#this was saved in my drafts like FOREVER ago

[crystalpallette]

so I finished side order recently

[paperhats-and-evil-schemes]

Nosy anon here, wondering if you perhaps have any snippets of your recent fic stuff that you'd like to share? Totally no worries if the answer is no though, of course! Only if you wanna. :)

As much as I do appreciate the enthusiasm, I don't think I'm feeling up to posting fanfic stuff again quite yet. I don't really have a particular reason to give as to why, just kind of not in that headspace as of right now, sorry... ┐(=w=;)┌ Maybe another day! Just not right now. Again, I still do really appreciate the love, though! <3

[chidoroki]

the duality of tumblr is incredible..

blog gets marked explicit by mistake? fixed in less than ten minutes.

but have them try to figure out a solution as to why i can’t delete an old post of mine that i have had stuck in my queue for almost two years now? WHO KNOWS?? they clearly dunno how to either!!

[highvern]

Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them. 

So you go as late as possible. 

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone. 

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial. 

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.” 

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch. 

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back. 

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is. 

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat? 

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week. 

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips. 

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit. 

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary. 

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt. 

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!” 

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.” 

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.” 

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s. 

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up. 

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this. 

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.” 

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?” 

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold. 

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck. 

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth. 

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.” 

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.  

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager. 

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half. 

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case. 

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[lale-txt]

❥ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒? ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚, 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢, 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢, 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 & 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

a/n: reader is gn! back with my drabbles; i just love trying to convey a very specific mood or scene in 200 words or less, it's SO fun and challenging. i already have longer HQ fics drafted but those really help me getting a grasp of those chars (and i don't have to decide on only one boy because there's so many who have my whole heart heh). i hope you enjoy this boquet of sweets from me to you ♡ some additional thoughts at the end of this because apparently i have PLENTY ok bye

word count: 1.3k

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 scoffs softly. Of course he got you flowers. He would have bought everything inside the damn florist shop if you had enough space for it in your tiny apartment. This bouquet of wildflowers must do for now; it’s so huge, it makes you vanish behind it completely when he shoves it into your hands the second you open the door for him. He can hear you laugh in surprise and that is enough for him. A few minutes later you watch him from where he sat you down on the kitchen counter, rummaging around the cabinets and searching for a vessel that can serve as a vase because the ones you have are way too small for the size of this bouquet. Under his breath he mumbles something about how you stubbornly refuse to let him buy you a house already, one with endless fields of flowers surrounding it; then he wouldn’t have to waste his time searching for a vase big enough and could just kiss you in a sea of petals. You both know that it’s only a matter of time till that happens.

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 doesn’t fully remember when this tradition started. Years ago, it must have been in high school, when you were down with a cold and he brought you your favorite snacks and a bundle of flowers from the conbini after school. They were nothing special, wrapped in plastic and close to wilting soon, the price tag still on, but he can never forget the ways your eyes lit up when he put them down on your bedside table. Your voice had been so hoarse that day, you barely managed to get a Thank You out, and Iwaizumi didn’t know what else to say either, so he just sat on your bed and held your hand till you dozed off again shortly after, leaving him with all those buzzing feelings inside of his chest. How many flowers has he bought you ever since, week after week? It must have been hundreds. How many times has he kissed you somewhen between bouquet 84 and 931? Countless times. He won’t stop doing either of that in this lifetime.

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 is overthinking again. One finger rests on your doorbell, the other is nervously fidgeting with the wrapping paper. Should he have read more about the language of flowers before coming here? What if he accidentally picked some that actually say “let’s just be friends” or “I like you only mediocrely” and not “you’re the light and love of my life, and my heart has never been fuller ever since you claimed it as yours, please will you be mine forever–in this life and each one that comes after that, beloved”? His hand clenches around the bouquet and he’s one heartbeat away from turning around on the doorstep and walking back to the flower shop, when you open the door smiling, so bright that Akaashi thinks he must have walked into the burning sun. Your fingers brush over his when you reach for the flowers, and he doesn’t register the words coming out of his mouth at this moment, his mind clouded by the thought of what your future wedding bouquet will look like. He will do some research for that later tonight, after giving you a hundred kisses. 

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 laughs quietly when he opens his mailbox in Animal Crossing. You sent him the Hello Kitty items, including the matching hat and dress for him to wear next time you stream together, paired with a sweet love note that he immediately saves to his favorites. Needless to say that he keeps all of them. Under the thick blanket you (wearing one of his sweaters) rub your cold feet against his, and giggle next to him when you unwrap the flowers he sent you in-game. Lying on top of both of you is your cat named Apple Pie, who purrs and makes biscuits, ensuring neither of you would be able to get up anytime soon. You mentioned once how you liked the in-game flowers better than real ones, because it made you sad to see cut flowers wilt and wither over time and the pixel ones would stay like this forever–just like the two of you, hopefully. Kenma leans down to press a kiss to the side of your neck and wonders briefly how he managed to get so lucky. If he had the magic power to freeze time, he would, but until he levels up he will keep you in his arms like this for a little longer. 

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 is looking proud of himself when he puts your plate on the counter and nudges it towards you. The three onigiri on it are decorated with tiny edible flowers, and your loud complaints about how they’re too pretty to be eaten make him laugh. So are you, and yet he still gets to devour you night after night. You look so ravishing, taking photos of your food from every possible angle to post them on your food blog later, with your tongue poking out between your lips like it always does when you’re focused. Osamu thinks that out of every person in the whole world, he must be the luckiest of them all because only he gets to call you his. He doesn’t have it in him to tell you to hurry and eat up already, knowing there’s some things you just can’t rush–food, love. The latter he learned from you and your incredible patience, and how you molded his heart into the shape of you with time, with gentle hands and stolen kisses, till he was all yours, only yours. 

𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 nearly drops the flowers in fist when he fumbles for his keys, his sports bag almost sliding off his shoulders, one shoe untied. It’s messy, but he can’t wait to see you. You’re probably asleep by now, sprawled out on the couch with the remote still in your hand, re-playing his game on repeat. Seeing you cry earlier because you couldn’t go to watch him play in person broke his heart a little; he simply hates seeing you upset like this (and maybe it was also on him for telling you the leftovers in the fridge were probably still good to eat). He doesn’t flick the lights on, just walks straight over to the couch, a big hand brushing strands of hair out of your sleeping face. No feeling in the world can compare to you nuzzling your face into his palm and mumbling out his name drowsily. Bokuto drops the bundle of dandelions he picked on his way home into your nearly empty water glass on the table before carefully scooping you up in his arms, carrying you back to bed. For once he’ll be the big spoon tonight, making sure you sleep safe and sound. 

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 insists on facetiming you, even if it’s 2AM for him and you’re still jetlagged, being back in Japan after visiting him in Argentina. By now you’ve found all the little notes he left in your luggage, hidden between your shirts, souvenirs and in your toiletry bag, but there’s still one surprise left now that you’re back home (even though home is when you’re with him, but whatever). You’re busy complaining about the horrid traffic and your shitty boss and Oikawa barely listens, mesmerized by your face and the sound of your voice, and thinking about the ring he’s gonna put on your finger soon. On his screen you look up when your doorbell rings and the camera gets a little shaky when you rise to your feet, opening the door to the delivery of a bouquet of your favorite flowers, so big you struggle to grab it with one hand. For a bit all Oikawa can see is blossoms in the brightest colors and can only hear your surprised laughter, along with some curses because how dare he be so sweet when he’s an ocean apart where you can’t kiss him right now. Soon, he’ll be there again soon.

❥ 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭…

i REALLY like old money Omi who just wants to spend all his money on you but also kinda enjoys the cramped little apartment you live in. it feels like a bit of a cave and he likes that there's only room for both of you in there

Hajime childhood friends to lovers trope my beloved. how long it must have took you both to sort out your feelings for each other, one boquet at a time

i think Akaashi would write the best love letters

Kenma bullies ugly villagers off his AC island and he's really good at terraforming and will help you out with your island (this is based on me being terrible at terraforming and giving up after ten minutes)

Osamu and you started off as enemies to lovers because you left a bad review about Onigiri Miya once and so he invited you over to prove you wrong, and you fell in love one bite at a time (i really wanna write a SMAU on this but idk if i can pull this off, so if someone wants to grab this idea let me know so i can kiss you)

LITTLE SPOON BOKUTO AGENDA 🗣️ listen just imagine snuggling against this broad back, kissing the back of his neck, his butt wiggling as he gets comfy...

Oikawa idk what to say. i love him dearly but he feels the hardest to write to me

[intrepidacious]

❤️ a good time!

tat!bucky’s favorite (or least favorite) thing about twelve

… why not both?

cause and effect

chapter summary: How Bucky fell in love with Twelve: Slowly, and then all at once.

pairing: bucky barnes x time witch!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: light angst and negative self talk (this is bucky y'all); some light pining 🤭please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: i've literally had this one in my drafts for about two years and i hadn't actually planned on posting it for a while yet but i did promise distractions. and i missed him. i always do.

this is part of the time after time universe but can be read as a teaser and/or a standalone 💚

Bucky’s relationship with time has been fractured ever since a cold day in January that stole away the life he was headed towards and turned him into the monster underneath a child’s bed.

It’s hard to feel good about the concept of time travel once a lot of your own time has been taken away from you. Even now, there’s only so many things in his life he has control over; like the fact that he’s actively choosing to go back to therapy now, or that he’s able to keep a pet for the first time since he was thirteen years old. Stupid little things, like what kind of food he wants for lunch or whether he should take the stairs or the elevator.

Every single one of these things he’s fought for tooth and nail, clawing his way out of the past and carving out his own space in reality again, struggling, trying, hanging on like he wasn’t able to all those decades ago.

He’s probably still failing.

Some days, clinging to the present is tense and brings him nothing but grief. Sometimes, it feels like he’s going to have to mourn the past forever, whatever might have been; and maybe that’s his sentence.

He wouldn’t have wished it on anyone. He deserves worse.

And then there’s you.

Flickering in and out of time, constantly moving, changing in the time it takes him to blink.

It’s infuriating to him, the way you get to use your powers. The way you don’t need to think about consequences, because they don’t have to be permanent, don’t have to be something you need to live with for the rest of your life. To you, time has always been something that can be changed with a single snap of your fingers. Whatever you do can just as easily be undone.

Once you decide you’ve seen enough, you can just take the scene from the top.

And you’re so stubborn.

You’ve already seen how this goes on if you let it, and so you’re always right, end of story. There’s an ease to your steps because of it, a nonchalance in every movement, and it makes Bucky’s blood boil to see it so plainly.

With all the good that you could do, you choose to do nothing instead; to stay out of the picture entirely and burn through your powers just because you can, wasting them all on things that don’t mean anything.

How many lives could you potentially save?

Instead, you consume disturbing amounts of caffeine and then continue to provide running commentary to the world around you based on things that, to him, never happen at all. "Do this", "don’t do that", "take the other one", or, his absolute favorite, "don’t make me fix that".

Why not? he wants to ask, say, demand. Why not fix all of it?

It takes a while for him to realize that all of your fire means you’re burning from both ends. In fact, it takes Becca.

"You should bring her by sometime," she tells him on a rainy afternoon. "While I’m still alive and kicking."

His little sister just turned ninety-eight. Her kitchen sideboard is filled with black-and-white pictures reminding him of all the things in her life that he missed, arranged in perfect little wooden frames.

"And why would I do that?" Bucky asks, scowling at his cards.

"Because you keep mentioning her," Rebecca says dryly and whisks the cards onto her pile with quick fingers.

"You gotta be kidding me," he groans, noting down her points. "And I don’t."

"Do, too. I don’t remember you being this terrible at this game."

"Because I haven’t caught you when you’re cheating."

"Exactly. It’s embarrassing." She wins the next trick, too. "How’s Tuesday?"

"Am I clairvoyant now?"

"I was thinking lunch."

"No." Finally, he gets a couple of points down. When he glances up at his sister again, she’s looking at him expectantly and he sighs. "What?"

"You can’t fault me for being curious," she says. She has just as many opinions as she did when she was sixteen. Her eyes are still the same, too, the same shade of blue as his and the same glimmer of archness as their mother.

"Don’t you think it’s weird?" Bucky says, finally giving in. "The whole … time thing?"

"I think it’s very weird, but so’s you returning from the dead and kvetching about it." Her eyes narrow when he starts to protest. His mouth closes again. "Besides," she continues, shuffling her hand around, "it doesn’t sound all that fun."

"To have the power to never make mistakes?"

"To have to live through every mistake twice without anyone knowing."

Something about her words strikes him like a match, and so he tilts his head and squints at her and thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s got it wrong.

That you carry not only your past, but all the futures you’ve seen that never came to be; all the what ifs having turned into answers.

And he thinks, how nice. And then he thinks, how horrifying.

It’s a thought that follows him over the next couple of weeks, and it starts reframing your interactions for him, in a way.

"Will you stop staring at me," you say without looking up from your book.

Honestly, he can’t. He’s still trying to pick up on it, the split second between before and after, that little change of your posture, your hair, your face, that tells him more time has passed for you than it has for him.

It’s more of a feeling than anything else, something right at the back of his mind telling him that something is different if he concentrates on it enough, but he’s never sure what it is. And he doesn’t like that; not one bit.

So Bucky crosses his arms and leans back. "Why?"

A flash of irritation makes your nose twitch, even though you still refuse to meet his eye.

"It’s rude, for one."

"Noted." He waits for the two that never comes. "Anything else?"

And there it is. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of moment, like the air shifting around you ever so slightly, a certain knowing glint in your eyes when you roll them and get up.

"Annoying!"

He can’t help it. He wonders what your original answer was.

