in a swift and quick movement.

«Five more minutes.» he whined, his voice unexpectedly deep and hoarse. As much as you wanted to chuckle since that action was incredibly cute, you stayed there, almost petrified, as Yunho was now laying with his head on your chest and his legs between yours; he manhandled you so easily you had to close your eyes in order not to give in to the sensation of the heat that was pooling into your panties and consequently to the thought of searching for relief on his firm thigh.

«Why is your heart beating so fast?» Yunho asked, rubbing his eyes as he propped himself on his elbow, now almost completely awake. If you thought that Yunho looked handsome on a daily basis, now you were completely sure that he just earned the status of "breathtaking": his lips were plump and rosy because of sleep, and his cheeks were painted by a faint blush, his hair were dishevelled and looked pretty much untameable. You were used to seeing him surrounded by the "bad boy" aura, you'd never expect to find him so cute you'd want to squish his cheeks.

«Do I make you nervous?» he asked, a mischievous grin on his lips as his cheek was now placed on the palm of his hand while he kept hovering above you. «Well, yes.» you admitted, your glance quickly drifting away from his. «You're... you.» at this point, not only you lost all the ability to think properly, but you were also sure that Yunho thought you were completely dumb.

However, he simply hummed, his long fingertips hovering above your lips which naturally parted; as you unconsciously licked your lips, the fact that Yunho was following the action didn't go unnoticed.

«You'd probably want to be careful, angel.» Yunho's voice made you imperceptibly close your legs around his thigh. «Just because I like you doesn't mean you should try your luck.» his fingers were now under your chin, the feeling of the cold ring he wore on his index finger making your head spin with different scenarios which ended up in the same sinful way. «Otherwise, I won't hold back.» Yunho's words were all it took for you to tangle your hand in the front of his shirt; you weren't pulling him closer nor away from you, you just needed another conformation that this was happening for real. Yunho just admitted he liked you, feeling which definitely was reciprocated; anticipation was clouding your senses, and Yunho prevented you from daydreaming any further by purposely tensing up the muscle of his thigh just to tease you, but it simply ended up in you trying to suppress a needy whine.

«Then don't.» your voice trembled as your eyes locked with his, happy and relieved about the fact that the lust and the passion you found there were matching yours.

«Remember, angel,» Yunho shook his head with an amused grin. «That you asked for it.» you didn't have time to question his words, since his lips immediately found yours in a needy, passionate kiss. You completely submitted to him; you didn't dare to try and take control, you didn't want to. All you wanted to do was to lose yourself on the feeling of Yunho's lips moulding with yours, his teeth nibbling your lower lip and his tongue moving with yours in a messy and passionate pace. You felt the mattress dip under his knee as he balanced his weight on his arms, action which made his thigh press a little more roughly against your heat; instinctively, you groaned, arching your back in the desperate attempt to press yourself even more against the rough fabric of his denim jeans.

That action wasn't nor casual, nor innocent, and you felt Yunho's smug smile against your lips, before he leaned down to kiss your jaw and eventually, leave a trail of kisses for as much as the collar of your shirt allowed. Your mind has already flown on cloud nine long ago; during these years you never really missed sexual contact nor you ever felt the need for a relationship but there was something unexplainable about Yunho's touch that made you feel like you wanted to make up for all the time you lost. And of course, you wanted to do it with him.

«Yunho,» your voice was somewhere in-between from a whine and a surprised squeal as his right hand roughly pulled your waist upwards and towards him; he simply hummed, lost in the feeling of enjoying all the reactions your sensitive body had.

Despite you were most definitely loving how good Yunho was making you feel, you felt the desire of making him feel good as well and so, your fingers gradually loosened from the grip they had on Yunho's hair and gradually lowered until the palm of your hand was completely placed on his half hard length. A wave of pride washed over you as he instinctively jerked his hips forward in your hand, burying for a moment his head in the crook of your neck with a loud groan – which worked wonders for the situation in your now completely wet panties.

«You'll have plenty of time to make me feel good,» Yunho eventually swatted your hand away, pinning it against the mattress. «Today is about you.» he added, proving his point by digging his knee against the mattress so that the friction between your legs would increase. Yunho's sentence somehow boosted your confidence and if his right hand were guiding the movement of your hips for a brief fraction of time, now it settled for hoisting your thigh a little higher, his nails sinking in your soft skin as you grinded against his thigh while your lips were occasionally moulding against each other. Your shorts now completely exposed your inner thighs and the sensation of the rough fabric of Yunho's jeans made your skin almost feel sore, but anytime he tensed the muscle of his thigh, you stopped thinking about it, since the sensation of your orgasm building up thanks to someone else and not your own fingers were all you could focus on.

Yunho, on the other hand, was focusing as much as he could in order not to come at the sight of you falling apart so rapidly under him and because of him. It would have been embarrassing for him to come untouched, but the way you were repeatedly whining against his lips while frantically gripping at his shirt or his hair just to anchor yourself at something made him want you even more.

Yunho's thoughts got interrupted by a sinful loud moan escaping your lips and your body tensing up before relaxing once again, collapsing on the bed with your eyes closed while you were trying to focus on slowing down your breath. As you came, your thighs squeezed Yunho's in a brief but tight hold, brushing against his length in the process, and Yunho was sure that precome was now staining his boxers.

Feeling your heart hammering in your chest for two completely different reasons, you reached out to peck Yunho's lips in a silent and affectionate “thank you”, and he smiled before repeating the gesture. «Are you sure you-» «Yes,» Yunho answered with a small nod. «I could use the bathroom, and then we could cook breakfast?» Yunho somehow answered in a questioning tone, unsure whether you wanted to spend more time with him. You simply nodded, checking the watch on your nightstand before giggling. «More like lunch.» «Brunch?» Yunho answered as, following your gaze, noticed what time it was.

«Just so you know,» Yunho casually addressed you, pointing at you with his index finger as he was still holding his glass of water. «I bought a spare helmet, so I might just let you ride with me.» You nodded, eagerly, happy that Yunho wasn't backing down on the pinky promise you made.

Few days later, you told everything to your friend, which had to stop drinking because she was somehow managing to squeal while doing so. «Yunho has never let anyone ride his bike,» she said in an excited voice, «not even his friends.»

Not only Yunho took you on an insane amount of dates but also, every time his work shifts allowed him to, he'd pick you up from work because he didn't want to let you walk back by yourself. Spending your free days together had become a habit and so, three months later, there was a little corner in your wardrobe only for Yunho's spare clothes. Yunho managed to make you feel the happiest girl in the world, to make you feel desired and loved, and the night Yunho confessed you that his feelings were the same as yours, you felt do happy you swore you could become the sun of a whole new solar system.

Yunho also confirmed your friend’s words: you were indeed the first one he ever let on his bike, and you both loved this privilege but most importantly, you loved to cling to his back to your heart’s contents and enjoyed the little forms of affections he still managed to show. Anytime you were waiting for the traffic lights to turn green once again, he’d mindlessly caress your leg, all the way from your ankle to your thigh; sometimes he’d just trace with his thumb over the top of your hands which were intertwined on his abdomen.

You never thought – probably not even in your wildest fantasies, that one day, you’d be sitting right in front of Yunho on top of his Harley Davidson – your back pressed against the fuel tank and your legs around his waist, as his length rhythmically disappeared inside you.  Obviously, you never suspected he could hide some kinky meaning behind the sentence: “probably you’d be more comfortable wearing a skirt”, but still, there you were, trusting Yunho and letting him fuck you on top of his motorbike while both your helmets were safely placed on the floor and you had the perfect view of the sun setting in the sky due to being on a non particularly popular hill and therefore, completely alone.

«What if someone sees us?» you whined, the sensation of Yunho filling you up so perfectly and roughly – even if his pace was slow and teasing, momentarily clouding your senses and making you think that you probably wouldn’t have actually cared, not when you were so close to your release and Yunho looked like Apollo himself as the lights of the setting sun were dancing behind his back.

«Why, would you care?» Yunho asked back with a groan, a smug smile on his lips and his hands tightly gripping your waist under your high-waisted skirt; the chuckle you wanted to answer with died in your throat as he changed pace in the same moment you decided to sit up a little bit straighter, holding his shoulders to balance yourself. It was undoubtedly messy, and the fact that Yunho was strong enough to effortlessly fuck you in those circumstances made the warm sensation of an approaching orgasm pool even faster in your lower stomach. 

Both you and Yunho managed to almost come together, between breathless chuckles – due to the fact that you were more than willing to try new things as long as you were together, strained moans and passionate kisses. 

«My legs are numb.» you breathed, leaning once again your back on the fuel tank as Yunho was looking at you as you were a work of art, «I can’t get down.» you added, smiling before randomly erupting into a series of giggles, toying with the sleeves of Yunho’s leather jacket. 

«That’s my favourite thing to hear, angel.» Yunho smiled at you with a mischievous wink as he was gently running his fingertips on the expanse of your thighs.

Yunho loved how willing you were to be bad for him, just as much as you loved how willing he was to be good for you.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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[severus-snaps]

'Mudblood' and Muggle-borns

back again with some late-to-the-party observations that I want to talk about (ah, the perils of becoming obsessed with snape in 2024)

So, I think by now that most people are aware of this tweet and/or the idea that it wasn't just Muggle-borns, but half-bloods as well, who were called 'Mudbloods' by blood supremacists:

And I don't know about anyone else, but I took this with a grain of salt because JKR is known to... make statements sometimes, some more realistic within her own canon than others.

I know that some people (on Quora especially, but probably elsewhere) outright claim that JKR said this to make Snape's use of 'Mudblood' in SWM 'more acceptable' or less bad or something because the term applied to him, too, and not just Muggle-borns - and literally until today, I thought the same. Now don't get me wrong, I love Snape and will usually jump at any chance to make his backstory and characterisation more complicated and sympathetic. I felt almost that JK was sort of... backtracking, because in the series we only see people use 'Mudblood' against Muggle-borns, with Hermione and Draco the most frequently seen Muggle-born and blood supremacist (respectively) in the series.

So I've rounded up a few examples where Mudblood is arguably used against people who are not Muggle-born.

We're first introduced to the term "Mudblood" in CoS:

The smug look on Malfoy’s face flickered. “No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,” he spat.

Ron describes the term shortly afterwards as follows:

"Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born — you know, non-magic parents"

And that is how we see Draco use it most often, to refer to Muggle-borns (most notably Hermione). But it has been used on others who are probably not Muggleborn.

Exhibit A: Bob Ogden

Over to Potter-Search I go, searching 'Mudblood' - only to find someone called Bob Ogden. Now, having not read the later books in quite some time I had no idea initially who Bob Ogden was, so I head over to the wiki page. For those of you like me who haven't read the later books in a while, Ogden appeared in one of Dumbledore and Harry's trips into the Pensieve:

Bob Ogden (fl. 1925) was a British wizard who worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a department of the Ministry of Magic, and led the Magical Law Enforcement Squad in the 1920s. As part of his duties, he once visited the Gaunt Shack, as the Department believed that Morfin Gaunt had not only performed magic in front of a Muggle but also accosted that Muggle, Tom Riddle Snr, and performed a dark charm on him.

Marvolo Gaunt, Morfin's father, asks him this:

“Are you pure-blood?” [Gaunt] asked, suddenly aggressive. “That’s neither here nor there,” said Ogden coldly, and Harry felt his respect for Ogden rise. Apparently Gaunt felt rather differently. He squinted into Ogden’s face and muttered, in what was clearly supposed to be an offensive tone, “Now I come to think about it, I’ve seen noses like yours down in the village.” “I don’t doubt it, if your son’s been let loose on them,” said Ogden.

Harry I think interprets this interaction as a Pureblood/Half-Blood Ogden rejecting Pureblood/blood supremacist ideology. Personally, I'm more inclined to think he's being cagey because he has definite Muggle ancestry, but we just don't know. I suppose it doesn't really matter. And then:

“So!” said Gaunt triumphantly, as though he had just proved a complicated point beyond all possible dispute. “Don’t you go talking to us as if we’re dirt on your shoes! Generations of purebloods, wizards all — more than you can say, I don’t doubt!” ... “Mr. Gaunt,” said Ogden doggedly, “I am afraid that neither your ancestors nor mine have anything to do with the matter in hand. I am here because of Morfin, Morfin and the Muggle he accosted late last night.

And finally:

“And you think we’re scum, do you?” screamed Gaunt, advancing on Ogden now, with a dirty yellow-nailed finger pointing at his chest. “Scum who’ll come running when the Ministry tells ’em to? Do you know who you’re talking to, you filthy little Mudblood, do you?” “I was under the impression that I was speaking to Mr. Gaunt,” said Ogden, looking wary, but standing his ground.

On the Wiki page, under Ogden's blood status, I find this interesting note:

In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Chapter 10 (The House of Gaunt) Ogden is shown wearing "the strange assortment of clothes so often chosen by inexperienced wizards trying to look like Muggles," which indicates that he was not Muggle-born, as a Muggle-born would have at least some experience with putting together a Muggle outfit.

The outfit in question was described as a "frock coat and spats over a striped one-piece bathing costume". I know shit all about clothes, so I had to google a frock coat, and here's some examples (conveniently also featuring spats on the feet in the first image); and also a one-piece bathing suit (vintage, since it was the 1920s and I'm assuming a men's):

[Images from Lily Absinthe, State Library of Victoria and vintag.es]

What a look. Deliberate in its farcicality. So... no, even the most out-of-touch Muggleborn in the 1920s probably wouldn't put that together in combination, because even assuming he was like 100 or something (seeing as he died at some stage before the events of HBP), I don't think a Muggleborn with two Muggle parents could've been that out of the loop on Muggle clothing to confuse swimwear for casual daywear.

Ogden is, obviously then, of magical enough heritage not to have any idea how to dress like a Muggle. And yet here he was, in my 'Mudblood' search. Admittedly, that might only be a generation or so removed; Tonks is also clearly clueless:

“Very clean, aren’t they, these Muggles?” said the witch called Tonks, who was looking around the kitchen with great interest. “My dad’s Muggle-born and he’s a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just like with wizards?”

Marvolo's comment about Ogden's nose also can be taken several ways; a jab/joke about the pus nose curse that Ogden's just had put on him by Morfin, or a real, thinly veiled accusation of Ogden having Muggle heritage (possibly the same as those in the surrounding villages). For his own safety, if Ogden was indeed Pureblood, he probably should've said so (for all the good it might have done him).

At any rate, Ogden obviously, whatever his family history, is 'wizard' enough to not know how to blend with Muggles - he's definitely not Muggleborn himself. If he did have Muggle heritage, which makes him a dubiously-named half-blood (dubious in that "half-blood" more or less refers to anyone who isn't 'Pureblood' or 'Muggleborn' rather than indicating a half-and-half split), it's likely to have been a grandparent or something, if not further removed (do we see Tonks struggle to wear Muggle clothes? I can't remember. I vaguely remember McGonagall wearing a Muggle dress, and she's supposed to be half-blood - but she's not described as looking odd for what she's wearing but I got more of the impression that Harry found it odd to see her out of the ususal robes she wears at Hogwarts).

