#she hated them with her full chest and i respect that

[azurecanary]

Absolutely obsessed with Daisy's attitude towards Deke in the last three seasons, cause same girl same

Same goes with her pure hatred of Ward in the back end of Season 1 and the following seasons

[drdemonprince]

If you’ve never been all that disobedient before, you can and should start really, really small. For example, you can wear the slightly revealing or gloriously trashy-looking garment that makes your mom roll her eyes and sigh despondently every time she sees you put it on. You will feel judged and disapproved of when you put it on, but that is fine. Your goal is to sit with the uncomfortable feelings and continue with your desired behavior anyway.  Saunter down the steps in that highlighter-yellow Garfield crop top with your chest hair flowing over the neckline, and harness as much courage as you can muster. It’s okay if you feel like a beacon of sin. Just keep it moving. Your emotions are not the target here. Your behavior is. You can feel however you are feeling in the moment so long as you keep acting like you’re free.  Do you have a favorite TV show that a partner or roommate vocally hates? Try watching that show around them without apologizing or defensively joining them in mocking the program. At first, you probably won’t be able to enjoy the show while in their presence. You’ll feel self-conscious about everything they find annoying or cringe-inducing about the show, and so focused on their reactions that you can’t relax. That’s okay. Allow those feelings of embarrassment and guilt to exist and pass through you without giving up. In time, you will be able to ignore these reactions more, and enjoy the activity.  You want to see the needle of discomfort moving down just a little, like Link’s body temperature meter in Tears of the Kingdom when he puts on a breathable outfit in a hot climate. You’re not gonna go from roiling hot to frosty cold in an instant. But after a certain point, you won’t be actively in pain anymore. Things are just gonna slowly suck less, bit by bit, until they are finally okay. That’s true of most major life adjustments, I find.  Probably the best way to develop self-advocacy skills while growing in your distress tolerance is simply by telling other people no. Do this without explanation or hedging. Nitpicky aunt wants to hear all about your dating life? “No, I don’t want to talk about that.” Unreliable ex-friend wants you to do them the tiny favor of moving their entire home gymnasium into a new third story walk-up? “No, I’m not available.” Manipulative shift supervisor wants to cajole you into sticking around for another three hours to close? “No.”  As many advice columnists smarter than me have already intoned, “no” is a complete sentence. “No” requires no explanation. “No” is not subject to debate. “No” can be repeated over and over like a broken record if a disrespectful person acts like they can’t hear it. And you can walk away at any time to make your “no” physical and impossible to argue with, when someone has proven they don’t respect your boundaries. 

you can read or listen to the full piece for free here

[the-froschamethyst4]

Young Gf and Older bf

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Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons

SFW & NSFW

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SFW

Older bf! Simon who didn’t know how he felt about having a younger girlfriend

Older bf! Simon who was getting called “old man” by his girlfriend

Older bf! Simon who learned the hard way that some girls have expensive taste

Older bf! Simon who doesn’t talk much about his girlfriend to his mates, he feels like they’ll get on his ass about dating a young girl

Older bf! Simon who did most of the chores around the house

Older bf! Simon who stopped caring what he wore in front of people because his girlfriend is his little hype-man

“Does this work?” Simon asks coming into his shared bedroom with his girlfriend, she rolls on her side to look at him.

“They don’t match your shoes, Si.”

“What?” He looks down. “I thought they did.”

“Here, go try this on and come back at out.”

Older bf! Simon who told his girlfriend about his time in the military

Older bf! Simon who forget how young his girlfriend is, so when he makes jokes or says a movie reference she doesn’t know what he is talking about

Older bf! Simon who was honestly scared to meet his girlfriend’s family. She told them about Simon being older but not how old he was

“And how old are you, Simon?” Her dad asked leaning forward.

“I’m…40”

“40!!”

“Y/N?!”

“What?! He treats me good, he respects me, guys my age want that trad wife, Simon doesn’t, I can do or say what I want around him and feel good about myself.”

Older bf! Simon who knows everything about you. How you like your coffee, what time you’re suppose to be up for work, and he even knows when you’re about to start your period, you know when he shows up at home with bags full of pads and tampons and her favorite foods and drinks

Older bf! Simon who starts watching shows with you but complains about them but deep down he actually likes to watch them with his girlfriend

NSFW

Older bf! Simon who woke up to you in t-shirts and no shorts or pants, he likes seeing you in a t shirt and panties

Older bf! Simon who has woken up to morning wood before and needed help to get rid of it

“Love,” he kisses the shell of her ear. “Love…wake up,” he coos.

“Hmm~ Simon, not now please.”

“I know, love, you don’t have to do anything,” Simon lines himself up at her entrance and pushes himself into her

Older bf! Simon who like after argument sex

“Fuck you!”

“Oh yeah? Fuck me?” Simon carries a smirk on his face.

“Back up, Simon,” Y/n says putting her hand up on his chest to keep distance.

“Fuck me right? Fuck me?”

“Wait, wait,” your legs didn’t work for a few weeks

Older bf! Simon who tries different things with you, like BDSM you both hated it because it’ll be painful for you and Simon didn’t like you hurt

DDLG, he knows the age gap between you two but he hates the word ‘daddy’ makes him cringe

Mask kink, you both loved it, giving the illusion you were being fucked by someone else and he liked feelings your hands in his face

Voice kink, you liked it because of his deep voice already, he was on the fence, not saying your voice is annoying or anything he just didn’t get it

Knife play, you got scared when he accidentally dropped the knife and it was very close to your hand, it was the same thing with gun play you were afraid something wrong might happen

He tried to be a sub but you could barely take it seriously

Older bf! Simon who has fucked you when you were doing your work, you worked in a private office and all he had to do was shut and lock the door and bend you over your own desk

Older bf! Simon who is handsy when he’s horny

“Simon what do you want?”

“I want nothing,” he says as one of his hands were on your waste and the other snacks up to your breasts giving you a gentle squeeze and you gave him a soft moan.

“Just do it already, Simon,” she moans

Older bf! Simon who has kept a pair of your panties in his pockets and has forgotten about them before, he remembers when he accidentally sticks his hand into his pocket and feels the lace

Older bf! Simon who bought a motorcycle and takes you with him as his backpack, he found a abandoned place were no one comes to and you two had a good fuck on his bike

[firelilyfox]

Deadly Eyes

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort

If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate

Words: 1k

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You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 

Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 

„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 

A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 

You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 

Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 

„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 

„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 

The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 

„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 

A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 

„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 

„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 

„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 

You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 

For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 

Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 

The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 

„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 

„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 

„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 

Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 

„And you did.“ 

He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 

„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 

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Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3

[authorhjk1]

Home

Mother and Daughter

(Kwon Eunbi X Winter X Male Reader)

With tears in her eyes, Minjeong quickly unlocks the front door. She hates it. She hates school. She hates the other girls. She hates the guys. She just hates it!

"Welcome home, dear!"

"Hi mom."

Minjeong is able to hold back a sniffle as she heads to her room. Her mother, busy with making dinner, had her back turned towards her. When she turns around, expecting her daughter to tell her about her day, she is surprised that she already left.

Inside her room, Minjeong throws her backpack onto the bed. With clenched fists, she kicks a dirty sock under her bed. Why does she have to watch this shit everyday? A boy and a girl messing around during the break? Both of them sharing meaningful glances in class?

"Argh!"

Minjeong stops herself from kicking her bed. She tries to calm herself down by taking deep breaths. This wasn't the first time she had to watch one of her friends make out with a guy from school. So why did it bother her so much today?

She shakes her head in annoyance. What does her friend has that she doesn't? Isn't Minjeong funny? Isn't she polite and caring? Isn't she pret-

Minjeong's eyes fall on the mirror. Is that it? She sees her sad face in the reflection of the clean glass. Is she unable to find a boyfriend, because she isn't pretty enough?

"Oh man!"

Minjeong lets herself fall face first onto the bed.

What is she supposed to do then? All her friends are bragging about boyfriends and...and... and sex...

Minjeong shakes her head. That's exactly the reason why she finally wants to have her first time! She hates feeling this way! She blushes when it's a topic of a conversation. She wants to know how it feels.

Raising her head slightly, she glances at the mirror again. What is it with her? She is desperately trying to ignore the obvious. The thing, or rather things, she can't change.

She is, well, naturally pretty, if you can call it that. Rather cute than sexy, but that isn't so bad. Is it?

Minjeong's eyes finally land on her cleavage. That must be the problem. She hates her chest. Why does she have to be so small? She sometimes hears the guys talking about the girls in her class. Allegedly they even made a list, ranking all the girls.

"I'm definitely last."

Minjeong groans in annoyance.

Why isn't she growing bigger? Her friends all look way better than her. Especially Karina. She is Minjeong's best friend. But in moments like these, Minjeong hates her guts. Why does Karina have it all? A beautiful, sexy face, a big chest, full thighs, a round ass.

"What is wrong with me?"

Minjeong kicks her legs into the mattress, feeling like the ugliest girl in the world.

"Minjeong-ie!"

She hears her mom knock on her door.

"What is it, ma?"

"I made us dinner, sweetie."

"A minute!"

Minjeong tries to pull herself together. Looking at the mirror again, she checks if her eyes have become red from crying.

Eunbi watches her daughter sit down on the other side if the table.

"Are you doing alright, honey?"

"I'm fine, mom."

Eunbi raises an eyebrow in suspicion, but she doesn't pressure her. At least not now. She has always taught Minjeong and her brother to respect other people's boundaries, so she always leads by example.

But throughout the unusual quiet meal, Eunbi starts to become more concerned about her daughter's condition. Minjeong just pokes at the meat on her plate, instead of actually eating it. How is she supposed to cheer up her daughter?

You come to mind.

"Are you excited for tomorrow, Minjeong-ie?"

"Tomorrow?"

Minjeong raises an eyebrow in confusion. She doesn't even remember what day it is, too busy thinking about how to become more attractive. Should she eat more? That way she could make her chest a little bigger maybe. But she doesn't want to get called fat at school. It's a dilemma.

"What day is tomorrow?"

"It's the 10th."

Eunbi gives Minjeong a meaningful look.

The tenth...

"(Y/n) oppa!"

Minjeong is suddenly smiling brightly. She almost forgot that you would come home tomorrow. After not having seen you in person for almost half a year, Minjeong is longing to hug you for hours, once you are back.

"Exactly."

Eunbi smiles as well, happy to see her daughter being finally in a good mood.

"He will come home late though, so you will see him on the day after tomorrow."

"But..."

"No but. You have school."

That's something Eunbi always prioritizes. School. It sucks for Minjeong. She hates school. But she gets why her mother has that obsession with school.

After her husband left her, Eunbi had to take care of both of you, while needing to find a job as well. Because she didn't go to college or anything, it was hard for her to find a well paying job. Once you were old enough, you started working at a sporting goods shop, having been interested in soccer and sports, since you can remember.

You were able to help your step mom out enough to make up at least a little bit of the damage your father had left. But your already bad grades started to suffer even more. And eventually, you dropped out of school.

That's why Minjeong doesn't argue further with Eunbi about staying up late and welcoming you. It's not like you are gonna run away, before she can even see you.

"Talking about school... How is it going?"

Eunbi rests her chin on her hand, looking at her daughter.

"I-It's alright."

Eunbi notices how Minjeong is suddenly very interested in the food in front of her.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Everything is great, mom."

Minjeong manages to smile at her, before looking down again.

"And how is it going with your love life?"

Eunbi winks at her sheepishly.

"Mom!"

"What?"

Minjeong looks at her puzzled mother, embarrassed that she was going to take it out on her.

Eunbi always told the both of you to be open minded and always listen to other people's perspectives. And that includes relationships as well.

"I-I don't have anyone."

"Oh, that's alright, sweetie. You are still so young."

"No I'm not. (Y/n) is only a year older than me. And Karina and the others all have boyfriends already."

"That's true."

Eunbi nods, now realizing where her daughter's sour mood might come from. But that's not something she can actively help her with as her mother. Respecting Minjeong's boundaries, Eunbi decides to not press her further. If she needs advice or someone to talk to, Minjeong knows that Eunbi will be there for her either way.

While Eunbi starts doing the dishes, Minjeong goes back to her room to finish her homework. Math. Something she could totally live without.

As she tries to read the next task for the next problem, her mind seems to be somewhere else.

"Come on."

Minjeong grumbles, annoyed with herself.

She eventually finishes her homework. Later than she hoped though. Realizing that she has to go bed now, because of school tomorrow, Minjeong starts to get ready for bed.

Debating on what pajama to put on, she looks around her closet. They all look ugly to her today. She really hates this. How can she be sexy, if she doesn't even have sex clothes?

Suddenly Minjeong feels this tingly excitement creeping up, when she remembers the purchase she made a month ago. Today isn't the first time she hated her body. It's more like an every day occurrence. But the last time it was this bad, Minjeong got herself something to make her feel better about herself.

She takes her chair from the desk and puts it in front of her wardrobe. Her mom is not gonna come into her room today anymore, already having said good night. Minjeong gets on the chair and then on her tip toes, trying to reach the parcel at the back.

Once she got her hands on it, Minjeong opens it, taking out the underwear that's hidden inside. She is so glad that she was able to buy it online. If she would've had to buy it in a store, she probably wouldn't have had the confidence to do so.

A smile creeps onto her face as Minjeong puts the box back to its rightful place, before starting to put on the lingerie. Karina told her once that she got something similar in black for her boyfriend. Hers is peach colored though. She feels the smooth fabric hug her skin as she slowly puts it on. After a couple of moment, she checks herself out in the mirror.

White stockings wrap around her slim legs, making her look a little thinner than she usually does. The peach garter belt around her hips is actually more of a tiny skirt. Minjeong is able to see a hint of her lace panties, even without needing to lift it up. The small bow in the front is a little darker than the rest. The same goes for the short strings that connect her belt and her stockings. Minjeong's stomach is fully exposed and she can't help but let a hand wander over it. She is proud of at least that part of her body. Not everyone looks as fit as she does. But the bra still looks a little too big for her.

Minjeong sighs in disappointment. It has the same lace patterns as the skirt, but she is unable to fill it completely. Why doesn't she have her mother's genes? She always envies her. Her mother has had a couple of boyfriends throughout the years. They were all unable to focus, whenever Eunbi wore a low cut top. But why can't Minjeong be like this? She wants to turn all the boys' heads in class, when she enters the classroom.

But looking into the mirror a little longer, Minjeong realizes that she isn't as ugly as she thought she is. She might not have the biggest chest. But apart from that...

Minjeong gets on the bed, finally, at least a little bit, comfortable in her own skin. She mindlessly lets a finger run along the straps of her bra, looking up at the ceiling. Her naked thighs slowly start to rub together. Suddenly, Minjeong is horny. She doesn't even remember what she thought about a moment ago, after she lied down. But the increasing heat in her lower area makes her reach out for her laptop on the desk.

With shaky fingers, Minjeong types in the address of the porn side she usually goes to. It always feels wrong and dirty, whenever she opens it. But she can't stop.

Minjeong scans the home page, looking at the new videos that came out, after she watched something last time. Her cursor finds itself on a video she hasn't watched before.

Once the video starts, Minjeong quickly skips past the annoying scenes of the woman, showing off her body. She reaches the point where the guy fucks her doggy style. Minjeong watches how the woman's tits sway with every thrust. Jealous, but turned on even more, Minjeong finds her right hand rubbing her lace panties. She is wishing so desperately to be that woman. She finally wants to get fucked like her. She wants to be able to tell everyone that she isn't a virgin anymore.

Eunbi yawns as she steps out of the bathroom. She feels small butterflies in her stomach, thinking about you, coming home tomorrow. She hasn't talked to you properly in so long. She wants to tell you how proud she is. What a great man you've become.

Wondering what the two of you should do together during your stay, Eunbi passes Minjeong's room. She stops in her tracks, when she hears light moaning.

"Fuck my little pussy harder!"

She furrows her eyebrows. That's not Minjeong, is it? Is that why she disappeared so quickly into her room when she came home? Is this the reason, why she acted like this during dinner? Is she hiding her boyfriend from her?

Eunbi is disappointed. She hoped that, when the time comes, Minjeong would tell her about everything. Curiosity slowly starts to creep in.

"Maybe just a quick peek."

She slowly turns the doorknob, before looking inside.

"Mom!"

Minjeong is thrown out of her blissful moment, when she hears the door crack open. Horrified by realizing that her mother just saw her masturbate, she quickly closes the laptop and covers herself with her sheets.

"Baby..."

"Go away, mom!"

"There is nothing wrong with doing this, Minjeong-ie."

The young girl's cheeks flush red. This must be one of the most embarrassing moments of her live.

"I-Please leave."

"Minjeong-ie, I want to us to be as close as we've always been. You don't have to be ashamed by what you are doing. It's totally normal."

"R-Really?"

"Yes. I do it too."

"Mom!"

Minjeong covers her ears, not wanting to hear about her mother's sexy life.

"Don't be so childish. We can talk about this like adults."

Eunbi finally opens the door completely, before stepping inside.