***

Bucky’s relationship with time changes slowly, the deepest cuts carefully mending themselves until looking back doesn’t feel like getting his bones ripped apart anymore, until he looks at you on a cold day in January and realizes he’s fucked.

At first, he hopes that it might be a fluke. A trick of the light, maybe, or seasonal allergies. That’s the reason why his eyes are drawn to your face as soon as he enters a room; the closest source of discomfort always the thing he seeks out first. That’s the reason why his chest constricts like that.

But the truth is, he knows this feeling has been building slowly; he’s just been unwilling to admit it.

Something soft and delicate has started to nestle in that gaping hole inside his chest, unbothered by the walls he’s so carefully built up.

He’d never planned on you.

Fuck, if he’d known in the beginning, he might’ve …

No, he thinks. He wouldn’t have changed anything.

Because you’re too good for him, anyway, and he knows it. Smart and strong and funny and gorgeous and capable of things he’s not sure he’ll ever fully comprehend; and it’s worse than that, because he knows you now.

You’re grouchy in the mornings and you make terrible jokes when you’re nervous and you have a strange feud with his cat and your smile makes him want to put his fist through the wall because what is he supposed to do with any of this?

He’s not made for this dance anymore. That part was taken from him so long ago, and he’s delusional to think that anything or anyone could return it to him after all the bridges he’d been made to cross and burn. Why would someone like him deserve to be given tenderness anymore in this life? Why would anyone want to try?

But that foolish thing blooming inside him feels a lot like hope, despite of what he keeps telling himself.

There’s just something about you that keeps pulling him in, and honestly, he’s tired of fighting it. Then again, the thought of you feeling the same is nothing short of ridiculous.

He’s not the same guy as he used to be. Hell, sometimes he’ll look at old photographs and barely recognize himself.

He remembers life before, and maybe that’s what makes this so hard. He remembers talking to pretty girls, their bright smiles, their soft skin underneath his hands. Good times were easy to come by, even though life was hard in a different way, then. But he was good at it; acting on his feelings alone used to be simple, fun, second-nature almost.

It’s different now.

It used to be different only once before, and look where that’s gotten him.

No, he can’t say anything. Not ever; or not yet, at any rate.

Sometimes, though, Bucky lies awake at night and listens to the rain knocking against his window, and he remembers how much easier falling asleep used to be when he had someone next to him and his mattress didn’t swallow him alive.

He’ll remember the dark circles under your eyes and wish it could be as easy as asking, too. He wonders if there’s a universe you remember where he tries, but he doubts it.

These days, he knows his mind again. And it’s not a burden he wants to share.

You have enough to carry on your own.

Maybe, he thinks as he stares up at the ceiling at three in the morning, maybe there’s still a certain comfort in your powers, in knowing all the possibilities, but it also means constantly losing something that’s real; always mourning the life that isn’t.

He can relate to that.

And maybe that means you can relate to him, too, at least a little bit.

It’s odd, how comforting that last little thought is to him.

When he does eventually fall asleep, you make your way into his dreams, too, sometimes. Those times are the worst.

You’re you, and he’s him, and there’s a sort of "us" in the both of you that doesn’t exist in real life. So when you let him lace his fingers with yours and press your lips to his forehead and it feels easy, that’s usually the point when he wakes up, heart tumbling over itself, right hand tracing the ghost of your touch, always too much, never enough.

He knows it’s not real.

He knows it’s just an indulgence; selfish, really.

The problem is that whatever small hope has decided to settle in his very core is impossible to kill, no matter how much he pushes it down; and he’s not sure he wants to lose it again.

Secretly, silently, serendipitously, you make him have faith in the future again.

But it’s not time for it yet.

if you want to read more about these two (plus a lot of time related shenanigans), read the main series here. or check out the rest of my bucky fics, that's also an option 💚 i don't do tag lists but you can follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications

[sonotkari]

On Top

Mo Jihye x Fem Reader

[ Synopsis ]

Jihye loves saving her favorites for last, and the strawberry on top of her shortcake was not an exception.

Fluff

[ Word Count ]

1.2k berry berry short

[ a/n ]

Yes I said I was gonna be on hiatus but ended up finishing this draft that's been collecting dust TT it's been a while since I actually did not run away from my drafts and the typical "written in a short period" so heads up (why do I always give heads up these days... oh well) See you guys, never /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\

To sweet souls who love strawberries, dis for u bae <3

Jihye took a bite of her strawberry shortcake with a satisfied hum, a small smile appearing in sight as you too, followed and took a piece of your chocolate cake, savoring the sweet taste spreading, satisfying your taste buds.

What felt like a forever-lasting week had finally come to an end, and you and Jihye had both been on a tight schedule for so long now, making it hard to find the time to spend some quality time together.

Upcoming tasks and projects every 2 days, and Jihye starting her part-time job at the newly opened cafe by your apartment, made it hard for you to match both timings.

When you were back from uni, Jihye was already off to work, and by the time she was home, you'd be already in your dreams. When Jihye woke up, you were already off to uni, and by the time you got home, she was off to work and it felt like a never-ending saga.

So it still feels almost unreal that you and Jihye were sitting comfortably at the corner of a small cafe, cakes, and cups of hot lattes served in front of two while chattering your hearts out, catching up on the things you had missed.

"Do you eat it first, or save it for last?"

You gazed up to see your girlfriend grinning at you as she let the fork sink in and cut a piece of the cake on her plate.

"Hm?? What are you referring to, Ji?"

"The strawberry on top, silly" 

Your eyes shifted at the big red strawberry placed perfectly on Jihye's shortcake. You then remember a funny little memory of how you committed a bit of a harmless crime by stealing one of Jihye's strawberries back in high school, where the girl would drag you out to every cafe to "investigate" which had the most scrumptious cake in town.

Somehow, you were never fond of strawberry shortcakes. The cream was kinda too sweet, maybe even kinda mushy...? Not knowing specifically why you never got fond of the cake, you wouldn't even try and order it for yourself unless someone insists on giving you a piece.

But Jihye's strawberry shortcake?

The urge to see how she'd look shocked after taking that big red strawberry and how she'd pout like a half-crying puppy was just coming and you couldn't help but swiftly stab the poor berry and quickly take a bite while looking at Jihye, a wicked teasing smile creeping across your face as you do so.

It sank in well that you committed one heavy crime as soon as you saw her actually pout like a lost puppy who just got dumped in the streets. One typical story, but oh why you look at her face. As much as you found it adorable, it was heart-wrenching at the same time.

But it all soon wrapped up well at the end when Jihye had hummed happily, diddle daddling her way out of the cafe with the small white box in her hand, another perfect shortcake sitting inside which you bought for her to pay for the sin you just committed a while ago. 

Recreating that same teasing smile, you raised your fork from the chocolate cake and smirked at Jihye. 

"Is that an invitation?" 

"Ah-" 

Slowly pulling her plate closer, Jihye looked at you with a side longing stare before the both of you burst out giggles and chuckles. You endearingly took glances at your girlfriend happily munching her cake, trying to avoid the center where the so-called "perfect strawberry" was sitting.

Jihye had always saved her strawberry for last, every time she would have a shortcake. It doesn't only apply to that but mostly everything she eats, she saves favorites for last. 

"Saving it for last makes the happy feeling last longer" 

Just like a catchphrase, you remembered how Jihye used to always say that phrase every time you both would go eat, and you were there looking at the girl with her lips curved into a big big smile while savoring the last bit of her food.

As much as the girl was always good with her appetite for food, making it was also one of a million things she had skills with. 

==========

That one time when Jihye had a pretty high fever and felt too unwell to do things, you stepped in for her and did the work around the house. You were capable of what you needed to do to take care of your poor sick girlfriend. Except for one small thing. 

Cooking. 

Your cooking method never changed since you started learning back when you were little.

No instructions, no recipe to follow, no measuring of any sort of kind, just imagination. 

So it wasn't surprising when Jihye woke up to go and get a refill of water in her glass and saw you rushing here and there to the kitchen with a not-so-tidy table and sizzling noise coming from the pot (which is the not-good way of a sizzling sound) 

"You doin' good there Y/nnie??"

"Oh- uhm, hi Ji...!!" 

"Did your "imagination cooking tactics" not work this time??" 

You were trying to make her a rice porridge and in some way (which Jihye will never know where, how, or why) you failed to do so. So now it was her turn to step in and do the mixing and stirring while you were by her side looking a bit guilty that you made Jihye do all that while she was sick.

"I'm not wife material at all" 

"uh- what??" 

A soft chuckle couldn't be helped to escape Jihye's lips seeing you sigh as you repeated your words. 

"Y/n, you literally did everything you could for me today. If it wasn't for you I think I wouldn't even be here standing" 

Jihye says so and takes a spoonful of hot rice porridge, giving it a few blows before carrying the spoon by your mouth as you gladly open up to taste the best porridge you've ever tasted (even this to was meant for Jihye herself) and at the same time wondering how that mess you made a while ago turned into this five star Michelin. 

"Besides" 

She murmurs, gently wiping off the corner of your mouth before smiling softly again. 

"You're wife material to me and that's all that matters, no?"

==========

After some time of recalling nostalgic memories, you look up to see Jihye having her last bite of the cake, but one thing on her plate catches your eye.

"Really saving it for the very last huh??" 

After Jihye took a bite, she looked down at the neatly preserved strawberry before smiling. 

"Mhm. Saving it for last makes the happy feeling last longer"

She says so and takes the strawberry with her fork. But unexpectedly, she held out the fork in front of you. Taking turns looking at Jihye and the strawberry right in front of you confusingly, Jihye giggled at your questioning state before she spoke up.

"Giving my happiness to my dear girlfriend"

"Oh? I thought that was your most prized possession tho??"

You teasingly smirked a bit before outing a chuckle.

"Well, I guess I just love you so so much. So much more than the strawberry on top"

Somehow, you were never fond of strawberry shortcakes. But Jihye's strawberry shortcake? Specifically, the strawberry on top? Well, that might be your favorite one in the whole wide world. 

I act. made a rice porridge and ate it while writing this lmao

[polkadotpenguin16]

All the Days of My Life

A/N: Guess who's already back with another story! This one's much shorter, I promise. This was inspired by a Reddit post I once read and my friend getting married last week. Thank you, as always, to @misscharlielulu and @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity for reading my drafts and making them better.

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Word count: 1K

Also posted on AO3

It was a chilly fall evening, so you made some soup while waiting for Sonny to come home from work. While cooking was more his thing, it made you happy to do something special for your husband. You’d only been married less than a month, but you’d already grown accustomed to your new titles, husband and wife. That magical feeling from your wedding day still hadn’t quite worn off yet. Which you knew was ridiculous since nothing really changed that day. You’d already pledged your love for each other long ago and lived together for many years before tying the knot. But nonetheless, you bore the name Mrs. Carisi with pride.

You turned around when you heard the door click, greeting Sonny with a smile. “Hey, sweetheart, how was your day?” You looked over your shoulder as you continued to stir your pot.

“Eh, you know, the usual.” He sidled up beside you and kissed your temple. You leaned into him, trying to capture some of the warmth radiating off of him. You’d always call him your own personal space heater. A blessing in the colder months, but a curse in summer due to the amount of cuddles required to keep him happy.

“Fighting crime? Saving lives?”

He groaned at your remark. “More like interviewing creeps and filing paperwork.”

Sonny went through his routine of hanging his coat, locking up his gun, and pulling his phone out of his jacket. He snapped his finger as he realized he’d almost forgotten something. He rummaged through his pocket and fished something out before walking over and handing it to you.

You opened your palm to see that he’d given you his wedding band.

You stood there puzzled, staring down at the shiny thing. Confused about why he wasn’t wearing his ring, but even more so why he handed it to you. You racked your brain for some kind of logical explanation but were coming up blank. “Um…what’s this?”

Sonny looked at you incredulously. “What do you mean? It’s my wedding ring.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his brilliant answer. “I can see that, silly, but why is it in my hand and not on your finger?” You asked as your eyes darted between him and the ring in your hand.

Sonny made a sour face as flashes of his earlier case raced through his mind. Even the delicious aroma of your soup wasn’t strong enough to overpower the memory of the smell. “Was at a gnarly crime scene this morning. I took it off to scrub my hands when we got back to the station. Rubber gloves aren’t 100% effective, ya know.”

Your husband, the germaphobe. He held his left hand in front of you, and you finally understood what he was wanting. “Oh, you can’t be serious. You’re asking me to put your ring back on?” You knew Sonny was a sentimental sap with a heart of mush, but this was next level, even for him.

“You’re my wife. I’m pretty sure that was in our vows.” He still had his arm extended in front of you as he nodded towards his hand trying to encourage you to put it back on.

You covered your face to stifle your involuntary giggles. “I don’t remember ‘putting a grown man’s ring on whenever he takes it off’ as part of the gig.”

“Should’ve read the contract more closely, doll.” He tsked at you as he shook his head. “And I’m afraid—” He grabbed your left hand and pointed at your own ring. “There’s no returns or exchanges on this deal.”

You couldn’t help yourself but smirk at his reasoning. You humor the poor man with an overdramatic huff, returning his wedding ring back to his ring finger. “So I guess I’m gonna be doing this forever now, aren’t I?” Your voice raised sarcastically.

Sonny brought your hand to his face to kiss your matching band. “For all the days of my life.”

All the days of my life.

That was a part of your wedding vows. You internally rolled your eyes at how disgustingly cheesy this all was, but you couldn’t help but stare at this man in wonder. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found someone who loved you so much, so completely, that he wouldn’t feel right if it wasn’t you who was putting on his wedding ring.

The symbol of his love and commitment to you.

Well, you did promise for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. You supposed you could live with putting Sonny’s ring back on for you the rest of your life.