Anyway, the real point of it is that it doesn't matter how magical Ogden is, because he is marked out as not Muggle-born by his clothes, and yet he still gets called a Mudblood. Gaunt wasn't necessarily suggesting Ogden's parents hadn't been a witch and a wizard, but that overall he had a bit more Muggle in him than a wizard should have (which, according to Gaunt, is none).

It's worth noting that the Gaunts were a family "noted for a vein of instability", possibly as a result of consistently marrying their cousins, so perhaps only their view on 'Mudblood' is anyone who isn't a Pureblood. And, of course, they are the proud, cousin-marrying descendents of Salazar Slytherin, who "started all this pure-blood stuff", and so were likely especially zealous about who 'counted' as Pure:

"They [Hogwarts founders] built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution." (Binns, CoS) "Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy." (Binns, CoS)

Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those Whose ancestry is purest." (Sorting Hat, OotP)

In any case, this is the strongest example of a dedicated blood supremacist calling someone with any suspected (real or otherwise) Muggle heritage a Mudblood.

Exhibit B: Walburga Black

Walburga Black was Sirius Black's mother, a proud pureblood supremacist, and she thought that Voldemort had the 'right idea' about things. Her portrait at Grimmauld Place calls the inhabitants of her house "filth" "creatures of dirt*", "scum", "stains of dishonour", and "mudbloods".

"MUDBLOODS! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT*!" “Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers — ” "Mudbloods, filth, stains of dishonor, taint of shame on the house of my fathers!"

* Creatures of dirt is apparently another word/turn of phrase for Mudblood, according to the wiki.

Obviously the portrait is screaming and overexcited, and not especially prone to nuance, but it does seem to be calling multiple people in the house Mudbloods - when, in theory, only Hermione would fit that description. Walburga is also capable of distinguishing between different people and offering specific insults, such as to Sirius:

“Yoooou!” she howled, her eyes popping at the sight of the man. “Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!”

Andromeda Tonks (nee Black) was blasted off of the Black family tapestry by Walburga for marrying a Muggleborn:

[Sirius] pointed to another small round burn mark between two names, Bellatrix and Narcissa. “Andromeda’s sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks, so — ” Sirius mimed blasting the tapestry with a wand and laughed sourly.

I expect having an actual Muggle in the family (aka an actual half-and-half Half-Blood) would've been seen as just as bad, if not worse, than marrying a Muggleborn to dedicated blood purists.

But in any case, with an Order primarily made up of Pureblood blood traitors (e.g. Weasleys, Sirius, Moody) and Half-Bloods (generally consisting of at least two magical parents like Harry, Tonks, and Dumbledore), and one Muggleborn (Hermione), Walburga just calls them all Mudbloods.

I'm also curious, as Hagrid wasn't there at 12 Grimmauld Place and a werewolf isn't technically a half-breed (but is sometimes conceptualised as such e.g. by Umbridge and her ilk), whether Walburga calls half-bloods "half-breeds", or whether she was yelling more generally at Lupin. Perhaps Muggles are "a different creature" in her eyes. We know that this line of thinking isn't uncommon:

"We’ve all got to listen to [whichever DE was in charge of Muggle Studies in DH] explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty..." (Neville, DH)

Exhibit C: Penelope Clearwater

Examples start to get a bit more sparse and interpretive from here on out.

In Chamber of Secrets, Voldemort describes the people petrified as Mudbloods:

“Haven’t you guessed yet, Harry Potter?” said Riddle softly. “Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib’s cat.”

The "four Mudbloods" in question were:

Colin Creevy

Justin Finch-Fletchley (with Nearly-Headless Nick as collatoral damage)

Hermione Granger, and

Penelope Clearwater

But we're not certain that they're all Muggleborn. In CoS, Justin is confirmed; he was headed to Eton and was waiting for Harry (the supposed Heir of Slytherin) to attack him in CoS for being Muggleborn. Colin is confirmed; "I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad’s a milkman...", and Hermione is obvious.

And then there's Penelope. Unlike the other confirmed Muggle-borns, we don't hear much about her, apart from the fact that she's Percy's girlfriend and probably likes Quidditch; but Hermione uses her as her 'cover' when the Trio gets caught by Snatchers in Deathly Hallows:

“Penelope Clearwater,” said Hermione. She sounded terrified, but convincing. “What’s your blood status?” “Half-blood,” said Hermione.

And the note about it on the Wiki says:

However, it is possible that the fourth Muggle-born in addition to Colin, Hermione, and Justin (who are all definitively identified as Muggle-borns at some point) was Nearly-Headless Nick, and that Penelope was simply petrified because she was with Hermione when she encountered the Basilisk. In Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Chapter 23 (Malfoy Manor), Hermione posed as Penelope when under interrogation by Snatchers, and claimed to be half-blood. Although, Hermione may have only lied about Penelope's blood status because mentioning she's Muggle-born would have possibly made things worse.

To me it seems unlikely that Voldemort would set the Basilisk on a ghost. It also seems unlikely that, after Harry has offered up "Vernon Dudley" as his name (more on that in a moment), and Ron has called himself first Stan Shunpike and then Barney Weasley, that Hermione would choose someone who she knew wasn't going to be a safe bet. Snatchers are "gangs trying to earn gold by rounding up Muggle-borns and blood traitors", so why offer a name that's likely to be on their list of Muggle-borns? It's also possible that it was just the first name she thought of, then lied about the blood status; but given that Hermione and Penelope would have woken up in the hospital wing together at the end of the events of CoS, it may well have come up in discussion.

And then there's this:

“You checked their names on the list yet, Scabior?” he roared. “Yeah. There’s no Vernon Dudley on ���ere, Greyback.”

So, the list is being checked by the Snatchers to see if the 'disguised' Trio are "wanted" - aka if they are Muggleborns/blood traitors/truants. I doubt they even checked Ron's name since the Weasleys are well-known blood traitors, but they picked up on Vernon Dudley not being a real name, and their list certainly seems to include Muggleborns, since they say they've captured a "Mudblood (presumably Dean Thomas), a runaway goblin, and three truants (the Trio)". Yet they don't mention Penelope.

So, Penelope was not on their list, and if it hadn't been for the Snatchers recognising Hermione in the paper, they might have gotten away with it. Maybe Penelope was Muggleborn and "presented herself for interrogation", which is something that Ron mentions Hermione hasn't done earlier in the book, and therefore that's why Penelope wasn't on the list - or that Penelope is not Muggleborn, but Half-Blood, and she got called a Mudblood in CoS anyway.

(Yes, JK probably forgot - but I'm sticking in-universe).

Exhibit D: The Muggle-Born Registration Commission

“Will the old hag [Umbridge] be interrogating Mudbloods all day, does anyone know?”

Shortly followed by:

“No, no, I’m half-blood, I’m half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he’s a well-known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you — get your hands off me, get your hands off—” “This is your final warning,” said Umbridge’s soft voice, magically magnified so that it sounded clearly over the man’s desperate screams. “If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor’s Kiss.” The man’s screams subsided, but dry sobs echoed through the corridor. “Take him away,” said Umbridge. Two dementors appeared in the doorway of the courtroom, their rotting, scabbed hands clutching the upper arms of a wizard who appeared to be fainting. They glided away down the corridor with him, and the darkness they trailed behind them swallowed him from sight.

So, the Muggle-Born Registration Commission was supposed to be rounding up, interrogating and imprisoning Muggle-borns, but arguably was also rounding up (and referring to) possible half-bloods, too. The same possibly happened to Dean Thomas, a half-blood (according to his official page) mistaken for a Muggle-born, as he had no record of his wizard father.

“Muggle-born, eh?” asked the first man. “Not sure,” said Dean. “My dad left my mum when I was a kid. I’ve got no proof he was a wizard, though.”

Summary of Exhibits

So, we've seen half-blood-or-more Bob Ogden and potentially half-blood Penelope Clearwater be referred to as Mudbloods by Gaunts/Voldemort. We've seen an entire house of people of different magical heritage between them, all collectively called Mudbloods by Walburga Black. And we've seen some random Ministry witch call a whole collection of (assumed but not confirmed) Muggle-born wizards and witches Mudbloods.

I think what we can gather from this is that the distinction between half-blood and Muggle-born hardly matters to some blood supremacists. If you're a Pureblood supremacist, anyone who isn't Pure is, obviously, impure. Arguably, "Mudblood" wasn't always strictly about being Muggleborn; it's about 'impure' heritage. The stronger examples (Bob Ogden, Walburga Black) are older examples; Voldemort and Walburga's generation (born ~1920s) and even before (Marvolo's generation had an even more ambiguous use). I think it's safe to say that the meaning of the word may have evolved or tightened by the time Harry is in school to primarily refer to Muggleborns, but obviously that's a matter of opinion;

Silent Half-Bloods in the Hierarchy of Pureblood Supremacy

Wizarding society is sort of divided into Pureblood, Half-blood, Muggle-borns, Muggles, and... Squibs, somewhere.

Obviously, in an ideal pureblood society, Purebloods are at the top:

[Sirius' parents] "thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge." (Sirius, OotP) "For years [Regulus] talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns..." (Kreacher, DH)

Setting aside the knowledge for a moment that Voldemort was half-blood, and instead perceiving him as the Pureblood he pretended to be, this is what he touted, and this is what his Pureblood followers from the "ancient and noble" families like the Malfoys and the Blacks aspired to.

So indisputably, here excluding for brevity's sake the complexities of intelligent nonhumans/magical beings and 'half-breeds' (being its own meta that's probably been written somewhere), Muggles are at the bottom of a blood supremacist's list. Muggles and Muggle-borns are seen as a threat to Wizarding society, and as (potentially dangerous) outsiders. We can see it in the explanation given (quoted somewhere way, way above) about Salazar Slytherin's reasonings; it started with mistrust, as Muggles in the early days were persecuting wizards.

This mistrust (and disgust) obviously was kept alive and well in Tom/Voldemort/blood supremacists: "I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch?" (Voldemort, CoS).

But it's also an element of exclusionary attitude; Muggle-borns have grown up outside of magical culture, which we can see reflected in the first interaction between Draco and Harry in PS:

“But they were our kind, weren’t they?” “They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean.” “I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”

It'll come as a surprise to literally nobody that the problem as blood supremacists see it is that Muggles, and by extension Muggle-borns, as well as being outsiders, are viewed as dirty/disgusting, and common. In CoS, post slug-heaving, Ron describes "Mudblood" as meaning:

"Dirty blood, see. Common blood".

We see these descriptors a lot in the series. Gaunt describes Merope as a "dirty Squib", "disgusting little Squib" and a "filthy little blood traitor" (and she's a Pureblood witch, albeit struggling with her powers); and in CoS of course Voldemort calls his father "a foul, common Muggle". We also see throughout the books "Mudblood filth", and "filthy little Mudblood" in particular reference to Muggle-borns such as Hermione and Lily (and to Bob Ogden).

[Side note: I have seen some arguments that say 'filthy' is sometimes used in the series instead of the word 'fucking', e.g. "that fucking Mudblood" - but obviously it's a kid's series, so the word was replaced. I think it could work in terms of this replacement in some contexts, but I'm not sure that was the purpose. Filthy just means disgustingly dirty, and has an interesting extra context from the etymology I just found out:

filthy (adj.) late 12c., fulthe, "corrupt, sinful," from filth + -y (2). Meaning "physically unclean, dirty, noisome" is from late 14c. Meaning "morally dirty, obscene" is from 1530s.

You can get a sense of a more 'moral' objection in the later books, e.g. Neville discussing their Muggle Studies during the events of DH:

We’ve all got to listen to her explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, and how they drove wizards into hiding by being vicious toward them, and how the natural order is being reestablished.

And especially this, from Voldemort:

"Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of Wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defense of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the purebloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance. … She would have us all mate with Muggles …"

I feel like there's a few points to be made about this quote.

First, obviously Voldemort has the DEs convinced that he's also Pureblood; he's the Heir of Slytherin after all, the Dark Lord, greatest wizard of all time, etc. Even Harry telling Bellatrix that Voldemort was half-blood at the end of OotP hasn't made a difference. (And why would it? Question or defy him and he'll kill your whole family and make you watch, probably).

Second, we can see also in the Muggle-Born Registration Commission chapter, where Umbridge asks Mary Cattermole where she stole her wand from, that Muggle-borns are accused of somehow... stealing magic?

"Nevertheless, unless you can prove that you have at least one close Wizarding relative, you are now deemed to have obtained your magical power illegally and must suffer the punishment."

Anyway, I think there's another point here, one I can't quite reach with my brain. The quote starts with viewing ostensibly only Muggleborns as the issue; as the thieves of knowledge. But Voldemort's point ends up with the disparaging of half-bloods (as they're the wizarding 'type' to arise from Muggle-Magical Mating™️). That's nothing to do with Muggle-borns at all.

But we hear next to nothing about half-bloods, despite their having Muggle and/or Muggle-born heritage; the same heritage described so often as dirty, disgusting, and filthy. We hear more outrage about blood traitors, Pureblood families who sympathise with Muggles or Muggle-borns: "blood traitors are as bad as the Mudbloods", "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book", and wizards/witches who are tolerant of Muggles are called "Muggle-lovers". (I hesitate even to say that 'Muggle-tolerant wizards' like, support, or even accept Muggles - because even Muggle 'tolerant' wizards (e.g. like Hagrid and the Weasleys), the Order and the like, the allies to the "champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore", also look down on Muggles to an extent, but I digress again).

The only disparaging references I could find to half-bloods were Bellatrix to Harry:

"You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood’s tongue, you dare -" " — He stands there — filthy half-blood —"

And one about Mundungus:

“That mangy old half-blood has been stealing Black heirlooms?” said Phineas Nigellus, incensed.

In the few examples we see, they're subject to the same dehumanising, dirty/disgusting and animal comparisons as "Mudbloods" and Squibs.

But there are few examples. The lack of attention paid to half-bloods is probably, in part because of the dwindling population of Purebloods:

"Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn’t married Muggles we’d’ve died out." (Ron, CoS) “If you’re only going to let your sons and daughters marry purebloods your choice is very limited, there are hardly any of us left.” (Sirius, OotP)

Half-bloods are accepted purely by necessity, because unlike Muggle-borns they do have magical lineage to draw on, and because there aren't enough Purebloods left. It's for the same reason that blood traitors are allowed to keep on being traitors but aren't punished to the same degree as Muggle-borns, per this note from the wiki:

"They don’t want to spill too much pure blood, so they’ll torture us a bit if we’re mouthy but they won’t actually kill us.” Given this statement, as well as the fact that the Weasleys were only in direct danger after Ron Weasley's help of Harry Potter was revealed to the Death Eaters, it seems that they were hesitant to kill blood traitors unless they were very rebellious.

Half-bloods sort of escape the Pureblood rhetoric entirely, between these reasons and being the most common type of witch or wizard. The term “half-blood” is ambiguous, and practically meaningless, after all; it refers to anyone with one Muggle parent (like Seamus Finnegan; Severus Snape), or anyone with one Muggle-born parent (like Harry, Tonks), and (I'm not sure if we learn this in the books, but) it also applies if you have a Muggle or Muggle-born grandparent, and presumably any recent traceable Muggle or Muggle-born lineage.