"You look really pretty by the way."

She slowly walks over to Minjeong.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

With a warm smile, Eunbi sits down on the edge of the bed.

"The colour matches your skin really well. And your body is just perfect. I'm still surprised you haven't found anyone yet."

"Mom..."

Minjeong seems more sad than embarrassed now.

"I-No one likes me. I'm not pretty enough."

"How could you say something like that?"

Eunbi's heart brakes as she gasps in surprise.

"You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen. You are by far better looking than all the girls your age."

"Oh please, mom. I will never be as hot as you."

Eunbi can't help but feel a little warm inside at her daughter's compliment.

"Don't say that. Everyone is pretty in their own way. Tell me something that I have that you don't. I'm sure you can't-"

"Y-Your chest."

Minjeong's shy comment makes Eunbi look down on herself. She glances back at her daughter, who is lying on the bed, looking up at her with a sad look on her face.

"Oh come on, Minjeong-ie. Yours aren't as small as you think."

Eunbi reaches out and feels her daughter's tits.

"They are maybe not as big as mine, but bigger doesn't always mean better."

"It does."

Eunbi shakes her head.

"You are not ugly, just because you don't have a big chest. Your face is so gorgeous. And you take so much care of your body."

"You are lying. You could sleep with any guy you want. The guys in my class won't even look at me."

"You are lying to yourself. Who wouldn't want to be intimate with a girl like you?"

Eunbi cups Minjeong's cheek with affection.

"Everyone it seems like. No one likes how I look."

"That's rubbish."

Eunbi unconsciously lets her hand wander over Minjeong's body.

"If you think no one is paying attention, you have to dress a little more provocatively. Your own body is not the problem."

"You mean dress more sexy?"

"Exactly."

Eunbi takes another look at her daughter's outfit.

"This lingerie looks so good on you. Anyone would want you."

"But I can't walk around in lingerie at school, can I?"

"That's true, honey. Why don't I show you tomorrow how I dressed, when I went to school? It was good enough for your father, you know?"

Eunbi winks at her daughter playfully, her hand resting on her midriff.

"Fine. But can you please leave now? I-I want-need to..."

Minjeong trails off. Still embarrassed to voice her need for pleasure.

"Of course, baby. But don't watch stuff like this. It can make you addicted and it's just not how sex works."

"Then how am I supposed to..."

Minjeong's cheeks redden once more.

"Just think about a guy you like. Or something you want to experience."

"What do you think about, when... when you, you know?"

Eunbi ponders for a moment. She would've said that she takes herself back to the best moments of her own sex life. But that would hit a nerve right now. She is finally on the same wavelength with her daughter. She doesn't want to give that up now.

"I think about actors, or singers, you know? Maybe a guy I've met in the mall. Something like this."

"And what do you imagine doing with them?"

"Well..."

Eunbi thinks for a moment, if this isn't a little too much. But she finally decides to be honest.

"I usually just imagine them having sex with me. I usually start by kissing. And then, they ea-eat me out, you know?"

Eunbi can't help but be a little shy as well. This is the first time she talking about how she pleasures herself. With her daughter no less.

"I wish I knew how that felt."

Minjeong's confession makes Eunbi's heart ache.

"And how do you, you know?"

Minjeong rests her hand on her own panties. Eunbi can't help but notice the proportions of her hips and waist. How is her daughter not getting laid 24/7?

"Well, I sometimes use toys. But I usually do it with my hand, like anyone else."

"I see."

Minjeong looks away, but Eunbi feels like there is more she would like to know.

"I sometimes have trouble fin-finishing. Especially without the videos. C-Can you maybe show me?"

Her daughter's desperate eyes make it impossible for Eunbi to say no.

"Of course, baby. Give me some room."

Minjeong scoots to the right side of the bed as Eunbi starts to rid herself off her jeans. The younger one can't help but stare in envy at her mother's body. Every part of her seems to be made for perfection. Minjeong can't find a single flaw on her mother's body.

When she slowly pulls down her black panties, Minjeong takes in the sight of her mothers vagina. A weird feeling overcomes her. Is that where I came from?

It weird to think about it, so she brushes the thought away, when Eunbi finally sits next to her. Both of them rest their heads against the wall behind her bed.

"You have to warm up yourself first. So don't go in immediately. Start by teasing yourself."

Minjeong watches her mother as she starts to play with herself. Her fingers circling around her snatch and around her clit as well. She let's her own hand wander down her body, until it disappears inside her panties. She tries to mimick her mother's movements.

"Try to find something that feels good for you. I usually do this."

Eunbi forms a V with her pointer finger and middle finger, using it to slide up and down along her clit. Minjeong follows her movements once more. A deep sigh escapes her mouth at the new found feeling.

"That's the part where you start to think about someone. Think about a guy you like. How the two of you would kiss."

The both of them start to enter their own worlds, lying side by side. Minjeong catches herself altering the shape of her mouth as she imagines herself kissing the hottest guy at school. Karina's boyfriend.

"Once you are ready for the next step, start to push your fingers inside of you. You should be wet enough by now."

Eunbi follows her own words, letting two of her fingers enter her snatch. A deep moan escapes her mouth as she thinks about the last time she had sex. Meanwhile, Minjeong winces as she tries to put two fingers inside of her as well.

"M-Mom. It's not really working."

"Are you not doing it right? Let me try."

Without thinking, Eunbi lets her own fingers slip out of her, before she reaches inside Minjeong's panties. Minjeong moves her hand away, feeling her mother's fingers resting on her lower lips.

"If you've never done this before, try one finger at first."

Eunbi sinks a finger into her daughter's pussy.

"Mommy."

Minjeong moans as she feels her mother's finger move inside of her. Her walls tighten as she feels it glide along them.

"You're really tight, baby. Guys like that."

"R-Really?"

The younger one can't help but smile.

"I'm gonna try two fingers now, okay?"

Minjeong nods, watching her mother's hand inside her panties. Another moan escapes her, when a second finger joins the first.

"Oh god."

Another breathless moan escapes Minjeong's mouth. Eunbi told her to imagine herself with a guy she likes, but she is unable to do so. Her whole body and mind are focused on the two fingers inside of her. Minjeong catches herself slowly grinding against her mom's hand, letting out small whimpers.

"That's a good girl."

Eunbi said that a thousand times before. But this time, she feels dirty saying it. She realizes what she is actually doing. She is fingering her own daughter. She watches how Minjeong's eyelids flutter with every stroke of her fingers. How her back slightly arches off the wall. Her thighs rubbing against each other.

"Mommy."

That word sounds so dirty to Eunbi's ears, when Minjeong releases it in another needy moan.

The sight of her daughter shaking and moaning around her fingers proves too much for Eunbi. Her left hand finds its way towards her own pussy. And eventually, she starts to finger herself and her daughter at the same time.

"M-Mommy. This is the-the best."

Minjeong can't help but mewl. Her eyes are still closed, her empty hands trying to hold onto something for stability. Her mind gets overwhelmed by the pleasure that radiates from her mother's fingers inside of her.

Eunbi starts to finger herself faster as she feels her daughter's walls hug her fingers more and more. She has never done something like this with anyone before. The warmth that starts to rush through her body is something different than usual. It awakens something more primal in Eunbi. Her vision becomes a little fuzzy on the edges as she keeps fingering her own daughter.

When she looks at her, she can see Minjeong squirm on her sheets, begging her mother for more. Eunbi licks her lips, feeling the younger girls juices on her fingers. She eventually submits to her urges.

Eunbi removes her fingers from Minjeong's cunt, earning a disappointed and needy moan. She edges herself even more, moving her fingers to her mouth. She tastes her daughter's pussy juices on her finger.

Minjeong's eyes widen, when she sees her mother licking her fingers clean, before she starts to reposition herself. She ends up between Minjeong's legs, pulling down her panties.

"Mommy..."

Even Minjeong herself doesn't know what's going on with her own body. She can't help but buck her hips towards her mother's slightly parted lips, eager to feel another person's mouth on her pussy.

"Please..."

Her needy plea makes Eunbi finally throw all caution out the window. Flattening her tongue, she uses a big swipe along the length of Minjeong's pussy, to lap up her juices. The slightly salty taste hits her taste buds.

Minjeong's hands find themselves in her hair as she holds on for dear life, feeling her mother's tongue exploring her most intimate part.

"Mommy."

She can't help but say that word over and over again.

Eunbi starts to eat out her daughter, succumbing to the pleasure of her fingers, which still move inside her own pussy. The thoughts that tell her how wrong this is are being pushed to the back of her head. Her lust takes over. She wants to show her daughter how this feels like.

Mother and daughter moan in tandem as one eats the other out. While Minjeong's moans echo through the her room, Eunbi's stimulate the younger ones pussy even more. Her humms make her squirm on her sheets.

"So good, mommy."

Minjeong loses herself in a world of unknown pleasure. She has never felt this before. She feels how the warmth, starting out from her pussy, starts to spread through her body. A tingling sensation with it. Almost like waves. They rush through her, elevating her from one plateau to the next. Each gives her another spike of ecstasy. Another idea of what heaven must feel like.

"M-Mommy, I-I..."

Minjeong loses the ability to speak as she also loses control over her body and mind.

Eunbi watches in awe as her daughter orgasms in front of her. Wave after wave rushes through her body from head to toe. Each one stronger than the the previous one. Minjeong's hips lift off the mattress in a failed attempt to contain the pleasure within her.

Minjeong becomes undone in front of her mother's eyes. Eunbi, unable to look away from her daughter's climaxing body, eventually reaches her own high. She buries her face in the mattress. Shame and embarrassment are mixed with raw pleasure and love. She never even thought about doing this with her own daughter.

"Mommy...."

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

Hi guys!

I tried to write something a little different than usual today. I got the idea for this from someone I text with on Wattpad. There will be more chapters for this, I hope you will look forward to them.

Stay healthy!

[nadvs]

omg what if basketball!rafe takes reader out to dinner after a game or something, from sleeping with the enemy’s pleaseee

AHH SO CUTE YES OFC 🙂‍↕️

based on this fic

they keep hooking up after their first night together and rafe is in shock over how good the sex is and how much he enjoys her company. he’s a ‘hit it and quit it’ type of guy but he cannot get enough of her to the point where he can hardly wait for games against her college’s team because it’s a promise that he’ll see her.

one night a few weeks after they start being friends with benefits, his team suffers a loss by a few points against their worst rivals. he’s seething. the result of a game has a crazy effect on him. it always does.

he finds her courtside and while everyone around her is celebrating, she goes still once she notices him approaching her.

“close game,” she says, tilting her head while she looks up at him. at this point, she knows well enough how hard losses hit him.

eyes are on them. she can feel people judging how close she’s gotten to her side of the rivalry’s most hated athlete, but she doesn’t care.

rafe can tell she’s trying to make him feel better. underneath their usual harsh sarcasm and jokey insults, they’re two people who have a friendship built on sincere compatibility.

“your refs should be fired,” he mutters, pissed at how many calls against his opponents were missed. he’s sweaty and breathless from the game, his chest rising and falling at full tilt.

“oh, i’ll personally see to it,” she jokes. he scoffs, hating that he can’t stifle his smile.

“be ready in an hour,” rafe tells her. “i’ll pick you up from your dorm.”

“for what?”

“dinner,” he says assertively.

before he leaves, he pulls her in for a kiss. it’s a bonus that her ex sees. when she told him she wasn’t interested in max anymore, rafe couldn’t believe how relieved he was. he may have lost the game, but he won the girl.

rafe typically lays into his teammates after a bad loss. he’s a harsh captain but the guys respect him for it. but that night, he’s uncharacteristically quiet in the locker room. he’d never admit it to anyone, but knowing he’ll see her after this makes his anger lose its power.

she’s surprised that the restaurant he picked is as elegant as it is. she knows he came from money, but this place is nice. as they settle across from each other in a booth, she’s glad she dressed up.

“i didn’t say this,” she says, looking down at her menu, “but you’re right. the refs missed a lot of travelling on our side.”

“what?” rafe says, amused. “whatever happened to loyalty?”

“i told you i didn’t say anything,” she reiterates.

he taps his knuckles on the tabletop lightly, studying her.

“you don’t have to bullshit me,” he tells her.

“rafe,” she says seriously. “when do we ever bullshit each other?”

he meets her gaze, taking in how pretty she looks tonight. they’re just friends but on the outside, this looks like a date. he doesn’t mind.

“and you need to chill with the pushing,” she tells him. “you almost got fouled out.”

“did i?” he says with a laugh. he knows he did. he finds quite a lot of sick satisfaction in shoving his opponents.

“shut up,” she chuckles. “you won’t be laughing when you get benched.”

“don’t want that,” rafe mumbles. “who will you stare at then?”

“you stare at me,” she replies. “you said it yourself the first night we hooked up.”

“why are you thinking about hooking up right now?” he says, looking around the room. “this is a classy place.”

“you’re annoying as hell,” she laughs. “and for that, i’m ordering the most expensive thing. unless you’re not paying?”

“i’m paying,” he confirms. he doesn’t even want to joke about that. “and i’m coming over after.”

“depends on how this date goes,” she quips, looking back down at the menu.

rafe loves how laidback she is. how she can call it a date, but not expect him to be her boyfriend. it’s so easy with her. no expectations. just fun.

he never felt this good this fast after a loss. he doesn’t ever feel this relaxed with anyone. she may just be his best friend at this point.

she looks up, noticing his eyes on her.

“staring again?” she teases.

just a few seconds ago, she asked when they bullshit each other. they never do. he’d like to stick to that.

“yeah. you look good,” he tells her.

her skin flushes hot. she eyes him, the way the dim lighting washes over the planes of his face, the way he put an effort in tonight, dressing in a button-down instead of the usual t-shirt and sweats he wears whenever they meet for a booty call.

“at the risk of stroking your ego, so do you,” she replies.

“what else d’you wanna stroke?”

“jesus christ,” she laughs, nudging his knee under the table. he smirks.

whatever tense feelings were left over from tonight’s loss are gone now. he’s good. happy, even.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ I can fix him ( No really I can ). ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary:Y/n's obsession with Mattheo was evident; she stalked him everywhere, daydreamed about him, and planned ways to get his attention. However, even though he said he hated her, his actions didn’t quite align with those words.

Warnings: stalker!reader , unhinged!reader,obsessed!reader, misunderstood with anger issues reader too! +16 , strong language.

Words: 4.5k

The air hung thick with the smell of spilled Butterbeer and desperation. Wedged into a corner booth of theLeaky Cauldron, I felt like a fish out of water, albeit a very determined fish. My friends, Lily and Anthony, slumped beside me,faces pale and glassy-eyed.

They were the studious type, the kind who'd rather spend a Friday night poring over Herbology textbooks than navigating the dimly lit chaos of this questionable bar. But here they were, martyrs to my grand plan.

My obsession with Mattheo riddle wasn't a recent development. It had blossomed, nurtured by stolen glances across the Great Hall and late-night eavesdropping during our Hogwarts years. Sure, it bordered on stalkerish – I knew his favorite Quidditch teams, the brand of broomstick polish he swore by, even the obscure runes tattooed discreetly on his forearm. But hey,love knew no bounds, right? Well, at least that's what I kept telling myself.

"Y/N, for Merlin's sake," Lily muttered, her voice barely a whisper above the din of drunken wizard gossip, "can't we please go back to Hogwarts? My eyelids are heavier than a dragon's hide after a full moon."

I shook my head firmly, my gaze scanning the sea of faces. "Not yet," I hissed, the anticipation bubbling in my chest. "He should be here any minute."

"He who?" Anthony mumbled, his head lolling against the worn leather of the booth.

"Mattheo, of course!" I exclaimed, my voice a touch louder than necessary. Heads swiveled in our direction, and I quickly ducked my head, mortified.

"Y/N," Anthony sighed, "I can't believe you dragged us all the way out here for a guy who wouldn't recognize you if you levitated naked in front of him."

"He will," I declared, a stubborn glint in my eyes. "Just wait and see." I straightened my robes, trying to project an air of confidence that I definitely wasn't feeling.

As if on cue, the door to the Leaky Cauldron creaked open, and a wave of boisterous laughter flooded the bar. My breath hitched. There he was. Handsome as sin, his black hair tousled, A mischievous grin playing on his lips. He was everything I ever dreamt of and more.

A collective groan escaped my friends' lips as they followed my gaze.

He scanned the room, his gaze sweeping right past my carefully constructed hiding place. "Oh, lord help her," Lily muttered, her voice laced with a mixture of amusement and resignation.

I forced a dazzling smile, willing him to notice me. But alas, he remained oblivious, his attention captured by a group of giggling witches at the bar.

"Show some respect to my man," I declared, though Mattheo was still blissfully unaware of my existence.

"He's not your man, Y/N," Anthony pointed out, stating the very obvious.

"Not yet," I corrected, my smile widening. "But he will be."

They both shook their heads, exasperation etched on their faces. "Y/N," Lily hissed, her ethereal voice taking on a surprisingly stern tone, "do you have any idea what you're talking about?"