And from then on, you did just that. Every single time, you slipped Sonny’s ring back on his finger each time he took it off, no matter how silly the reason. Like whenever he was mixing ground meat to make fresh meatballs for spaghetti night. Or when you were packing to move to a new apartment and he didn’t want it to get scratched. Even when he was worried about getting electrocuted while trying to fix the light switch.

“What, you wanna be a widow already, doll?”

Then there was the time Sonny had acute appendicitis and needed emergency surgery. He woke up groggily in a hospital room, not completely remembering why he was there. Through his haze, he looked around the room, trying to put the pieces together when he noticed you sitting beside his bed. You gave him a warm, familiar smile, and he immediately felt more at ease.

“Hey, tough guy. How you feeling?”

He mustered up all his strength to groan out, “Tired.”

“I bet you are.” Your 6’ tall ‘superman’ looked so fragile lying in that bed, hooked up to various wires and tubes. A brutal reminder that he wasn’t, in fact, an indestructible superhero. But a mortal human whose life could vanish in an instant. “I have something for you.” You reached behind your neck to unclasp the necklace you were wearing. You fiddled with the chain and pulled off a ring.

His wedding ring.

You’d kept it close to your heart when he was in surgery, ready to give it back to him when he woke up. You took his left hand and returned the ring to its rightful place. He looked up at you with dopey, puppy dog eyes, his heart completely filled.

“What, did you think I’d forget?” You asked with a wink.

“Thank you, doll.” He looked down at his ring and gently squeezed your hand. “For always putting it back on.”

“And always will. All the days of my life.”

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Heya love,

Thank you for taking my request! I hardly think you can ever disappoint!

So, Autumn Court is a rather traditional court, and we know how discriminating against females it is.

Picture Rhys and the IC being invited to Autumn for whatever reason may it be. There, he decides to wander through the grounds. Somewhere in a secured area within the forest, he finds a female sitting by herself—too gentle and demure to belong to Autumn.

She’s shy in her discourse and neglects to tell him who she is. Eris pops up suddenly and pries the female away from him in a manner that’s too protective and possessive to be friendly.

Later on, Rhys realizes that this young female is Beron’s only, and youngest daughter. Secluded from prying eyes, Beron has made sure no one knew who she is until he was ready to marry her off.

But when Rhys finds out, and the mating bond snaps for him, he’s ready to fight for her. Going as far as to ask for Eris’ help, who happens to be extremely close and protective of his baby sister.

I hope that was clear enough and not at all confusing. Take your time with it, love! And feel free to change any detail you deem necessary.

Thanks again🩷

This

Is

Perfect!!!!

Thank you so much🤩💕I love it so much that the story started to play in my head on its own and continued even in the dream. Hopefully, you'll like it

Moon princess

Word count: 9600+ (oops)

Warnings: mentions of Beron, court machinations, swear words, but no fights and no blood this time

I'm thinking about writing another part where they are slowly getting to know each other. Which I originaly wanted to add into this one, but tumblr stopped cooperating somewhere around 5k words in, messes up with saved text and takes forever to respond. Message is clear, I guess I have again too many WIPs in drafts. It happens all the time 🙄 Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Rhysand threw the pen on the desk and sighing leaned back in his big leather chair. Since early morning he was sitting in the office, writing letters, reading reports and sorting out complaints according to the urgency. It was already past lunchtime, but he didn't get even half through all the documents. He needed some distraction at least for few minutes.

In the very nick of time, the doors flew open and Cassian casually strode in, a massive sandwich in one hand, a piece of paper in the other one. He held only the corner of it between index finger and thumb, glaring at it as if someone had used it as a tissue.

"So.. What are we going to do with the invitation?" he asked with a full mouth.

"What invitation?" Rhys looked up, tired. This was hardly the kind of distraction he wished for.

"This one," general waved the paper. He flopped down to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "From the Autumn Court."

Rhysand frowned. "I got invitation?" he asked with feigned calm.

"Yup," Cassian took another bite from his sandwich, a bit of dressing dripped on his shirt, but he didn't seem to even notice it. Rhys' mouth twitched.

"Oh, really? And remind me, when exactly did I get it?"

"Few weeks ago. Helion also got one. He wants to know what we assume about it and whether we will accept or no. He's still waiting for the answer by the way."

Rhysand raised brows at him. "So you wrote to Helion."

"Nope, he wrote to you right after getting it."

That was the last drop. Closing eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. "I think that we already talked about this at least a million times before, Cass. You can't take my mail, open it, read it and then keep it in your room."

Cassian threw up his hands and the dressing and slice of tomato flew out of the sandwich, landing on Rhys' expensive carpet. Rhysand eyed the stain, blood boiling in his veins.

"I don't do anything like that, bro! You know me. Plus, I don't remember that we've ever talked about such rule."

"That isn't rule I made up. It's called postal secret and privacy. Now bring all my mail! Immediately!"

"Fine, fine," Cassian fumed and rolled his eyes, but at last he stood up, throwing the invitation on the desk and left.

When the doors closed behind him, Rhys flicked his wrist and stain from the carpet disappeared. Then he reached for the invitation and cursed because it was smeared with dressing, too. Rhys licked his dirty fingers, commendably humming and wiped the rest of the dirt with tissue. His stomach loudly rumbled, reminding him that he should head out for some food soon.

He unfolded the paper, quickly scanning the text. Beron was inviting him and his family to a week of festivities on the occasion of a significant announcement. There wasn't written anything else, no more details. Rhysand sighed heavily, drumming with the fingers. His brain coils were working at full speed.

'Significant announcement'

What could it be? Considering that it was Beron, it couldn't be anything good. Because of Cassian, they had last two days left to prepare. He needed to know at least what to expect, so he could work up some plan later.

Azriel?

Claws of his power knocked on Azriel's mental shields. He answered right away, letting him in.

What?

Where are you now? Are you busy?

I'm preparing for the mission we talked about yesterday.

Rhysand considered it for moment, biting on his lower lip. Forget that thing for now or entrust it to someone else. This is urgent.

Azriel answered without hesitation. Fine. Are you in your office?

Rhysand loved how pragmatic Shadowsinger was. No questions. All he needed to hear to drop current job was that it was urgent. He didn't question him. Yes.

I'll be there in a minute.

When Az arrived, half hidden in his shadows as usual, he showed him the invitation and explained the situation. Azriel actually laughed when he heard how Cassian came, asking what was the plan. After that, he immediately disappeared in his shadows, heading to contact the spies they had in Autumn Court.

As expected, Azriel returned shorty before they were supposed to leave for the party. His spies didn't know much, only that Beron was secretly planning something big, the wards around his castle were strengthened and that the frequency of the correspondence between him and Spring Court increased in last two months. There was no time to contact spies in Spring whether they knew something more. Azriel planned to use the time they would spend in the Forest House to spy on Beron and learn more.

It was decided that only Rhys, Az and Cass would go. He didn't even try to ask Mor because he already knew the answer. However, he asked Amren and she clearly refused. She literally said that she would rather give up all her jewellery than listen to a single word of that old, pathetic excuse of a male.

Rhysand winnowed them to the Autumn Court close to the borders of the High Lord's estate. As soon as the world around them stilled, the brisk smell of autumn hit their noses. At gates, a dozen of soldiers stood on guard, armed to the teeth. They eyed them suspiciously, but let them pass. The three of them exchanged look as they stepped in, feeling the strong pressure.

"Putting up so strong wards and then inviting guests, one would think that your High Lord is planning something evil or he got himself a gem of size of his head," Rhys purred, but none of the soldiers even as much as blinked. Pursing lips he nodded. "Sharp guys. I wonder if they would stay still even if we started cutting off their limbs."

"I'm sure they would scream like females," Cassian grinned, folding arms on his chest.

"Are you trying to terrorise our guards, Rhysand?" a sly, bored voice spoke from somewhere behind them. They slowly turned around, arrogant as ever.

"Eris," Rhysand flashed his best cocky smile and shoved hands into pockets. "We are just merely testing them. Since when are heirs on the duty to come to the gates and welcome guests?"

"Ever since the so-called guests are mutts from Night Court," he snarled back, picking non-existent dirt from under fingernails.

Azriel was as always calm and composed, avoiding any attention, but Cassian was his opposite. He straightened up to his full height, squaring his shoulders and gritting teeth. "It's a good custom for the host to respect the guests, especially if they were invited, not to insult them. In Autumn, good manners seem not to be taught though."

Eris didn't react, only scoffed. He turned on the heel and started to walk towards the castle surrounded by reds and yellows. He showed them to their chambers connected by private sitting room, briefly informing them about the time of the evening party and that someone would come to show them the way later.

With a free access to the castle, Azriel didn't waste a minute and as soon as Eris left, he disappeared into the shadows to snoop around.

The party took place in a fancy ballroom. Rhys snorted at the sight of pure opulence, shoving hands into his pockets. Everything in this huge room was made of white marble with gold details, including a high vault ceiling. It was so polished that it looked like a mirror.

Autumn aristocracy and several of the High Lords were already here, so Rhys made a show of checking his appearance, keeping his mask of ruthless arrogance.

He had to admit that Beron knew how to show off his wealth. Massive golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, flooding room with bright light. In the vases next to each marble pillar around the perimeter of the room were big bouquets of flowers made out of gold and copper. The start of the party was planned for the sunset, so the whole room looked like made of gold. Amren would love this for sure.

Rhysand wouldn't let it show on his face, but inside he felt sick. It was overdone and suffocating. And he wasn't the only one who felt that way. Cassian was openly showing his disgust, Azriel scanned the surrounding from under his frowning brows, arms crossed on his chest.

"Finally some friendly faces and my favourite ones," a rich playful voice boomed on their left. Azriel rolled his eyes, not bothering to even look at the coming person and murmuring something about the need of a strong drink, he left. Rhysand with a cocky smile turned in time to see Helion, the High Lord of Day Court, giving a hug to Cassian.

"Good to see you, friend," he purred.

Helion hooked a muscular arm around his shoulders and winked. "What do you say about the host's taste?" he pointed with his chin to the ballroom, speaking lowly only for his ears.

"I say you must feel like home here," Rhys snorted.

Helion pursed his full lips, thinking about it. "Not really. But the drinks are good here," he swirled the golden liquid in his glass and waved them, already heading to the crowd. "I hope to see you later in the privacy of your room, so we can catch up."

Rhysand gave him just nod and his eyes turned to the dais in the same moment as High Lord of Autumn with his wife and sons appeared. Rhysand tried to keep his face emotionless as his eyes fell to the Lady of Autumn. He hated to see the visibly mistreated female, something about her reminding him of his late mother even though unlike Lady of Autumn she was strong and wild and didn't let his father to treat her badly. Maybe it was the motherly vibes they both shared.

He rather averted his gaze to the gathered crowd and half listening to Beron's speech, let his powers lurk around, looking for any useful information he could get from these people. His violet-blue eyes searched for Tamlin, the High Lord of Spring, between the High Lords. Maybe if he played it off well, he could find out more about the business Autumn and Spring were cooking up, but his golden hair and tall figure were nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile, Beron finished his boring speech with a promise of the big announcement on the end of this week of festivities. Rhysand despised the idea of waiting for the whole week. He needed to know what was going on in order the prepare for it, eventually come up with plan to sabotage it. The sooner he knew, the better.

He tried to find Azriel's mind in the crowd to give him orders, but with satisfaction he realized that Shadowsinger wasn't anywhere nearby, most likely already snooping around High Lord's quarters where he intended to send him. That male was a real workaholic.

As the evening progressed, Rhysand got even more bored. Chat with other invited High Lords led to nothing as none of them wanted to discuss anything of real importance at place where they could be easily heard by wrong persons. Cassian was cleaning plates, Azriel was who-knows-where and even Eris seemed to slip out to the night.

In need of fresh, cool air he moved to the terrace and then down to the gardens, looking for a quiet, dark corner where he could blow out the steam. The sounds of party slowly grew distant, number of guests on an evening stroll decreased. Rhysand didn't want to be disturbed, so he walked more deeper into the dark gardens. Thinking that he found the secluded place he needed, he looked around, noticing guards pacing on the edge where gardens turned into a forest. That piqued his interest. What could possibly be worth of guarding in the forest?

He merged with the night, getting pass the guards unnoticed. It was too easy and thus it was no fun. He hoped for at least a small hitch to make tonight interesting. Hopefully, whatever was hidden there, would be worth of the effort and provide him with some sort of excitement.

He dragged through the forest looking right and left, searching for something that didn't fit in. After half an hour he was ready to call it off, marking it as a great waste of time, when he noticed a soft light behind the thick bush. Carefully stalking closer, he stayed hidden in the darkness of autumn forest and took a look around.

There, hidden behind bushes and trees, spread out a clearing bathing in the cool silver light of full moon and in the middle of that on a fallen tree trunk sat the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Her petite figure with soft features and porcelain skin glowed in the night. Dark brown silky hair fell in waves to her tiny waist. Dressed up in light, white dress that reflected the moonlight, surrounded by hundreds of fireflies, the small female looked like being of another world. Devouring that fragile beauty, he suddenly remembered the bedtime story mother used to tell him, his most favourite one. How could he forget it?

The story was about Moon Princess who spent her entire life, night after night watching Fae live, dance, laugh and love. Her desire to spend at least one day with them and experience the same things they did, grew so strong that she got sick, slowly fading away. When her father, Moon King, learnt about her desire, he decided to grant her her wish in order to save life of his only daughter. And so Moon Princess descended from the moon to the clearing in the deep forest, instantly feeling better.

At that time, young prince happened to be in the forest on his way back home, witnessing her descent. He immediately fell in love with her and took her to his castle. Gradually, she fell in love with the prince, but when the month her father granted her was coming to its end, she became sad and again fell ill. Her father couldn't stand to see his daughter suffer so much and allowed her to stay with her prince. After some time they got married, had a lot of children and grew old together.