While half-bloods do have 'impure' Muggle ancestry, they are often viewed through the lens of their magical parentage, which can sometimes afford them a degree of acceptance or a different (almost nonexistant) level of scrutiny. In the hierarchy of blood purity, they are less offensive to purists compared to Muggle-borns, but not as esteemed as pure-bloods.

Sort of absent but for different reasons are Squibs. In broad terms, Squibs are generally more likely to be straight up ignored or disregarded, in contrast to the outright hatred and contempt directed toward Muggleborns and Muggles - the issue is a relation to non-magical Muggles, rather than magical skill itself. Because Squibs have magical ancestry, perhaps they fare slightly 'better' within this belief system. Of course, I expect it's all interrelated and decidedly more nuanced (as are all systems of prejudice/oppression), but as I say - in broad terms. Filch liked to help Umbridge, after all - like so many others in wizarding society (and wider, real-life society), his acceptance was conditional, and arguably based on either pity or what he could bring to the table.

In a similar way, being half-blood is only 'advantageous' when magical heritage can be proven and played upon - like Voldemort; like Umbridge:

“That’s — that’s pretty, Dolores,” she said, pointing at the pendant gleaming in the ruffled folds of Umbridge’s blouse. “What?” snapped Umbridge, glancing down. “Oh yes — an old family heirloom,” she said, patting the locket lying on her large bosom. “The S stands for Selwyn. … I am related to the Selwyns. … Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related...”

"It was Umbridge's lie that brought the blood surging into Harry's brain and obliterated his sense of caution; that [Slytherin's/Voldemort's] locket she had taken as a bribe from a petty criminal [Mundungus] was being used to bolster her own pure-blood credentials."

... and even like some Death Eaters probably do:

"The Death Eaters can’t all be pure-blood, there aren’t enough pure-blood wizards left," said Hermione stubbornly. "I expect most of them are half-bloods pretending to be pure." "I got this one," [Neville] indicated another slash to his face, "for asking [Carrow] how much Muggle blood she and her brother have got."

... and unlike the son of Arkie Alderton, the well-known broomstick designer, who got carted away by Dementors. Purebloods could and would just as easily turn on half-bloods.

"First they came for the Socialists…" as the poem goes. Muggles and Muggle-borns will be the first witches and wizards targeted, face the worst discrimination, but half-bloods too are only safe so long as they can prove themselves as 'magical enough', dedicated enough, or useful enough; and they'll never be magical enough for the likes of true believers.

Severus Snape: Mudblood?

I don't think it's a stretch, then, to say that some Purebloods did use the term "Mudblood" for people other than Muggle-borns. Unlike most of the half-bloods we see in the series, with two magical parents, Snape was actually the son of Tobias Snape, a Muggle, with a clearly Muggle name that sets him apart from the well-known and interconnected Pureblood families. As a student, and sometimes as an adult, Snape to some extent 'fit' the stereotypes of Muggles in that he would be perceived as common, dirty, and disgusting; throughout the series he's described as "greasy", with "yellow, uneven teeth"; he hails from Cokeworth, likely from a two-up-two-down house, described as though set in a Northern industrial area; he is scrawny, skinny, as a child wears mismatched clothes, and is likely neglected and grew up in poverty. (Contrast with Purebloods Sirius, who is regularly described as handsome, James, who had the "indefinable air of having been well cared for and even adored that Snape so conspicuously lacked", and the Malfoy family, who are also regularly described as being attractive).

If we use Draco as a benchmark for Slytherin Pureblood behaviour, then imagine how much worse Snape would be received; he's poorer than a Weasley, more Muggle than Harry Potter (and absolutely not the chosen one), and at least half as Muggle as Hermione. It's questionable whether Eileen Prince/Snape was herself even a Pureblood; whilst I was traversing for all the quotes here, Hermione talks about reading through Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, that "lists the pure-blood families that are now extinct in the male line" - which, if Prince was a Pureblood name, might have crept up in passing conversation since Hermione seemed to struggle to find anything out about the HBP in the previous book.

During a war in which Voldemort rose to power, with an identifiably Muggle name and not one of the vastly interconnected and still-powerful Pureblood families, Snape would be noticed for being different. He was about a year apart from Regulus after all, who had a whole collage on his wall of Voldemort's press cuttings, favoured son of enthusiastic blood supremacist Walburga Black - so I find it hard to believe that Slytherins were... fully accepting.

In CoS, when a basilisk was going around attempting to kill Muggle-borns on behalf of the Heir of Slytherin, the Slytherin common room password was pureblood. I feel like there's a whole point there, but it's nearly 4am here, so I can't brain it right now. (But like... did Snape set the passwords? Did the entrance do it magically?? Did a Head Boy/Prefect do it?? Either way, there's a strong sense of pureblood supremacy communicated in that password that's only strengthened by the timing, echoing the Heir's agenda). In any case, it speaks to the entrenched nature of pure-blood ideology of Slytherin as a house.

"my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal . . . my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them" (Sirius, OotP) "as far as [Marvolo] was concerned, having pure blood made you practically royal" (Harry, DH)

The Purebloods of Slytherin house in any generation - who considered themselves "practically royal" in their superiority - would surely ridicule a self-styled, half-blood Prince.

[venusswhite]

Above the Ruins | Eight

Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

masterlist

In a world devastated by chaos and the threat of the undead, two destinies intertwine in an unexpected way. Ghost, a hardened ex-military man haunted by the horrors of war, encounters [reader], a lost and desolate young woman. With his experience and determination, Ghost decides to help her, and together they embark on a dangerous journey in search of a refugee center.

notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English.

Seven - Nine

"Damn it. Swim, Sergeant!" Ghost shouted, starting to swim against the current.

I let go of his arm and also began to try swimming. The river was wide, and the shore seemed far away. The current pulled us more and more. The thoughts of giving up and letting the water take me were overwhelming. My arms ached along with my legs, my lungs burned from lack of air, and my skin trembled, craving warmth.

It felt like an endless battle we weren’t going to win. We were just meters from the waterfall, and not knowing its height terrified me. The sound of rushing water was loud, and I wondered how we hadn’t heard it sooner.

Ghost and Soap were fighting just as hard as I was. Soap was farther ahead, with a look of total panic when his body disappeared, being sucked by the water that fell into God knows where. With a scream, I was pulled under shortly after.

The fall felt infinite, and my heart was on fire. My body didn’t hurt, but my mind did. It was a constant thought of ‘I don’t want to die.’

The thoughts stopped when my body hit the water, the fall snapping me out of the trance. Startled, I saw a larger body falling beside me, and I quickly swam upwards, realizing it was Ghost next to me, while Soap was farther ahead, with a pained expression.

"Are you guys okay?" I asked, breathing heavily.

"My ankle hurts, I think I hit a rock when I fell," Soap said.

I swam towards him, helping him to the surface and guiding him to rest on the riverbank where we had fallen. Ghost emerged shortly after, throwing his backpack on the ground and approaching us.

"Let me see," he said, kneeling beside us and removing Soap’s boot. "It's swelling. Probably a sprain, we’ll need to immobilize it."

"I think we have bandages in the backpack," I said, opening Ghost's pack, where we’d stored the first aid supplies. "They’re wet, but they'll work."

"Help me here…" I held Soap’s leg as he groaned in pain. The larger man firmly wrapped the bandage around Soap's ankle, tying a tight knot.

"Damn it. This is going to be a problem," Soap said, trying to stand and groaning in pain.

"Nothing we haven’t handled before. [Name], I hate to say this, but you’ll have to lead the way. Take point, Sergeant."

This was my chance.

"Sure, Lieutenant."

I headed into the forest, with Ghost helping Soap to walk behind me. We moved in silence, listening carefully to every little sound. The tension was high, and the desire to prove myself even higher.

"We'll keep going in this direction until we find a good spot to camp. We're not far from the city, but Soap needs to rest," Ghost said quietly, and I nodded.

After a while of walking, I spotted a slightly flatter area, with few roots on the ground and some leaves.

"Good spot!" Ghost praised, helping Soap sit near a tree.

"What a shitty situation," Soap said, frustrated with himself.

"Relax, Soap. Try to rest as much as you can, Ghost and I will handle the rest."

"Sure, ma’am," he said, laughing as he leaned against the tree.

Ghost and I started setting up the camp and preparing our lunch.

Unfortunately, the river wasn’t what we’d hoped, and Soap's situation slowed us down since the plan was to reach the next city before nightfall. But I knew there was no point in being pessimistic about the situation; things happen as they need to happen. Maybe this happened for a reason? Maybe if we had arrived earlier in the city, things would have been worse. I tried to see the bright side of it all. There was no use being pessimistic in these circumstances, and in the reality we lived in, we were constantly doomed to danger, and sooner or later, this was bound to happen.

While Ghost opened the soup cans, I started hanging up our wet belongings.

"Soap, give me your jacket, please. I’ll hang our clothes to dry."

"Thanks, [Name]," he said, handing me his jacket.

Seeing what I was doing, Ghost quickly removed his jacket and handed it to me. I smiled at him, noticing his eyes narrowing under the mask.

The sun was still warm, but it didn’t seem like nightfall would take long. I hung our jackets and the things that got wet in the backpack on a nearby tree, with the sun shining directly on them.

"[Name], your food," Ghost handed it to me, and I saw that Soap was already eating.

We ate in silence, with only the sounds of birds and the warmth of the sun, which was perfect after a river 'bath.'

"We need to be careful. It’s going to be hard crossing the city with Soap like this, and waiting for his ankle to heal is risky. Our food won’t last."

"So, what are we going to do?" I asked, looking at him. Soap was also looking at him.

"The same thing we did to get here. You’ll go ahead. Very carefully, understood?" he said, emphasizing the "very carefully."

"Sure, Lieutenant," I said, laughing, finding his concern endearing.

"[Name]! I’m serious!" he said sternly. "There will be many more of them in the city. Soap and I will be compromised. You’re good, but you’re still inexperienced. They could catch us off guard…"

"They won’t, Ghost. I’ll be careful."

"Good."

✧˖°₊

We rested until nightfall, Soap half-asleep against the tree, and I leaned against Ghost as he fiddled with my hand, noticing every detail. We stayed mostly quiet, just enjoying the peace.

After everything dried, we packed everything back into our backpacks, and at night we took turns sleeping.

The next day, I woke up feeling the sun on my face. I opened my eyes, noticing Ghost was already up.

"Good morning!" I said, getting up.

"Good morning!" he replied, walking towards me, hugging me, and kissing my forehead over the mask. I smiled at his gesture.

"I don’t think I ever asked about your family," I said to Ghost as I started helping him break down the camp.

"It was a… difficult family. A lot happened. I had a younger brother, we lived with my mom and dad. My dad was a drunk who beat the three of us," he said with empty eyes, and I instantly regretted asking. "When I turned 17, he passed away, and when I became an adult, I joined the army. My brother got married and now has a kid," it seemed like a sensitive topic for him.

"Where were they when this happened?"

"His wife and kid were at home, he was at work. I haven’t heard from them since. As for my mom, she became one of them."

"My God… I’m so sorry," I said, getting closer to him.

"It’s hard. I just wanted her to have a good life. After I started earning my own money, I tried to give her everything she never had: love, a comfortable life, a little house just the way she wanted and deserved… I hope it was enough to make up for the hell she went through with my dad."

"I’m sure it was, Ghost. She must have been so proud of you."

"I hope so… Anyway, what about you? Do you know where yours was?"

"No. In fact, I never knew."

"What do you mean?"

"I was left by my mother for adoption as soon as I was born. I never met her."

"So, you lived in an orphanage?"

"Yes. I lived there my whole life until I became of age. After that, I was practically kicked out. Luckily, I passed the university entrance exam and got a 100% scholarship. I stayed in the dorms until all this happened."

"That must have been hard."

"It was very lonely. I couldn’t make many friends."

"You didn’t feel like you belonged there, did you?" he said as if reading me.

"Exactly. It was weird. It seemed like everyone had plans for the end of the year, for the holidays, for the weekend, except me," I said as we packed the last of the camp, with only Soap's things left, as he still slept with his mouth slightly open.

"I know a bit of what that feels like," he said, seeming not to want to continue the subject.

✧˖°₊

After waking Soap up, Ghost adjusted his bandages and helped him stand.

"Here’s the map," he said, handing it to me and helping me put on my backpack. "We need to move faster today. We must reach the city before nightfall to have time to find shelter."

"Alright."

Ghost helped Soap with his backpack and supported him as they started walking."

[lyxyhii]

Summary: a harmless, fun party at the Slytherin common room turns into sleeping with Draco Malfoy.

..

Y/n x Draco Malfoy

..

Warnings: drinking, sexual dancing references, drug references, sex, making out, fingering,

..

I arrived outside the Slytherin common room, a person standing outside deciding who can come in.

Once me and my friend, Clara Mchill, arrived at the door, we were immediately let in. No questions.

We giggled and walked in, the lights flashing and people dancing everywhere. I looked over at Clara and said,

"let's have some fun tonight."

A smirk came to her face fast and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the make shift bar.

Stood behind it was some random Slytherin boy, he probably learned to mix drinks in a class.

"could me and my friend get 3 shots of your best vodka?" Clara asked loudly, trying to be heard over the noise.

He nodded and poured our drinks out for us on the bar ledge.

"I've never really drank this much before Clara" I said worried.

"don't be scared, you'll loosen up soon." She giggled.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my first shot and took it. My face cringed at the kick. Than once I was ready, I took the other 2.

Clara laughed at me. My lightweight ass is already gone. She took her shots shortly after.

We ran to the dance floor and started dancing a bit. Laughing and making jokes.

I had forgotten I wore a shorter dress, it definitely has ridden all the way up, just under my ass basically.

I pulled it down once or twice but had forgotten.

"y/n, I'm going to find some coke, I'll be back," screamed Clara.

I nodded and kept dancing. Suddenly, a person grabbed my hand and pulled me towards them.

They were tall, had a white button up and black pants. I tried to make out the face but I couldn't see.

"he bent down and whispered in my ear "y/n, I woul sod never think you at of all people would be here."

I whispered back, "All I needed was a couple drinks to loosen up."

I could feel a smirk against my face. I giggled a bit.

I swayed my hips a bit. I was long gone of any conscious I had before taking those shots.

He put his hands on my hips and swayed a bit with me. I turned around and I started dancing against him. His hands still on my hips.

He put his head next my ear again and said,

"let's go somewhere quieter."

I smirked and grabbed his hand, leading him towards the doors that go into the a room our couches.

Once in there, I found a couch without someone on it and laid down on it.

I could finally see his face, it was..oh my god.. Draco?

I was dancing on Draco Malfoy, the boy who I've never had the guts to talk to.

He crawled next to me and we began to makout. His hands exploring my waist.

I moaned a little into the kiss. Draco smirks a bit than moved one of his to my thigh. Moving it up slowly.

I pulled away for air, resting my forehead on his.

I may how been blacked out moments earlier but I'm very aware of what's happening right now.

Dracos hand is slowly going up my thigh, making me gasp.

"is this okay?" He asked me.

I nodded quickly, desperate for his touch. His hand continued up and brushes over my clit.

"holy crap," I gasped.

He moved my underwear and began to rub my clit at a slow pace. He's such a tease.

I put my head on his shoulder to try to hide my face. Muffling my moans the best I can.

"oh god," I softly said.