I clamped a hand over her mouth "I can fix him," I whispered, my eyes fixed on Mattheo.

My friends erupted in laughter, the sound harsh and grating in the smoky bar. "No, seriously, I can!" I insisted, but they just kept shaking their heads.

"I can't take this anymore," she declared, her voice ringing clear. "Y/N, you're delusional, and Anthony and I are enabling you. This ends now. We're going back to Hogwarts."

"Fine, go," I muttered, my eyes still glued to Matteo. "But I'm staying for a while."

The Leaky Cauldron door creaked shut behind them, leaving me alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces and swirling rumors. I nursed my lukewarm Butterbeer, stealing glances at Mattheo across the room. He was lost in conversation with his friends, his laughter tinged with an edge I couldn't quite place.

A shadow fell across my table, and I looked up to find a burly wizard with a sly grin. "Mind if I join you, pretty lady? My treat."

I shook my head politely, my gaze still fixed on Mattheo. "Thank you, but I'm waiting for someone."

He persisted, leaning in uncomfortably close. But before I could politely dismiss him again, a loud booming voice cut through the bar's cacophony.

It was Mattheo, his handsome features contorted in a scowl. He said something that made his friends erupted in laughter, egging him on. A secret smile played on my lips. There he was, the same arrogant, trouble-seeking Mattheo I'd known at Hogwarts.

As his laughter died down, his eyes scanned the room, landing me. A flicker of surprise, then recognition, crossed his face.

He nudged his friends aside, striding towards my table with a swagger. Just as he reached me, he punched a nearby table sending the unsuspecting wizard sitting next to me flying in the air. He landed with a thud on a group of unsuspecting patrons, who shrieked in surprise.

My heart hammered in my chest. This was it. The darkness in his eyes – I knew that look. At Hogwarts, it always meant trouble. And with wands banned outside of school grounds, trouble often meant a good old-fashioned fistfight.

Mattheo reached me, his eyes narrowed. He glanced at the groaning wizard on the floor, then back at me. "Is he dead?" I asked, smiling.

My gaze darted between Mattheo and the dazed wizard. The words died in my throat as he grabbed my arms, his grip surprisingly tight.

"Who are you?" he growled, his voice low and menacing.

My carefully crafted facade threatened to crumble. Maybe my years of stalking – stalking? Observing! - hadn't been as effective as I'd hoped.

"Y/N," I stammered, my voice barely a squeak. "We have… two classes together… last year… remember?" I threw out the first things that came to mind, hoping to jog his memory.

He looked at me with raised eyebrows, a skeptical expression etched on his face. But before he could respond, he grabbed my arm again, his grip firm, and pulled me towards the bar's dimly lit exit.

"Okay, that's… kinda kinky," I blurted out. He stopped in his tracks, his mouth agape, as if unsure how to react to my strange comment.

"So… are you kidnapping me?" I continued, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind. I just wanted to know you better!"

He stared at me, incredulous. "A date first, wouldn't you say?" I added, a playful smile on my face.

Instead of replying, he pushed me against a wall, his frustration palpable. "Okay, that's a weird way to propose," I declared, a strange mix of excitement and fear bubbling in my chest. "But yes!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he said, his face inches from mine.

My mind was a whirlwind. He was close, impossibly close, and I couldn't think straight. But then again, I never could when it came to Mattheo Riddle.

"A lot of things," I mumbled, my voice barely audible. "So, which one are we talking about right now?"

His grip on my neck tightened, restricting my breath. Fear finally pierced through the haze of my infatuation. "Who sent you?" he spat. "I know you've been watching me since the beginning of the year. Tell me who sent you, or you're dead."

Dead? He thought I was a stalker, someone sent to spy on him? The truth was far more embarrassing – and much more obsessive. "Ouch," I croaked, trying to lighten the mood. "No one sent me.

He stared at me, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"I love watching people," I blurted out, a lame attempt at an explanation. His hand tightened around my neck, cutting off my air supply. I choked back a gasp, opting not to struggle.

"You are really into a lot of things," I wheezed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"This isn't a damn game," he growled, his face inches from mine. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

"I know," I rasped. "And I'm telling you, no one sent me."

"So you just happen to be everywhere I'm in? Watching my every move is just a coincidence?"

"I do watch you," I confessed, meeting his gaze. The closeness was intoxicating, the scent of his cologne filling my senses.

"I, uh, I like you a lot and…" I stumbled over the words, my voice failing me.

He cut me off with a harsh laugh. "You like me a lot? So you just decide to stalk me?"

"Well, it's not… well, fine, yeah, but it wasn't that creepy, I swear!" I protested, flustered under his scrutiny.

"Go back to the castle. What did you say your name was? Y/N? Go back to the castle, and if I ever, ever saw you doing that again, I won't be this kind."

His words stung, a cold reality check washing over me. Yeah, maybe my grand plan of charming Mattheo hadn't gone exactly as planned.

"What if I don't want to?" I blurted out, blinking back tears I refused to let fall.

He sighed, frustration written all over his face. "Listen here," he said, pointing a finger between us. "This – this is not going to happen. Ever."

"Ever?" I echoed, a tiny voice in my head pleading with me to accept defeat.

He nodded. "Ever."

Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, a ridiculous statement popped out of my mouth.

"Well, I don't think so," I said, a playful smile replacing my tearful expression. "I think one day you'll be so in love with me you'll beg me to be with you."

Matteo's response was a hearty laugh. "Yeah? And what makes you think that?"

"Delusional, maybe?" I replied, mirroring his smile.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he finally released his grip on my neck. "Go back to the castle, Y/N," he repeated, his voice softer now. "I won't say that again."

I nodded, a bittersweet feeling settling in my stomach. "Yes, sir," I quipped, a mischievous glint in my eyes.

"What did you just call me?"

"Sir?" I repeated, a full smile blooming on my face.

"Don't you ever call me that again," he said, pushing his hair back in frustration.

"Fine, fine, I'm going," Stepping back. "But you know," I added, turning back to him, "being controlling isn't very healthy in a relationship." And with that I walked away the look in his eyes enough to make me run for my life.

A week crawled by. Every snide remark from Lily and Anthony about my "delusional crush" felt like another blow to my already bruised ego. Yet, a strange sense of pride bubbled beneath the hurt. I'd talked to Mattheo Riddle, gotten under his skin even. A win, as I kept telling myself.

The first time I saw him in the Great Hall after the bar incident, my heart did a somersault. He was across the room, his usual smirk plastered on his face as he bantered with his friends. But then, our eyes met. His gaze lingered for a fraction of a second longer than felt comfortable, and I quickly looked away, cheeks burning. Had he told his friends about the crazy stalker girl (me)? My stomach twisted in a knot.

Days blurred into one another, punctuated by stolen glances at Matteo in the Great Hall, Potions class, and even the Quidditch pitch (though I swore I wasn't there to see him play). Every time I felt his gaze on me, a wave of nervous excitement followed by a mad dash to the nearest deserted corridor. My behavior was erratic, even by my own standards.

Did that mean anything? Maybe. But probably not.

Dinner was a disaster. Every time I met Matteo's gaze, a jolt of excitement shot through me, followed by a wave of crippling anxiety. My hands trembled as I held my fork, and I managed to knock over my glass of pumpkin juice. A mortified squeak escaped my lips, and I felt the entire hall turn to stare.

I saw Mattheo. He smirked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. My mortification reached new heights.

I whispered to Lily. "I need to get out of here."

She nodded "Go," she mouthed.

Was I crazy? Obsessed? My friends were right. This was ridiculous. I couldn't keep acting like a lovesick fool.

Today professor Flitwick's voice echoed through the Charms classroom, "Today, we'll be practicing the Patronus Charm in pairs! Choose your partners wisely, as teamwork is crucial."

My heart skipped a beat. Partnering with anyone was nerve-wracking, but the thought of working with Mattheo sent a shiver down my spine. Of course, fate seemed to have a twisted sense of humor.

Just as I was about to pair with Anthony, Professor Flitwick called out, "Y/N (L/N) and Mr. Riddle, you'll be a fantastic team!"

Mattheo raised a questioning eyebrow, and I swear, I could hear the unspoken accusation, "Stalking me even into Charms class now?"

I held his gaze, a wry smile playing on my lips. "I swear I had no hand in this. Total coincidence."

Matteo leaned back in his chair, scanning me from head to toe with a slow, infuriating gaze. "Brave, are we?" he drawled, his voice a low rumble.

"I know," I countered, a playful smile tugging at my lips.

"Actually," I continued, unable to resist, "this isn't the first time we've worked together in a class."

He scoffed. "Don't remember."

"Of course not," I muttered, a wry smile playing on my lips. "It was third year, Herbology, Professor Sprout gave us…"

Before I could finish, he cut me off. "Nope, still drawing a blank."

"Right," I said, pushing down a surge of disappointment.

We spent the next hour working on the charm. To Matteo's surprise, I grasped the Patronus concept quickly, flawlessly conjuring a shimmering silver stag. His own attempt sputtered out, a wisp of smoke.

"You're smart," he finally admitted, a surprised glint in his eyes.

"Yeah," I replied, a playful glint in my eyes, "I was a bit of a gifted child."

"Was?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Burnt out," I explained with a shrug. "Turns out being brilliant can be a drag."

A strange silence fell between us. He held my gaze for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features.

"You're so annoying," he finally said, his voice gruff.

"So you keep saying," I retorted, a smile spreading across my face. "And yet, here you are, looking at me like you don't hate my guts."

He averted his gaze, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "I don't like you," he mumbled.

"Whatever," I said, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "We're done, Professor!" I called out, grabbing my bag.

As I turned to leave, I couldn't resist one last look at him. He met my gaze, a smirk playing on his lips.

The following week felt like a bizarre role reversal. After our unexpected partnership in Charms class, Mattheo seemed to be the one doing the observing. It was a subtle shift, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but I felt it like a brand new tattoo – the intensity of his gaze burning into the back of my head whenever I wasn't looking.

It started subtly. During Defense Against the Dark Arts, I caught him staring at me from across the room as Professor Moody droned on about Unforgivable Curses. His gaze lingered a beat too long before he quickly averted his eyes, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

During lunch, I was engrossed in a lively conversation with Lily when I felt a familiar prickle on the back of my neck.Looking up, I saw Mattheo seated at the Slytherin table, a half-eaten sandwich abandoned in his plate . He met my gaze for the briefest of moments before scoffing and turning away to talk to Blaise Zabini.

Today as I trudged back to the castle after visiting Honeydukes. Lost in thought about the latest sugar concoction they were offering, I almost missed him. A flash of dark hair disappearing into the Forbidden Forest, followed by a flicker of red – blood.

My heart hammered in my chest. Was I imagining things? No, it was definitely blood. Curiosity, or perhaps something more, gnawed at me. Ignoring the voice of caution in my head, I veered off the path and followed him.

He emerged from the trees a short distance away, heading towards a small, ramshackle house nestled amidst the thick undergrowth. I watched from behind a large oak, my breath catching in my throat. He stumbled slightly as he reached the door, his face pale and drawn.

I should have turned around then, just left him to his secrets. But something held me rooted to the spot. A primal urge to help, a need to know what was going on.

Taking a deep breath, I approached the house, my hand hovering over the knocker. This was crazy. What if he was hurt? What if he was in trouble with someone dangerous?

The door creaked open before I could knock. Mattheo stood there, his face contorted in a mixture of surprise and anger. There was no mistaking it this time – his face was streaked with blood, and it seemed to be coming from a nasty gash on his forehead. But that wasn't all. Blood stained his clothes in several places, and a dark smear marred his cheek.

He looked like he'd been in a war.

"So, another fight?" I managed, my voice barely a squeak.

"I thought I told you to stop following me," he growled, his voice hoarse.

"I wasn't," I blurted out, ignoring the tremor in my voice. "I was just coming back from Honeydukes, and then I saw you…"

He rolled his eyes, but I could tell the anger was fading, replaced by a weariness that mirrored my own. Taking a chance, I stepped closer, ignoring the frantic beating of my heart.

"Let me help you," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "You can't go back to the castle like that."

He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, with a sigh, he nodded. "There's a first-aid kit in the back," he muttered, stepping aside.

I pushed past him, following his directions, I found the kit and rummaged inside.

Taking a deep breath, I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair. The only light came from a single dusty window, casting long shadows across the room. Mattheo sat on the bed.

Silence hung heavy in the air as I knelt beside him. First, I cleaned the cut on his hand, the antiseptic sting making him wince.

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my shallow breaths. Finally, I reached his face, the most serious injury – a deep gash above his eyebrow.

Gently, I dabbed at the blood with a damp cloth, my movements slow and precise. As I cleaned the wound around his lips, I found myself looking directly into his eyes. They were a dark storm, swirling with emotions I couldn't decipher.

Suddenly, I was acutely aware of my position – kneeling between his legs, my gaze locked with his. "Good boy, all done," I whispered, my voice barely above a squeak. His breath hitched, hot against my face.

Then, a touch. His fingers brushed my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me. We were impossibly close, his gaze flickering between my lips and my eyes.

"What are you doing?" I stammered, barely recognizing my own voice.

"I don't know," he admitted.

Before I could react further, his lips were on mine. igniting a passion that had been building for so long.

His hands moved possessively to my waist, pulling me flush against his body.as our kiss deepened.

He pulled back abruptly, pushing me gently onto the bed.. "You taste so good," he murmured against my lips, his breath hot against my skin. "You’ve been driving me insane."

“ what spell did you cost on me ?”

I couldn't help but smile against his lips. "No spell, just pure chemistry," I whispered back, my fingers tangling in his hair. This was everything I'd imagined and more.

His hands roamed over my body, trailing fire across my skin, igniting a passion that had been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long. "Say you want me to stop," he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

But the words wouldn't come. I arched into his touch, my heart pounding with anticipation. "I don't want you to stop," I urged, my breath hitching as his lips trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

His touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. "I won't," he promised, his voice filled with a hunger that matched my own.

Just then, the world exploded around us. The front door creaked open, throwing harsh sunlight into the dusty room. Mattheo and I scrambled apart, guilt and confusion flooding my face.

"Well, first of all, what the hell? I thought you hated her," Blaise Zabini drawled from the doorway, his eyes wide with surprise. He shifted his gaze to Mattheo, a smirk playing on his lips. "How can you still get energy after that fight, Riddle?"

Heat flooded my cheeks as I scrambled to gather my things. "I have to go," I mumbled, my voice strangled.

Mattheo remained silent, his gaze fixed on me. Did he want me to stay? Did he...?

I couldn't bear to wait for an answer. As I rushed towards the door, I couldn't resist a final act of defiance. Stepping on Blaise's shoe with all my might, I gave him a withering look before exiting the ramshackle house.

I heard Blaise's surprised yelp “ She’s fucking crazy, man” followed by Matteo's low chuckle. A strange sense of satisfaction washed over me.

With a final shove, I pushed the rickety door shut behind me, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Blaise's bewildered face was the last thing I saw before I was plunged into the cool evening air. My cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and a thrilling, exhilarating heat.

The sound of Blaise's voice, laced with confusion, drifted out from the house. "Didn't you say you hated her or something?"

A tense silence followed. Then, I heard it – Mattheo's voice, low and gravelly. I held my breath, straining to hear his answer.

"Yes," he said, a single word that echoed in the stillness of the forest. "I still do."

A wave of disappointment washed over me, so strong it took my breath away. It all meant nothing. He still hated me.

Closing my eyes, I forced myself to move. My legs felt heavy, but I stumbled away from the house, deeper into the darkening forest. Maybe my friends were right. Maybe this whole obsessive crush had been a complete delusion.

The following days were a masterclass in avoidance.My mission was clear – steer far, far away from Mattheo Riddle.

If I saw him sauntering down the hallway, I'd take a sharp turn into the nearest classroom, even if it meant enduring Professor Sprout's droning lecture on Mimbulus Mimbletonia for the fifth time.

Corridors became obstacle courses, as I scanned for his familiar dark hair, taking circuitous routes if I even suspected he might be lurking around a corner.

Tucked away in a secluded corner, surrounded by fragrant lavender and plump pumpkins, I finally pulled out the letter from home.

The familiar parchment felt heavy in my hand. Taking a deep breath, I unfolded the letter and started to read. It was a glowing report on my brother, praising his achievements at the Ministry and lauding his "brilliant mind." A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Of course. My brother, the golden child, the one who could do no wrong.

As I continued reading, the praise seemed to morph into a subtle criticism of me. There was no mention of my academic achievements, no congratulations on my recent Charms O.W.L.s. Just a vague allusion to my "potential" and a gentle reminder to "follow in my brother's footsteps."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the words on the page. Anger bubbled up inside me, hot and fierce. Why were they always so focused on him? Didn't they see me? Didn't they see how hard I tried?

Pushing the frustrations down, I wiped my tears with a vicious swipe.

Just as I was about to crumple up the letter, a familiar voice startled me. "Why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?"

Mattheo stood before me, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. I whipped my head up, startled. The mocking smile I'd planned faltered slightly.