When Rhys was younger, he dreamt about finding his own Moon Princess and having his happily ever after with her. Seeing this gentle creature in the woods now, he felt like he was witness of descent of Moon Princess he waited for. She took the air from his lungs and captivated his heart. Before he knew what he was doing, he stepped out from the shadows. Not wanting to scare her off, he cleared his throat, making as much noise as possible on his way to the fallen trunk.

Despite his efforts, she winced, covering lips like petal of rose flower with her delicate hands with elegant long fingers. Her doe eyes of colour of deepest sea gazed up at him. Recovering from the initial shock, she blushed, readying to run away.

"Don't! Please, stay. I mean no harm," he raised both of his hands, trying to calm her down. She was like a frightened animal. Rhysand assumed it would be for the best if he introduced himself.

"I'm Rhysand and I'm guest of the High Lord of Autumn. I was just on a walk when I noticed you sitting here alone. Are you lost?"

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

"What Court are you from? I happen to know all High Lords. I can help you get to the right one."

"I'm.. from here," she spoke shyly, her voice sounded to him like the sweetest melody. He swallowed hard, his palms sweating. What was wrong with him? He was feared High Lord who had more lovers in his life than he could count, yet he felt like inexperienced youngling.

"Can.. can I sit down here with you?" he asked out of breath.

How pathetic, Rhysand, he scolded himself. You finally found female of your dreams and you behave like total idiot. Bravo! She will certainly fall for you and agree to meet you again. You need to come with something better than this.

She bit on her lower lip, considering it, but at last she nodded, moving as far from him as she could. Rhys put on his most dazzling and kindest smile and sat down next to her. She blushed even more.

"The moon tonight is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, my lord, I suppose it is."

Rhysand snorted. "I'm not your lord. Please, call me Rhysand or just Rhys if you want. How should I call you?"

Female nervously fidgeted her fingers. "I think I should go." She was about to stand up.

Rhys' hand shot up instinctively, his fingers firmly but gently wrapped around her wrist. Mother above, she was so small and fragile like a porcelain doll. "Please, stay. I understand. No names."

She weakly twisted her wrist in his grasp and he let her go. She sat back down and Rhys sighed with relief, licking his lips. He wanted to make her speak more, yearning to listen to her voice from now until the end of his life.

"Do you come out here often?"

"I'm not allowed to go out much," she whispered hardly audibly, her shoulders slumped.

"How so?" Rhys asked with concern, his gaze again roaming over her petite body. However, he didn't get the answer.

Eris emerged from between the trees, his features twisted in anger.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed and taking female's hand yanked her to his chest. He looked her up and down, checking her for any injury quite roughly.

"Hey! Stop treating her like that! You are hurting her, asshole," Rhysand couldn't stop himself, his mask naturally slid down to its place and he was again fearsome High Lord. He stood up baring his teeth, ready to fight him off if necessary. He wouldn't mind to even kill him to protect this Moon Princess, as he decided to call her until she told him her name, and maybe even after that.

Female's eyes widened at him, but she didn't dare to say a word.

"How did you get here, Rhysand?! This is a private place where guests aren't allowed. If anything, the fact that guards stand at entrance to the forest, should make it more than clear."

"And you," he turned to the female. "What did you do here with this bastard? Why didn't you immediately leave when he appeared? If he finds out what happened here, we both will have a serious problem! Do you even understand that?"

"I'm so sorry. I wanted to leave, but.." she mumbled, cringing, her face pale.

"But what?! Return to your room! Now!"

"I don't know and don't even care who she is to you, but I won't allow you to talk like that with her," Rhys grabbed front of Eris's shirt, staring him down. He was only a few inches taller than the Autumn heir, though the effect was the same.

Female gaped at him in shock, but as soon as Eris let go of her arm, she backed few steps, then turned around and ran away. Rhys wanted to ran after her to make sure she wasn't hurt, but he banned himself to even move. His outburst was bad enough, giving out too much.

They stared at each other, heaving.

"Back off, Rhysand!" Eris snarled lowly.

"No!" he growled back. "Who is she?"

"That's none of your business," Eris glared at him, unmoved.

"Now when I met her, it is my business. I won't just stand by and watch someone hurt females for absolutely no reason."

Pushing him away, Eris burst into fit of laughter. "Good joke, Rhysand, really. Maybe you should clean up your own yard before you start poking your nose into other people's affairs." With that he left, heading in the same direction as the female.

Rhys just stood there, taken aback, gazing after his receding back. He didn't want to admit it, but Eris was right. There was still too much to improve in his Court, but that didn't mean Eris had any right to point it out. In this regard, Autumn wasn't any better than Night.

Later that night Rhysand was pacing in their sitting room, while Azriel and Cassian watched him from couch with concern.

"Don't you want to finally tell us where you disappeared?" Cassian groaned, sipping his drink.

"Did you find anything out?" Azriel added. Ever since he returned he was frowning, angry that he not only couldn't find anything useful, but also that Beron's office and chambers were so warded that he wouldn't be able to get in even if he had a whole month for it.

"Nothing like that," Rhysand growled. The thought of the female and her scared gaze where eating him up. He needed to see her, to make sure she was all right. But where to look for her? Then his gaze fell to his brother, half hidden in his shadows. If anyone was able to find her, then only he.

"Fine, so listen up," he groaned. While still pacing back and forth, he told them everything about his encounter with her and described every detail he remembered.

Azriel listened him attentively, nodding at last. "I will look for her while spying around. But I have to warn you - don't keep high hopes. There's an entire part of castle where I nor my spies couldn't infiltrate no matter how many times we tried it. And we work on that for years. If she is held captive in this castle, they can keep her there."

Rhysand sighed and ran hand through his hair. Eris knew her, but he wouldn't tell him anything. Could she be his lover? Or some secret fiancée? Wife? Or she belonged to another Vanserra? Just imagining that such fragile, young female was here to satisfy Beron's needs made him feel sick.

He needed to calm down, to do something to change the flow of thoughts, so he stepped to the bar and poured a glass of whiskey. He emptied the glass in one gulp, the liquor burning his throat. He grimaced and poured himself another glass. He sat down.

Cassian and Azriel started to discuss something, but he couldn't focus on their words even if he wanted. He could still see her in front of him, surrounded by silver moonlight, beautiful and so unearthly. He was only snapped out of the memory when Cassian put his big hand on his knee.

"Stop it," he muttered in amusement. "It's nerve-wracking when you nonstop tap your foot. Even Azriel here is getting nervous because of you."

"I don't-"

"You do," Azriel nodded, corners of his mouth twitching. With raised brow he looked at Cassian. "What do you think? Finally?"

"Finally," general agreed.

Rhys was confused. "Finally what?" he snapped.

"You are in love," Cassian howled with laughter and Azriel joined him shortly.

"I'm not in love. I'm just worried," Rhysand retorted, crossing hands on his chest and almost tipped the drink on his expensive shirt.

"And now he's even blushing like an innocent schoolgirl," Cassian was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"What's so funny?" Helion appeared on the threshold, light smile playing on his lips.

"Nothing. They are just two bored idiots," Rhysand groaned. Helion was the last person he wanted to find out about his encounter. High Lord of Day was the worst gossiper in entire Prythian.

"Oh, c'mon. I want to laugh, too. I'm bored here. This is the worst Court to be in."

"Because you would like to make out with a certain lady who is out of your reach?" Rhysand grinned. This lifted his spirit a bit.

Helion groaned, flopping onto other couch. "Don't even remind me of that matter."

To that Cassian started to laugh even harder.

Helion frowned at him. "Is he okay?" Rhysand only shook his head.

"Two lovesick birds," Cassian tried to calm down, Azriel next to him was massaging his hurting cheeks. He hadn't laughed so much in ages.

Helion watched them with wolfish grin and shiny eyes. "Idiots or no, I'd love to see them worn out in my bed anyway."

Azriel stopped smiling immediately, the idea had never been to his taste. Cassian just shrugged. "Maybe some other time, but thanks," he playfully winked at Lord of Day who obscenely ran teeth over his lower lip.

"I'm already waiting for the day."

Rhysand cleared his throat, grinning. "So.. Did you come for something specific or just to make obscene proposal to my brothers?"

"Actually, yes," Helion smiled, still undressing his long-term targets with eyes. "I and other High Lords are worried. You certainly already heard about something going on between Autumn and Spring."

"Sure, I did."

"I didn't see Tamlin at party tonight. I have quite bad feeling about this."

"Me too, friend," Rhysand swirled the golden liquor in the glass. "Me too."

"I guess that you don't have more detailed information on this matter that you could share with me."

"Unfortunately, I know just as much as you and the others. Azriel here is trying to find out something while we are here and his spies are snooping around in Spring, but we haven't heard anything new from them, have we?" He turned to Shadowsinger who only shook his head.

"But if you find out something, you will share it with us, right?"

"Of course I will. I can imagine only one scenario in which Beron is after the access to the Wall and human lands. We both know very well what it would mean."

"Do you think that Tamlin would allow such thing?" Cassian asked seriously.

"We can only hope that he has enough common sense to not allow it," Rhysand emptied his second glass.

The room fell into a heavy silence.

The week of festivities passed quickly. Beron prepared all kinds of activities to keep his guests entertained. Rhysand had stopped counting the number of hunts, competitions and banquets he absolved right after the first day.

Azriel spent most of the time in the shadows, spying all around the castle, following Beron like hound, but there were no news about the female nor the plans Lord of Autumn had.

Rhys started to have very bad feeling about this all and grew nervous with every passing day in dark. He kept his eyes on Eris who was obviously ignoring him, hoping he would make a mistake and take him to the female. However, Eris, the cunning fox, after the first ball never left the room, participating on every event from the beginning to the very end.

When it was finally time for the last ball, Rhysand was so nervous and irritated that even his brothers were avoiding the conversation with him. And he wasn't the only one. All gathered High Lords seemed to have enough of this shit show and masquerade, waiting only for the big announcement.

That evening, the atmosphere in the ballroom was suffocating, none of the Lords bothered to tune off their powers anymore. When Beron with his family appeared on the dais, five pairs of hostile eyes gazed at him from the crowd, waiting.

Thank you for coming and blah blah blah, Rhysand didn't really listen that old asshole, not until Tamlin appeared on the dais next to Beron who announced that they were intending to make an alliance together. Tamlin seemed to be taken aback to see everyone and to hear that they spent the whole week here, so apparently he wasn't invited for the shit show nor Beron bothered to notify him about the recent events.

"And to confirm my good intentions, my only daughter, Selene, will marry Tamlin," Beron declared.

The wave of shock ran through the crowd. As it seemed, even Autumn aristocracy didn't know about the existence of the mentioned daughter. High Lords looked at each other. Their worst fears had come true. Beron was after free access to the Wall.

However, right at that moment, it was the last thing Rhysand cared about. The doors behind Beron again opened and from the dark of the hallway a small figure emerged. Dressed in dress of moonlight colour with dark brown waves styled into a complicated hairstyle, his Moon Princess walked into the room. She looked up and their eyes locked. Exactly as that night in the forest, her beauty took all the air from his lungs, but it wasn't the only thing that happened at that moment.

Something inside him broke, the crack so loud everyone in the room had to hear it. And in that hole in the middle of his chest, a shimmering gold thread formed, blooming like a flower. The thread shot out, bridging over the entire room. Gently touching his Moon Princess, it wrapped around her and bound their souls together.

Rhysand watched it all with wide eyes and slightly opened mouth. As understanding hit him, he wavered and took a small step back, shocked. Beron's daughter was his mate. The Mother had a strange sense of humor, but in certain way it made sense. The feeling he had when he saw her on the clearing, the pull, the need to make sure she was safe. Of course she was his mate.

"What's going on?" Azriel, always the most attentive, as the only one noticed his moment of weakness.

Rhys couldn't take eyes off of her, barely managing to force his lungs to work again. "She's.. she's my.." He didn't need to finish the sentence.

Azriel's eyes also widened, jumping between him and the female. Even Cassian who overheard them, gaped at him.

"Are you sure?" Rhysand gave him a look and Azriel shook his head. "Of course, you are. Whatever you decide to do now, you can count on me," he said darkly, tendrils of shadows dancing around him.

"And on me," Cassian pat him on the back.

After the shocking announcement, the party was naturally over or at least for High Lords certainly, as they all left right away.

Helion stopped briefly at the doors of their chambers with grave expression to tell them that all the High Lords agreed that the wedding must not take place. For some reason they expected that the Night Court would take care of that, but they were ready to assist them if needed.

Honestly, Rhysand didn't remember much from what had happened after the bond snapped for him, not even how he got back home and to his bed. He lay there in the dark, unable to sleep, all the satin sheets suddenly too scratchy and insufferably hot. His mind was nonstop returning to the only thought - he had a mate and she needed his help.

He tried to analyse the moment when it snapped for him. He was curious whether she felt it too. Though, no matter how many times he replayed the scene in his head, he couldn't find a proof she felt it. Her eyes were sad, her expression shy and guarded. She walked into the room, stopped at Tamlin's side and accepted his waiting hand without a single wobble. She was shivering like leaf in the cold breeze, but all for the different reasons. At dawn he finally came to conclusion that she didn't know about the bond.

He kicked off the blanket and changed. He was determined to solve this problem as soon as possible. He wouldn't leave his mate in hands of any other male.

The Town House was completely silent when he ran down the stairs taking two at a time. The wedding was supposed to take place on the day of the autumnal equinox. That left him only a month to solve this. He didn't have much time and had to start right away. He rushed into his office, almost breaking the doors, and took a sheet of paper and a pen. Quickly he scratched letter and without reading it again sent it. He waited for the reply whole day, without leaving his office. He didn't even eat nor sleep. When there was no answer, next morning he wrote another letter.