He began to pick up his pace, making it even harder for me to hide my moans.

"it's okay, let go. Everyone is to drunk to noice you and I," he joked.

After his words, I started to let my moans out. They weren't loud but noticable if you were sober.

"good girl," he muttered into my ear.

The knot in my stomach was building and building, my moans louder and louder.

I had no more shame, all I felt is pleasure.

"I'm close!" I moaned out.

As soon as I said that, I came. I'm not lying, I've never came before.

Draco was right, I'm not the person to be like this normally. I'm such a goodie tushy girl with all A's and never party's.

"that was... amazing," I whispered.

"how about we go to my room for more... privacy.." he hinted.

He stood up and held his out, I grabbed it and stood up too. I fixed my dress, than we walked to his room.

We arrived at his door and he opened it slowly, pulling me inside.

I walked towards the bed, the king size bed with large bed posts in each corner.

Draco shut the door and locked it, than began to unbutton his white shirt. Afterward, he folded it and put it on the dresser.

I looked over at him, his small but muscular figure made me just feel faint.

He looked away for a second and quickly took my dress off, throwing it to the side.

Now, I was left in my underwear. I felt so bare and vulnerable. I tried to cross my arms to hide myself.

He turned around and saw me standing there, my face red with embarrassment.

"don't be embarrassed, you look... amazing," draco confessed.

He walks towards me and put his hands on my hips like earlier, than leaned in and kissed me.

I kissed back slowly, putting my hands on his face. He grabbed one of my legs and brought it up to his hip, making me feel him more.

This Time, he pulled away. He grabbed my other thigh and lifted me up, than carried me and laid me on his bed.

I sat there and stared at he undid his black pants.

He jumped on the bed and crawled on top of me and we began to makout again.

the room was heating up, the passion in the kiss grew.

Draco sat me up and undid my bra and slipped my underwear off, leaving me completely nude.

I felt so ashamed of what I was doing. I look down at my purity ring on my finger. (hint to the last thing I wrote ;) )

Draco began to kiss down my neck, trying to find my sweet spot. And once he found it, he abused it.

Leaving hickeys all over my neck. I gripped his hair tightly and moaned softly.

Whenever he makes me feel good, my shame goes away. But the moment that pleasure and fun goes away, I'm ashamed and worried.

"y/n, I must ask before I go farther, are you okay this?" He asked with a sincere look.

"I'm more than okay with this." I stated.

I grabbed his head and pulled him into a kiss. His dumb smirk seeped through the kiss.

Draco took his boxers off and aligned himself with me, slowly inserting himself.

I winced in pain, this pain was horrible.

"shh, shh, I won't move till your ready." He says calmly.

My eyes were squeezed shut, I was trying to fight it.

After many minutes of just sitting there, it started to fade.

"I'm...I'm ready," I stutter.

I'm worried this will be nothing like how my friends make it out to be. They say it's amazing but who knows.

He slowly moves his hips, thrusting in and out.

A wall of pleasure hits me suddenly, and the loudest moan leaves my mouth.

"oh god!"

Draco laughs loudly and picked his pace up.

I put my hand over my mouth but draco ripped it off.

"you don't have to hide how good you feel y/n"

I nodded and just let go.

I threw my head back into his pillows, so my friends really didn't lie.

I was so lost in the pleasure that my purity ring had flewn off my finger.

I felt the knot building slowly.

"Draco..Im..I'm close!" I spoke.

"just a couple more minutes," he stated.

I held back, trying my hardest not to cum. But it's hard when he keeps hitting my sweet spot. It feels too good.

"cum y/n," draco groans.

I squeezed around his and came, he pulled out right after and finished on the bed sheets.

He got up and grabbed a towel, cleaned me up.

I stayed still for a couple minutes, trying to come down from my high.

"that was amazing, Y/n. " Said as he laid next me on the bed.

I looked over and smiled, than said,

"I never would have thought at the beginning of the year I would go t a Slytherin party and sleep with draco Malfoy"

"I could say the same with you." He laughes.

I took in his sweet laugh and smile, I never see this side of him. I see the dark scary side.

We talked for a bit than I cuddled next to him and fell asleep in his arms...

.

.

.

(IF YOU WANT THE NEXT DAY STORY, ITS ALREADY POSTED. I WROTE THIS AS AN ADD ON TO IT!!)

[ghoststyles]

Fairway to Heaven Part 8

8K.... 🤠👍

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

______________________________________________________________

Harry prides himself on his ability to keep his composure. He has to as a boss, a mentor, a partner. But in this moment, he feels out of his mind. His love, his reason for being some days, wants nothing to do with him while he’s an entire ocean away. 

While he’s over the moon about meeting Oliver and mending burned bridges with Camille, he’s ready to fly home. He has two more weeks in France. Time he can spend changing Briar’s mind. 

He reaches for his phone to reply to Camille.

Everything is alright now. I’ll be at the pitch shortly. 

Ok. See you soon.

Harry inhales through his nose and exhales through his mouth in hopes of putting on his brave face. Parents have to do this all the time, he thinks. He didn’t think he’d need it, but he packed his Xanax anyway. With shaky hands, he pulls the container of pills from his toiletries, not even taking a swig of water to wash it down. 

Barely able to look in the mirror, he lifts his head painfully to find his eyes puffy and swollen, and his chest red from the panic rash that formed. His mind is reeling from Briar’s sudden flip on him and his heart hasn’t stopped hammering in his chest. 

Walking over to the dresser, he stumbles on the edge of his suitcase. He angrily shoves it with his foot before pulling a pair of jeans and a light sweater from the drawer. He dumps his rings out of their cinched pouch onto a towel on the table, staring at each of them before putting on his usual suspects. The ruby ring he and Briar picked out together on a whim sends a shiver down his spine.

They’d just eaten lunch, and were wandering aimlessly down the street of a nearby town when Briar spotted a pawn and thrift shop. The smell of mothballs and incense overwhelmed their senses, but Briar pulled them further in, slowly analyzing the unique pieces. She hovered over a jewelry case when she pointed to the square ruby stone and metal band. 

“You need one,” she reached for his left hand, lifting up his pointer finger. “For this one. It’s empty.”

“Y’think?” He smiled at her, staring at her lips.

“Yeah,” she poked her tongue in her cheek while lifting his hand to rest on the hollow of her neck. “‘d feel good right here.”

Harry’s jaw locked before rolling his eyes, “Not now, Birdie.”

The sound of the street below breaks Harry from his train of thought. He’d better go if he wants to make it to Oliver’s game on time. He calls his Uber, but not before sending Briar a text.

🦊: Please don’t do this, love. Get some sleep and call me when you wake up. I’ll talk all night if we have to. I love you.

Not expecting an answer, he shoves his phone in his pocket. He doesn’t smoke cigarettes, but his nervous system is shutting down on him. He wants to pop into the shop and buy some, but the gruff driver arrives minutes later, waving Harry in the car. 

He lays his head against the window and shuts his eyes. The panic is slowly starting to leave his body as the pill works its magic. He watches happy couples stroll the city of love as he’s the most miserable he’s ever felt. Even more so than when Camille left him. 

Harry knows she’s probably stewing with emotions, but he stops himself from blowing up her phone.

~

Briar is on her bathroom floor staring up at the ceiling after heaving into the toilet for an hour. It’s not food poisoning. She’s not drunk. She’s worried she’s made the worse decision of her life. 

Her heart is shattered, her brain is screaming at her, and her gut feels right. Her gut is rarely wrong; but her heart is begging it to be. 

It’s now close to 3AM, and there’s a slim chance of Briar getting any sleep. Part of her wants to call Harry, but she knows he promised to go to Oliver’s game. He’s probably suffering enough. 

Briar knows she’s being unfair. If years of therapy taught her anything, she’s overly self-aware. Her phone buzzes, so she looks down to find Harry’s text. Her bottom lip immediately starts to quiver, trying to hold back tears.

Even though she hurt him, he’s still level-headed and sweet to her. He probably thinks she’s having one of her moments of intense feelings and needs time to calm down. It’s the scorpio moon in her; brash, intense and passionate.  Gus is hovering over her as the sweat dripping from her forehead subsides. She’s grateful for his company. He seems to always sense when she’s down and is there to lick her salty tears from her cheeks.

Grabbing her phone that skidded across the floor, she dials Caroline's number. It rings and rings, so she hangs up and tries again a few moments later.

“Briar? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Caroline’s strained, sleepy voice rings through the phone.

When Briar doesn’t respond right away, Caroline knows what happened. 

“Babe,” she says softly. “Did you do something?”

“Caro,” Briar says, a mix of a sob and a whine. “I talked to him on the phone and I blew up at him. I’ve fucked everything up.”

“Okay, okay. Breathe. What happened?”

“I,” Briar starts. “I told him this isn’t working. That I don’t see where I fit in all of this. He has a kid, Caro. He has to figure out how to be a dad before I can figure out how to be a step-mom. A wife,” she wails. “But I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut until he gets back.”

“I-yeah,” Caroline exhales. “But we’re well past that, so, let’s make a plan. Do you want me to come over?”

“No, no, it’s too late. I’ll come to you.”

“Okay, be careful. I’ll see you soon.”

Briar hangs up the phone and immediately calls for an Uber. She opts to stay in her pajamas, slipping on her Ugg boots and throwing one of Harry’s hats on. It’s his hat from when he went to the Master’s tournament. He was walking on air that entire week, documenting his trip and calling her from the iconic pay-phones on the course since no cell phones are allowed.

A tear sneaks out of the corner of her eye, and she doesn’t bother wiping it. By some grace of god, she secures a driver. She watches the headlights appear through the fog, and hops into the white SUV.

“For Harry?” the driver asks. 

Her ride is on his account again.

She nods before slamming her head on the rest behind her, grateful the driver doesn’t seem talkative. She looks down on her phone, fully expecting another text from Harry.

🦊: Baby, where are you going?? Please call me. It’s so late. 

1 missed call from 🦊

1 missed call from 🦊

1 missed FaceTime from 🦊

🦊: We don’t have to even talk or figure anything out, I just need to know what you’re doing. It’s so late and I’m worried.

1 missed call from 🦊

Her phone is burning in her hand from Harry blowing it up. Now she feels guilty from taking his time away from Oliver. Switching apps, she zooms into the map to find her ETA. 8 minutes. 

🦊: Please. Just tell me if you’re safe.

🐥: I’m going to Caroline’s.

🦊: Okay. I love you. So much. Don’t give up on me. 

🦊: Please. 

Briar shoves the phone into the waistband of her pajama pants. Spotting the familiar entrance to Caroline’s neighborhood, she unlocks her seatbelt so she can bolt as soon as the car stops. 

He slowly pulls up to the driveway, so Briar flies out of the car, mumbling thank you to the driver. 

Caroline is standing at her garage door, awaiting her arrival. Her face is sad as she gnaws on her lower lip. Briar collapses into her arms when they finally meet. Caroline pets at her hair, waiting until she calms down before speaking again.

��C’mon, let’s get inside.”

~

Harry is ghostly pale sitting on the sideline of his son’s football game. The squeals and laughter from the children should be giving him that warm and fuzzy feeling, but he can’t help but feel like he’s going to vomit. He’s been discretely texting and calling Briar while trying to watch the kids play.

Camille senses his energy and quietly leans into him.

“What’s going on?”

Harry is startled, not expecting her to ask that. 

“Um, I, uh,” he sputters. “My girlfriend. Just a rough patch is all.”

Camille nods, her jaw shifting a little, “I thought so. Been together long?”

“Mm, since May, I guess. Met her at Wynnewood, actually,” he says quietly, picking at his nails.

She looks at him quizzically, “Still going there? I thought for sure you’d swear it off forever.”

Harry laughs ironically, “Some of us have to deal with issues instead of running away from them.”

Her eyebrows raise at the jab, but she nods her head. 

“If you need to leave and take care of it, you can come over for dinner later. Theo is making lamb,” she offers. 

Harry nods appreciatively, standing up. He gets Oliver’s attention as he runs to the group for a drink of water. He waves at him, an enthusiastic smile overtaking his face.

“Bye, Oliver. I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

“D’accord, Papa!”

Harry’s breath catches in his throat, a lump quickly forming. He looks back at Camille, a small smile donning her face that matches his, before turning to leave the pitch.

He jogs toward the metro. Looking down at his phone to pull up the map, he sees another Uber charge to his card. Puzzled, he does the math to determine the time in America. 

It’s well past 3AM and Briar is going somewhere? His stomach drops, so he sends her a series of texts, tries calling and FaceTiming. Running a hand through his hair, he decides to whistle for a Taxi instead. 

The driver gets him to his hotel in record time, so he throws 20 euro through the plexiglass. He ascends up the 4 flights of stairs, his asthma raging every step he takes. Being an entire ocean away, he’s not even sure what he can do right now beside continue to call her. 

He sits down on the bed, his knee anxiously bouncing as he waits for her to pick up. Not expecting her to answer, he’s shocked when he hears a strained voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Briar, baby, what’s going on?”

“I came to,” she hiccups. “I’m at Caroline’s.”

Harry frowns, unsure what this means. He’s not going to have this conversation with Caroline present.

“Okay. D-do you want to talk? I just want to understand what’s going on, lovie.”

“It’s late here,” she replies. She shuffles into Caroline’s bathroom. Her foot is asleep from where they sat on the floor trying to reel in Briar’s thoughts and emotions.

“I know, but, baby, I can’t let you hang up this phone. Please tell daddy what’s going on.”

“Fucking stop, Harry!” she starts to cry again. 

Harry couldn’t be more confused.

“What do you mean?” he says softly, his heart sinking. 

“This is too much. You need to learn how to be a dad, Harry. Separate from me. I can’t be a part of this when there’s so much to figure out,” she sniffles quietly.

“Briar, our day to day isn’t going to change,” he reasons. “I haven’t talked to Camille yet, but I can most likely take frequent trips and even have Oliver stay with us in the U.S for a little at a time.”

“Harry. You need to put your son first.”

His jaw drops, having no idea what she’s talking about. What the fuck is he doing in Paris if he’s not putting his son first?

“I love you so much. But, I had the parent who didn’t put their kids first. And it sucked. It still hurts me to this day,” Briar chokes out. “I’m stepping away so you can be the best dad to Oliver. So he doesn’t have a memory of his dad choosing some woman who was sort of there in his life.”

Harry feels like he’s been sucker punched. He pictured Harry, Briar, Oliver and Gus spending summers together; the dog chasing the boy around the yard, and Harry and Briar cuddled by the fire watching. 

He still hasn’t answered. He knows what she means; who wants to take on raising someone’s child at 24? Her family issues continue to rear their heads in different areas of her life.

“Bri—,” Harry starts, but fails. “I hear you, sweetheart. But, I don’t know how to convince you that this is a mistake. Thought we were forever? Are you not my forever?”

Briar clenches her jaw and shakes her head violently. Her head will go right through the dry wall if this continues. 

“I want to be. I want to be so fucking bad,” she heaves. “But I can’t right now.”

Tears start flowing down his face. He places his right hand over his heart to make sure he’s still alive. He’d marry her the minute he touches the tarmac if it meant that she’d stay on the phone with him right now.

“Please,” he’s desperate now. “Briar, please. We’ll grow through this together. Do you trust me?”