"Well, hello there, Riddle," I managed, a slight tremor in my voice.

He ignored my shaky greeting, his gaze fixed on my tear-streaked face. He knelt down beside me, his hand reaching out to gently touch mine. Before I could pull away, he brushed a stray tear from my cheek.

"Answer me," he pressed, his voice gentle. "Did someone hurt you?"

I managed a watery laugh."Do you think anyone could actually hurt me?"

"I think they'd regret the day they were born if they tried," he said fiercely, his thumb brushing away another tear.

A choked laugh bubbled up in my throat. He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he finally asked, his voice low and serious.

"Didn't that seem to be what you wanted all this time?" I retorted, my defenses slowly crumbling under his genuine concern.

He shook his head, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "But it never stopped you before, did it?"

"You hate me," I stated, forcing the words out, hoping to maintain some semblance of control.

He met my gaze, a surprising warmth melting away the usual façade. "Of course I do," he said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Then why are you here, caring so much for someone who claims to hate them?" I challenged, my voice trembling slightly.

He leaned in closer, his voice a mere whisper. "Well, I don't hate you. In fact, I kind of missed you these past few days. You really know how to mess with a man's head, L/N."

My breath caught in my throat. Mattheo held my gaze, his hand still gently cupping mine.

"So?" he drawled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Am I forgiven, or should I do that dramatic monologue you conjured up that night?"

The urge to laugh was overwhelming. His teasing, that infuriatingly familiar smirk – it felt strangely comforting after the emotional rollercoaster of the past few moments. Instead of a witty retort, I leaned in and surprised even myself by kissing him.

He responded instantly, his kiss deepening with a fervor that stole my breath away.

"That would be nice," I mumbled against his lips when we finally broke apart, "but right now, this will do." I reached up and cupped his face, my fingers tracing the sharp angles of his jaw. "This," I whispered, "is more than enough."

He pulled me closer, his hand reaching up to explore the curve of my back. The kiss was different this time, slow and languid

His hand found its way under my skirt, sending a jolt of heat through me. He pulled me closer, setting me on his lap.

"What the…" a voice cut through the charged atmosphere. We both pulled away, startled, to find Blaise Zabini standing there, his jaw hanging open in a comical display of shock.

Heat flooded my cheeks "I'm going to kill him," I whispered to mattheo.

"I'd help you hide the body,"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

just a drink

older!sirius black x reader - just a drink

word count: 4k

summary: after a long meeting with the order sirius invites y/n to stay for… just a drink

warnings: kissing, mentions of age gap, absolutely infatuated sirius (bc i like men who shower me with compliments and affection) also slight dumbledore hate

a/n: once again i went insane with this. there are so many other things i should be writing for you but i just have to share this

     The room was dimly lit, the flickering candles casting long shadows across the mismatched chairs and the weathered wooden table. The members of the Order of the Phoenix sat packed tightly together, their faces solemn as Dumbledore spoke. The tension in the air was palpable, the kind that settled deep in the bones and refused to let go.

     Y/N sat near the middle of the table, between Remus and Sirius. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her jaw tight as she listened to Dumbledore outline the latest developments. Her patience was thin tonight, thinner than usual. The constant weight of the war, the sleepless nights, and now the decisions being made without enough consideration for their consequences—it was all too much.

     Dumbledore’s voice carried on, steady and commanding. “We need to establish a stronger presence near Diagon Alley. The Death Eaters are becoming bolder in their attacks, and we must be prepared for the possibility of a strike closer to the heart of wizarding London.”

     Y/N’s fingers tapped against her arm, her brow furrowing. She could feel the frustration building, a knot tightening in her chest. “I don’t see how that helps,” she muttered under her breath.

     Her voice was quiet, but Sirius, sitting to her right, caught it. He glanced at her, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. She always had something to say, always pushed back against authority when she thought they were wrong. It was one of the things he admired about her— her fire.

     Dumbledore continued, unbothered. “A visible presence in the area will serve as both a deterrent and a warning. However, we must exercise caution. Any unnecessary provocation could lead to—”

     “With all due respect, sir,” Y/N interrupted, her voice cutting through the room, “standing around looking official isn’t going to stop them. They already know we’re here, and they’re not afraid of us. If anything, it’ll just make us targets.”

     The room fell silent. All eyes turned to her, some surprised, others wary. Y/N felt the weight of their stares but held her ground, her gaze steady on Dumbledore.

     “Y/N,” Remus murmured beside her, his voice low and calm. He placed a hand on her back, a gesture meant to steady her. “Not now.”

     The touch was gentle but firm, and Y/N felt herself deflate slightly. She bit back a retort and leaned back in her chair, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest.

     Sirius’s eyes flicked to the spot where Remus’s hand rested on Y/N’s back. His smirk faded, replaced by a subtle tightening of his jaw. He knew the gesture was innocent—Remus had always been protective of her, just as he was with everyone in their group—but it still bothered him. There was an ease between them, a quiet understanding, that Sirius couldn’t help but envy.

     And yet, he had no right to feel that way. She wasn’t his.

     He leaned back in his chair, forcing his gaze away from them and pretending to focus on the parchment in front of him. But his thoughts refused to cooperate.

     The age gap. That damned age gap.

     It was the reason he hadn’t made a move, the thing that held him back every time he caught himself watching her for too long or thinking about her late at night. She was young, vibrant, full of life. He was weighed down by a lifetime of mistakes and regrets. What right did he have to want her?

     Dumbledore’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Now, onto the matter of Hogsmeade,” he said, gesturing to the map on the table. “There have been reports of suspicious activity near the Shrieking Shack. I’ll need volunteers to investigate—discreetly, of course.”

     Y/N straightened slightly, her interest piqued. Sirius could see the determination in her eyes, the way she was already considering the assignment. But before she could speak, Remus gave her a subtle nudge with his elbow.

     “Don’t,” he murmured, his tone light but pointed.

     She shot him a look, half annoyed, half amused. Sirius felt a twinge of something—jealousy, irritation, he wasn’t sure—as he watched the exchange. They had their own unspoken language, a bond that had formed over years of shared experiences and trust.

     The meeting dragged on, Dumbledore moving from one topic to the next. Y/N’s frustration simmered beneath the surface, evident in the way she tapped her fingers against the table or shifted in her seat. Sirius found it hard to focus. His attention kept drifting to her—to the way her hair caught the candlelight, the way her brow furrowed in concentration.

      And then there were the little things, the details only he seemed to notice: the way her lips pressed together when she was deep in thought, the soft sigh she let out when something annoyed her.

     By the time the meeting adjourned, Y/N had reached her limit. She stood abruptly, muttering something about needing fresh air.

     Sirius watched her go, his eyes lingering on the way her hair swayed as she walked. He wondered if she realized how captivating she was, if she had any idea how much space she occupied in his thoughts.

     “You’re not very subtle, you know,” Remus said, breaking the silence.

     Sirius turned to him, frowning. “What are you on about?”

     Remus smirked, his tone dry. “You’ve been staring at her all night.”

     “I wasn’t staring,” Sirius said quickly, too quickly.

     “Right,” Remus said, gathering his things. “Just try not to make it so obvious next time.”

     Sirius let out a huff of irritation, running a hand through his hair. 

     But it was hard to look away.

     As the room emptied, Sirius stayed behind, slumping back in his chair. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows across the walls. He closed his eyes, letting out a low sigh.

     The truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d tried—Merlin, he’d tried—but she was always there, lingering in the back of his mind. Her voice, her smile, the way she carried herself with so much confidence and determination.

━━━━━━━•✧°•°𓅦°•°✧•━━━━━━━

     The cold outside felt like it seeped into her bones as soon as she stepped through the door, the chill from the air making Y/N shiver. She had rushed out earlier, frustrated with the meeting and the constant back-and-forth of words that never seemed to result in any real action. But now, standing alone in the cold yard of Grimmauld Place, she realized she’d left her coat and bag behind in the rush.

     With a resigned sigh, she turned back toward the house, the heavy wooden door creaking slightly as she entered. The warmth of the house immediately wrapped around her, but it wasn’t enough to shake the unease still lingering in her chest. She moved quickly through the entryway, making her way back to the sitting room where she had left her belongings.

     The house was eerily quiet now. The voices, the laughter, the bustling of the meeting—it had all vanished. The flickering candlelight in the sitting room seemed to magnify the silence, making everything feel still.

     She paused when she saw him.

     Sirius was sitting at the table, the same spot where the Order meeting had been held just a short while ago. His elbows rested on the edge of the table, his hands folded loosely in front of him, and his gaze was distant. He hadn’t noticed her entrance yet, his focus still on some faraway thought.

     Y/N’s steps slowed as she studied him for a moment, unsure of what to make of the stillness that seemed to surround him. He didn’t appear to have noticed her yet, his focus still on something she couldn’t see.

     She cleared her throat softly, breaking the quiet.

     Sirius looked up at the sound, his gray eyes meeting hers immediately, the hint of a smile pulling at his lips. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of the past few hours hanging between them.

     “Forgot my coat,” Y/N said, her voice a little more subdued than usual as she gestured toward the chair where she had left her things.

     Sirius nodded, sitting up straighter in his seat. “You left in a bit of a hurry,” he said, a wry smile on his face. “Cold out there.”

     Y/N glanced down at her coat, then at him. “I guess I didn’t think about the cold.”

     “Would’ve figured you for someone who’d remember that,” he teased, but there was something softer in his voice now.

     Y/N stepped forward, picking up her coat from the chair. As her fingers brushed against the fabric, she hesitated. The frustration she had felt during the meeting had yet to leave her. The weight of Dumbledore’s decisions, the helplessness of their situation, had settled deep within her.

     Sirius observed her, his gaze softening. The silence between them was now something different, something more reflective. "You alright?" he asked quietly, his voice devoid of teasing now, the softness lingering in his words.

     “I’ll be fine,” she said lightly, tugging her coat tighter around her shoulders. “I just... I need to clear my head.”

     Sirius raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You look like you could use a drink. How about you stay for a bit?”

     Y/N hesitated. She knew what he was offering: a brief escape, a chance to let their shoulders down after the weight of the meeting. It was a kindness, one she rarely turned down when offered, but she wasn’t sure she was in the mood for conversation—at least, not the kind he seemed to want.

     She smoothed a hand over her coat, then met his gaze. "I don’t want to be a bother.”

     A small chuckle escaped him, though it didn’t reach his eyes the way it usually did. He was trying, she could see that, but there was a quiet undercurrent in his voice now, one that didn’t have the usual playfulness. It was something else—something deeper.

     “You’re not a bother. You never are.” He paused, watching her closely, as though he were searching for something behind her guarded expression. “Come on. Let’s just... have a drink. Relax a little. Please.”

     Y/N could feel the hesitation in her chest, that resistance she’d built around herself, but she also knew she didn’t want to go back to her flat alone—not after tonight. Not when she could still feel the sharp sting of everything they had just discussed lingering in her mind. Maybe, just maybe, a drink with Sirius would help take the edge off.

     She sighed, stepping away from the doorframe. “Alright. Just one drink.”

     Sirius’s smile, though small, was genuine. It reached his eyes this time, and for a brief moment, Y/N caught a glimpse of something in his expression—a flicker of hope or perhaps relief. But then he masked it again, as he always did, with that ever-present, charismatic ease.

     “Excellent,” he said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “I’ll let you pick the poison. But if you say Firewhisky, I’m warning you, I’ll be pouring myself a double.”

     Y/N shook her head as she followed him through the hall. “I’m not in the mood for something that strong,” she replied, though she couldn’t hide the slight smile that tugged at her lips.

     He led the way into the kitchen. It was a small space, cozy even in its slightly outdated decor. Y/N had always thought there was something oddly comforting about the kitchen in Grimmauld Place—it was a place that felt lived in, not cold and sterile like the rest of the house.

     He moved to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of something dark, his fingers brushing over it in a way that suggested familiarity. “How about this?” he asked, turning to her with a raised eyebrow. “A little bit of something to take the edge off without turning us into complete wrecks.”

     Y/N smiled at the offer. “I’ll try it. But I’m holding you to your word—just one drink.”

     “Of course,” he replied smoothly, though there was an edge to his voice now, a quiet sincerity. “I’m not trying to get you drunk, Y/N. I just thought... after everything today, maybe a bit of peace wouldn’t hurt.”

     He poured them both a generous measure of the amber liquid, handing her the glass with a soft smile. She accepted it, their fingers brushing ever so slightly as she took it, and she was suddenly very aware of how close they were. Sirius’s presence always had this magnetic pull on her. Even now, as he leaned back against the counter, watching her with those dark eyes of his, she felt something shift in the air around them.

     “So, what did you think of the meeting?” he asked, his voice low and steady, but she could hear the underlying edge of exhaustion in his words. He was tired. They all were. But Sirius... Sirius had always worn his exhaustion differently. He carried it with a certain grace, a way of making it look effortless when it was anything but.

     Y/N shrugged, taking a small sip of her drink. “It’s the same as always. We talk strategy, we pretend like we know what we’re doing, and we leave with the same uncertainty as when we came in.”

     “Yeah,” Sirius muttered, his eyes darkening as he swirled his drink. “The war doesn’t exactly give us much to work with, does it?”

     Y/N looked at him, her gaze lingering on his face. There was something about the way he said it, like he had seen the world through darker lenses than most. She couldn’t deny that part of her was fascinated by that—by the depth of everything he had been through. And yet, there was always a part of him that seemed so light, so full of life. It was that contrast that both intrigued and unsettled her.

     “I think we’re all just waiting for the next bombshell to drop,” she said softly, her eyes not meeting his. “And in the meantime, we try to keep it together.”

     Sirius watched her closely, his eyes fixed on the movement of her lips as she slowly sipped her drink. His gaze lingered, and for a moment, he forgot about everything—about the weight of the meeting, about the ever-present tension of the war. It was just her, sitting across from him, and the soft glow of the kitchen lights casting shadows across her face. His heart seemed to skip a beat as he noticed the way the soft candlelight made her eyes shine, the way the curve of her lips looked even more inviting with every sip.

     Y/N felt his gaze before she saw it. The weight of his attention pressed on her, as though his eyes were tracing every line of her face, every small movement. It made her heart beat a little faster, a warmth spreading through her chest despite the cool air around them. She looked up over the rim of her glass, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were soft, but there was a flicker of something deeper, something more intense. Something she hadn’t noticed before—or maybe she had, but had ignored.

     “What is it, Sirius?” she asked, her voice teasing but with a subtle undercurrent of curiosity. “Do I have something on my face?”

     Sirius blinked, caught off guard for a moment. He cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts. But the truth slipped out before he could stop it.

     “No,” he said softly, “just thinking... you’re beautiful.”

     Y/N’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, a small laugh escaping her lips. She set the glass down on the counter and crossed her arms, her gaze locking onto his. “Really?” she said with a playful smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

     Sirius chuckled, though there was a touch of nervousness beneath the laugh. The air between them seemed to shift, the tension thickening, and for a brief moment, he forgot all about the age gap that had kept him at bay for so long. The difference in their years had been a wall in his mind, one he had built to keep things at arm's length. But now, standing here with her, so close, so real, it felt like that wall was crumbling away piece by piece.

     He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and rough. “You know, I’ve been thinking about something for a while, and I’m not sure if I should say it.” His heart was hammering in his chest, the words threatening to spill out before he could stop them. “But... would you want to kiss me?”

     Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at the question. It was so direct, so unguarded. And it was like the entire world seemed to stop for a heartbeat. She blinked, the shock of it mixing with something else—something warmer, something she hadn’t been expecting. She felt her pulse quicken, her eyes flicking to his lips before she caught herself.

     For a moment, she said nothing. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a teasing smile, the spark of mischief flickering in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”

     Sirius didn’t need any more encouragement. The restraint he had held onto for so long—the years of wondering, of doubting—slipped away in that moment. He moved closer, his hands coming up to gently cup her face, and then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers.

The kiss was soft at first, but it wasn’t long before the gentle pressure of his lips grew more urgent, more insistent, as though the need to be close to her had been building for far too long. Y/N responded in kind, her hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she deepened the kiss.

     Sirius let out a soft groan as he felt her pull him closer, her body pressed against his. The intensity of the kiss surged, and he could taste the warmth of the alcohol on her lips, the tang of it mixing with the sweetness of her kiss. His hands roamed to her back, pulling her flush against him, his breath quickening as he kissed her deeper, harder, the world spinning around them.

     “Y/N...” he muttered against her lips, his voice thick with desire. “You’re... heavenly.”

     Y/N’s heart was racing now, her hands tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt, the heat radiating from his skin. She had never imagined this—never imagined that the distance between them could close so quickly, so completely. But now, with him so close, with his lips on hers, she couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

     She pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her lips tingling from the intensity of the kiss. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her gaze locked on his. “Sirius...” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, but thick with emotion. “Kiss me again.”

     Sirius didn’t need any more prompting. He kissed her again, this time with a desperation that was new—raw and hungry. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her with a depth that left them both breathless. The kiss was no longer soft. It was passionate, consuming, as though every doubt, every fear, was being kissed away in that one moment.