Nobody came asking him what to do. His family already knew where they were needed the most. Azriel took all his spies and dividing them into two groups, he sent one group to Spring, the other one under his lead headed to Autumn.

Cassian collected all information and maps they had of the Forest House and looking for places where wedding could take place, he began preparing plans from kidnapping the bride before the ceremony to snatching her from groom's hands before they could say their yes.

Amren shut herself up in her apartment, searching old books with ancient magic for the ways how to break through wards.

For Mor, this was hard. She couldn't be much of help in this case, so she took it upon herself to take care of her cousin and made sure that he ate three times a day, took shower and tried to rest. She gladly accepted the role of an emotional support, listening to all his worries and self-loathing whenever he was in mood to talk.

On the fifth day when there was still no answer, Rhysand decided that he wouldn't wait any longer. He only had a limited amount of time and it was inexorably running out.

Without invitation he winnowed to the clearing near Tamlin's manor in Spring. As expected, it took only mere seconds and Tamlin appeared in his beast form, ready to turn the intruder into shreds. When he saw Rhysand waiting for him, he slowed down.

"What are you doing here?" he growled angrily. "I thought that not sending a reply is quite a clear answer."

"So you read the letters. I need to speak with you. You are doing enormous mistake-"

"That is not your business!"

"The problem is that it is my business. It's all High Lords' business, for the fuck's sake! You are going to open for Beron a way to the Wall!"

Tamlin snorted. "No, I'm not. I would do no such thing!"

"But yes, you are. Why else would Beron want to make an alliance with Spring?!"

"I can assure you that he won't get to the Wall."

"You are wrong and you know it. Whatever is going on, it won't take long and he will get what he wants."

Tamlin just gazed at him, muscles in his jaw ticking.

"What is it what you need so much that you are willing to work even with that old bastard, Tam?"

The beast's gaze wavered, but he wouldn't give in so easily.

"Tam, talk to me. We used to be friends and damn good friends. If it is a help you are looking for, I'll send you any kind of help. Do you need more soldier? You can have them. Money? Bride? Skilled officials to help you rule the Court? You can have it all, you just need to tell me. But don't go into alliance with Beron.."

Tamlin seemed to consider his offer. "I-.. I have tied hands.. I'm trying, but I shouldn't have been ruler.. I'm not built for state affairs. Everything is falling apart and now.. my advisers gave me an ultimatum.. They ask for heir otherwise they will leave me alone in this mess.."

Rhysand blinked in surprise at sudden honesty. With Tamlin, they had a lot of bad blood standing between them like a wall. Ever since Rhys' mother and sister were killed and he and his father killed Tamlin's family in return, they had hardly spoken. This was definitely progress or so he thought.

"I don't need your help, Rhysand," Tamlin murmured, "return to your Court before I make you." Tamlin pivoted, heading back into the forest.

Rhysand planned to solve this without mentioning Selene and the bond, but now there was no other way. Tamlin didn't want to listen and wouldn't accept his offer. This was the last thing that could change his mind.

"You can't marry her!" he called after Lord of Spring.

The beast stopped and looked back at him. "Why can't I?"

"Because.. she is mine."

Tamlin snorted, again moving.

"She's my mate." Rhys only whispered it, but the sweet spring breeze carried the words to his former friend. The beast halted in the middle of the step and fully turned to him. He searched him for any hint of lie, but when he found none, the emerald eyes widened.

"It snapped for me the moment she stepped into the ballroom and our eyes met. I think she doesn't know though," Rhysand continued quietly, hoping he would understand and cancel the wedding. All he needed, was more time to find a way to get her out of Autumn. He didn't ask for anything more. She didn't need to find out right away that he was her mate. He would be completely fine with only a friendship as long as he knew where she was and that she was safe.

Tamlin's eyes narrowed and darkened, one corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. "Don't worry," he said lowly. "I'll take good care of her. She will have anything she wants and I will protect her. I promise you."

"But will she be happy? Without her mate?"

"If she doesn't know about that, I see no reason why she shouldn't be. One can't mourn something they don't even know that exists."

"Tamlin, you don't understand-"

"But I do understand," he interrupted him. "See you at the wedding. Or rather not. Now we don't want to try our luck, do we."

"Tamlin!"

"Get lost!"

Rhysand fought against the magic of wards that after the dismissal was forcing him to leave. He wasn't done here yet. However, not even a High Lord could stay in other Court if the Lord there expelled them. Unwillingly he winnowed back to his house.

He stood in the middle of his office, heaving heavily. Tears gathered in his eyes. He ran hand through his dark hair and then dragged it down his face. He looked around, searching for something that could ground him, finding nothing. He fell to his knees and yelled so loud that walls shook.

In a blink of eye Cassian appeared at his side and clumsily held him, checking him for injuries. He seemed to be relieved to find none.

"He refused," Rhys sobbed. "I told him and he refused.."

"I'm so sorry, Rhys," Cass spoke kindly. "But.. We will solve this. Don't worry. We all will do our best to get her out of there."

Next week Rhysand's mood was switching between being furious, coldly calculating and falling into depression. At the end of the week, Azriel returned and whole Inner Circle gathered to share all facts they knew and come with some solution. As far as they knew, Selene lived in warded part of the castle where only family members and chosen maids could enter. Azriel spent the whole two weeks trying to break in but to no avail. Amren also had no luck with her research. Wards were a complicated ancient magic and to break through so strong ones, they would need a very powerful and dangerous magical object like Cauldron that was lost for centuries and they didn't have time to look for it anyway.

Rhys only sat there, gloomy, listening. He was again falling into depression.

"What if we got help from the inside?" Cassian suggested, looking around the table.

"From Vanserras?" Azriel looked up. His hazel eyes lit up with idea and he turned to Rhys. "I think that it's quite good idea."

"Thanks," Cassian grinned.

"And who would you ask for help?" Mor rolled eyes. "Beron? His wife? Or his rogue sons?"

Azriel didn't pay any attention to her insults and continued. "I think that the heir would be willing to help us if we convinced him."

Rhysand finally looked up, frowning. "He told me that he doesn't want to see me anywhere near her."

"Exactly! Don't you see it? Who let her out during the party when Beron was too busy to notice it? Eris. Who was out there protecting her? Eris. Who is often visiting the warded quarters despite having chambers in a completely different part of the castle? The answer is again Eris. I'll bet that he goes there only to visit her. Several times a day actually."

"Why should he want to help us to kidnap her?" Rhys shook his head.

"Because he cares for her," Azriel answered simply, tilting head to the side in disbelieve that Rhysand didn't get it yet. "I heard that he isn't thrilled for the coming wedding."

Rhysand clenched hands into fists, thinking. During the last two weeks they had tried everything and nothing worked, even Tamlin laughed him out. There was nothing else they could do except of waiting until the wedding day and then try one of the risky plans Cassian had prepared for that case.

At last, he nodded. "Fine then. Can you deliver message to him?"

Azriel smiled. "Gladly. If you write it right now, he can get it tonight."

Two days later, Rhysand winnowed to the river bend on the border of his Court and hid into the shadows under the trees, waiting. He didn't have high expectations, he was avoiding the hope so as not to be disappointed in the end. The time ticked by while he watched flowing river, but in his mind he saw only her, his Moon Princess bathing in the silver moonlight with shiny big eyes and soft smile on her lips. He could keep watching her lovely profile forever. If that was all he was allowed in this lifetime, he would die a happy male.

Thirty minutes later another male winnowed to the same bend of the river, his red hair looked like blazing flames in the setting sun. He eyed the empty river bank and nearby tree line with arrogant, bored expression. He crossed hands on his chest, glaring into the waters.

Rhysand stepped from his hideaway, casually walking with hands in the pockets to the place where the other male waited at. "I already started to think that you won't come," he tried his usual cocky tone, but even to him it sounded fake.

"You are the one who wanted to meet up at this.. where are we actually?" Eris raised a brow, disgusted.

Rhysand shrugged. "Just old campsite. Nobody is coming here anymore, not after what happened here. Old story. The most important is that we can talk here without being overheard."

Eris clasped hands behind his back. "So? What is so urgent? I'm busy with wedding preparations as you know."

"That's the reason why I need to speak with you." Rhys swallowed hard. He was preparing for this discussion ever since Azriel left with his letter in the pocket. Despite everything he decided to be honest for once instead of making up lies. "That wedding must not take place."

Eris raised brows at him. "Why?"

"Because..," he tried to say it aloud, but couldn't, "it can't happen."

"Good try, but I don't have time for this. So if you don't have any good reason for this, I'm leaving." He pivoted.

"She's my mate."

"What?!" Eris turned back to him so fast that he almost slipped on the stones.

"You heard me. Selene, your sister, is my mate."

Eris just gaped at him, eyes wide, but at least he wasn't about to leave anymore.

"The wedding is the biggest mistake. I don't think she knows about the bond, but she won't be happy. You have to help me stop it."

Eris's mask slipped down for a moment and Rhysand noticed pain hidden beneath. "I can't. It's too late."

"It isn't. They aren't wed yet, there's still time."

"And what do you expect me to do? Do you want me to go to my father and tell him: hey, forget about the alliance with Spring, her mate resides on the other side of Prythian? That would 100% work."

Rhys rolled eyes. "No, just help me get her out of there. If there is no bride, there won't be wedding nor alliance. This will solve all the problems at once and nobody gets hurt."

Eris snorted. "And what about her? What will happen to my sister?"

"She can live here, in my Court. I'll protect her, give her home and take good care of her. You will be welcome to come visit her anytime you want."

Eris shook head in disbelieve. "You will keep her at your side like some sustained lover? No, in such case she's better in Spring with Tamlin. I saw them talking together and he was really kind and respectful to her. That's what she deserves, Rhysand. The respect. There might be no love between them yet, but it can change in the future. He will provide her with the same things you are offering, but he will make her his wife."

Horrified, Rhysand took a step back. "Lover? What? Don't put words into my mouth. She doesn't know about the bond and I won't push her into relationship with me. If she wishes so, we will be friends. She decides what we will be, not me. But if the bond snaps for her and she accepts it, I'll more than gladly marry her right away. In my Court, she will have freedom she never had and in marriage we will be equal. In everything."

He gave him a doubtful look, laughing. "Equal? Mother's tits! I won't believe such empty promises."

"These are no empty promises, I'm serious. Can you see me laughing? I'll make even a bargain with you. If she agrees to marry me, she will be my equal. I'll make her a High Lady."

"There is no such thing as High Lady." Eris stuck out chin, narrowing eyes.

"Then she will be the first one. Do you want to bet?"

"No, but I want that bargain."

"Fine," Rhys smiled for the first time since he learnt that his Moon Princess is doomed to marry another male. "So, what do you want in exchange for your help?"

Eris tilted head to the side, pressing lips into thin line. "Help for help. When the time comes, you will help me get rid of my father."

"We have a deal." After wording their vows, smell of magic filled the air and a small tattoo appeared on their bodies.

"Great that you agreed so easily. I was ready to get down on my knees if necessary," Rhysand grinned.

"That sounds like a lot of fun. Especially, in this awful state you are in. I think I'm going to change my mind."

"Good you can't," Lord of Night patted his shoulder with new tattoo.

Eris barked with laughter.

"Now tell me, just out of curiosity, is Selene really your sister or just half sister? It doesn't really matter to me, I'm asking because-"

"She looks so different?" Eris finished the sentence with fox grin. "She is my sister. Frankly, she looks like clone of father's great grand mother. I would show you her picture, but.."

"No need. I believe you."

Eris raised his brows doubtfully.

"How exactly do you imagine her abduction to take place? If your spymaster can so easily get into my chamber, I'd say you don't need me."

"Believe me when I say that we already tried to get to her. Unfortunately, not even my brilliant spymaster can get through your father's wards. That's why we need your help."

"I see. I'm relieved to hear there are wards that can stop you and your people."

"If we weren't in such time crunch, we would find way in for sure. But we don't have so much time now," he winked. "All I need from you is to get her out of the wards inside the castle. It really doesn't matter whether you take her to your room or to that clearing, as long as she will be somewhere where we can get to her."

Next hour or so they spent discussing the details of the abduction, so the both sides knew the exact meeting place, time and what to do. When Eris left, Rhysand return back home, feeling much better. In good mood he shared the plan with Cassian and Azriel who would go into the action with him. Now he just needed to wait for message from Eris. If he hadn't seen with his own two eyes how much young heir cared for his sister, he would doubt his intentions. This all was possible only thanks to the exceptionally strong sibling love and overprotectiveness. In moments like this Rhys thought about his own baby sister. What would it be like if she was still here?

Days were passing one after another without any news from the Autumn heir until finally four days before the wedding a small piece of paper appeared on Rhysand's desk. He opened it and skimmed a neatly written short message.

Cassian! Azriel! he called in his mind.

Ever since he made the deal, they were staying in their rooms in the Town House instead of the House of Wind, just in case they would need to quickly move on. It took them only a minute to get to his office. As soon as they appeared on threshold, he happily waved the paper in the air.

"Get ready! We leave an hour after sunset."

Exactly one hour after sunset Rhysand winnowed the three of them to the Autumn Court's borders, the rest of the way they had to fly to avoid being detected by the magic of the wards that Eris inconspicuously lifted for several minutes.

Thankfully, wards around the Forest House weren't so hard to get through and Azriel could safely get them in without any help. Under the cover of night, Rhysand led them through the grounds to the clearing where they were supposed to meet with Eris and Selene. They slipped past the patrol on their way, unnoticed. Just to make sure they weren't walking into a trap, they silently landed in the forest and went on foot the rest of the way. Hidden in the dark shadows under the trees, they waited.