She’s silent. She does trust him; it’s herself she doesn't trust. She had to be the glue for her brothers. She can’t be the glue in Harry and Oliver’s relationship. 

“Take the time and focus on him, Harry.”

“Can I see you? When I’m back?”

“No,” she says sadly. “I’m gonna pick up my stuff at the house.”

“And that’s it?” he replies, almost angrily. 

“Yes, that's it. What’s meant to happen will happen.”

Fuck fate! Harry puts his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth.

“I’m hanging up now, Harry,” she says softly. 

“Briar—,” Harry says as the line disconnects. He grips the phone so tightly he could almost snap it.

Harry places his elbows on his knees to regulate his breathing. Labored, depleted pants are escaping his chest, so he shuffles his Spotify to relax. The app immediately plays Secret Language by the Shivers, a song Briar and Harry have spent countless nights dancing to while making dinner, or making out to by the fire pit. Bile bubbles to the top of his throat as it plays.

Until we meet again.

Under some street light in some foreign town.

And then you'll take my hand,

And look at me as if to say, "Are you still down?"

~

Briar depletes her body of all water and oxygen by the time she’s done crying. Caroline gave up on getting any sleep, so she put on John Tucker Must Die to lighten the mood. 

Her eyes are bloodshot, cheeks sticky and stained with tears, jaw aching from the constant pressure. Caroline didn’t hear any of Briar and Harry’s conversation, but she pieced the situation together between Briar’s wails and hiccups. 

Caroline sees both sides; a young girl so hopelessly in love, but held back by her deep-rooted family issues; not ready to raise a child. And a guy who was dealt an unfair hand and is trying to pick up the pieces. She feels for them, she really does. 

It’s admirable, Briar’s approach. Removing herself from the equation allows for Harry to focus on being a father for the first time, having missed out on the first seven years of Oliver’s life. 

The girls agree on giving Harry time and space to be a dad. Briar can focus on grad school and even date around if she wants. To witness two people who are good to one another and protect each others’ peace be driven apart by circumstances beyond their own makes her heart hurt. 

Caroline pulls Briar in for a hug, gently petting her hair until they both finally fall asleep.

~

The hours drag on the more Harry stares at the blank wall in his hotel room. The sun has come and gone, and he feels like a hollow shell of a person. He’s due at Camille and Theo’s for dinner in just under an hour, but he can’t bring himself to move. His eyes are sore from crying and his stomach is still in knots.

He drudges to the bathroom to strip and jump in the shower. The scorching water runs down his back as he extends his neck to stare at the ceiling. He takes a series of deep breaths, the duration increasing of each one. It’s not until he’s gasping for air that he shuts the water off.

Tying a towel around his waist, Harry grabs his phone to make a rash decision. He dials the number, walking over to the window.

“Hey, boss!” Madison says happily. “What are you doing calling me on your leave of absence?”

“Gotta keep you on your toes. Niall been treating you well?”

The two exchange pleasantries for a few minutes, until Harry changes the subject.  

“Listen, ah,” Harry starts. “Can you do me a favor? Two, actually. One, can you change my flight home and send me to Manchester next week instead? Might pop home for a minute. I’ll leave Paris a few days early.”

At this point, his heart is racing.

“Second. Can you head over to my place and change the codes for all of my exterior doors? Today? Like, as soon as possible. You can make the front door my mum’s birthday.”

“Uh, sure. Should I ask why?”

“Uhm,” he stumbles. “‘D rather not get into it.” 

“Okay. Anything else you need?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks, Mads. I appreciate all of your help organizing everything.”

“Anytime. Talk to you soon.”

The call ends, and Harry feels like a piece of shit. Did he really just send his assistant to keep Briar’s belongings hostage at his house? Yeah.

He needs to buy himself time and hold on to contact with her. Is it manipulative? Yes. Does he give a shit right now? No. He’s an ocean away and his entire future is slipping from his grasp. 

~

After Ubering home at 8AM, Briar tends to Gus and takes another run to clear her head. She runs to the same coffee shop from the week before.

“Hey, Briar,” Spencer smiles, approaching the counter to take her order. “You done that take home mid-term?”

She pops her AirPod out of her ear before shaking her head, “No, I’ve been so busy I haven’t even looked at it yet.”

“Ah, well, if you need any help, let me know. I’d be happy to review it with you,” he winks. 

A nervous shiver shoots up her spine, “Uhm, yeah, thanks. I-I’ll let you know, for sure. Can I have an iced green tea? With a little sweetener and a lemon?”

“You got it,” He smiles again, turning on his heels to make the drink. He hands it to her a few minutes later before going to help another customer. This time, he took her money. She waves before popping her AirPod in and resuming her walk. 

She decides to bite the bullet and go to Harry’s for her stuff before she loses the courage. The water from her shower is scorching hot, but she prays it’ll wash away the ramifications from the night before. Her neck aches from throwing a tantrum throughout Caroline’s room. 

Briar scurries out the door in her favorite sweats and her hair tied in a knot on her head. 

Pulling up to his house brings another round of tears to her eyes, so she lightly throws her head against the back of her seat. A deep breath escapes her nostrils, and she’s immediately reminded of Harry. She misses when he’d make her do box breathing; inhale for four seconds, hold for four, exhale for four and hold for four. She gasps for air before her eyes are met with an unfamiliar car in the driveway. 

Furrowing her eyebrows, she jumps out of her Jeep before approaching the front door. Waking up the key pad, she punches in the code.

1206 - June 12th - His childhood cat, Dusty’s, birthday. She rolls her eyes. The month comes first in America, dingus.

Without acknowledging the red light that flashes twice, her body slams into the door. Confused, she jiggles the handle. Nothing. Entering the passcode again, she’s met with another flashing red light. 

Backing away from the door, she looks back at the unfamiliar car. Does he suddenly have a house sitter since she opted to stay at her apartment instead of here? 

Shaking it off, Briar walks to the side door that leads to a mudroom. This time, the code is 2307 - July 23rd - The day he moved to America. 

Again, she’s met with the angry red light.

“What the fuck?”

As a last-ditch effort, she tries the back porch door. Again, she enters the code.

0102 - February 1st - Harry’s birthday. 

The door is locked. That motherfucker!

She pounds at the door, screaming, “Hey! Open the door!”

A familiar face pops in view through the glass with a concerned look on her face. Madison.

“Briar? Hey!”

“Uh, hey, Madison. What’re you doing here?”

“Harry asked me to do a few favors for him. He asked me to change his locks for some reason. Did he not text you the new codes?”

Anger boils in Briar’s chest. Her puzzled look makes Madison speak up again.

“I’m guessing no. I can write them down for you,” she smiles, reaching into her purse for her notepad and pen.

“No, he didn’t. We broke up, actually, so,” Briar says quietly.

Madison gasps, her face contorting into a look of pity.

“Briar! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. That’s such a shame,” she lends a soft touch on Briar’s shoulder. ���Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be gentle with him.”

Briar nods, inhaling heavily through her splayed nostrils.

“Here, I’ll let you in now. Is your stuff inside? Is that what you came to get?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Briar bites her lip, looking down.

Madison punches the new code in and invites her inside. She lets Briar go ahead, before saying goodbye and shutting the door. 

Briar stands in the entryway staring at the eerily still house. It doesn’t sound the same without Harry puttering about, playing music or loudly watching the Packers.

She laughs at her thought before remembering how angry she is at him. Pulling out her phone, she furiously dials his number.

It rings several times before it’s picked up. The person on the other end is silent.

“You’re a real fucking prick, you know that?” Briar seethes into the phone. “Don’t even give it 2 hours before you’re changing your fucking locks and keeping me from getting my shit?”

Harry winces, pulling his phone away from his ear. Camille and Theo can hear the tone of Briar’s voice through the speaker, causing them to look at Harry questioningly. Harry just finished reading a story to Oliver and tucking him in. 

When he imagined being a dad when he was younger, bed time was a big part of his day dreams. Some of his fondest memories are times he was cuddled up to his mom and sister, listening to them read Shel Silverstein poems to him as he drifted to sleep. 

He excuses himself from where Camille and Theo are sitting on their sofa.

“Briar, listen —,” Harry tries, ducking through the window door to their balcony. They all enjoyed a nice dinner, starting to talk about a co-parenting plan moving forward. 

“No, I won’t fucking listen! Madison was just here and told me you made her change the locks. Do you know how much of a fucking idiot I just looked like?”

“I didn’t think you’d go over right away. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you,” He lies. He knew she would. 

“So, you’re just going to manipulate me into staying in touch with you? What’s next? Are you going to abduct Gus from his doggie daycare?”

He has to hold himself back from smirking. Now she’s just putting ideas in his head. 

“Birdie, I’m not evil,” He reasons. “I just wanted to up my security while I’m gone.”

“You are SO fucking full of shit. You knew I’d go MIA and you’re trying to Stockholm syndrome me.”

“That’s not how that wo—,” he replies but is interrupted from her frustrated groan and scream.

“FUCK YOU, H. Don’t fucking contact me again,” Briar spits at him. “Ever.”

“Birdie, please, let’s just talk!” Harry yells before she hangs up on him again.

Her vision is blurred by the fat tears forming in her eyes, fingers shaking as her thumb hovers over the block button on Harry’s contact. She closes her eyes as she presses the button, her stomach dropping to her feet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants sadly as she sits in his hallway, her head in her hands. 

Harry’s face scrunches up as he leans against the railing of the balcony. He watches the happy people on the street below pass by, his heart thumping out of his chest.

He ducks through the window again to find Camille in the kitchen, flipping through a magazine. Her eyes meet his, waiting for him to speak.

Harry runs a hand through his hair before finally saying, “I changed my flight. Have some things to take care of,” he says solemnly. 

“D’accord. Let’s get a plan in place before you go, then.”

He nods before joining her at the table. 

Harry and Camille discuss a loose plan. Oliver will live with Camille and Theo, and visit Harry twice a year for a month. Harry will visit Oliver for a few weeks at a time throughout the year. She feels comfortable with Harry’s ability to take care of him, but for their first trip, she’d like to be close by.

Harry is relieved. They hug, and a hopeful feeling washes over him. For his last day, they make plans for Harry to take Oliver to the museums for the day before they say their goodbyes. 

He leaves their apartment, his hands in his pockets. His heart hurts for many different reasons; searing pain over Briar, but swelling with love and adoration for Oliver. On the metro home, he spends time putting important school dates for Oliver in his calendar. He’s even started to block time off in his work calendar to be able to check in with him several times a week. 

Shuffling back to his hotel, he stops by a pharmacy to grab a pack of cigarettes. Just one, he thinks. For the culture. He leans against the entrance of his hotel, lighting the stick with a match. He winces at the heat on his finger tips, waving his fingers in the air. 

He inhales, letting the smoke swirl around his lungs, the heat burning his throat slightly. Coughing, a few more tears escape his eyes. He won’t last long with his asthma, but he feels the dopamine hit his brain.

He flicks the butt to the ground before heading inside. The doorman looks at him sympathetically before pressing his floor on the elevator. He pulls out his wallet to open the door with his key card.

The room is messy how he’d left it — clothes thrown about and the pillows indented from his fits of anger. He even spots the open bottle of tequila from the few swigs he took before Oliver’s game. Father of the year. 

Before giving up and going to bed, he sends one text to Briar.

🦊: I’ll be here when you’re ready. It’ll always be you.

 The message delivers in a green bubble.

~

It’s been 24 hours since Briar blocked Harry. She calls in reinforcements to help her gather her stuff. 3 of her 4 brothers arrived to Harry’s — begrudgingly, but willing to help her carry things. She frantically searched the house for their more damning items; plugs, whips, chains, ropes, gags, what have you, and hid them deep in Harry’s closet.

Her adrenaline from not sleeping and getting completely drained emotionally is taking over, so she’s suddenly energized to get this done. They grab Gus’s items and a few workout supplies she leaves in his gym. Suddenly, the space becomes more sterile and boring as her items are removed. 

She buys them all pizza as a peace offering, so they spend one final evening at Harry’s. The boys avoid the elephant in the room, and opt to listen to Callum’s crazy stories from his friend’s bachelor party. 

When they leave, they each hug her for a little longer. She’s grateful for their company since she’ll probably fall apart before bed again. 

She stares at the house before sadly pulling away, not daring to look behind her in the mirror. 

All the while, watchful eyes couldn’t stop watching this unfold through the security cameras. 

~

He doesn’t know why he watched. If it weren’t for the annoying ping sound, he’d forget he can even view his security cameras from his phone. 

Harry’s eyes were glued to the screen as he watched his girl stand on his driveway, staring sadly at his house. His number is blocked — he’s sure of it. So, he opts to be the eye in the sky instead of finding a way to contact her in some obscure way, like messaging her through her cable provider. That’s too toxic, even for him. 

He had an amazing day with Oliver at the museums and going all over Paris to do his favorite things. It’s fun to tour a city in the eyes of a child. Then, they had a teary goodbye as he boarded the plane to England. 

“Au revoir, Papa. Je t’aime,” Oliver sniffles.

“I love you too, buddy. I had so much fun with you,” Harry rubs his back. He kisses Oliver on the forehead before reaching to hug Camille. 

“Thank you, Harry. This is a good thing,” she smiles at him. “Good luck with everything. We’ll talk soon about travel plans.”

Harry nods, waving one more time at Oliver. He walks to the gate, quickly losing sight of his boy. Now, he’s sat watching a live stream of his girl packing her shit and leaving. She even brought in her brothers to get out of there quicker. 

He angrily shoves his phone in his pocket before covering his eyes with his arm. The airport is buzzing around him, and he’s just thankful this flight home is quick. He’s excited to see his family; it’s been about a year and a half since he was in England, due to travel restrictions from the pandemic. 

Unable to be alone with his thoughts, he pulls his phone back out to open his photo app. He flips through photos of himself and Oliver, Oliver and Pierre the cat, and even one of Camille and him that Oliver took. He smiles at each of them, feeling the happiness radiate off his boy’s dimpled smile.

As he scrolls, he moves further back in time. Pictures of Gus, Harry and Briar cuddled in bed, her bare body in various positions start popping up. He lowers his brightness so TSA isn’t called on him. His heart lurches at his chest when he finds a photo of their pinkies intertwined.

He snaps his eyes shut as tears blur his eyes again, so he jumps when he hears his flight number called. He’s flying coach, since it’s only an hour long flight. He stands once group 4 is called.

A woman with a small baby is ahead of him, so he offers to lift her suitcase into the overhead compartment of their row. She smiles at him gratefully as she situates into her seat. 

Harry is nestled in his window seat when he shoots his mum a quick text that he’s boarded. He’s done it for every flight he’s ever gotten on. 

He bunches up his DAMN. hoodie and rests it between his head and the window. His over-ear headphones are on, but he’s not listening to any music. All his liked songs on Spotify are from Briar controlling the music in the car. He’d risk playing a song they both love and end up bawling his eyes out. 

The plane starts to taxi, so Harry finally presses shuffle. It’s that goddamn song again

It’s a one chance in a lifetime, sort of thing.

It’s the kind of love sent from above.

Harry takes a deep breath before frantically pausing the song and shoving everything in his bag. The woman from earlier spots his minor outburst, so she gives him a concerned, tight-lipped look. He looks away, slightly embarrassed. 