     He muttered a few curses, his lips trailing down to her neck, tasting the soft skin there. “God, Y/N... you don’t know what you do to me.” His voice was rough, strained, as he nipped gently at her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

     Y/N gasped, her fingers threading through his hair as she tilted her head back to give him better access. His lips were on her neck, hot and insistent, his kisses leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t want to. Every part of her was alive with the sensation of him, the taste of him, the warmth of his body against hers.

     The kiss deepened once more, and without thinking, Sirius picked her up, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pressed her back against the wall. The sudden movement surprised her, but it only made the moment more intense, more real. She gasped, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, and he groaned at the closeness, at the feeling of her body against his.

     His lips moved down her neck, kissing her in slow, deliberate strokes, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered her name. “Y/N...” he murmured again, as though trying to make sure she was still with him, still there. “You’re... perfect.”

     Her heart raced as he kissed her neck, his lips trailing over the sensitive skin there. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. She only knew that she wanted more.

     When their kiss finally broke, both of them panting for air, they slid to the floor. Sirius’s head rested against her shoulder.

     Slowly he sat up, his hands still holding her waist. He looked at her, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of longing and something else—something deeper.

     “I was... worried,” he confessed, his voice low, vulnerable in a way she had never heard before. “Worried about the age difference. About whether you’d... feel the same. It’s always been in the back of my mind.”

     Y/N’s heart softened at his words, and she placed a hand gently on his cheek, brushing her thumb over the stubble there. “Sirius, I don’t care about that,” she said softly. “I’ve never even thought of it.”

     He leaned in to kiss her again, but this time, it was only a soft graze, a reminder of how easily he could lose himself in her.

     “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice rough with the emotions he could never fully hide. “So damn beautiful, so bloody lovely...” He chuckled softly, a spark of mischief lighting in his eyes. “It’s maddening, really.”

     Y/N’s chest fluttered at his words, at the vulnerability that she could hear in his voice. She leaned in, gently kissing the corner of his mouth, her lips lingering for a moment longer than expected. “I’m really glad you convinced me to stay for a drink,” she whispered, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw.

     Sirius’s breath caught at her words, and for a moment, he looked as though he might say something else, but instead, he moved, his hand rested on her leg, a soft touch that conveyed so much more than words could. Then, slowly, he shifted again, lying down with his head in her lap, the two of them surrounded by the quiet of the kitchen.

     He gazed up at her, his eyes filled with a kind of wonder, a touch of awe. “You’re so perfect, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice low and warm. “I can’t believe I’m here with you. I’ve wanted this. Wanted you. For so long.”

     Y/N blushed, a soft smile curling on her lips. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying the warmth of the moment.

     Sirius let out a breath, as though he’d been holding it for far too long. His lips turned upward in a small, tender smile. And for a long moment, they stayed like that—him lying on her lap, her fingers in his hair, the weight of everything unspoken and everything new hanging between them, untold but not needed.

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 3: (because they all deserved more time with each other)

(part 2, here.)

(part 1, here.)

There is, of course, a group chat. Billy initially named it, “Coven of Chaos💜” but Rio changed it to “sluts”

Jen immediately left the chat the second it was created, but Alice put her back in. There was a second escape attempt when they were all together, to which Lilia responded with an “🙁” expression, which was enough to convince Jen to reluctantly stay in the group chat.

Ironically, Lilia isn't even active on the group chat. She's terrible at texting & terrible at reasing messages. (“why is the print so small??”)

She is, however, surprisingly nimble with her phone outside of that. She needed to figure it out for business and stuff.

Sharon also doesn't know how to use the group chat. She had a flip-phone until recently—and only got a new one because Billy insisted she needed it. She keeps accidentally doing group calls by miss-clicking on her phone.

Sharon always calls Alice to “come fix her phone” because “it's broken again!!” Alice, each time, has to tell her that it's probably just out of battery.

Agatha is blocked on Jen's phone because she won't stop sending her spam, so they only ever text each other on the group chat, which Jen has muted.

Jen, Alice and Lilia have a separate group chat. Lilia hasn't even noticed, but they assume she has, because she leaves everything on read. In reality, she just thinks both group chats are the same group-chat and they always have to call her om the phone to make plans.

Alice wanted to add Billy to the second group chat too, but Jen told her that he'd probably be sad to not include the others so it's better that he doesn't find out.

Agatha claims she doesn't care what Billy does, but once she ran out of her house to his car because he forgot his jacket.

Billy made everyone friendship bracelets in prideflag colours, (like the ones agatha and rio wore in agatha's trial.)

“I hate bracelets” “don't wear it then” “fuck you, I'm never taking it off.”

“do you like it? :))” *chocked up* “it's fine i guess-”

Alice, Lilia, Sharon and Rio don't even play difficult, they just wear them immediately.

Agatha and Billy love doing matching Halloween outfits. Rio and Eddie would be offended, but like. They respect the slay.

Eddie would go as hulk (haha hulkling reference) and Rio would just wear a black t-shirt that says “BOO-bs” across her chest. And she'd draw nipples all over her body.

Billy makes them vote for best costume and he ALWAYS votes for Alice regardless of who actually has the best costume. Not because he's biased—just because hers are genuinely always his favourites.

Jen and Lilia will go shopping during the first weeks of October, when people start decorating for Halloween, and the moment Lilia spots a SINGLE pumpkin she starts bitching and moaning the WHOLE WAY HOME about how “the holiday industrial complex appropriates our culture through offensive stereotypes and absurd emblems and It's full of caricatures that stem from misogyny and female domesticity and villifying powerful women and AND there's so many racial micro-aggresions and it's all just exploiting us for profit and all these decorations and advertisements are just here to pressure people to buy products and--”

Jen stopped listening ten minutes ago. She SO regrets pointing and saying, “oh, that pumpkin is so cute!” as if she doesn't know who she's hanging out with.

So, obviously Lilia never dresses up for Halloween. Jen just dresses hot, so that Lilia won't be able to be mad at her.

Lilia has... No objections to that--

Rio's favourite thing during Halloween (but also just, always) is scaring the shit out of people.

They all have weekly movie nights :)

Rio picks “comedies” (Horror movies, psychological thrillers, slasher films, gothic fiction, dark comedies, survival horror, anything gruesome & grotesque & body horror & gore, post-apocalyptic fiction) Sharon “coincidentally” skips movie night whenever it's Rio's turn to pick a film.

Alice picked everything everywhere all at once during her last turn. Her and Lilia sobbed through it (for very different reasons) while hugging each other. Other than that, Alice usually picks action movies, crime films, and the occasional rom-com or coming-of-age.

Jen loves dramas. Any dramas. Unnecessary trope-filled miscommunication? Hit her up!

Sharon likes sitcoms and old hollywood productions with a romantic flair. She'll point at scenes and narrate stories about how, “me and my husband used to...”

Agatha watches a lot of reality tv because she loves to make fun of the people yelling at each other.

Billy will always pick musicals. (Lilia has forbidden a specific few—and I think we all know which few.)

Hilariously, Agatha uses her next turn to force Lilia to sit through Madonna's Evita.

Lilia herself hates historical movies and always points out the inaccuracies. Same with fantasy media, she just doesn't like it. She's the pickiest of them all with movies and she always chooses total obscure wildcards that nobody has ever heard before—and somehow they're always the best ones.

Billy's parents are very conflicted about these people. “How about you and Eddie just... Start hanging out with people your own age? Like!! Eddie's friend group!!”

Even when he starts hanging out with the Young Avengers, he still spends more than half of his free time with his coven of lesbian senior citizens. <3

[letsgetrowdy43]

Just a few months—

Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: 🐞 Heyyy can I request this prompt "Your lover kisses you goodbyes as usual, but when they start going towards the door, you run towards them and give them another deep kiss" with Luke Hughes ☺️

Warnings/notes: I'm a sucker for soft Luke...

End of summer celebration!!

There was nothing quite as depressing as the agony of watching the summer nights blend back into the schedule of the school year. The quiet passing of time and ticking of the clock as mid-August turns into early September. Which led to now, the long-awaited moment of separating from loved ones as schedules get busy and distances get longer after months of being attached at the hip.

Luke quietly organized all the girl's kitchen utensils as she found the perfect spot on the counter for each appliance. The silence of the looming departure and the fact that her three roommates had still not arrived settled in the empty space as the clock ticked.

In just a short hour the child would be saying their last goodbye until her Christmas break when he would fly her out to Jersey for a few days. They'd see each other a few other times, like when he played in Detroit or when would she commute out to Columbus to spend the night with him and see the game.

But from now until her graduation in April their love would exist miles apart from each other, manifested in phone calls, little packages in the mail to one another, and the occasional Facetime.

It was never ideal, always a challenge, but it was a sacrifice they were willing to make for another year before she packed up her life in Michigan and made the move to be with him. But there was always a future ahead of them, and that kept the spark alive.

Quiet tears welled in her eyes as she watched the concentration on his face as he placed all her forks in their respective spots, chewing the inside of his lip as he looked up to see the sad look that had washed over her face. He had long forgotten the cutlery and made his way over to her, his arms wrapping around her as he hugged her and her arm full of knit dishrags to his chest.

"What's got you all upset?" "Gonna miss you so much," she sobbed as she let go of all the clothes and wrapped herself around the boy, face buried in his soft t-shirt as he gently swayed them in an attempt to calm her down.

She let out a wet laugh at how dramatic she must look, "I just hate being so far from you," she shrugged as one of his hands wiped away the tears and mascara that tainted her perfect rosy cheeks. "It's gonna suck so bad," he agreed, "but we did it last year, and we only have the last year to go, so really this is like the home stretch."

His words were not overly helpful but she smiled at his lame attempts, pressing a kiss to his chest as he continued to sway them back and forth.

"And think about it, I'll be back here the second I can get on a flight for your grad." "What about Playoffs?" "Well we will cross that road when we get to it, but I will be here to see graduate, and then you'll come back with me to Jersey and we can go look at apartments and you'll be in grad school," he made everything sound so simple, which was far from the case, but to know he had some faith in the two of them felt nice.

"We have a plan, just got to make it to the end of this school year and will have the rest of our lives together," he mumbled before cupping the side of her tear-stained cheeks and pressing kisses to her temple and then a slow one to her lips before his phone began to ring in his back pocket.

His alarm goes off, voicing that he needs to head home to pack before his flight tonight.

Her bottom lip wobbled as his eyes glossed over slightly, "I love you," he mumbled into her hairline as she nodded and leaned into his lips. She pulled away momentarily to stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips, a long, delicate, a little rushed kiss that spoke more than words could as his hand travelled down to the small of her back and hers found his tone forearms. "I love you too," she said in between kisses as he pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers.

He dipped his head down to press a kiss to her cheek before holding her flush against his chest one last time, "I really need to go," he sighed as he nodded and pulled away. her hands whipped away her tears as he collected his things, leaving his sweater behind for her, a little surprise for later.

"Call me when you get home okay? And tell the boys I hope they have safe flights home," she said with a sad smile, as his hand caught hers and squeezed it one last time. "I will, and they told me to tell you to have a fun year," she smiled at the thought of the boys who had basically been somewhat of brothers to her wishing her well.

He took off in the direction of the door, not wanting to add anything else and make the two of them upset again. As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence that filled the room felt heavy, suffocating. She stood there for a moment, staring at the door, her heart aching with the sudden emptiness that occupied the room around her.

But something inside her refused to let this be the way they parted.

Without thinking, she rushed toward the door, her feet moving faster than her mind could keep up with. She yanked it open and bolted down the hallway, her breath coming in quick, desperate gasps. “Luke!” she called out, her voice trembling with urgency as she sped walked down the hallway.

He had barely made it to the stairwell when he heard her. He turned, surprised, his brows furrowed in concern. But before he could say anything, she was there, flinging herself into his arms for one last dramatic goodbye.

“I didn't like that goodbye, I couldn’t let you leave like that,” she whispered, her voice shaky as she clung to him. She pulled his face down to hers and pressed her lips to his, a kiss that was fierce, full of emotion, a kiss that told him everything she couldn’t put into words.

It was a kiss that tasted of longing, of love, of the fear of the months they’d have to spend apart.

Luke’s arms wrapped around her instantly, holding her tightly against him as he kissed her back with equal intensity and as cliche as it sounded there was no love in the world that amount to the one he held for the girl in his arms.

When they finally pulled away, breathless, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing together as they stood there, unwilling to let go.

“Promise me you’ll be okay,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. She nodded, her hands cupping his face as she whispered back, “As long as you promise to come back to me.” “I promise."

They lingered for a moment longer, soaking in the warmth of each other’s presence before he finally pulled back. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, then reluctantly let her go. “I’ll call you as soon as I get on the highway,” he promised one last time, his hand squeezing hers gently before he turned and headed down the stairs.

This time, she didn’t follow him.

She stood there, watching until he was out of sight, her heart aching but filled with the certainty that they would make it through this last stretch of being apart. And with one last sigh, she turned back to her apartment, the lingering warmth of his kiss still on her lips.

-

-

-

[earthtoharlow]

From the Dining Table

chapter 01

20 Years Ago

Jack sat on the couch with his hands pressed against his head, hoping that the pressure against his temples would stop the war that was going through his mind. The engagement ring sat on the coffee table between them. Across from him sat actress Scarlett Hayes, his fiancée for barely six months—she stared at him in disbelief, her voice shaking.

“Are you trying to hurt me?” Scarlett whispered, her fingers curled around the edge of the chair, as if holding on to something, anything would keep her from crashing out.

Jack couldn’t even look at her. He knew her eyes were full of questions that he didn’t have the strength or balls to answer. Jack’s chest tightened as her voice grew louder, more desperate.

“Talk to me! We’ve been through too much for you to just walk away like this. You owe me a reason.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The words were stuck in his throat, a tangled mess of guilt, fear, and love. How could he tell Scarlett that it wasn’t her fault? That he was breaking her heart to save her from something worse? That deep down, he wasn’t sure he was the man she deserved?

“I can’t,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Scarlett stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. “You can’t what? You can’t explain? You can’t love me anymore? What?” Her frustration spilled over, and she ran a hand through her hair, pacing the room. “Do you even care about how this is affecting me? I thought we were happy, I thought we were going to—”

“Stop.” Jack's voice cracked. He could barely stand hearing her hope shatter with every word. But still, he couldn’t give her the explanation she wanted. What was he supposed to say? That he wasn’t ready? That he felt like he was losing himself in this life they were building? That his career, his demons, and the past he carried were dragging him away from the future they were supposed to share?

“I can’t do this right now,” he muttered, his eyes glued to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes welled up, and she stood there for a moment, staring at him like he was a stranger. He knew what she was thinking—how could someone who claimed to love her so deeply suddenly become so distant?

“I deserve better than this,” she finally said, her voice barely holding together. “I deserve to know why.”

Jack clenched his fists, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms, to kiss her forehead like he used to and tell her everything would be alright. But he couldn’t make that promise anymore. The truth was, he didn’t trust himself not to hurt her again. He wasn’t the man she needed him to be.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and it felt hollow, empty—just like him. He stood up and walked toward the door without looking back. She didn’t try to stop him this time.

Just as his hand reached for the doorknob, her voice pierced the silence, sharp and broken.

“I hate you.”

Jack froze, his back still to her. The weight of those three words hit him harder than anything she could have said. He felt it in his chest, a pain so deep it was almost physical.

“You’re pathetic, I hate you,” she said again, louder this time. “And I’ll always hate you.”

He stood there, unable to move, Scarlett’s words echoing in his mind. He deserved them. Every last syllable. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Without turning around, he opened the door and walked out, leaving behind the woman he loved more than anything, knowing she would never forgive him. Knowing he had lost her forever and it was all his fault.

***

Twenty years later, Scarlett sat in front of a row of reporters at a press junket for her latest film. The years had been kind to her—she’d rebuilt her life, piece by piece, becoming one of the most respected actresses in the world. She was on the brink of becoming an EGOT winner—a feat few could claim.

Life had moved on, and so had she. She’d married another actor a few years after the breakup. They had a beautiful daughter together, though the marriage didn’t last. Despite the divorce, she and her ex-husband had managed to co-parent well, and their daughter, Maya, now 14, was the light of her life.

Yet, certain memories from the past had a way of creeping into her mind when she least expected it.

As the last few questions were being asked, one reporter raised their hand. “What advice would you give to the person you were 20 years ago?”

Scarlett paused. The question wasn’t unusual, but it took her by surprise. Twenty years ago. The number tugged at her, pulling her back to a version of herself she hadn’t thought about in a long time. A version who’d just had her engagement broken off without an explanation. A version who felt shattered, blindsided, and unsure of where to go next.

She took a breath before answering, her voice calm and thoughtful. “I would tell her to trust herself more. To understand that sometimes the things that break you aren’t meant to destroy you, but to reshape you into someone stronger.” She paused, her eyes softening, as if she were talking directly to her younger self. “And that the pain, as overwhelming as it might feel in the moment, will eventually become the foundation for the person you’re supposed to become.”