Ten minutes later, Eris appeared on the clearing dimly lit by the waxing moon. And he wasn't alone. Holding his hand, a small figure walked behind him.

"Be careful here," Eris kindly warned his sister and she smiled in answer.

When they stopped in the middle of the clearing, Selene looked up on the moon, bathing in the silver light. With her long hair down and in the snow white dress, she was stunning. Meanwhile, Eris intently gazed into the night, his body tense. Rhys nodded to his brothers and moved forward. They assumed she would be less frightened if he went first. He let the dry twig to crack under his boot on purpose, notifying them of his arrival.

Both siblings turned in the same time. Tension in Eris's shoulders melted away, replaced by sadness. Selene seemed to recognize him and shyly hid behind her brother.

The males nodded in greeting. "Everything okay?"

"Nobody saw us."

"And Beron?"

"Some kind of troubles with goods for wedding in the port."

Selene watched their quiet exchange calmly from behind the brother's back, curiously peeking at Lord of Night. She didn't seem to be surprised by the turn of events at all.

Rhys nodded at last and leaning to the side to get a better view, he smiled at her.

"Hey there," he said so softy he surprised even himself. "Do you remember me?"

"Yes, my lord," Selene answered shyly and hid even more into brother's shadow.

Rhysand huffed in amusement. "I thought we already had this conversation, darling. Only Rhys for you."

Eris winced at the way he addressed his sister, but didn't say a word. Instead he took his sister's hand and pulled her from behind him. "It's okay, dear. He's here to take you.. to safety."

She looked up at him with her big bright eyes, waiting. "I'm sorry, Sel," Eris continued, "I can't let you marry Tamlin. I genuinely think that he would be a good husband to you, but you wouldn't be happy with him. That's why you have to.." He couldn't finish the sentence, his voice failed him. Rhys noticed the tears in his eyes and decided to ignore them for now. He understood how hard this must be for him.

"So you allow me to leave with my mate?" Her silent question made them both gape at her in shock. Eris recovered as first and smiled sadly. He reached into the pocket between the words and pulled out a bigger bag.

"I- I packed you some clothes for the start.. and a couple of your favourite things.."

"You know about the bond?" Rhysand's heart stuttered. He didn't expect that.

She met his gaze for a second and quickly shied away, blushing fiercely. "Since the night we met here," she took her brother's sleeve between fingers and stepped closer to him, partly hiding behind him.

Rhysand was so happy that he couldn't find words. He had so many questions that he didn't know where to start. Cassian and Azriel quietly approached them and Selene's eyes widened with fear.

"That's okay, they won't hurt anyone. They are my friends who came to help me get you safely to my Court," Rhys held out hands, explaining. "This is Cassian, General of my armies, and this is Azriel, Spymaster. They are big, clumsy and quite grumpy, but both are very kind-hearted, I assure you. We grew up together like brothers."

When introduced, Cassian grinned widely and waved at her, while Azriel put hand on his chest and slightly bowed.

Eris scoffed, rolling eyes.

"It's time. We should go before someone notices she's gone," Azriel murmured lowly. He was right. It was too risky to stay here for too long.

Rhysand cleared his throat nervously and offered her hand. "Can we?"

She looked up at her brother questioningly. Eris's jaw tightened as he turned to face her. At first he only held her hands, suppressing his feelings, but then he broke and pulled her into a hug. He whispered her something in the ear and tried to wipe his tears away stealthily while pretending to clean some dirt from her shoulder.

They parted and Selene walked over to Rhys' group, her cheeks wet.

Eris sadly watched as Rhysand gently picked her up and handed her bag to Azriel. "Everything is going to be fine. He will take good care of you.. I'll visit you soon," he looked at Rhys who nodded in agreement.

"Anytime you want."

"Oh, and take this," Eris reached into his pocket and handed her a blank sheet of paper. She turned it in fingers, confused. "It's enchanted. If you want to talk with me, just write on the paper and it will teleport to me. When I answer, it will return. If there would be any trouble with it.." His eyes moved to Lord of Night.

"I'll gladly help you with it or you can write a letter and Azriel will deliver it for you."

The mentioned one nodded in agreement and opened the bag so she could put it in.

"I'll miss you, brother," she sobbed.

"I already miss you. Stay safe." Eris stepped away, hardly keeping his tears back. He put on his cool mask of heir, but his amber eyes were giving him away.

"Thank you," Rhysand swallowed hard, hardly suppressing his own emotions. "When you are ready, let me know. I owe you for this. And don't worry. She will be safe and well cared of. I'll write you when we arrive."

Eris only nodded, fists clenched at his sides and retreated a few steps to give them enough space. Rhysand summoned his wings and carefully took off followed by his brothers. Selene watched Eris until trees obscured her view. Then she wiped her tears and rested head on his shoulder. It took him by surprise and for a moment he forgot how to use the wings.

"Sorry," he apologised for the shock and she hummed in answer. He exhaled shakily, again feeling like a youngling on the first date. "A-are you scared? Of flying?"

"No," she whispered between sobs.

Rhys tugged her closer to his body, gently rubbing her shoulder with thumb. "I know it's kind of scary for you. You don't know me nor my family, but I promise I'll do anything to make you happy. And the bond.. I won't pressure you. It's up to you-"

"I want the bond," she said firmly, interrupting him. "I saw that we will be happy."

"You did?" Rhysand raised a brow. Eris probably failed to mention that his baby sister was a seer.

"Sometimes I see little flashes of my future. I knew that you will come for me."

He huffed. "Of course you did. You are the Moon Princess after all."

"Who's Moon Princess?" She seemed to calm down at last and stopped crying, but she stayed hidden in the crook of his neck.

"Well, she's someone my mother used to tell me a story about. Do you want to hear it?"

She nodded and so Rhys started quietly whispering the story into her ear while they were sliding through the peaceful night sky, heading to their own 'happily ever after'.

[alnilaem]

a toxic ghoap wip i had in my drafts from months ago but will no longer be continuing. i just wanna dump it here lol

cw for misogyny, smut, (internalized) homophobia, hedonism, sacrilege, prostitution mention, ghost is an ass

pls heed all tags, this was a vent fic, and also bare in mind im never gonna finish this lmao

-

Johnny's world is asymmetrical.

His world. His beginning and his end. Humvees and Dauphin 2 helis and deployments around the globe. Undercover operations, saving women and children, the comforting carbon steel of a rifle in his hands. 

It’s an unspoken stigma, but it’s there. Materialising as insults while his lads take the piss out of each other, and in the form of dishonourable discharges. 

The stigma has always been there. It has no start and no finish, so Johnny can’t remember where it came from, but he knows it was there since primary, where boys would kick girls at the bends of their knees and yank on their pigtails, squatting to the floor to get a look-see up their chequered skirts and cackle, all while Johnny stood off to the side, overtly uncomfortable. 

Mum’s complained. Teacher’s were involved. Dad’s simply said, “Boys will be boys,” and the situation was brushed under the carpet.

The stigma tailed Johnny into secondary school. His older cousin lent him a suit for formal, which prompted Johnny awkwardly standing on his doorstep with his date—a pretty lass named Rory—as his mam snapped a spate of photos. 

Johnny’s disposition was a grave juxtaposition to Rory’s. She was all grins and giggles, cantered into Johnny’s arm, while he was inelastically poised with tight lips. 

His mam wouldn’t stop pinching his supple cheeks, trying to shepherd a smile out of him. She gave up, throwing her hands in the air and wheedling them off the porch, tacking on an ornate, “Have fun, kiddos!” as they pooled into Johnny’s scrap metal car. 

Johnny felt as if he was lacking something. As if his wings had been clipped by the world a little too soon. It’s always been like that. A piece of him plucked from his wracking ribs and stolen, ever since he was a little boy. So in a lapse of judgement, in order to prove himself, to shatter the bubbling stigma, Johnny sought out the most masculine thing to offset his failure: follow in the steps of his cousin, and enlist. 

It was a rashly undertaken decision, but a decision he stuck with, because, for the first time in forever, Johnny’s old man clasped his shoulder in pride. 

But stigma was an incessant little thing. Because even in military school, it followed him closely. As Johnny’s school brothers had Playboy rafts and pin-up girls folded into their pillow cases, he would blunder upon being asked, “Who’d ye shag?” by his mate. 

In boot camp, he was a lowly private, whose hands would jade and cramp from cleaning rifles. They gave him blisters. And so his bunkmate—a nice lad from Glasgow with a crooked nose—would tend to his fingers during their lunch routine. Hidden somewhere in the corner, making jokes about their Drill Instructor. Callum, was his name. He’d swathe Johnny’s hands in gauze and garnish it with a lopsided smiley face. It always sucked, fell apart half way, but he did it anyway. 

That’s when Johnny started blistering his hands on purpose. 

Wedging his thumb in the dip of a garand and not pulling it out until it was swollen. Then he’d snivel, seeking Callum out in their barracks. There was a pull in Johnny’s stomach, half of an ebb that finished Callum’s flow. It would give him rashly undertaken ideas—such as fixing his hand in the lid of an armoury shell—for Callum to fix up. Johnny would find him among their other friends, beseeching with his cobalt eyes, holding out a hand.

In enlistment, his confusion ripened into a gravely miscalculated realisation. That it wasn't an affinity for men Johnny wanted to be—to attract ladies with his chest candy and the brandished title of military man—no, it reared its ugly head when Johnny finally became his own private. Grinning, at the time, clean-shaven and giddy as his mother snapped a spate of photos of him saluting in his new uniform, plaintively whining when she reached out to adjust his garrison cap because “It’s lopsided, pumpkin!” To which Johnny, under the searing gaze of his fellow privates, would clip, “‘Cos it’s meant to be like tha’, ma!”

Johnny didn’t know when it started. He just remembered realising how good Callum looked one day at the range—sweat sluicing down his pale neck, disappearing behind his lapels, ass filling out the space of his pants as he would squat to the ground and aim for the faraway target. Before he knew it, Johnny was seizing lights out. Using the time to sneak off to the bathrooms and cramp a fist around his leaking cock, beating his dick to the thought of him. Him, him, him. 

Johnny’s sordid thoughts didn’t emulate what his granny had planned for him—to pass down her old wedding stack once he “Found the right lass,” to bring home to her; it wasn’t what the Orthodox spiels of sermons and hymns and praise on Sunday’s drilled into him; it wasn’t what his uncle was anticipating—“Got a girlfrien’ yet, Johnny-boy? Ah, why’re ye frowning! Soon enough, ye will.”

His fantasies rivalled those of his squadmates. Because on his first tour, a summer ten years ago in the chilly expanse of Northern Ireland was a woman that approached them. Denim skirt and a mulberry red halter top. Kitten heels, sunglasses. Shiny lipgloss. She tried to ply them by batting her eyes, offering her services. She was smart. Military men always paid. It’s the desperation that got to them most of the time, a tinge of worry, and a hint of entitlement. They took the bait. Rode her back to camp and took their turns with her.

When it was Johnny’s turn, he listlessly declined and hung his head. He said he had a lass waiting for him back home—Rory—that’s the first name that popped in his head. His secondary school girlfriend in which he sobbed on when he tried kissing her. Johnny said he had a bird, just like all his other lads, with pictures of their wives and girlfriends pinned to the massive cork board in the middle of their camp. But they had no problem indulging themselves. 

They were shoving him around, calling him all sorts of names, bullying him into following them. And that’s when Johnny caved. A cacophony of hollers flared out around him as he ducked into the tent where the woman lay, thin bed sheets hiked up to her collarbones, her previous lipgloss smeared over her chin.

Johnny said, “Hi, how are you?” Because that’s what his mother taught him. She softly giggled. 

Not at him, but with his overdue respect.

Johnny shucked off his uniform with trembling hands, mounting her with his dick flaccid and stomach flipping. He remembers ruminating, “Why don’t you like it? You should like it. Love it,” but his heart leapt to his throat and his navel twisted, heart seized as the head of his cock kept slipping around her messy opening, poking her thigh. His throat constricted, dry, then slackened. A muffled sob wracked through him. Barely concealed by the threshold of his thin lips. He pushed his tongue into the roof of his mouth and buried his face in the crook of her neck, collapsing into her bare chest, furiously wiping his tears into the inflatable mattress.

Then, the body beneath him quivered. Johnny hoisted himself up, a spiel of apologies curling off of his tongue, when he realised she was crying too. The same type as him—wrung out, jaded, tired. She blindly reached out for him and pulled him close. Not reaching for his dick nor biting sensual whispers into his ear. They held each other for a little while, coalescing as their cries muffled into each other’s skin. Then, she pushed him off. Slid off the mattress and snaked her into her clothes. 

They both left the tent shaking. She was still sniffling. His lads cheered as she walked away and clapped him on the back. 

That’s when Johnny realised there wasn't a place for him in his world. Johnny shrunk himself, half the light he used to be, pushing himself into a little box as his world around him clipped off his wings. 

Now, Johnny’s world consists of something a little different. 

Something sinewy and rough around the edges. Gruff, but tactical. Calm, akin to the placid sea, but could flip a switch and emulate its choppy waters if he wanted to, too. Big, striking, with eyes that could kill a sailor. A deep timbre mandated by Manchester. Wide-set shoulders but a willowy waist, hips that sway as he walks. A macabre mask and skeletal gloves—ones that have Johnny wrapped tightly around his fingers.

Johnny grew into himself between serving in the parachute regiment to selection for the SAS. He got rougher. Learned how to hide himself better. Perfectly fit himself within the Task Force, around men who would become his best friends and brothers. He’s otherwise your normal guy. Goes to the bar with the team when they’re able. Shooting darts with Gaz (“You’ve got a Marksman badge but can’t score more than two points? C’mon, mate…”); pool with Price; and drinks with Ghost.