They still have 30 minutes left on the flight, so Harry pulls out his moleskin notebook. He hasn’t journaled since he got kicked out of graduated from therapy. He’s scared to flip to previous pages; unsure what he’ll find.

Next thing he knows, the words are pouring onto the paper.

He’s not going to give it to her, or anything. He’s just trying to channel all of his anger and heartbreak in one direction so he doesn’t lose his mind. A small chuckle escapes Harry when he realizes this is now the second time he’s running home after heartbreak, the last one happening almost 9 years ago.

It probably makes him seem soft, but he can’t bring himself to care. He wants to be surrounded by people he loves, and maybe even a little doted on. His mom and step-dad are nearing 70, so he really should be the one caring for them.

He’s excited to see his niece and tell her all about her new cousin. She begs for a sibling all the time, so maybe this will fill the gap for her. 

He doodles on the page, making sure to initial the bottom. He mindlessly draws a bluebird and a jar of honey. Just a few minutes later, the cabin lights flash, signaling their descent into Manchester. His sister and niece are picking him up, so he’s sure to have a laugh the minute he sees them. 

When Harry exits the plane, he stretches his long limbs, loosening his joints and hips. He’s exhausted both physically and emotionally, so he can’t wait to pass out in the guest room. 

From the top of the escalator he spots Gemma and Hattie, along with a sign he can’t quite make out. As he gets closer, he sees what the sign his beaming niece is holding. 

Welcome home, Uncle Harry!

His heart bursts in his chest, so he starts to step down on the escalator to get to them faster.

“Uncle Harry!” 

“Hattie!” he yells as he lifts her in the air. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too!”

“Hey, stranger,” Gemma says, pulling him in for a hug. 

“Hey Gem,” Harry kisses her cheek. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem. Why the last minute need to come home?”

“We’ll talk about it,” he diverts her attention as he hands Hattie his small bag for her to carry.

“Nooo! It’s too heavy,” Hattie whines. 

“Where’re your muscles?” He laughs grabbing the bag back. 

The three of them head to the car listening to Hattie spew every moment leading up to getting him at the airport. 

Harry sits up front, resting his eyes. Gemma hasn’t said much, but she’s dying to know why Harry is home. They drive back to the house, Hattie humming some song by Jojo Siwa, whom Harry has no clue who that is to begin with. 

Gemma drops Harry off at their mum’s before heading back to their own house. He promises to see them the next day at breakfast. He blows a kiss to Hattie before unloading his bags from the trunk. 

His mum comes to the door as soon as she heard the trunk close. She waves to Gemma and Hattie before meeting him on the path.

“Hi, mum.”

“Hi, baby. So happy to see you,” she gushes as she pulls him in for a long hug. “I just put some tea on, if you want to go put your bags away.”

“Okay,” he says softly. He already feels like he could fall apart. 

His room has been transformed into many things over the years; a yoga room, a pottery studio, and even a sauna. But, now it’s back to being a spare bedroom. He opens the wardrobe to find items from his past. Football trophies, drawings from school, and a dozen stuffed animals. His chest constricts as he looks at a small stuffed dog that Briar would probably love. 

He shakes the thought and closes the door. Not bothering to unpack, he heads back out to the sitting room. His mum smiles at him, patting the seat beside her. Harry says nothing as he fixes his tea; one sugar and a dash of cream. 

He clears his throat, “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

Anne flashes him a tight lipped smile, “I’ll never turn down a visit with my youngest pup. It’s been far too long, anyway.”

Harry nods, taking a small sip, only to sputter from the searing temperature of the tea. 

“Just, um, going through a rough patch,” he grips the back of his neck and scratches the nape. “Was seeing a girl, and she encouraged me to make amends with Camille.”

Anne’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “So, does that mean you’ve met…”

“Yep. Yeah, I did. He’s great, mum. And Camille seems to really have changed. She and Theo are married with another baby.”

Anne has a visceral reaction to this, but says nothing. 

“The girl —Briar— is 24, and, obviously, I think getting involved in something like this is daunting. But, I really thought she was the one,” he coughs. “Is the one.” 

She leans in closer and rests her chin on her palm, “So, what’s going on then? Did she get cold feet?” 

“I think so. Called the other day and everything just blew up. She wants me to take time to learn how to be a good father to Oliver.”

She hums, stirring her tea around. 

“I get it. She’s a bit young to possibly become a step-mum. But, it’s not like he’d live with you full-time.” 

“That’s what I said, but she’s not having it. Pretty sure I’m blocked on everything.”

Harry omits telling his mother about keeping Briar’s belongings hostage in order to buy himself time. 

“It’s a tough situation, baby. I see both sides. Maybe just take this time apart and get into a good routine with Oliver and Camille, and then go from there.”

Harry rubs his eyes, tears threatening to fall at any minute. He can’t help but feel like it’s just not in the cards to be happy. Any sliver of happiness has been fleeting, raising his anxiety levels as the years go on. 

“I’m just so tired of being unhappy,” a small sob escapes him. He’s trying to breathe to stop it from happening, but he just erupts into harder, shakier tears.

Anne pulls him in for a hug, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He feels stupid. He’s reminded of the times he cried this hard; when his cat, Dusty, died, or when he was caught smoking weed for the first time, and, of course, the weeks after Camille left. 

He remains like that for almost a half hour; Anne’s grip never loosening. Once his breathing slows and the shivering stops, he moves to rest his forehead on his folded arms on the table. 

“You can stay here as long as you need to, sweetheart.”

~

“Hey, Bear,” Patrick’s cheery voice rings over the phone. 

Briar is laid up in her bed, curtains drawn, not a peek of sunlight coming through. It’s been 6 days since she blocked Harry. It’s like one of her limbs is missing.

That’s the thing about routine; when it’s disrupted, it can be impossible to go back to normal. She’s been operating on autopilot, and is due for a breakdown soon.

“Hi,” Briar squeaks.

“It’s been a while. Haven’t heard from you or seen you at Wynnewood. Why are you hiding?”

Briar scowls to herself. He knows her too well.

She coughs in order to buy herself some time, or an excuse. “Just been feeling burnt out lately. Busy with school. Everything’s fine, Uncle Patrick.”

He hums, but she can tell he isn’t buying it. After years of going head to head with him, he knows how to play offense.

“We’re having some people over on Saturday. All the boys will be there, too. Bring Harry if he’s around.”

Briar inhales sharply at the sound of his name. 

“Mhm, okay. I’ll let you know,” she mumbles. Seconds later, her eyes shoot open. “Wait. Aren’t they all out visiting mom?”

“They got back on Monday. You haven’t talked to any of them?”

Guilt bubbles to the surface. “No, I just helped Cormac book his flight. But, that was a few weeks ago.”

“Bri,” Patrick replies pointedly. “What’s going on?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, her voice cracking a little, “Nothing. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Honey, I know you’re not telling me the truth. What is it? Is it your mom?”

Briar can barely breathe. “Yes, I’m still upset about her leaving,” she lies. 

“You gotta tell me about that stuff, Briar. We’re all here to help you. Have you told Harry the whole story?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles. “He knows what he needs to know.”

“Okay. Please don’t bottle things up. It’s not good for you.”

Suddenly, Briar is 15 again, drinking for the first time and sneaking out to meet boys. Her aunt and uncle almost sent her away, but instead opted for more intense therapy, which helped. 

“I know. Thank you. I love you,” she says quietly.

“Love you too, Bear. See you Saturday. Harry owes me a six pack from our bet the last time we played.”

She chokes out a fake chuckle and hangs up, throwing her phone across the room to her “everything chair” that gets covered in clothes and junk every week.

Even though it’s nearing 8 PM on a Wednesday, she’s feeling reckless. She immediately grabs her phone again, and begins typing. Her heart is beating faster than it has in weeks. 

B: Hey, Spencer. It’s Briar. Want to meet up and review the take-home exam?

~

Harry is staying in Manchester for a few weeks. His leave of absence is over, so he had Madison ship him his laptop and order new monitors. He’s staying at Gemma’s in their guest house. It’s a little more secluded, and he can get some work done in peace. 

He’s gotten into a good routine over the past few weeks; His mornings are spent working out, playing with Hattie, and visiting his old stomping grounds before returning home to work east coast hours. 

Niall is starting to get suspicious. As far as he knew, Harry’s time with Oliver went well. Harry is oddly cold in their meetings, and can barely meet Niall’s eye in their weekly one on one meetings. He hasn’t mentioned Briar’s name once. 

Harry is surprisingly in good spirits. His mum, his sister, his niece and his old mates have been taking his mind off things. This time around, heartbreak is effecting him in a completely different way. 

Maybe because he knows it’s not over. He just has to play his hand right. He’s trying to avoid groveling, or smothering her.

So, like a lion laying low in the grass, he’ll wait her out. 

~

Talking to Spencer is easy. Effortless. Not that talking to Harry wasn’t, but it’s different. He understands her meme references, they make connections about the games they played as kids and the tv shows they watched.

He’s extremely kind, and doesn’t give her any sort of ick right off the bat. Their study session started out as a tutoring session, which soon turned to Briar finessing his answers from him. Not that she couldn’t do it on her own; she’s just seeking attention. 

She’s well aware of what she’s doing. It’s been just over a month since she and Harry broke up. Well, since she ended it. It’s infuriating that he hasn’t tried to contact her. Was he even in love with her in the first place?

Spencer and Briar meet up regularly, and he’s even started to get day passes to Wynnewood so he can see her. Briar is back to work like normal, not answering any prying questions from Cam or any of the friends she’s come to make there. They look at her with raised eyebrows, but don’t dare to say anything. 

Spencer and Briar have kissed, which sent her into a tizzy when she got home the night it happened. Spencer messaged her the next night to ask her out to dinner at a nice Italian place he loves. He called an Uber for her, so the destination was unknown, until she pulls up to a familiar place. La Campagna. Harry’s favorite restaurant. 

Panic seeps through every pore in her body. Not wanting to alarm the driver, she takes a deep breath before forcing her body to move. 

Her hands are shaking, but she pulls open the door to reveal the quaint interior. There are only a few seatings each night, so the whole place is intimate. She spots Spencer in the back corner, so she softly smiles at the hostess before walking over.

He stands to pull out her chair, and compliments her dress. Upon sitting, Briar downs the glass of water at her seat. Spencer is startled, but doesn’t comment on it. They start to chit chat, debrief from their day and discuss their assignments for the week. It’s nice conversation, but it doesn’t light each of her nerve endings on fire like it does with Harry.

After a while and a lot more wine than she planned on drinking, she excused herself to the bathroom. Scurrying past the tables, she finds the small single bathroom in the back hallway. She’s about to push open the door when she spots a picture hanging on the wall.

A picture of Harry. And the chef, Massimo, who Harry befriended years ago. This photo is clearly not recent; his face a little softer, and his hips holding onto the puppy fat. He looks to be about 25. 

His suit is striking; bright pink with only a white tank top underneath. The two are smiling brightly, Massimo leaning over his shoulder. Despite how many times she’s been here, she’s never once noticed this picture. 

Her panic comes back as she forces her way through the door. She can hardly flip the lock and turn on the light before a sob escapes her. She bends her knees, folding her body in on itself. Covering her face with her hands, she tries not to smudge her eye make up. 

Briar is not a discreet crier by any means. Her eyes get puffy, she bites her lip until it bleeds, and a rash forms on her chest when she’s in any kind of distress. It’ll be clear as day when she returns to the table. 

Hesitantly, she rises to stand in front of the sink. She takes a stack of paper towels, dampening them so she can cool her body temperature. A sigh of relief washes over her when the cold water touches her skin. 

Why did it have to be this fucking restaurant?! Balling up her fists, she gives herself a pep talk in the mirror, and takes several deep breaths to regulate her breathing. Using the same towels, she cleans up her under eye area, bringing her make up back to decent shape. 

Briar unlocks the door, and confidently strides out of the bathroom, completely ignoring the photo on the wall. Spencer smiles when she comes into view. 

“Hope you don’t mind, I ordered us another appetizer,” he smiles.

“Perfect,” Briar flips her hair over her shoulder, smiling at him softly. “Want to come back to mine after we finish here?”

________________________________________________________

@daphnesutton​ @pandeebearstyles​ @anxiouswaterss​ @gem1712 @stylesfever​ @awesomenavy​ @crazygirlinthisworld​ @butdaddyilovehim-hs​ @luxiorchive​ @alchemxx @narry-heart

DON'T KILL ME PLZZZZZ HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL WRITING TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE .

[all-risejd]

A New Judgment Chapter 1: WrestleMania 39 (Poly Judgment Day Fic)

Written by @scarletraine​ who can’t seem to remember to post to this godforsaken hellsite so has me post here for your enjoyment!

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Nessa sits between Aalyah and Angie ringside at WrestleMania at the request, at the insistence, of Rey and Angie. She is wracked with nerves having not seen Dominik or heard from Dominik in months since he broke up with her over text saying,

"Nessa we're over, I'm sorry but you don't deserve this, you deserve better." He never responded to anything else and ghosted her. Dom's family kept in touch, taking her out for her birthday and such, and filled in some blanks but nothing is making sense and she is conflicted and hurt. Nessa starts playing with the bracelet that Dominik gave her on their anniversary which belonged to his grandmother and means a lot to her and to his family. She starts to fidget more as Dominik makes his entrance and makes his way down to the ring.

Aalyah sees how nervous and fidgety Nessa is and gently places her hand on Nessa's shoulder.

"You look hot girl, he is going to regret what he has done," Aalyah tries to boost Nessa who only shrugs her shoulders, her black lace top corset matching her ripped jeans, accentuating what she feels are her best assets, but Angie was the one who picked the top and Nessa is suspicious as to their motives to bring her there tonight even though they have been nothing but welcoming to her.

Nessa's eyes never leave Dominik's body as he makes his way down to the ring and begins to strut as he enters it. He faces his mom, sister, and ex, his expression changes for a split second, Nessa would have missed it if she blinked, he almost looked remorseful. Aalyah sees it as well and leans over again so she could be heard by Nessa.

"Are you ok sis, I know this can't be easy for you," Nessa shrugs again, trying to keep from speaking so her voice doesn't break. Angie looks at the young girl she has grown to love as another daughter in the few years she was with Dominik, getting with him shortly before the pandemic when he met her at her job.

Everyone but Nessa stands as Eddie Guerrero's music comes on and Rey comes out in a lowrider being driven by Snoop Dogg. She doesn't see however, her eyes don't leave Dominik, the hurt evident on her face. Every time he looks over at his mom and sister he never meets her gaze. As Rey enters the ring Dom puffs out his chest acting tough. It isn't until the match starts that she says anything to them.

"I can't do this I'm sorry..." She moves to get up with tears in her eyes to leave but Angie grabs her wrist.

"Mija please. I know this is hard, but we are here to support them and hopefully put this mess to bed."

Nessa looks at her incredulously, "How can I support either. I still love Dom but he broke my heart and it is clear he doesn't feel the same anymore if he ever did. I love Rey like a father, and I can't side with either over the other I'm sorry." She tries to gently pull her arm away, but notices Angie's sad eyes flicker to the camera aimed at them and then to the fighting men in the ring. Nessa groans and plops down, hiding her face in her hands, realizing the commentators are probably having a field day with what she said. She jerks her head up as the crowd gasps and Angie and Aalyah stand up cheering. Nessa sees Dominik between the turnbuckles and a belt in Rey's hand. She stands up mortified no longer caring about the camera.