She smiled, a small, almost private one, as if the advice wasn’t just for the person she was 20 years ago, but also for herself in the present. The reporters scribbled down her response, sensing there was more behind her words than just a general piece of advice.

But Scarlett didn’t elaborate. She thanked the reporter for the thoughtful question and moved on to the next, keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself.

When Scarlett returned to her hotel room. She closed the door softly, the quiet of the room a welcome contrast to the frenzy of the press junket. Dropping her purse on the table, she exhaled deeply, trying to shake off the emotions that had surfaced when she answered that last question. Memories of the past always had a way of creeping back when she least expected it.

Maya was lounging on the couch, looking up from her phone as Scarlett walked in. She was 14, full of energy and curiosity, with the kind of bright eyes that reminded Scarlett of herself at that age. But there was also a resilience in her daughter—one that seemed far beyond her years.

“Hey, Mom,” Maya called out casually, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “How did it go?”

She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It went well. Same questions, different faces.”

Maya set her phone down, sitting up a little straighter. “You look tired. Want me to order room service or something?”

Scarlett chuckled softly. “Maybe in a bit.”

Maya hesitated for a moment before her expression shifted to something more excited. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something. And don’t say no right away.”

“Oh boy,” Scarlett said, playfully bracing herself as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “What is it?”

“Well,” Maya began, drawing out the word like she was preparing for a big reveal, “I found out that while we’re in town, Jack Harlow is performing. And… I really want to go.”

Scarlett’s stomach knotted instantly at the thought. Jack Harlow. The man who had walked out of her life without an explanation two decades ago. The rapper who had become even more successful over the years, topping charts with multiple number-one albums and winning five Grammys. He was everywhere, even if they had managed to avoid each other at every awards show, every industry event, every red carpet. They had perfected the art of pretending the other didn’t exist.

Now, the idea of seeing him again—of watching him perform while sitting in the audience with her daughter—made her chest tighten. But how could she say no to Maya? She adored her daughter, and Maya was at the age where she idolized the rapper, just like millions of others.

She swallowed, trying to keep her expression neutral. “Jack Harlow….?”

“Yes!” Her daughter’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I’ve been dying to see him live, and it’s crazy that we’re here at the same time. Please, Mom? I know you’re busy this week, but I have to go to this concert. It would be amazing.”

Scarlett tried to keep her tone casual as she spoke. “You know, sweetie, maybe your dad could take you to the concert instead? I’m sure he’d love to go with you.”

Maybe paused, looking at her mom in disbelief. “Dad?” she asked, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. “No way.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Why not? He loves concerts, we used to go to concerts all the time together before you were born.”

Maya plopped down on the bed, shaking her head firmly. “Mom, you don’t understand. Dad can be so embarrassing sometimes. I mean, he’d probably try to rap along to the songs and think he’s cool, or worse—he’d make some weird joke in front of people. I can’t have that happening in front of him,” she said, referring to Jack.

Scarlett stifled a laugh. She knew her ex-husband’s quirky sense of humor all too well. He was a great dad, but yeah… maybe not the best choice for a situation like this. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be that bad,” she tried.

Maya wasn’t convinced. “Mom, I love Dad, but he’s not exactly cool, you know? When you mention TikTok he thinks you’re talking about that Kesha song.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please, Mom. You’re way cooler.”

Scarlett sighed, her plan to avoid the concert quickly unraveling. “I don’t know, honey,” she said, hesitating. “It’s just… I’ve got a lot going on with the press tour, and I might be too tired. Maybe—”

Maya looked at her, wide-eyed and pleading. “Mom, this is literally a once-in-a-lifetime thing. You’re always working. Just this once, can’t we do something fun together? Please?”

She felt a pang of guilt. She had been so focused on her career, the press, and everything else that had happened over the years that she hadn’t made enough time for moments like this with her daughter.

But the idea of being at his concert, seeing him again, was terrifying. Still, as she looked at her daughter, who was practically begging her, Scarlett found herself trapped. Maya didn’t deserve to be punished for something that had happened long before she was born.

“Okay,” she said, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded. “We’ll go.”

Maya squealed, reaching over to hug her tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! This is going to be the best night ever!”

***

Backstage, Jack sat in front of the mirror, his head bowed as he tied his new balance. His crew moved in and out of the dressing room, prepping for another sold-out show. Tonight was special. Every show was, but something about performing in this city always felt like coming home.

His phone buzzed on the counter beside him, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the rhythm pulsing in his veins. It was the pre-show adrenaline, the high he chased every time he stepped on stage. The crowd would be chanting his name in a few minutes, and he needed to be in the zone.

Urban pushed through the door camera in hand and a knowing grin plastered on his face.

“You’ll never guess who’s here tonight,” Urban said, his voice full of intrigue.

Jack didn’t look up, a half-smile tugging at his lips. Urban always had something to say, always some gossip or story to break up the tension. He figured it was just one of the usual celebrity guests, a fan or two from another showbiz circle.

“Who?” he asked, humoring him as he stood and stretched out his arms, preparing himself mentally for the setlist.

Urban leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, that grin not fading. “I’m serious, man. You’ll never believe it.”

“Alright, then. Hit me with it. Who’s in the building?” he asked, half-paying attention, still in his pre-show mode.

Urban paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence stretch just long enough before dropping the bombshell. “The one that got away.”

Jack laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed his jacket from the chair. “Man, stop playing. I ain’t got time for that.”

Urban didn’t blink. Didn’t laugh. Just stood there, his smile shifting into something more serious. “I’m not joking. She’s here. She came to see you.”

Jack froze, his hand hovering just above the jacket. For a second, he thought Urban was still messing with him. But Urban didn’t play like this—at least not about her.

He turned slowly, raising an eyebrow. “Who you talkin’ about?”

Urban didn’t miss a beat. “Scarlett Hayes.”

At first, all Jack could do was shake his head, the disbelief settling in. He laughed again, though this time it came out more as a breath of surprise than humor. “Nah. You’re trippin’. No way.”

But Urban’s expression didn’t budge. “I’m telling you, she’s here. Saw her myself. Came in with her daughter, I think.”

His heart stopped for just a moment. Her. After all these years?

Twenty years since they’d last spoken, twenty years since he’d walked out of that apartment without looking back, twenty years since the day she told him she hated him. The memories flooded back in an instant—the way her voice had cracked, the look in her eyes when he left her without an explanation. He had convinced himself long ago that he wouldn’t see her again. Not face-to-face. Their worlds were too big, their circles wide enough to avoid each other. And they had—for two decades.

But now?

“She’s really here?” he asked, his voice quieter this time, disbelief still hanging in the air.

Urban nodded. “Yup. Sitting somewhere out there with her kid. And from what I heard, it wasn’t even her idea to come. The girl wanted to see the show.”

Jack let out a low whistle, shaking his head as he processed it. Of all the people who could’ve been in the audience tonight, Scarlett was the last person he’d expected. Part of him had always wondered if they’d cross paths again, if there’d ever be a moment where the universe would force them into the same room, the same space. But after all these years, he had convinced himself it wouldn’t happen.

And now she was here.

He cleared his throat, feeling the weight of it settle over him. “Guess she couldn’t avoid me forever, huh?”

Urban chuckled. “Seems that way. But what you gonna do about it?”

Jack hesitated for a beat, staring at his reflection in the mirror, trying to reconcile the man he was now with the man who left her behind so long ago. He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure if she would want to see him after everything that had happened.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, shaking his head, trying to focus on the show ahead of him. “But I know one thing. I ain’t letting it mess up my set.”

Urban gave him a knowing look, camera still in hand. “Good call, but she’s here, man. And something tells me the past ain’t just stayin’ in the past tonight.”

With that, Urban turned and left the room, leaving Jack alone with the thought that after two decades, she was finally in his world again. And for the first time in years, he didn’t know how to feel.

***

Jack stood center stage and took in the sold out crowd. This was his zone, his sanctuary, where nothing could touch him—where he controlled the crowd and their energy, night after night.

But tonight, something felt different. His mind kept drifting, thoughts circling back to what Urban had said backstage. Scarlett here. He had tried to shake it off, but the thought gnawed at him, even as he performed. The crowd roared louder as he transitioned into his next song, one that hadn’t been on the original setlist but was a personal favorite for fans.

“Can I slow things down for a little bit?” Jack asked the crowd as he grabbed the mic stand. The opening chords echoed through the stadium, and a hush fell over the audience. They recognized it immediately. It wasn’t one of the hits that charted on Billboard or made it onto the radio, but it was the song that fans knew had come from the deepest part of him. It was the song he wrote about Scarlett around the time he first met her.

Yeah, they fine, but they not you. You a catch and I caught you. I wanna pull up and flaunt you and take some pics for Getty Images. I like all your beauty marks and blemishes…

The lights dimmed, and the spotlight shone solely on him as he moved across the stage when he looked out into the crowd, he saw her.

Scarlett was there, in the crowd, just like Urban said. In the sea of faces, she stood out—her face illuminated by the soft glow of the stage lights, eyes locked on him. For a split second, the entire world fell away. His breath hitched in his throat, the words almost dying on his lips as they stared at each other. It was like time had stopped, and all the years between them collapsed into this moment.

She hadn’t changed much—still as stunning as she had been when they were younger, though there was something deeper, wiser about her now. She wasn’t the woman he’d left behind; she had evolved, become someone bigger, stronger, untouchable in her success. But her eyes… her eyes still held that same fire.

The next line came out rougher, almost a whisper:

Girl, you're poison, poison, poison, poison, but the good kind. It's crazy how you're on my mind. Kind of crazy how you're on my mind

Jack remembered everything—how he left, how she had yelled at him, tears in her eyes as she said she hated him, how he hadn’t been able to say a single word back. He had never told her the real reason, had never given her the closure she deserved.

The final beat hit, and the crowd erupted, cheering wildly, oblivious to the tension swirling beneath the surface. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She hadn’t moved, her expression unreadable from where he stood, but he could feel the energy between them—like a cord that had been stretched thin for years was finally being tugged back into place.

For a moment, he thought about saying something, about calling out to Scarlett right there in front of everyone. But what would he even say? How do you fix something that’s been broken for two decades?

Instead, he just stood there, the mic heavy in his hand, staring at the woman he had never really stopped thinking about, wondering if she would turn and walk away like he had so many years ago.

Urban standing off to the side of the stage with his camera, had been watching everything. He saw the moment Jack’s eyes locked with hers in the crowd. He knew his friend better than anyone, knew that despite all the bravado, all the fame and success, there was still a part of him that had never gotten over her. And there was no way in hell he was going to let this moment slip by.

Jack handed off the mic to his stagehand, blinking as if trying to clear his head, but Urban was already a step ahead. He turned to Jack’s manager standing near the stage, a determined look on his face.

“Yo, get them backstage,” Urban ordered, his voice low but firm.

Kat raised an eyebrow. “You mean—”

“Scarlett Hayes. Her and her daughter. Bring them back here. Now,” Urban insisted, waving his hand toward where they’d been sitting. “Don’t make a scene, but get it done. He’s not gonna have the balls to do it himself.”

Kat hesitated for a split second but then nodded, understanding the urgency. This wasn’t just a regular concert guest—it was someone who could change everything for the man they all worked for. She quickly made her way toward the crowd, slipping through unnoticed as the concert continued.

Meanwhile, backstage, Jack had retreated to his dressing room, the rush of the show fading as reality crashed back in. He had avoided Scarlett for so long, convinced himself that whatever they had was buried in the past, but seeing her out there had brought it all rushing back. He ran a hand over his face, pacing the small space, still replaying that moment in his head—the way her eyes had locked on his, the way she hadn’t moved an inch, frozen in place just like him.

Urban burst into the room, camera hanging from his neck, smirking like he knew exactly what had to be done.

“What the hell was that, man?” Urban asked, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “You looked like you saw a ghost.”

Jack shot him a look, but his usual cocky demeanor was nowhere to be found. “I wasn’t expecting to actually see… her.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of it all.

“No kidding,” Urban said with a knowing smile. “You gonna go talk to her?”

He hesitated. “Man, I don’t know. It’s been too long. What’s there to say?”

Urban crossed his arms, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You’re telling me after all these years, you’re gonna let this slip? Scarlett is here, in the same building, and you’re just gonna pretend like you didn’t see her?”

Jack opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t find the words. Urban was right. This was a once-in-a-lifetime moment, but the fear—the same fear that made him walk away all those years ago—was creeping back in.

Urban could see it. He rolled his eyes and stepped forward. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. I already handled it.”

Jack frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I told Kat to bring her backstage,” Urban said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. “Figured you’d need a little push.”

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, his heart leaping into his throat. “You did what?”

Urban shrugged, unbothered. “Relax. I didn’t have them drag her here or anything. Just made sure she knows she’s welcome. I know you, man. You’d never make the move on your own.”

Jack stared at him, panic swirling in his chest. Part of him wanted to bolt, to disappear before she showed up, but another part—maybe the part that had been carrying this regret for twenty years—knew this was his chance. This was the moment he had been avoiding, but also the one he couldn’t let slip away.

Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door.

His heart stopped.

Urban shot him a quick look, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your cue.”

Jack took a deep breath, steeling himself as he walked toward the door. When he opened it, his breath caught in his throat.

There she was. Standing in front of him was the woman who had once been his entire world, but as soon as Scarlett saw him, her expression became eerily calm, like she was slipping into a role she’d played many times before. She smiled—a smile he recognized all too well—and extended her hand toward him, as though they were meeting for the very first time.

“Hi,” she said smoothly, her voice dripping with polite indifference. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m—”

“Nice to meet you,” Jack interrupted, his voice tense as he took her hand, gripping it lightly. The casualness of the gesture was almost unbearable. The weight of their history was right there between them, but she was pretending like it didn’t exist.

Her daughter, Maya meanwhile, wasn’t pretending at all. She stood beside her mother, wide-eyed and practically bouncing with excitement. The second she saw Jack, she let out a tiny squeal, covering her mouth with her hands, her gaze darting between him and her mother as if this were some kind of dream.

“Mom! Oh my God, it’s really him!” Maya whispered loudly, her excitement spilling over. “You didn’t tell me we’d actually meet him!”

Scarlett, still holding onto her mask of politeness, glanced at her daughter with a calm smile. “Well, sweetheart, it was a surprise. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Jack blinked, momentarily stunned by the surrealness of the moment. Scarlett was really going to do this—pretend they’d never met, never loved, never been ripped apart at the seams. And her daughter had no idea.

The girl’s energy was infectious, though, and she stepped forward eagerly, her hands trembling as she extended her phone toward Jack. “Can I—can I please get a picture? This is like, the coolest thing ever! I’ve been a fan for years! I love all your songs!”

Jack glanced at Scarlett , searching her eyes for some kind of signal, but all he found was that same polite smile, so perfectly controlled. He swallowed his emotions, nodding toward Maya with a forced grin. “Of course. Anything for a fan.”

Maya practically jumped up and down, handing her phone over to Urban, who was grinning like he knew something nobody else did. The girl bounced to Jack’s side, beaming up at him as he put an arm around her for the picture.

Scarlett stood off to the side, watching the whole thing with a detached expression, her hands folded in front of her. She looked like a spectator in her own life, watching from a distance as her daughter unknowingly gushed over the man who had once broken her mother’s heart.

After the photo was taken, Maya looked up at Jack, her eyes wide with admiration. “I can’t believe this is happening. You’re such a legend! I’ve been to all your concerts. Mom, isn’t this crazy?”

Scarlett smiled again, that same well-practiced smile. “It’s quite something,” she agreed lightly, not giving anything away.

Jack looked at her, his chest tightening. He could see what she was doing—how she was keeping everything locked up, pretending like this was just another encounter, but it felt like a punch to the gut. He wanted to say something, anything, to break through that wall she’d built, but every word he thought of got stuck in his throat.

Maya, still buzzing with excitement, pulled her phone back out. “Oh! Can I get your autograph, too? I didn’t bring anything to sign, but I have my concert shirt! Wait, do you need a pen?” She began frantically digging through her bag, clearly overwhelmed by the moment.

As Maya fumbled with her things, Jack looked back at the actress, who was watching him with that same unreadable expression. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t let this moment slip by without acknowledging what was really happening.

“You sure we haven’t met before?” he asked quietly, his voice low so her daughter wouldn’t hear.

Scarlett paused for a moment, her eyes locking with his. For a split second, something flickered there—something real, raw, and unguarded. But just as quickly, she blinked, and the mask was back in place.

“I’m sure,” she said softly, her tone as smooth as ever. “Just two strangers, passing through.”

And with that, she turned her attention back to Maya, who had finally found a pen.

Jack swallowed hard, nodding numbly as he took the pen from the girl. “Yeah,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Just two strangers.”