Beer always sloshes over the lip of Ghost’s glass when they clink their drinks. It crashes up and over the Brit’s fingers, dripping down his hands, between his thick fingers. Johnny always resists the urge to lean in close and lick the wash of alcohol glistening Ghost’s knuckles. 

But they’re just friends. Apparently. Because friends don’t fuck.

It started way down in Chicago’s heart, after another op. Gaz—ever the exploiter of his puppy eyes—managed to ply Price into stopping at a bar instead of heading straight back to base for paperwork. So they stopped at a little hole-in-the-wall, still rife with adrenaline, spreading out and all doing their own thing.

Johnny and Ghost were sat around a rickety table with wobbly legs. A spread of peanut shells around them and sticky rings of alcohol from their glasses glossing the surface. Ghost raised an arm to wipe his eyes, knocking over Johnny’s beer in the process. An expletive crossed the Brit’s tongue and he apologised, grasping a fistful of napkins and scrubbing it over Johnny’s soaked shirt. 

It ebbed and flowed in long, rough strokes. Ghost’s hand gliding over Johnny’s legs, Ghost’s middle finger and thumb snapped around Johnny’s thigh, his grasp cutting into the sinews. 

It wasn’t that different from suturing a teammate up after a mission. But with the unsaid admiration Johnny had for him, tempered by the hint of alcohol on the roof of his mouth and the hazel canopy of Ghost’s lashes, over his focused eyes, arousal quickly seized Johnny.

Ghost’s hand brushed over a tent on Johnny’s jeans. One that hadn’t been there before. He cut his next stroke from the root, pausing, and blinked up at his friend. 

The Scotsman felt a wound up spring in his stomach. He turned away, smacking Ghost’s hand, and ran a hand through his black tuft of hair, slapping both sides of his shaved heads. He felt his lungs betray him—squeezing like dried fruit and refusing to expand—to yield to his sudden heavy breathing and quick succession of heartbeats.

Johnny shook his head. Sputtering. “Lad, y’know, sometimes we can’t control ‘em–” 

The words died on his tongue when Ghost flattened hand against the bend of his knee. He was testing the waters. 

Johnny looked back, gulping, and took the bait. He inched his knee closer, until it met with Ghost’s thick leg. It’s something he’s done so many times. When he was starved for friction but couldn’t make it overtly obvious—grazing Ghost’s hand passing him a flare; knocking his foot under the table during debrief (“Sorry, lad,”); applying extra gauze to a slice in his torso just to feel Ghost’s chest throb below his fingers a little more.

But this is different. Something Johnny’s chased for so long. A tangible ghost on his tongue for a flavour he’s longed for with just fantasies while he fucked his fist late into the night. 

Ghost tightened his hold on Johnny’s thigh. “Sons of bitches, ain’t they?” 

His voice was taut. As was the muscle between Johnny’s shoulders.

They exchanged a glance. Soundless, but not wordless. Then Ghost slunk his hand down and wrapped it around Johnny’s swelling cock. 

The feeling of it—a sensation so foreign, so yearned for—penetrated Johnny’s core. It made him yelp and jerk his knee into the table, sending more beer spilling over the rim of his glass and onto his pants. 

Ghost hummed, shook his head. “C’mon, Johnny, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” And he inclined his head towards the bathroom in the back. 

Johnny blindly nodded, yielding to Ghost’s hold as he hoisted him from his seat. Ghost directed them through the sea of gyrating bodies and towards the toilets. They bursted inside, and the Brit pulled Johnny into the last stall. A seedy little thing, with graffiti and the ash of cigarette butts welded into its walls. 

The succeeding acts were a blip in the streamline of Johnny’s memory. He remembers Ghost shucking his pants down, then settling himself behind him. He remembers Ghost’s gloveless hand reaching around and working over his drooling cock. He remembers a voice in his ear, “What the fuck are we doing,” and a bulbous cockhead poking his ass. He remembers the shrill rattle of the stall hinges as he withered against it, trembling under Ghost’s deft hands, the finger that swept over the slit of his cock and slipped down to fondle his balls. 

Before white-hot pleasure seared his vision, Johnny remembers emptying his come into the crotch of his denims, shaking, as it dampened his pants and as Ghost commanded him to pull it back up. 

They left the bar alongside each other, meeting everyone else on the pavement. Johnny’s lips were popped open and swollen. Peeling, from how his teeth had sunk into them. His eyes were glossy and his hair was tousled in the middle of his head. He had a wet patch on his jeans.

“Oh, you are pissed, mate,” Gaz exclaimed, “I– that’s pee?”

“Spilled some water,” Ghost lied to the other teammates, “had to sort him out.”

They made it back to base within hours, signing off to their quarters. 

The next day, Johnny didn’t see him at all. 

The day after that, too; Ghost didn’t even spare him a glance.

He tried reassuring himself. Ghost hadn’t talked about men before—not in this calibre—so Johnny told himself it’s because he was digesting what rashly happened in Chicago. 

That was, until, he was paged one night. A command from Ghost to meet him in his quarters. The message was succinct: one sentence, leaving no lines to be read between. Johnny walked ambled to his room with his heart in his stomach and his blood rushing to his ears. Nudging the door open, Ghost was on the edge of his bed, legs parted, smarting denim-washed jeans and a black pullover. A simple, soft gauze balaclava. 

His eyes slid upwards first. Then the rest of his head. Ghost pinned Johnny under his smouldering gaze, then beckoned him forward with the tilt of his head. No words were swapped. Ghost simply tugged Johnny forward, between his thick thighs, and bullied the Scotsman to his knees with a hand splayed over his half-shaved head. 

Johnny’s eyes widened. He popped his lips open to speak—lips Ghost whispers his thumb over to seal shut, uprooting his words from its step. Ghost shook his head, undid his belt with a single hand, and shucked down his jeans. He palmed himself for a while, watching Johnny’s eyes sheen over, before pushing his boxer-briefs scarcely over his meaty thighs, pinching the head of his cock. 

Ghost didn’t even bother pulling his balls out. Just his dick—long, thick, a comely vein running beneath it—better than anything Johnny’s ever wanted. Better than the images he’s fucked his fist to, memories of Ghost, freshly out of the shower after sparring, his thin towel outlining the barest hint of his dick. 

Johnny reaches out, but Ghost swipes it back. He tuts and softly smacks his cock against Johnny’s ruddy cheek, watching as a string of his precum connects to Johnny’s face. 

“How bad do ya wan’ it, Johnny?” Ghost had prompted, swiping his cockhead over the Scotsmans lips, then pulling it back whenever his jaw readily slacked. 

“Real… real bad, Lt.” He breathed. 

Ghost tapped his cheek again. “Open.”

And so Johnny did. Like it was second nature, like he’s been wanting for so long. Waiting for so fucking long. 

Johnny’s lips popped open and closed around Ghost’s wet tip. He swirled his tongue around it, clumsy in his movements, teeth grazing Ghost’s skin.

He winced. “Easy…”

Johnny blinked in a rapid succession, nodding, sucking him in a little deeper, mindful of hollowing out his cheeks and relaxing his jaw. Ghost’s eye twitched, hands digging into his tuft, hanging his head back, softly bucking his hips up into Johnny’s mouth. 

“Atta boy, Johnny, fuck– where the fuck’d you learn this, eh?”

Johnny replied with a gargled purl of precum and saliva coalescing in his mouth, gagging over the wide girth splitting his jaw open. Ghost laughed, his gloved hand settling on the scruff of Johnny’s neck, pulling him a little closer; sinking his cock a little deeper, rutting his pelvis into his squadmate's pliable mouth.

Ghost cums. Johnny laps it all up. And in an undertaken lapse of judgement, rises to his feet, puckering his frosted lips, ready to hike Ghost’s balaclava above his nose and share his taste with him. But Ghost set a hand to Johnny’s face, shaking his head. He tucked his softening cock back into his pants.

That was the first instance Johnny disregarded. One he ignored in favour of indulging himself in something he yearned after for years. He didn’t realise his grave digging began there—when he witlessly nodded in response. 

And from there, it became a cycle. It was always on Ghost’s call. Never Johnny’s. When Ghost wanted his dick sucked; when Ghost wanted a wet and tight hole wrapped around his cock. Johnny knew better. He knew he was being shepherded into something bad, but he couldn’t help himself.

Trembling under Ghost, his whole world encompassed by the Brit’s towering stature, was all that mattered to him. Getting spread over a cock he’s wanted for so long, a long ways from the taboo fantasies that’s collected cobwebs in his thoughts for so long.

Johnny was less of a teammate, more of an outlet for Ghost to exhaust his frustrations into. Even then, it was a pill Ghost had trouble swallowing. As if he’ll acknowledge it, and a relationship will materialise. So he stays still—fucks Johnny like a dirty little secret then turns the other way. 

Johnny tries talking to him. Tries telling him he struggled with the same thing. That he isn’t alone and that he belongs here. That there’s no shame in it. 

Simon collapses Johnny’s pleads with a final, resolute bark. “I ain’t gay, mate. You’re a friend helping a friend.”

-

basically it ends with Simon shepherding Johnny into some hedonistic, one-sided relationship. Johnny just accepts it bc if Simon wont love him, he’ll do it by proxy, because hes all fucked out and desperate for him🖤🖤

[gayferrari]

I’m going through your sebmark recs and wanted to know could you do another list for brocedes?

WOPS sorry this is so late, I saved it to the drafts and it slipped my mind. This is pretty varied; I hope there's something new-to-you to enjoy!

on the faultline by @monacotrophywife. Multichapter; Brocedes through the years. Sort of canon-compliant until it isn't. Rated E.

so many fics by @lost-decade — they're mostly older works, I remember reading a few back when and then I revisited them this year and they still hit. some of my faves:

All That You Can't Leave Behind. AU where Nico goes to university instead of racing and eventually becomes an F1 engineer

an empty space to fill in. PWP + character study, silver war era

traviamento. In 2004 Nico invites Lewis on holiday with him and Vivian

constellation falling into place by wraysford. Speaking of AUs where Nico goes to university. This is set in 2007 during Lewis's rookie season. Rated T; some angst + getting together.

post 2016 AUs

and it feels good (to be known so well) by @gokartkid. Lewis forgets his apartment keys. Guess who might have a spare copy from years ago. Rated M. tagged: the emotional complexity of living in the same building as your childhood friend-lover-enemy-rival

dirty valentine by @sionisjaune. fic series, ongoing, established relationship post 2022. Includes 4 complete one-shots, mostly rated E.

fresh old mistakes by bestliars. Abu Dhabi 2021. Sometimes u lose a championship fight and fuck your ex about it. Rated E.

hall pass by @/monacotrophywife. Brocedes but make it 2023 and Nico's wife is okay with sharing. Rated E.

Lemon, Ginger and Honey by witchee_writer. Feel-good 2022 season AU; getting back together. Rated T.

remember to forget me by @12romy. Amnesia AU! what if you got hit in the head and forgot just how rancid your situationship became? Set in 2021.

RULE 63 / genderfuckery

desire unfolds by bestliars. girl Lewis/Nico. Rated E. tagged: anal sex, first time, catholicism.

if I get too close by @/monacotrophywife. that one trope where a driver wakes up temporarily turned into a cis woman and needs to have sex to go back to normal :) temporarily a girl! Lewis / Nico ft. repression like woah. Rated E.

want you to be my girl by @/sionisjaune. f/f. Rated E. underage. fisting. check out THIS FANART ALSO.... PLEASE.... (nsfw)

brocedes-adjacent — threesome fics + fics where Lewis or Nico fuck somebody else about their issues.

I hesitated to put these on the list because they aren't Nico/Lewis BUT they are on-theme, they're all very good, and it's my post so why should I limit myself. But skip if it's not your vibe!

[Sebcedes] only bad thing about a star is they burn up by @blorbocedes, Nico/Lewis/Seb; au where nico retires after 2016 and him and lewis get married. Rated M. (If you like this sebcedes vibe + Rule 63 I also enjoyed their challengers AU with f!Lewis)

[Sebcedes] double or nothing by @grideon. Nico wins the Monaco Grand Prix. Even better: Lewis doesn't. Rated M.

[fics with past / background brocedes] If you're down for fics where they fuck somebody else while the Past Relationship Looms, I enjoyed these both as rarepair fics but also bc of the Former Brocedes of it all: my kind’s your kind by @/monacotrophywife (Nico/Charles) & the price of the prodigy by @saff-rons (Lewis/Max)

that's all! (for now) if you enjoy drop the authors a line etc. sorry again this took forever

[hollowed-theory-hall]

How does the protection magic that Lily's sacrifice placed on Harry work? On that note- how do the blood wards placed on the Dursley household operate?

Like- does the latter act as a notice me not/ fidelius of its own? Protecting Harry's location from other magicals? (It would have been easy for another Longbottom tragedy to occur after all) from what I remember the blood wards have no affect on the protection cast by Lily's sacrifice, and instead sort of extend the effect to the household???

Also on the topic of the protection- we saw the end Quirrel met. And... I just wondered- why didn't this sort of reaction extend to all the people - the Dursleys included- who laid their hands + spells on Harry with the intent to harm? By all means the blood wards should have fallen the moment The Dursleys tried to physically harm Harry. Can't see a protection powered by Lily's intent, extending to people who mean her son harm.

Unless of course the magic and the wards are targetted at Riddle specifically. Which brings the question- why didn't it set on fire/ harm anything considering even the traces of Riddle's presence/ influence. Eg. The people with the death Eater brands, the horcruxes, the soul shard inside Harry himself??

Ugh. Just so many questions.