"Rey, don't do this please!" She screams out, her own past flashing before her eyes and not wanting Dom to experience this embarrassment. She feels Angie grab her arm again but yanks it away, looking on mortified as Rey spanks Dominik. She looks at Rey, betrayal evident on her face as Dominik rolls out of the ring and stands in front of them. Dominik barely glances at her and It is at that moment she realizes why they insisted on bringing her, why she is there. To distract Dom, to guilt him back to his family and her and she feels disgusted.

"What the hell was that?" Dominik yells at his mom over the crowd

"You deserve it!" Angie yells back, Aalyah standing beside Nessa, her drink cup in her hand. Dominik grabs it and glances down before throwing it at her, the liquid also getting on Nessa. Without thinking Nessa is halfway over the barricade holding Aalyah back.

"Aalyah no, don't get involved!" She struggles to say as she holds back Aalyah. Rey hops out of the ring and runs over to check on them only to be jumped by Dominik and sling shot into the corner of the ring. Dominik then grabs rey and slides him back into the ring and gets back in himself taunting the crowd smacking his shoulders.

Nessa stays standing, one hand on the barricade, the other biting her thumbnail, anxiously watching as the match goes on. She feels a gentle tug at her belt loop and looks down to see Aalyah gesturing to her seat. After a moment of debating, she takes her seat. She leans over to Angie, her hand covering her lips so people can't read them and whispers to her.

"Did you insist I come to try and manipulate or distract him so he will come back or lose?" She stares at Angie's face as she thinks of an answer. However, the hesitation is answer enough and she stands back up, unable to hide the betrayal she feels.

"I'm sorry sweetheart we are desperate," Angie tries to grab Nessa's hand only for it to be snatched away. She watches as Dom flings his dads neck on the top rope and jumps out of the ring, pulling Rey out before sauntering back over to them. Worry flashes across his eyes looking at Nessa's expression but he controls his expression and turns to his mom who is standing again.

"What are you going to do about it, you're not going to do anything!" he taunts his mom. Nessa can't hear anything else because she is so shocked when Angie slaps Dom who turns around shocked with his hand on his cheek. Rey comes up behind him and pushes him into the corner of the ring headfirst. He then turns and kisses Angie and mouths ' I'm sorry' to Nessa before throwing Dominik back into the ring. She flinches every time Rey lands a hit on Dominik and Cheers when Dominik kicks out of the Pin.

"Why are you cheering him on, he broke your heart?" Aalyah asks, annoyed and confused.

"Because you guys were wrong to bring me to guilt or distract him, that was wrong to me and him. He needs someone in his corner. Even with the heartbreak I couldn't go against him." Nessa sighs in relief as Dom kicks out of another pin.

"Not only did he dump you, he did it by text with no explanation. He doesn't deserve your support." Aalyah tries to convince Nessa to support her dad instead of Dominik.

"Because when you love someone, you want what is best for them even if it isn't you anymore. If Rhea and The Judgment Day is that for him and it makes him happy that's all I care about." She sees some people nod in agreement.

"I understand and respect that, but I can't condone the disrespect, he needs to be taught a lesson." Angie claps as Rey lands another hit.

"You mean disrespect like calling up your son's heartbroken ex who hasn't seen or heard from him in months, making her sit and watch him thrown around by his father in an attempt to manipulate or distract him. The same ex who has a history of being abused and you know," Nessa's rant silences any response Angie would have.

Nessa is on her feet and watches as Dom flings Rey and catches his neck on the top rope and falls to the mat. Dominik jumps out of the ring and pulls Rey out and tosses him to the ground and heads over to them again. Worried flashes over his eyes for a moment as he glances at Nessa before focusing on his mother who stood up.

"What are you going to do about it, you're not going to do anything!" he taunts, and Nessa can't breathe, a roaring in her ears blocks out what was said next as Angie slaps Dom who turns away holding his face and the crowd cheers. Nessa looks disgusted at Angie and Rey gets up and attacks Dominik and flings him into the same corner as before. With Dom on the ground writhing in pain Rey turns around and kisses Angie and mouths I'm sorry to Nessa who only glares at him as he tosses Dominik back into the ring.

She realizes she fully chose Dominik's side as she flinches every time Rey lands a hit and cheers when kicks out of the pin. Aalyah looks at Nessa annoyed,

"Why do you cheer him on? He betrayed us, betrayed you."

"Because he has no one in his corner and he deserves that. He didn't betray me, he broke my heart. There is a difference. You were wrong to bring me here to distract or manipulate him." She answers as Rey pins Dominik again. She sighs in relief as he kicks out again.

"Why do you want to be the one in his corner since he broke your heart and ghosted you." Aalyah pries.

Not caring about the cameras Nessa answers, "Because i still love him Aalyah, as i said a minute ago, so stop trying to turn me against him." Nessa begins to relax a little when Finn and Damien come out to the ring, she still worries for Rey. While she is hurt at their actions, she doesn't want either to truly hurt themselves or the other. She flinches as Rey is thrown into a turnbuckle and is seemingly knocked out.

"Dom get up and pin him!" Nessa yells out wanting this to be over. She doesn't see but Finn and Damien share a look and nod in an unspoken agreement. Finally, Dom pins his father and Nessa groans as Rey kicks out again. "I just want this to be over..." She mutters to herself before cussing and slapping the barrier as Rey hits the 619.

She is happy but conflicted as Damien and Finn hop onto the apron to interfere. Damien pulls Rey down and takes off his jacket, laying it in the corner of the ring. She is biting her nails again as they both fall out of the ring, the wind knocked out of them in front of Finn and Damien. The LWO runs out and down the ramp attacking Finn and Damien before they could interfere again.

"Come on Dom!!!" She cheers as he sets up his own 618 and then tries to finish with a frog splash and pins his father. She throws up her hands in frustration as Rey kicks out yet again. She stays silent as Dom unties the turnbuckle pad only to walk over to Damien's jacket as the ref retires the pad, from Damian's jacket Dom pulls out a chain. She shakes her head in worry only to be partially relieved as Bad Bunny runs up and snatches the chain out of Dominik's hand.

"Dom look out!" She yells out trying to warn him about Rey behind him who drop kicks him into another 619 set up and a pin. Her face drops as the ref counts to three and Dom is out of the ring by Damien and Finn in front of her. Angie and Aalyah already in the ring celebrating with him having jumped over the barricade. Rey gestures for her to join and she shakes her head no. Finn supports Dom's weight as Damien offers his hand and helps her over the barricade.

"Come with us to the back, Mamita."

"Only to make sure he is ok then I'll go," She responds, ignoring the nickname. They slowly back up the ramp, Nessa looking at Dom worried and looking at the ring betrayed. Once they are backstage and past the gorilla, she is still aware of the cameras following them so she controls her face and walks tall and is almost shocked when Damien speaks again, his deep voice calming to her.

"So, what do you do Mamita?" He asks as they near medical.

"She is a nurse." Dominik groans out the answer supporting more of his weight and Finn starts laughing.

"I'm a charge nurse now for the Pediatric unit at the hospital now Dom."

"Well thanks for your support of our Dom Dom." Nessa hears an Australian accent from behind them as the doctors and nurses check Dom. She turns and sees Rhea and gulps.

"Just wanted to make sure you are ok Dom Dom and to meet this beautiful lady who went against your family to support you." She says as she tucks a loose strand of Nessas hair behind her ear. She can't help the blush that forms. Rhea turns to Dom,

"You do have good taste Dom Dom, I'll see you all after my match" She then turns to Nessa again, "Please stick around till after my match I would like to discuss something with you after." Nessa stands there shocked as Rhea leaves the room.

"Your new girlfriend seems nice." Nessa comments as she watches the medical staff evaluate Dominik. Damien and Finn share the same look as before.

"Well actually we are all together, love." Finn responds and Dom stares at the floor avoiding Nessas gaze.

"Oh that's cool too. Thank you for looking out for him, just make sure you keep each other safe and happy." She accepts what Finn admitted.

"We heard what you said while we were waiting backstage and we admire your loyalty and devotion, mariposa." Damien places his hand on Nessa's shoulder and pulls her into a hug. Her immediate instinct was to pull away but she didn't. It was strangely comforting, even more so when Finn pats her back.

"You're fine Dominic, just going to be sore for a while." The doctor announces before leaving the room. She fiddles with the bracelet again before unclasping it and walking over placing it in Dominik's hand.

"Thank you for letting me be a part of the history of this. It means a lot. Goodbye, Dom." She kisses his cheek and makes her way to the door. She opens it and sees Triple H with his hand raised poised to knock. She steps to the side to let him in to talk to his talent.

"I'm actually here to see you miss?" he leads off silently asking what to call her.

"Klein," she hears a snicker from what she assumes is Damien, "But as you probably know my first name is Nessa." She shakes his outstretched hand.

"I want to talk about what happened out there," He explains and Nessas smile drops to a look of worry and the other three men in the room share the look. Noticing this Triple H clarifies, "You aren't in trouble, but there is business to discuss if you would follow me to my office." he steps aside gesturing for her to come out the room. She nods and follows him out the room as the men of The Judgement Day share a confused look.

[dtmacgxstorys]

Ithaqua X Reader!

This is an Ithaqua X Gender Neutral Reader! (No Plan, Just Write!)

Note: Yes, More Ithaqua! I just Love Owl Boi! >//.//<

You & your friends head of a ruthless killer stalking in the nearby woods, It's also been unnaturally cold since the rumors started. You & your friends decide to spend some time in the woods, considering your family's wouldn't care if any of you went missing. You've been walking for a long while, going deeper in the dark, cold woods. "Why is it getting colder the deeper we go?" One of your friends asked. "Hey, Look, a house!" Another said, pointing in the direction of a small building. ".. guys, is that a lone gravestone?" Your 3ed friend asked, pointing to a small clearing. All 4 of you walk over to it, but you can't read what it says.

"Well, I say we go in the house and out of the cold." One friend said, and the another two follow. "I'll be in shortly." You say as you keel down to try to read headstone. "Who lived here, away from everyone?" You said before getting up & heading into the small house. When you get inside, your friends have already started to fire. "Hey, Y/N, come look at this cute guy in this picture!" "And I bet if we do see the killer, you'll probably think they are attractive as well." You say, rolling your eyes, walking over to them. You look down at the picture & blush a little.

The first night was uninventful. In the morning, the two friends who brought bow an arrow with them when out hunting. You & your friend when to get more wood, you feel like you're being watched. "Ok, *huf* I think this is enough for a week, lets go back." You help carry the wood back to the house. "... something doesn't feel really." You say. "We in the woods where serial killer might be hiding." Your friend says, continuing their way to the house. You put the wood in the house & say: "please stay here, i'm just gonna look around the house real quick." "oh, o-ok." You step outside, not even sure why you feel the need to look around.

You look up in one of the trees & you see an owl sleeping. You can't help but smile at the site. You were starting to relax until you hear your friends scream. "Shit!" You ran back into the house. "...well, I guess we didn't need to get as much wood as we did." "I know you said you were depressed, but how can you not care that one of our friends was just murdered?" "Because that's why we were!?" "...right." You say, shaking. You both hear another scream, but this time, it was closer to the house you two are in. "Sh-Shit! I-I d-don't w-w-want t-to die h-here!" You say. Your friend gets up & quickly says: "then go hide somewhere."

You run into a room into a room in the back of the house, it's a simple but nice-looking bedroom. You go into the closet & hide in the plile of old clothes. Just as you have yourself buried in the clothes, you hear the front door slam open. "Why must you have a mask? Afraid somebody might recognize you?" You hear two clicks & then the video of the kill. "Oh shut up, no one deserves to see my face." You hear a thud, you assume that was your friend's body hitting the floor. You hear a couple of clicks getting closer to you & then he says: "three, three, I know I saw four people come in here. Oh, where could you be?" You hear him slowly approaching where you are, but before he comes into the room you're in, you hear an owl cell out. "Umm, do you know something I don't, little one?" You hear him start leave. "Doesn't deserve to die you say? I know that you're older than I can understand, but really?" You hear the owl cell out before flying off. "Hehe well, I guess it's your luck day, you get to live an encounter with me, Ithaqua! hehahaha"

You hear the door closed, but you say in the pile of clothes, shaking, crying. You must have fallen asleep because you wake up on a couch in front of the fire. You quickly sit up. You hear something land on the back of the couch next to you. It's the owl you sew earlier. You reach your hand out to pet it & say: "oh, helo there!" It seems to like you petting it. "She's pretty, it's she?" You jumb & turn to the voice. You see a hooded man with a mask that kind of looks like an owl's face & the fake that his hood had existed fabric on it that looked like ears, he just looked more like an animal than a person. You move to the other end of the couch, away from him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." ".. y-you're the o-one w-who k-killed my f-friends?" "Oh, rrriiight, ..uummmn" He says, looking at the fire. "W-Why didn't you kill me?" "She doesn't want me to." He says, looking past you at the owl. You look at her. "Y-you can understand her?" He looks back at the fire. "Yes."

You pet her some more. "Thank you." There was a long & awkward silence. He brought the silence by asking: ".. are you hungry?" "Hamm? Um, a little." He gets up & heads to the kitchen. You decide to follow him. "... ssoooo, I'm Y/N, by the way." "Ummm, whatever darling." You can't help but blush hearing him cell you that. "*huph* so what's you making, Asshole?" "All I have right now is deer stakes, no fruits or vegetables. Is that ok with you, Y/N." Him saying your name made your heart skip a beat. "...uuummmm y-yeah." You say as you had to the table. The owl flys over the chair next to you. "She have a name?" "She wouldn't tell me & she doesn't want to be given one." "Oh." Is all you said as you petted her.

"So... why did you & your friends come into the woods?" He asked. "...um... we um.... our families don't care about us, we only had each other." ".hummm" "... was this place always been your home?" He pauses for a while. "...yes." You look out the window & you can see the headstone. "... do you want some water?" "Yes, thank you." "You're welcome." He says as he fills a class & brings it to you. You only take a couple of sips, waiting for him to be done cooking. Eventually, he brings you the plate of cooked deer meat & puts it in front of you, then sits across from you. "Thank you." "You're welcome. ... I just someone will see my face after all these years." He says as he pulls his mask off & his hood falls off as well. He's even more beautiful than the picture of him. "Hehe you know it's rude to stare, darling." You look away from him, taking a sip of your water. ".. you know, your not that bad to look at either." You almost choke on your water. "Haha I'm sorry, are you ok?" "*Cough* umhu y-yeah." You try to hide your face as you eat.

When you finish eating, he gets up, takes your dishes & cleans them. "Soo, where am I going to sleep?" "The room you were hiding in." "Oh, ok." You get up & start heading to the room. "Tired already?" He asked, walking over to you. "I-I uummm" "Why are you so nervous, darling?" He asked as a claw grazes you check. You shiver. He walks away from you, saying: "just so you know, that's my room, I won't try anything but, I will be in there to sleep later." "What!? Isn't there somewhere else I can sleep, I see another door and-" "Don't Go In That Room!" You jumbled. "Sorry, that was my mom's room, I want it left how it was." "Oh, ...ok." You say, going into his room. "Sweet dreams, Y/N!" You hear him cell to you before you start drifting off.