***

AN: Hello hi ! New series! Please please please let me know what you think and if you’d like to see this series continued 🙂‍↕️

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[lenaswritingandstuff]

All I had • Mattheo Riddle x f!reader

Requested: No well I lowkey did

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!reader

Summary: After his girlfriend y/n is killed, Mattheo has to deal not only with pain and sorrow, but also cruel accusations (complete original prompt here)

Word count: long as hell 2.4K

Warnings: mentions of death, lost, and grief

A/N: When I had this idea a few weeks ago I didn't think it would actually be so hard to write and I hate it lol :) I can't remember for the life of me if people in universe know Voldemort wants to be immortal, so for this one be an angel and pretend they do :) Might write a part two with a certain someone if many people ask 👀. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Hogwarts, 1997.

The two Aurors were walking right behind him, firmly holding his arms to prevent him from running. Run where? he thought. Not that he had somewhere to go. Snape, who had always looked at Mattheo and his brother with an annoying suspicion, was walking ahead of them, his robes floating behind him. Mattheo didn’t know where they were going, or why. Not that he actually cared. Even though the Auros were leading his movements, his legs still seemed to be carrying him on their own, and if he didn’t try to resist, protest or at least ask questions to the silent Aurors, it was only because he didn’t have any energy or will to do so. Everything, including his body, felt numb and his mind was clouded, not functioning properly at all, barely noticing or hearing what was happening around him, instead full of the events of the night, as if it was trying to look for a reason. The only thing he could feel was the grip of the Aurors on his upper arms, the painful dryness of his blurry eyes, his throat sore from crying, his still wet cheeks, and this feeling of unbearable pain, anguish and confusion inside his chest.

After walking through countless corridors, they finally arrived in a smaller corridor, where Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were apparently expecting them. It often came as a surprise to those who didn’t know, but Mattheo actually held great respect for the old headmaster. How could he not? He was the only person his father had ever feared. Dumbledore was still the same as usual, looking calm and serene, while McGonagall looked at Mattheo with what seemed to be sadness. As they came closer, Mattheo saw a simple gray door on the right, which suddenly opened. 

“Mr. Riddle,” Dumbledore said with a calm, almost kind voice, and Mattheo only raised his eyes towards him for a quarter of a second before looking at the ground again, “I will have to ask you to sleep here tonight. If you are in need of anything, please feel free to ring the bell. But I assure you, everything will be alright.”

‘Alright’? Mattheo would have laughed if he could. Behind him, the Auror snigged. Mattheo didn’t speak a word, and when he turned to pass the door, he saw Snape give him a more suspicious look than before. He managed to enter the room, which was a rudimentary bedroom with a bed, two chairs around a small rounded table with a small golden bell on it, and a sink. No window whatsoever, only a few candles floating in the air and drawing shadows on the walls. 

“If you wish to turn the candles off, just ask them to sleep,” Dumbledore told him.

“We will be back in the morning,” one of the Aurors told the Headmaster, and then the door closed abruptly, leaving Mattheo completely alone with his thoughts and the cold silence of a cold room. 

After a long, boring day of classes, he had spent the evening in y/n’s dorm, talking and cuddling, enjoying the comfort and peace only her could make him feel. Then Theo texted him, asking him if he fancied a smoke. Mattheo initially wanted to refuse, not wanting to leave y/n’s embrace, but she told him to go, that she didn’t want to keep him away from his friends. And so Mattheo went, going to one of the darkest corners of the castle where he and Theo knew they wouldn’t be caught by any professors and especially Filch. But the smoke break lasted much longer than usual, and when Mattheo went back to y/n’s dorm, planning on continuing their night together and eventually falling asleep with her in his arms, he walked by the castle’s courtyard and, in the dark of the night, saw something strange on the courtyard’s ground. Frowning, he had hesitated before slowly walking towards it, curiosity leading his mind. The closer he got, the more the strange “thing” on the ground, the clearer the mass on the ground got, and soon it appeared to be a body. Despite the fear that it might be someone he knew, Mattheo had quickened his pace, and barely a few meters later, he recognized whose body it was.

Oh, God. No, no, please, no. Not this. Anything but this.

At the second he recognized y/n’s body, he ran towards it and fell beside her, immediately holding her to his chest, gently shaking her despite his panic which grew every quarter of a second. 

“y/n?! y/n, can you hear me? Baby?” 

But he didn’t get any answer, and when he checked her pulse, he had almost felt his heart break from the pain. 

“No, no, no, y/n, please! Fuck!”

Tears had started to feel, and he was now screaming. He didn’t know how long he spent here, holding her body as tight as he could, crying like he never thought he ever would and begging her to come back, to not leave him alone, but at one point, someone had seen him, had a loud gasp, and had ran to tell someone. Soon, Professor McGonnagall and two Aurors were here, and they tried to take her from him. He screamed and protested, not wanting to let her go, but they managed to separate them, and Mattheo was then led there, his entire being shattered in pieces and his mind unable to work knowing she was gone. 

Not caring to take off his shoes, Mattheo laid on the bed, and tears started to run down his cheeks. She’s gone, she’s gone, his mind kept screaming, and yet, it refused to accept it.

This is just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. I’m gonna wake up soon. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink or eat, Mr Riddle? Professor Dumbledore insisted.” 

Mattheo barely looked at the Auror sitting on the other side of the metallic table, and kept silent. He could hardly keep his eyes open, too tired from not sleeping at all the night before - and yet not feeling sleepy at all. 

“Well,” the Auror continued, putting a long, thin black bow on the table. “I guess we can start, then. Mr Riddle, do you know why you’re here?” 

Mattheo shook his head. 

“Really?” the other Auror asked, sitting next to his colleague. “No clue? At all?” 

This time, Mattheo raised his eyes towards the two men for a few seconds, and tried not to find weird the way they were looking at him - with disdain, coldness, and something he couldn’t quite get yet - as, after all, a lot of people looked at the son of the Dark Lord with suspicious - Snape included - or even fear, and he got used to it. Why would their eyes matter, when y/n’s eyes looked at him with nothing but love?

And now I won’t ever see them again. Mattheo felt his eyes becoming watery, and tried to fight tears as much as he could. 

“Because y/n is gone,” he said, looking at the table. 

“You’re right,” the Auror on the left said. “But allow me to be more precise, Mr Riddle. Miss y/l/n is gone… because you killed her.”

Mattheo’s mind, still as cloudy as the night before, suddenly cleared up like and working like a machine being turned on. He looked at the two men, and suddenly understood the reason they had been looking at him like that ever since they came into the room a few minutes earlier. They think I’m guilty. 

This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare. This isn’t real. I’ll wake up any moment and see her sleeping next to me. 

Shock, anger, and a bit of panic and confusion came into him like a gigantic wave. “What? I didn’t kill her! Why the hell would I kill her?” 

This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare.

“Oh, you would be surprised at all the reasons why a man could kill his girlfriend. She caught him cheating, he caught her cheating, she saw something she shouldn’t have seen…” the Auror stopped, and looked at Mattheo with malice. “Or maybe he wants to prove himself to his father.”

If he could, Mattheo would have laughed. Here it is. The “son of the Dark Lord” bullshit. He ran his hand through his hair, and sighed.

“You think I killed y/n because my father asked me?” he asked, trying his absolute best to remain calm. “Why would I have accepted?” 

“Well, you’re the second son. The spare. Your father likely planned for your brother Tom to be his second in command, and, if he were to die, his heir, didn’t he? And then, what do you have left, Mr Riddle? At best, you remain the spare and then your brother’s second in command your whole life, and in the worst case… Nothing.” 

y/n. I would have y/n. 

“Dumbledore told us your father tried to contact you last summer,” the second Auror spoke. 

Mattheo felt annoyance growing inside of him, “and did he also tell you that I refused, and hid from him the whole time?” 

“Yes,” the first Auror admitted. “He did say you told him that. But how can we be sure you didn’t lie?” 

Mattheo closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. 

“So, you guys think I’m a murderer just because my father is? For no other reason than that?”

“Actually, Mr. Riddle, the main reason we do believe that, is because…of that.”

The Auror took the long, thin black bow he had put earlier on the table, and opened it before showing the inside to Mattheo, whose eyes opened in surprise. 

“My wand?” 

“Yes, Mr Riddle, we-”

“I lost it,” Mattheo interrupted with a louder voice, feeling his heart beat faster, “I lost it yesterday sometime after class. Where did you find it?!”

“You lost it?” the Auror asked while crossing his arms, sounding amused, “Well, did you tell anyone? Any teachers?”

“I went to tell Professor Snape,” Mattheo answered, “but he wasn’t in his office. I waited for him for almost an hour but he never came back. My friend Lorenzo saw me, I asked him if he knew where Snape was.”

The Auror shared a look that told Mattheo they already knew Lorenzo had seen him - and yet didn’t believe him.

“Now,” Mattheo continued, more annoyed by the second, “where did you find my wand?” 

“Why, near you, Mr Riddle. When we found you near your victim’s corpse,” the second Auror said as if it was obvious.

The dark-haired boy stared at them in disbelief. “What? No, you’re…You’re lying.”

“And when we used Prior Incantato, we saw that the last spell your wand used was the killing curse.”

“That’s why he brought you here, Mr Riddle”, the second Auror continued immediately. “If we didn’t find your wand near you, our theory wouldn’t be based on anything. We might even have believed you when you’re telling us you didn’t kill miss y/l/n.” 

“I did not kill her!” Mattheo screamed. 

The Auror sighed, “Mr Riddle, please. Out of respect for miss y/l/n and her family, do tell us the truth. They deserve justice.”

“You’re lucky, you know?” the second Auror went on, “If it wasn’t for Professor Dumbledore, you’d be in Azkaban, awaiting your trial.” 

“I’m innocent!” Mattheo yelled, feeling himself going mad. “I told you the truth!”

“Alright,” the Auror said with a loud voice, putting a clenched fist on the table. “If you didn’t do it, then who did?” 

“How would I know?” Mattheo snapped. “I found her body in the courtyard, and I didn’t see anybody else.”

“See? You can’t give us a second option. Our talks with teachers and students told us Miss y/l/n had no enemies, was loved by both classmates and teachers alike, and her parents are good people. No one had a reason to kill her, except for you.”

“We don’t need to know the reasons on why you did it, Mr Riddle,” the first Auror said in an almost kinder, more patient tone. “Even though we have some ideas about the ‘why’. Just admit you did it.”

“Admit you did it because either your father asked you to do it, or because, despite your best efforts to make people believe you’re different from him, the truth is, you’re just like him.”

“I didn’t do it!” Mattheo screamed. “How many do I have to tell you?! I didn’t kill y/n! Someone must have taken my wand and killed her! How can you not see that?!” 

The first Auror sighed, meanwhile the second clenched his jaw. 

“Mr Riddle, y/n-”

“DO NOT USE HER NAME!” Mattheo shrieked. 

But the Auror ignored him, closing his eyes for a second, “y/n had a family, friends, people who loved her, and a whole life with a bright future ahead of her.”

Yes. And all I had was her.

“You took enough from her. Do you take away from her grieving parents the satisfaction that their daughter’s killer is not in prison, paying for his crime.”

Mattheo put his face in his hands, feeling tears burn his eyes. 

“I want to see my brother.” 

“Your brother?” the first Auror asked, and this time he sounded genuinely surprised.   

“Well,” Mattheo spat, raising back his head to stare at the two men, “someone should find y/n’s killer if I’m going to be in Azkaban soon, don’t you think?”

“So you admit it? You killed her?”

“No! For fuck’s sake, no I didn’t kill fucking kill her!” 

They didn’t understand, Mattheo thought with desperation and frustration, putting his head back in his hands. Mattheo couldn’t even remember how life was before he fell in love with y/n during their third year. All he remembered is that two years ago, in their fifth year here, he finally gathered the courage to let her know how he felt, and, by some miracle, this beautiful, sweet witch with a heart of gold felt the same way about him. Ever since, all that was inside his mind was y/n, how his heart, life and soul belonged to her and her only, how she was the only one to not see him as Voldemort’s son but how he really was instead, how she was always there for him, especially when he started feeling anxious when his father came back after the Triwizard Tournament, and how their kisses, their hugs and cuddles and sleeping with her in his arms were the most important things to him. And now, he had lost it all. 

The two Aurors suddenly rose from their chairs, and left the room, leaving Mattheo alone with his broken heart and nonfunctioning mind. 

This is a nightmare, this is a nightmare.

PART 2

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Masterlist

[tiredfox64]

Hellooo! First of all, I love your fics, especially Tomas's. They are very entertaining and the way you write is just great ^^

This is more of a question than a request, although you can develop it further if you want.

How would the linkuei trio react to a s/o who says "I hate men... except you"

It came to me out of nowhere and I thought it was funny 🙃

There Are Exceptions

Prior notes: Hehehe I throughly enjoyed writing this. Also I forgot to say this with other people’s requests who gave me compliments but thank you so much for liking my writing! (*´∀｀*)

Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Men

Bi-Han

These dim witted, nitwit goobers who serve your husband are too much to handle. All they know how to do is punch and kick. They have no other survival instincts that can save their asses.

It’s so tiring being the one to try to help them with whatever. A woman can only do so much.

You tried teaching them how to sew only for them to say something stupid like it’s a woman’s hobby. Forget about cooking. You have never seen someone screw up scramble eggs so much that it doesn’t even form. How the fuck does it stay watery? And why are you the only one who knows how to fold clothes? Screw steaming out their wrinkles.

Your last straw today came in the nighttime when one of the clansmen came up to you and ask the most stupidest question you have ever heard.

“Uhm, some of the men were telling me that a woman’s period was when she peels her skin every month. Is that true? Cause if it is you hide it well.” This clueless assassin…oh goodness.

You just stared blankly at the young man. It had to be a joke, right? They can’t be that stupid. Actually, you don’t want to know if they are that stupid. You walked away briskly with one thing on your mind and you had to shout it out. The moment you walk into your bedroom you slammed the door shut and screamed,

“I hate men!”

Bi-Han was already in bed, waiting for you to come around. He stared at you with that grumpy expression he always has before folding his arms in front of his chest. A low grumble was being emitted by him.

How can you say you hate men when you are married to one? One that treats you like the queen you are considered you are the grandmaster’s wife. He is also one who pleasures you till you are fully satisfied. Course, it’s more like you have to go on until he is satisfied.

“…except you.”

“Mhm, that’s right. I should be the exception here. I am the grandmaster, I deserve your full respect.” Bi-Han reminded you of his role as if he doesn’t do so every day.

“And you are also my husband,” you walked up to him and placed a kiss on his forehead, “Now would you mind spooning me for tonight.”

“After that outburst, I am unsure if you deserve it.” Now he’s just being petty.

You pouted as you changed into your sleepwear. If Bi-Han looked for at least five seconds he would have caved. But he looked away immediately to prevent himself from changing his decision. You huffed as you slipped into bed. You went on your side and pretended like you didn’t care. You did because you always lost the idgaf war.

“Please, I love you.” You said over your shoulder.

Bi-Han let out a groan before turning over and wrapping his arms around your waist. Haha you win.

You may not like men but you love this man. You like this man because he’s your man.

Kuai Liang

Why does no one think of the logical answer to something?

You go out to the market all the time so you could help feed the Shirai Ryu. It helps lessen responsibilities for your husband. But even this simple task is made difficult and stupid because of some of the venders. More specifically the men.

You asked for watermelon and they hand you plastic containers with the funkiest bits of watermelon. They are discolored and are definitely past their ripeness. Yet they all tell you it’s fine. It’s not fine! It’s not good quality! Why even cut the watermelon in the first place you can do it yourself!

You want some mangos? Well you can’t fucking have any because they don’t got it. Oh what’s that? A BUNCH OF FUCKING MANGOS RIGHT BEHIND THEM! And they tell you that those are honey mangoes you didn’t specifically ask for those. They told you no because they thought you wanted Haden mangoes. Just give the woman a fucking mango!

You’re so over those male venders. They never even help you pack the carts up.

You’re too tired went you get back to the temple. You let everyone else pack the food away without helping out this time. You can’t be bothered. You take your shoes off, step into the temple, and sigh heavily.

“I hate men.” You groaned.

You didn’t realize Kuai Liang was coming up to you to greet you. You looked up and saw his face. He stared blankly with a bit of concern.

“…except you.”

You wanted to make it right so you ran up to him, giving him many kisses and hugging him.

“What has made you so hateful, my love? Did someone at the market bother you?” He asked with concern.

Kuai Liang was not at all mad at what you said. He found it odd which meant there was something wrong. His hands went up to check if maybe it was something physical. He would hate to find out you were hurt while out. What kind of husband would he be if he can’t protect his wife?

“Many people bothered me at the market today. Some people are unfortunate stupid.” You replied.

“Perhaps you can tell me all about it in bed. I’ll make you some tea to help with the stress.” He took your hands as you both walked to the bedroom.

Kuai Liang is the kind of man you need in your life. If only the men at the market had his intelligence. Though you do like being cared for when there is any sign of distress from you. It makes you feel like a princess.

Tomas

To help train the Earthrealm champions is like trying to train a seal, a kangaroo, a bison, and a Komodo dragon to leap at least a meter out of the water. One will succeed, another will jump but not reach it, another one won’t try to jump, and the other will be too busy trying to mate with you.