End!

It's 4:35am! 🫠

This feels more like a creepypasta fan fick than anything.

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 19

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: After their plan to execute Randall is upended, everything they know goes up in flames. Daryl, Iris and Glenn uncover a shocking truth, something Rick has been keeping from everyone. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; discussion of walkers, a few minor injuries, broken neck, suggestions of murder/conspired murder/murder attempts, the barn is on fire, abandoning ancestral home, huge walker herd, familial death (canon), (somewhat) abandonment

Chapter 19 - Rotten

Iris and Daryl got their things packed and prepared for the trip before Rick came back over from the barn.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Daryl replied, Iris nodding along.

“I’ll go get the package.” T-Dog offered, jogging off toward the shed. Iris hauled open the back door of the truck, depositing a backpack of things Carol had prepared for Randall. T-Dog came running back fairly quickly, the look on his face saying everything they needed to know. “He’s gone.”

“What?” Rick asked, turning around.

“Randy’s gone. All’s left is a pair of handcuffs covered in blood, man.” He replied. They took off running toward the shed, Daryl practically ripping the door open. Rick knelt down to inspect the pile of blankets and the handcuffs. T-Dog went to tell the others and word spread fast. 

“How long’s he been gone?” Iris asked, looking at the others.

“’S hard to say.” Daryl grumbled.

“The cuffs are still hooked.” Rick murmured, coming out of the shed to find what looked like the whole group waiting expectantly. “He must have slipped ‘em.”

“Is that possible?” Carol asked, stepping forward.

“Could have dislocated his wrist.” Iris suggested. “Doesn’t have much to lose.”

“Little runt couldn’t even pinch himself without screaming bloody murder.” Daryl replied.

“The door was secured from the outside.” Hershel observed, flicking the gold lock.

“Rick! Rick!” Shane yelled suddenly, storming out from the forest.

“What happened?” Lori asked. It was a good question. His face was bloodied, his nose obviously broken. It was spattered all over his shirt, his hands.

“He’s armed!” Shane replied. “He’s got my gun!”

“Are you okay?” Carl asked, worried.

“I’m fine. Little bastard just snuck up on me, clocked me in the face.”

“Alright. Hershel, T-Dog, get everybody back in the house. Glenn, Daryl, Iris, come with us.” Rick ordered, pulling out his pistol and meeting Shane halfway.

“Just let him go. That was the plan, wasn’t it? To just let him go?” Carol asked.

“The plan was to cut him loose far away from here. Not on our front step with a gun.” Rick replied shortly. Iris frowned. She watched as Shane took a gun from T-Dog, glancing back at the forest where he emerged. There was no way. It just wasn’t believable. Yet, everyone around her was immediately in fight or flight. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Don’t go out there, y’all know what can happen!” Carol warned.

“Get everybody back in the house. Lock all the doors and stay put!” Rick ordered. Iris adjusted her knife belt as they stalked off into the woods.

“I saw him head up through the trees that way before I blacked out.” Shane explained, gesturing. “I’m not sure how long.”

“Couldn’t have gotten far. He’s hobbled, exhausted.” Rick replied.

“And armed.” Glenn stated.

“So are we.” Rick replied.

“Can you track him?” Rick asked Daryl.

“No, I don’t see nothing.” He replied, frowning into the dirt.

“Hey, look, there ain’t no use in tracking him, okay? He went that way. We just need to pair up.” Shane stated firmly. Iris raised an eyebrow. Suspicious motherfucker. “We spread out, we just chase him down, that’s it.”

“Okay, this is ridiculous. I’m not combing through the forest for this kid when you probably left him dead in a ditch somewhere.” Iris spat, facing Shane.

“Then go on back, princess, we don’t need you.” He huffed. 

“Kid weighs a buck-twenty-five soaking wet. You trying to tell us he got the jump on you?” Daryl asked, frowning at him.

“I’d say a rock pretty much evens those odds, wouldn’t you?” Shane asked, tilting his head. Iris rolled her eyes.

“Alright, knock it off. You three start heading up the right flank. Me and Shane’ll take the left.” Rick interjected. “Remember, Randall’s not the only threat out there. Keep an eye out for each other.”

“You too.” Iris replied pointedly, earning a frustrated snort from Shane. He and Rick stalked off in one direction, leaving them to the other.

Daryl led the way, even as the sun set, through the woods. He was searching for tracks along the way, leaving Glenn to shiver nervously behind him. Iris was in the back, sharp eyes glancing ahead for any movement. She’d killed two walkers with throwing knives so far. Frogs and crickets accompanied their footsteps through dried leaves, but other than that, it was dead quiet.

“This is pointless. You’ve got a light?” Daryl asked, turning around. Glenn handed him a flashlight as they stopped, Daryl fanning the light around the ground. He sighed irritatedly when nothing revealed itself. “C’mon.” They continued walking, looking for any signs of life. 

“I think Shane’s gonna try to kill Rick.” Iris murmured.

“What?” Glenn asked nervously, glancing between her and Daryl.

“Wouldn’t put it past ‘im.” Daryl replied. “Got us looking for hay in a haystack.”

“We’re back to square one, anyway.” Iris noted, looking around.

“If you’re gonna do a thing, you might as well do it right.” Daryl stated. 

“How could you think Shane’ll try to kill Rick?” Glenn asked.

“Because he tried to before.” Iris replied. They both turned back to her in surprise. “Dale caught him. Shane threatened to kill him, too.”

“Mm.” Daryl grunted. “Keep sharp.”

“Jesus.” Glenn mumbled to himself. They continued on for a little while before Daryl caught something.

“There’s two sets of tracks right here. Shane must’ve followed him a lot longer than he said.” He mused. Iris hummed.

“Blood.” She pointed out. Daryl shone the flashlight on the edge of a tree, where a smear of blood caught their attention. Somewhat nose-shaped, she’d argue.

“More tracks.” Daryl continued, pointing the flashlight at the ground. “Looks like they’re walking in tandem.” A bird called in the distance, startling Glenn into walking into Daryl.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. He was practically shaking in his boots. Iris put a hand on his shoulder.

“There’s a little dust up right here.” Daryl murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean something went down.” He continued. They followed the tracks with the light until they spotted Randall’s blindfold on the ground. “Had a little trouble…” A branch snapped behind them and the three of them ducked behind a group of trees. Just a walker. Daryl tossed Glenn the flashlight, gripping his crossbow.

They waited until it got closer, shambling through the dark toward them. Glenn spun out from behind the tree and shone the light in its face. It snarled in response, lunging at him. Glenn cried out as it shoved him to the ground. Daryl shot an arrow but his aim was wide and the walker too close. Daryl grunted as it practically collapsed on top of him, the crossbow the only thing in between its teeth and Daryl’s neck.

Iris kicked it sideways, finding the flesh hard. The walker was new. As in, newly dead. It fell to the side, snarling before she stabbed her knife into its brain. The noises stopped, as did its movement, and Glenn shone the flashlight down into his face. Randall. That was that. Grimacing, Iris pulled the knife from it’s skull.

“Nice.” Glenn breathed.

“We should check how he died.” Iris murmured, kneeling down beside Randall’s body. Daryl took the flashlight from Glenn, joining her. He poked and prodded the body, checking for wounds, but didn’t find anything until the neck. A decent-size protuberance indicated a broken bone.

“Got his neck broke.” Daryl stated, frowning. He flipped him over, double checking. “Got no bites.”

“Yeah, none you can see.” Glenn replied.

“No, I’m telling you. He died from this.” Daryl said assuredly, gesturing to the broken neck.

“So, what? He just… turned?” Iris murmured. 

“How is that possible?” Glenn asked. They all glanced to one another before standing, leaving Randall’s body for the crows. 

They began making their way back before a shot rang out. They started running, making their way back to the farm as quick as they could, but they’d be a while regardless. After a few minutes, there was another shot. Any walkers nearby could have heard it. They picked up the pace.

-

They made it back to the house rather quickly, finding the group sitting around the living room waiting for them. Rick and Shane were not there.

“Rick and Shane ain’t back?” Daryl asked, voicing Iris’ concern. What were those shots?

“No.” Lori replied. 

“We heard a shot.” Iris said, frowning.

“Maybe they found Randall.” Lori suggested.

“We found him.” Daryl stated.

“Is he back in the shed?” Maggie asked.

“He was a walker.”

“Did you find the walker that bit him?” Hershel asked.

“He wasn’t bit.” Iris replied. “That’s the weird part.”

“His neck was broke.” Daryl added.

“So he fought back.” Patricia gleaned.

“The thing is, Shane and Randall’s tracks were right on top of each other. Shane ain’t no tracker, so he didn’t come up behind him. They were together.” Daryl explained.

“Would you please get back out there, find Rick and Shane and find out what on Earth is going on?” Lori pleaded.

“You got it.” Daryl nodded. Iris squeezed Lori's shoulder as she followed after Daryl. They were barely a step off the porch before the groaning and snarling from the field stopped them in their tracks. The whole farm was littered with walkers, on their way to the house. Iris turned around to the door, finding Glenn standing and seeing the same thing they were. He turned around to tell the others. “A herd this size will rip the house down.” Daryl murmured.

“We gotta get the hell out of here.” Iris replied.

“Carl’s gone.” Lori said, bursting through the door.

“What?” Daryl asked, turning around.

“He— he was upstairs. I can’t find him anymore.” She panted. “He’s supposed to be upstairs. I’m not leaving without my boy.”

“We’re not. We’re gonna look again, we’re gonna find him.” Carol assured, pulling Lori back inside. Iris ran a hand through her hair. She stopped halfway through the motion, instead tying it up tight, putting on her bandana. They’d have some shit to wade through, she gathered.

The others came out, gathering on the porch. Hershel and Andrea filtered through the guns, handing them out.

“Maggie.” Glenn stated with wide eyes, glancing at her in question.

“You grow up country, you learn a thing or two.” She stated, cocking a shotgun.

“I got the number, it’s no use.” Daryl warned Hershel.

“You can go if you want.” The old man replied firmly.

“You’re gonna take ‘em all on?”

“We have guns. We have cars.” He answered simply, cocking his own shotgun.

“We should kill as many as we can.” Andrea shrugged. “We can use the cars to lead the rest of them off the farm.”

“This isn’t… We’ll die here.” Iris stated, alarmed at the fact that they weren’t already driving away.

“Are you serious?” Daryl asked.

“This is my farm. I’ll die here.” Hershel replied.

“Alright. It’s a good a night as any.” Daryl shrugged, swinging his legs over the porch railing. Iris grabbed his arm.

“You’re not serious.” She said with wide eyes. 

“I ain’t leavin’ ‘em all to die alone. Are you?” He asked quietly. Iris exhaled shakily.

“I suppose not.” She replied, grabbing one of the rifles. She followed him to the cars, everyone filing into the vehicles, bringing their absolute essentials. Of course, Iris had all of her essentials on her person at all times, but it was something you learned along the way.

“C’mon.” Daryl jerked his chin toward his bike.

“You sure?” Iris asked. He made a face at her and she shrugged, getting on the back of the bike. As they pulled away, the barn erupted into flames, drawing walkers left, right and centre. Daryl pulled right up to the fence outside the barn, standing and pulling out his gun. Iris climbed up onto the back of the bike, hooking her feet into the frame for a higher vantage point.

They unloaded onto the walkers around the barn, bodies dropping like flies. The others drove around the fences, passengers half out of the windows with their shotguns and rifles. Even Jimmy was hanging out of the RV window with a pistol.

“’s move.” Daryl called over his shoulder. Iris climbed down, swinging the gun over her shoulder as she grabbed hold of him. He drove over to the RV and called out to Jimmy. “Must have been Rick or Shane who started that fire. Maybe they’re trying to get out back. Why don’t you circle around? Go!”

“Got it!” Jimmy replied, taking off. As exposed as the bike was, it was agile. They weaved through the field, taking down walkers one by one, and at one point Iris flipped herself around so she could shoot backward. Hershel was standing on the front lawn with his shotgun, but they were barely making a dent. They had to go.

The RV stopped at the barn, but it hadn’t started moving again. Jimmy must have been overrun. Iris watched as the pickup truck pulled off the farm, followed by the SUV. They were leaving. 

“Daryl.” Iris called over the noise. They both looked around at the swarms, knowing it was over. They might have called this place home, in another life. Yet now…

“We’re goin’.” He nodded, pulling away from the farm. The groans, snarls, and the sounds of the barn burning began to fade into the distance. Iris looked up at the sky, smelling smoke and rot. There was probably nothing left by now. 

Even the dirt roads they drove through were crowded with walkers, but if anything, Daryl knew how to ride. Soon, the sun was rising and they might be on the other side of it. He pulled onto the main highway and soon enough they were close to where they’d left supplies for Sophia. 

Iris let out a breath of relief as she saw Glenn and Maggie following behind them, then T-Dog, Lori, Carol and Beth. They pulled up and Rick, Carl, and Hershel came out from between a few cars. Rick seemed over the moon, shaking hands with Daryl and exchanging nods with Iris.

“Oh, thank god!” Lori cried, running over and sweeping her son into her arms, Rick holding them both close. Maggie practically leapt onto Hershel, Beth joining them. 

“Where’s the rest of us?” Daryl asked, looking around at the group. Iris hugged Carol tight, glad to see she was okay and making sure to thank her, particularly, for the sewing job on her bandana. 

“We’re the only ones who made it so far.” Rick replied quietly.

“Shane?” Lori asked. Rick shook his head. 

“Andrea?” Glenn asked.

“She saved me, then I lost her.” Carol murmured.

“We saw her go down.” T-Dog stated, shaking his head.

“Patricia?” Hershel asked.

“They got her too.” Beth said quietly, gripping onto her father’s jacket. “Took her right in front of me. I was— I was holding onto her, daddy, she just… what about Jimmy, did you see Jimmy?”

“He was in the RV. It got overrun.” Rick explained softly.

“You definitely saw Andrea?” Carol asked to make sure.

“There were walkers everywhere.” Lori shook her head.

“Did you see her?” No one said anything.

“We could go back.” Daryl stated, stepping toward his bike.

“No.” Rick shook his head.

“We can’t just leave her.” He protested.

“We don’t even know if she’s there.” Lori stated.

“She isn’t there. She isn’t. She’s somewhere else, or she’s dead. There’s no way to find her.” Rick said firmly.

“So we’re not even gonna look for her?” Glenn asked.

“How would we even start? It’s not like how we—“ Iris stopped herself before she mentioned Sophia. “It’s not like before.”

“We have to keep moving.” Rick decided. “There have been walkers crawling all over here.”

“I say head East.” T-Dog suggested.

“Stay off the main roads.” Daryl added. They looked up as a walker growled in the distance, hobbling toward them. “The bigger the road, the more walkers, more assholes like this one. I got him.” He shot an arrow through its eye, quick and painful. 

They all agreed together that it was the best course of action. So, they got back into their cars, or in Daryl and Iris’ case, on the bike, and followed Rick as he drove down the highway. East.

-

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