They are all nice in their own way but Johnny is the worst of them all. You tell him you are happily married and it’s in one ear and out the other. Just because his marriage failed doesn’t mean yours has to.

Kenshi is alright he just has stubborn. He believes it’s nerves that wins fights. If that were true why does he keep failing to you. And when he is not going against you he’s going after Johnny’s throat. You get it, Johnny won’t give back Sento. But now is not the time to bust his ass.

Kung Lao just gets on everyone’s nerves. You have never seen a bunch of monks ready to implode and strangle someone. Don’t forget that you almost lost your head because he flung his hat in the wrong direction. All you got back was a small ‘sorry’ before he took his hat and ran off.

And Raiden…he’s fine. He’s done no wrong.

Yet no matter what you always have to return and help the fools. You give and give and what do you receive? Hell!

You are exhausted when you return home. You don’t talk to anyone you just go straight to your bedroom. You let out a groan the whole time and when the door closes you let that groan become words.

“I hate men.”

Tomas was already waiting for you in the bedroom. He was walking up to you to hug you until he heard those words. He looked concerned and even a little sad.

Well he’s a man, do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He hopes he didn’t, he doesn’t want an unhappy wife.

Your attitude immediately went away at the sight of Tomas.

“…except you.”

You ran into his arms and hugged him tight. You could never hate a man like Tomas. He is your husband after all. You picked a good one compared to all the other men that you have seen.

“I’m guessing they upset you again.” He asked.

You nodded. The day is already over you don’t feel like talking about every single stupid thing that they did. Tomas understood and hugged you tight.

“Do you want me to beat them up?” He whispered jokingly in your ear.

For once today you laughed. He always manages to bring a smile to your face. You wish you could let him but that would be a bad decision. Though it’s funny to think about. He was just happy to hear that wonderful laugh of yours. It just shows that he’s a good man to you. He can turn a frown upside down and make you see the good in men. Or at least the good in him.

After notes: Can you tell I got pissed off with Kuai Liang’s part? That shits a little too true. Those instacart tik toks be crazy. Here’s a little experience of when I hated men: one didn’t take no for an answer for YEARS. He still can’t take no even from other girls. But most of the men I know are good. Alright enough yip yap I must march on. Adiós!

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Playing With Fire

24/12: A Fancy Party & Praising - modern!Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: raunchy texts, pussy slapping, public sex, p in v sex, praise, dirty talk A/N: missed these two??? It's our Perfect Score duo!

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

She hates these events. Hates the pomp and ego. Her situation has changed but the figure skating business certainly hadn't.

Since returning to Singles, Rhaenys had encouraged her to get involved in it all again, as much as she knew she loathed it. Connections were everything after all. And she supposed it was an excuse to have a glass of bubbly.

Rhaenys was in her usual flawless getup. A floor length pale blue, with the corset littered with sparkles. Except this time, instead of dragging her around by her forearm, she'd bought her doting husband, Corlys, and was dragging him around instead.

She gravitated instantly to Baela and Rhaena, dressed in matching blues. Baela wore a skin tight dress without sleeves and it was such a dark blue that in some light, it could've been black. Whereas Rhaena matched her blue to Rhaenys, bar all the sparkle, since she insisted it was 'tacky'.

She'd rolled her eyes at that.

Some things never change.

"Hello, you", she turned to find a familiar face, voice and mop of curly brown hair.

"Jace!"

He gave her a tight-lipped smile and a friendly hug somehow without really touching her, "nice to see you out on the ice again."

"Oh, you know me, can't keep away", she smirked, throwing a lock of waved hair over her shoulder.

Yet another familiar face poked from the shadows, "miss me?"

Both Jace and her smiled brightly, "Cregan, nice to see you!"

"You too," he smiled, "fucking hate these things."

She gave a dry laugh, "yeah, me too. Just an excuse to have some fancy food really."

Cregan laughed, "at least you're honest."

As the glasses of bubbly began to work their magic, her head swirling pleasantly, she watched Jace and Cregan laugh with each other, and then Baela and Rhaena alike.

There was a full ache in her chest, tapping her fingernails against the glass flute, wishing that a certain person was also here to accompany her.

She had respected Aemond's decision to not attend events such as this.

He would support her at matches, cheering from the sidelines, even watching when she practised, sometimes joining her, but he couldn't for the life of him force himself to go to an event where he might catch a glimpse of Alys Rivers.

He'd get no judgement from her for that.

Besides, if Alys Rivers ever dared to show her face in the same building as her, she'd face her wrath.

She finds herself, absentmindedly sipping the tart prosecco, her third she notes, listening to Corlys Velaryon harp on about how amazing Rhaenys was in her day. How sensually she moved, how she used to wink at him from the sidelines and-

“Okayyy…I think I've heard just about enough.” She says awkwardly. Without that he might have gone on forever.

“Apologies. I can't say enough things to describe her.”

She nods, “I'm lucky to have her as a manager, certainly. Excuse me.”

She blinked a few times as she slid away, through the brilliantly dressed people, downing the rest of her bubbly as she pushed the glass doors towards the back of the hall to get some fresh air.

She fanned herself with her hand, feeling all hot from the humid air vaped off everyone’s bodies inside. Her phone illuminates her face as she pulls it from her clutch, a smile rising to her lips to find Aemond’s name as the most recent contact to have sent her a message.

She laughed quietly, her thumbs moving quickly to reply, heart all aflutter.

There’s a long quiet. Those three lines to say he’s replying come on, then off, then on again.

Um.

What. 

Okay. What the fuck.

Her eyes were like saucers, the cold blue light bouncing off them as she stared at his response.

Gods, what the fuck was Aemond on??

She found herself looking around briefly.

Aemond hadn't known what she'd worn. How could he have?

She was stunned for a moment, her thumbs unmoving as her eyebrows furrowed at her screen in confusion.

It was a good job she was outside, the squeal she let out bounced off the walls when she felt two hands sliding around her waist.

If she were a different person, she'd have used her clutch as a weapon, it was certainly heavy enough.

But in the end she's glad she didn't as she whips around to be greeted with the familiar smirk, platinum tied-back hair and mismatched eyes of Aemond.

Her phone nearly falls from her hands in shock, "Aemond, what the fuck?!"

He chuckles breathily, "Nice to see you too, princess."

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, gaining her breath back slightly, her chest feeling hot but at the same time, a smile rising to her lips at his presence. Stupidly, seeing him is just what she needed.

"Thought I'd come and see my girl, only to find that yet again that cunt Northerner is trying to get into her pants."

She swallowed at the way he'd said it, all low and halfway between flirty and angry. And ashamed as she is to say it, a warmth drifts between her thighs, her insides clenching around nothing, remembering perhaps the borderline dirty words he'd typed over text.

"I was...just being nice-"

"Oh were you now?" he drones, leaning forward impossibly close, a platinum strand falling from behind his ear to frame his sharp features. His hand on the wall on one side of her head feels close, half caging her in and the anticipation of his proximity is suffocating.

His gaze drops to her outfit, akin to the one she wore when her and Aemond had to attend their first shmoozing event back when they worked in Pairs.

"You do look gorgeous," he starts, humming appreciatively, "I remember you wearing something like this back when we hated each other."

"We didn't hate each other." She rolls her eyes, not able to help the smile that quirks at her lips.

But Aemond cocks his head, narrowing his gaze, "Uh huh, sure. Well you hated me then," he grins, "in any case, princess, I'm not sure I can wait for us to ditch this place."

Her lips part, unsure what he means until he has her pressed to the wall, his tall, broad form easily framing her in to trap her, rather enjoying the lost, dumb look on her face as his fingers trickle down to the hem of her dress.

"Aemond!" She whisper shouts, looking around as her face burns at the thought of being so brazen out in public like this. If anyone came through those horrendous glass doors... the thought has her core throb with danger and her skin alight with nerves.

"What? I promised, didn't I?" He muses, his lips descending to place open-mouthed kisses on her neck, below her ear, "I said I'd fuck you stupid."

Yes, but I didn't think you meant here, is all she's able to think.

But her mouth fails to move as he rucks up her dress to her middle, surprised in himself to find there was nothing beneath.

"Trying to impress someone?"

"Can't wear underwear with this dre-ah!"

She has to cover her mouth when Aemond slaps her harshly right onto her hot core, throbbing with want for him by now she's sure. The action, so lewd and exciting, has her clenching around nothing.

"Yeah yeah, don't want your pathetic fucking excuses, princess," he utters darkly, his tongue running over the bit of skin he'd just bitten lightly, and she mewls, turning into a choked moan the second he eases two fingers into her.

She's not as wet as she would be with some preparation, but right now that's half the thrill. She's still excited enough from his words over text alone that there's no pain but only the stretch of his fingers as he crooks forwards, brushing that spot inside her that has her toes curling in her heels.

She grabs his wrist, "fuck-Aemond-"

"There it is. Such a dirty fucking girl for me, aren't you."

She nods feebly, not even really listening, too focussed on tightening her grip on him as he pistons two fingers into her, the tightness in her belly beginning to crest as Aemond brushes her sweet spot with every push inside.

"Fuck-I can feel you tightening around me you little slut."

He punctuates it with yet another wetter slap as he pulls his digits from her, making her let out a muffled squeal.

She barely has time to crack her eyes open before Aemond is pressed up against her, his hands grasping her thighs to pull her up the wall against him. He only really needs one hand to do it, his chest anchoring hers to him as his other fumbles with his belt.

"Tell you what, if you can be quiet for me, I'll let you cum." He breathes against her lips, his jaw all tense like this is all he's been able to think about since he saw her.

"Aemond, wai-"

He doesn't.

Both of them have to stifle a sort of relieved moan as he slides into her, the stretch of him never failing to steal the air from her lungs. Her arms tighten around his back, all ideas of being caught or the fact that there are several dozen people inside the building next to them right at this moment, is completely distant.

The first genuine thrust he gives makes her want to cry out, but she thinks better of it and presses her lips together, each movement of himself inside her making that task ten times harder. But the prospect of not being allowed fulfilment is the thing that keeps her from it.

"That's my girl - that's my good fucking girl - doing so well-"

She's ashamed to say how the praise shoots straight to her core, tightening around him so impossibly much that she swears Aemond fucking whines when he tries to push inside her again.

"Aw, did you like that, baby? - do you like being my good girl?"

She's not sure if she nods or if it's the force of Aemond's brutal thrusts that is making her head move, but he takes it as confirmation nonetheless.

"Fuck - I could stay buried in your pretty little pussy all fucking day -" he muses, his voice all strained the longer he continues his rapid pace, his skin that pokes out from beneath his shirt meets hers with a soft slap, her face heating up when she feels that her slick is beginning to come away on him each time.

And she knows she's done for as soon as his hand drifts down between her legs, his thumb playing with her pearl with the aid of her arousal.

And he expects me not to make a sound or cum? she thinks to herself.

She keeps herself together through sheer stubbornness if anything, the two overwhelming pleasures at once threatening to have her topple over the edge at any moment.

"My perfect girl - come on, I can't wait any longer, want you to fucking soak my cock, come on-"

He almost sounds impatient, and if the needy tone of his voice doesn't propel her into rapture, the way he presses his thumb against her clit certainly does. And she falls over the edge with a muffled whine into his neck, near sobbing with pleasure as Aemond doesn't let up, fucking into her with abandon to chase his own when he feels the way she clamps around his length.

She lets out another moan to chase the last as she feels Aemond's shuddered breath and the warmth fills her as he hits his own high. Staying like that for a brief, warm moment, before he sets her down on wobbly feet.

He grins at the exhausted look on her face as he pulls her dress down, not missing the way he's already started to leak out of her. But he can't talk, he's all flushed in the face as well, tugging his trousers back over his hips.

She adjusts her hair, all frizzy from the moisture in the cold winter air.

"Come on then." He grins wolfishly.

He walks the opposite direction she expects. And her brows furrow in confusion as Aemond heads to the glass doors, to go inside the venue.

"Where are you going?"

"Can't go without at least saying hello to everyone, now can I? Maybe I'll speak to Cregan Stark."

Her mouth hangs open in shock, "Aemond-"

Your cum is running down my thighs. She wants to say.

And he seems to understand, based on the way he smirks at the warmth that graces her cheeks in embarrassment, "Come on, princess, don't be rude now."

She bites her lip in annoyance, hooking her arm into his.

If she didn't love him, she'd kill him.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Imagine Cauis having a human partner which honestly makes him upset and a bit disgusted. He doesn’t bother learning about her and just sort of forces her to stay in the castle. She gets sick of being disrespected by him and him being so controlling so she tells him off.

Surprisingly to both of them, he sort of loves being told off by her. He finds it cute, intriguing and maybe even a little sexy.

Y/N: “Now you listen to me, right now! To you I may seem like a child, but I am an adult and I am more than capable of taking care of myself. You have forced me to live in a place full of beings who either hate me, want to kill me or both. I understand the law of your people but if I want to leave this place, I will and you will respect me! You don’t have to like me but if I am you ‘mate’ as you say then the least you can do is respect me!”

Y/N: *chest rising and falling with rage filled breaths*

Caius: *staring with an intrigued smile*

Caius: “You truly do not fear me. For a human you are quite interesting.”

[ambcass]

Can I request Bruce Wayne x kid reader, where the reader is really shy and hardly talks to anyone, and when they meet someone new, the reader hides behind Bruce's leg. The reader is clinging to Bruce, like a lost puppy, but at some point Bruce has to leave and the reader has a full on melt down, crying and screaming. Trying to find Bruce, the reader somehow escapes the manor and tries to look for Bruce, but they get overwhelmed with the people and the cars. Luckily Gordon finds the reader and recognizes, so he calls Bruce. Later Bruce and the whole Family arrive, and Bruce never leaves the reader ever again.

OMG I ACIDENTALLY DELETED AN INBOX!! IF U MADE THE PERCY JACKSON ONE IM SORRYYY :(((

anyways request pls :)

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"And who is this cutie?" a woman wearing a red dress points to you. You were on Bruce's side, lost in a trance before you heard that woman address you. You quickly hid behind Bruce and peeked your head out. Bruce looked behind him and smiled.

"This is ___. They're a bit shy but once you get to know them, they are a bundle of joy." The woman stepped closer and extended her arms.

"Awe, come give me a hug," she said in a warm tone. You backed up, furrowing your eyebrows. Bruce stopped her and started explaining how you didn't come from a great environment before meeting him. The woman pouted but respected your past.

"Poor baby...I'm so sorry," She placed her hands on her chest. "I'll leave you two alone now. I'll see you later Mr. Wayne" She winked at Bruce and then left. You came out of hiding, you held on to his hand. Bruce gave you the "okay" signal, meaning that he was done with this gala, and it was finally time to go home. The two of you walked out of the "palace" and headed to the limo. The windows rolled down, and Alfred was there to greet the two of you. Bruce opened the door and you leaped into the car.

"Alfred, Alfred! Can we please, please, please go home" you whined and shook your legs. Bruce got in the car and closed the door. Alfred giggled and started driving away.

"I take it that your trip was fun?"

"Not even. We have so much in common, the two of us hate galas," Bruce answered and turned towards you. "Isn't that right,___?" You nodded. For you, the ride took so long that you started falling asleep. Your eyes couldn't keep open and eventually, you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

Once you arrived back to the manner, Bruce carried you back. Placing you on your bed until you wake up. Waking up, your vision slowly started to clear up as you walked out of your room.

"B-bruce...," you called out. "Bruce! Where are you?" your heart started to beat faster and faster. You ran down the stairs calling for Bruce and Alfred but no response. Walking back and forth, running in circles through the manner.

You knew it was a bad idea, but you did it anyway. You left the manner to search for him, the both of them. Ran down the hill, heading for the streets, cars were running at 50 mph but you didn't care that you were going to get hurt. You just wanted your dad.

At this point, you're out of breath. You sat down on the side of the crosswalk. Tears flood your eyes. You start hyperventilating. Breathe. You told yourself. Breathe. That's what Dad would want. You felt a tap and jolted up.

"___? What are you doing here? Where's your dad?" A guy in his mid-40s looked down at you. It was Commissioner Gordan. You went to give Gordan a big hug as you sobbed in his arms.

"W-where's Bruce. I can't find him!" you cried out. Gordan stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

"It's going to be okay, we'll find him...I'll give him a call, alright?" His soft expression made you realize that you were safe. Safe from everything from the outside world. Godan gave Bruce a call and minutes later he arrived. The moment you saw him, you ran towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"What are you doing out of the house?" Bruce asked. You did nothing but ramble countlessly about how much you missed him and Alfred. A person emerges out of the car and speaks,

"Hey sweetie, what can your big brother do to help you feel better?" Your oldest brother, Dick Grayson came out from the car. You took a look in the car and saw the other three. Jason, Tim, and Damian.

"The others are gonna arrive at the manner later. Meanwhile how about us four spend time with our little sister. How does that sound?" Dick asked and you nodded. You entered the car and Bruce followed.

"After today, I won't ever leave my little girl at home alone ever again."