Ps. Could the blood wards have been transferred/ worked in a residence comprising of the people Harry considered as his family and who reciprocated this sentiment? (based on the importance of intent to keep the spell going)

Wow, @ana-lyz, just like with the veil and death asks, I just started drafting a post about Lily's blood protections and what Dumbledore says about them. So...

Lily's Love Protection and Dumbledore's Blood Wards

Alright, strap in...

Okay, so let's start by seeing what we're told about the blood protections and whether we can gather something cohesive that makes magical sense out of it.

We have Voldemort's statement on this piece of magic:

“...I wanted Harry Potter’s blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago . . . for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too. . . . “But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy’s future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy’s protection as long as he is in his relations’ care. Not even I can touch him there. . . .

(GoF, 657)

Notice there is the lingering protection from Lily's magic and the ancient magic Dumbledore invoked. These are, I believe separate spells.

Dumbledore's statements:

“But why couldn’t Quirrell touch me?” “Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign…to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.”

(PS, 215)

“But I knew too where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated — to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother’s blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative.” “She doesn’t love me,” said Harry at once. “She doesn’t give a damn —” “But she took you,” Dumbledore cut across him. “She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother’s sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you.” “I still don’t —” “While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years.”

(OotP, 835-836)

Here again, Dumbledore mentions the ancient magic he made the decision to protect Harry with as a separate thing from the lingering protection from Lily.

And (as per this post) the Dumbledore Harry hallucinates statement:

“He took my blood.” said Harry. “Precisely!” said Dumbledore. “He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it! Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily’s protection inside both of you! He tethered you to life while he lives!”

(DH, 598)

And then we have what happened to Quirrell:

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell’s face — “AAAARGH!” Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain — his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off — the pain in Harry’s head was building — he couldn’t see — he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Voldemort’s yells of, “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!”

(PS, 212)

What we know from this

Well, from the above quotes we can divide the magical protections on Harry into 2 different spells as I mentioned above:

Lily's sacrificial love protection - the intention magic Lily cast by protecting her son. This is the magic that blocked the Killing Curse and killed Quirrell.

Dumbledore's blood ward - this is the spell Dumbledore cast that (supposedly) protects Harry in his relatives' home. Voldemort says Dumbledore invoked this magic, and Dumbledore also mentions it's a ward he left that built upon Lily's protection, but it's not a spell Lily left.

So, what can Lil'y Sacrificial Love Protection do:

Makes the Killing Curse not kill Harry.

Returns the Killing Curse back to the sender.

Continues to hurt that initial "sender" whenever he tries to kill Harry.

What about Dumbledore's Blood Wards what do they do:

Nothing.

Dumbledore and Voldemort say this magic exists but it never does anything. We never see it active, it never protects Harry from anyone, neither his relatives nor Death Eaters. So, we don't know what it's supposed to be doing since it doesn't do anything in the books.

Voldemort says it won't allow him to touch Harry in his relatives' house.

How I think these spells actually work

I'll start with Dumbledore's Blood Wards:

I simply don't think this ward actually exists.

Dumbledore isn't very consistent with how this protection works. He says Harry needs to return for a bit to live with Petunia for the magic to work, but if that's all the requirement, why long weeks? Couldn't he return for a shorter time? And each year he spends a different amount of time at Private Drive? Couldn't he always be sent back just for the minimal required time? At first, the ward was about love but then it isn't, he says this: "While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort."

Harry didn't think of Private Drive as a home:

Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he’d already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.

(PS, 123)

“I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of them to Professor Dippet,” said Dumbledore. “Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home.” Harry felt slightly uncomfortable at these words, for this was exactly how he felt about Hogwarts too.

(HBP, 431)

Harry never considered Private Drive and the Dursleys his home. Hogwarts was his first home.

If there is no love and it isn't a home, even if Dumbledore did cast a blood ward based on Petunia and Lily's sacrifice it won't actually be active. But personally, I don't think this ward actually exists.

Dumbledore needs a reason to keep Harry with his relatives.

Dumbledore needs Harry malleable, low on self-esteem, and lacking in a support network. Because he knew since October 1981 (but probably before) that he'd likely need Harry to die. He suspected Harry was a Horcrux from practically day 1:

Under a tuft of jetblack hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. “Is that where —?” whispered Professor McGonagall. “Yes,” said Dumbledore. “He’ll have that scar forever.” “Couldn’t you do something about it, Dumbledore?” “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy...

(PS, 13-14)

And being raised by the Dursleys ensured that when the time came, when Dumbledore needed Harry to die to destroy Voldemort, Harry would be willing. Because Harry would not put much worth in his own life. Because of that, I think it's not outside the realm of possibility Dumbledore would lie about this ward to have an excuse to keep sending Harry to the Dursleys.

(Sure, Dumbledore would've preferred not to kill Harry if it could be avoided, but he had been preparing for the situation since October 1981)

It's not like he did anything to better their treatment of Harry until book 6, when he needed Harry to start trusting him more...

And like I mentioned above, even if the ward was there, it would not be active because Private Drive was never a home for Harry. And after year 4, when Voldemort took his blood, any protection from any blood-related magic would be moot. Because Voldemort would not be counted as a threat by the ward.

So Dumbledore sending Harry back to the Dursleys after he knew the wards he left (if they were there at all) were gone, proves to me Harry's placement at the Dursleys was never about the wards to begin with. Because if the blood wards are gone, literally anywhere else around wizards who could protect Harry would be safer than at the Dursleys, even when thinking of Death Eaters and Voldemort as the only threat. If they came to find Harry at Private Drive, nothing would've stopped them (except Harry himself).

I could guess wards like this, if they actually were active, would have been an extension of Lily's protection and stopped Voldemrot from being able to enter the Dursleys' residence. From what's said, it seems this ward seems to target Voldemrot specifically, and no one else. But, as I mentioned, I don't think it's really there.

Lil'y Sacrificial Love Protection:

I mentioned in the past how intention and emotion mean a lot for magic in the HP universe. Lily, a witch who we are told repeatedly was powerful, intelligent, and talented, could very well cast a powerful protection out of her love and intention to protect her son. That is 100% possible with what we see magic is capable of and how magic seems to work.

That being said, the fact this never happened before suggests to me Lily did something different than just having a very strong wish for her son to survive. Dumbledore says it's because she had a choice, and in a way it is, but not because Voldemort gave her the option not to die, but because she chose to die instead of Harry.

I'll try to explain it, bear with me.

“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!” “Stand aside, you silly girl. . . stand aside now.” “Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—” “This is my last warning—” “Not Harry! Please . . . have mercy. . . have mercy. . . . Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I’ll do anything—” “Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”

(DH, 297)

This is the "spell" Lily casts — the incantation. This is her wish moments before her death: "Not Harry, kill me instead," that's what she says, that's her promise, that's her wish, that's the magic.

Lily's protection only works on Voldemort because her spell essentially made a bargain with Voldemort (that he didn't agree to). that he'd kill her instead of Harry. Once he killed Lily, he couldn't kill Harry because that was the protection she left him, and Voldemort won't be able to kill him because she died in his stead.

That's why we don't see the same thing happen after James dies to buy Lily and Harry time, why when others die to protect someone they aren't protected from the killing curse. What Lily did is a combination of a few extraordinary circumstances coming together:

She's an incredibly powerful witch (shown by her childhood magic that was very controlled and advanced (not unlike Tom Riddle) and Slughorn's boasting)

She loved Harry dearly. Loved him enough to power an accidental spell.

Chose and intended to die instead of her son. She had intent when making her plea, intent required for any spell.

So what essentially happened is that Lily created a situation where Voldemort physically can't kill Harry because Lily died in his stead. If, for example, Quirrell touched Harry without intending to kill him (like he did when they shook hands in Diagon Alley or when he pulled Harry to stand in front of the mirror) the protection won't activate. All it does is stop Voldemort from killing Harry because he already killed Lily in Harry's stead.

So, Voldemort, as I mentioned in the past, wants to kill Harry, this is his only ambition in the 2nd war. So he takes Harry's blood into himself so the protection won't work anymore. And we see it doesn't in the woods when Voldemort casts the killing curse and it doesn't rebound back on him (which would've happened otherwise).

This love protection from Lily doesn't require anything to stay active. It was cast because Voldemort killed her and Harry doesn't need to do anything to keep it active. Staying with the Dursleys wasn't for the sake of Lily's spell but for Dumbledore's ward.

As for Lily's spell not protecting Hary from anything else, like I mentioned, the bargain was that Voldemort would kill her instead of Harry, it would only protect Harry from being killed by Voldemort. If Voldemort just asked a random Death Eater to kill Harry it still wouldn't have worked, but that won't be because of Lily's love magic, but because of Harry pretty much always being the Master of Death.

Basically, Voldemort was doomed because he had no chance of killing Harry. Ever.

But what about when Harry died in book 7 and said he cast the same sacrificial love?

Well, I don't think Harry cast the same sacrificial love. His feelings and intentions were completely different. In his case, I think he just took the mastership of the Elder Wand so it wasn't performing as well for Voldemort afterward.

Conclusions

There are actually two different and distinct spells referred to by the characters when it comes to the protections Lily left for Harry.

The first is Lily's Sacrificial Love Spell which worked like a bargain. She pleaded with Voldemort to kill her instead of Harry and after he killed her, he could no longer kill Harry because he was protected.

Voldemort taking Harry's blood does indeed circumvent this spell and allows him to kill Harry in the woods (if temporarily).

The second is the Blood Ward Dumbledore talks about that is supposedly placed on the Dursleys' home. This spell was invoked by Dumbledore and is not part of Lily's spell.

It's supposed to build on and strengthen Lily's protection from what's implied.

this second spell would've stopped its activity the moment Harry stopped considering number 4, Private Drive his home (which happened quite young, as he doesn't remember ever considering it a home)

Personally, I don't think this blood ward ever existed, but even if it did, it was moot from the get-go and never done anything.

Voldemort taking Harry's blood in year 4, circumvented this ward too.

Basically, Dumbledore kept Harry at the Durselys less because of the wards and more because it suited him to ensure Harry would become the martyr he needed him to be (something I should write a full post about eventually).

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | June 24th-30th 2024

Happy Canada Day to all my fellow Canadians! Here comes a more reasonable weekly recap compared to last week :P

Complete

see the stars with my morning eyes by trippedandfell/ @trippedandfell (Teacher Buck AU | 3K | Teen): “So,” Buck announces, sitting down between Hen and Chimney at the concessions stand. “I think Eddie’s trying to get me to sleep with him and his fiancée.” or: Eddie calls Lucy his partner. Buck extrapolates.

kiss my lips, feel the rhythm of your heart and hips by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Post-S7, Getting Together | 3K | Mature): After months of clawing at the ground and scraping through the mud of his memories of his relationship with Shannon, his childhood and a whole bunch of religious guilt, Eddie had finally accepted the truth about his marriage and himself. He’s queer. His sexuality isn’t the only thing he’s discovered though. Eddie Diaz is queer and he is in love with Evan Buckley.

Being Selfish by Inell/ @inell (Post-7x10: All Fall Down, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): It’s been a little more than six weeks since Eddie’s life became a chaotic mess. Luckily, he’s had Buck’s support and constant presence to help him get through it.

in the rough draft, [s]he loved you by iinryer/ @iinryer (S5, Outsider POV | 5K | General): during the flight home to LA after ramon's retirement party, eddie tries to write down some things he wants to say to buck

wrap your arms around me, baby boy by marviless/ @marviless (Getting Together | 6K | Teen): in which buck pretends to be asleep and overhears something he shouldn't.

🔥 i’ve seen a couple suns that set forever by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Christopher POV | 7K | General): Freshly home from Texas and faced with the prospect of his dad's feelings for Buck, Christopher's abandonment issues surface. A conversation with Bobby, and realizing the parallels between Buck's relationship with Bobby, and his relationship with Buck, gives Chris the perspective he needs.

i'll be the north star that takes you home by marviless/ @marviless (Post-S7, Getting Together | 8K | General): eddie is moving back to el paso for the summer.

Just to Chase the Pain Away by UnderwaterNinja/ @underwaterninja13 (BTHB: Public Humiliation, BDSM, Subdrop | 11K | Explicit): Buck makes the poor decision to go to a kink club to deal with his emotions. After he's left with no aftercare, someone comes to his rescue.

Firehouse Baby by Nejinee/ @nejineeee (S2-S7, Getting Together | 21K | Explicit): One day, Eddie put his hand on Buck’s thigh and Buck hasn’t stopped thinking about it since.

🔥 something touched me (like a knife-blade) by kithmet/ @kithmet (Alternate S7 Finale, Getting Together | 42K | Explicit): Eddie self-implodes. Christopher, seeking refuge, flees to Buck—whose priorities amount to, in varying order: take in the kid, get Eddie to talk to him, and keep the three of them afloat in the process. (Oh, and Tommy’s there too. He thinks.)

🔥 Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 50K | Explicit): Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.

🔥 Descendants of Cyrano by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (~S7, Dungeons&Dragons, Getting Together | 55K | Explicit): People have their characters romance each other all the time while playing Dungeons & Dragons. There's deep meaningful monologues and sometimes some crying. It's normal. "Normal" is definitely not the word for whatever Buck and Eddie are inflicting on the rest of the 118.

WIP

🔥 If You Can Make the Music by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, | 2/5 | 5K | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 5 (Seaside): A year after a whirlwind two week love affair with bartender Buck in Galveston, Texas, Eddie Diaz finds himself coincidentally relocating to the area. But when he attempts to reconnect with Buck, he's in for an unfortunate surprise. (Part 3 of Coma-Verse)

Podfics

[podfic] but it feels like a fortress when the weather gets bad by TheBoyWhoWalksInTheLight/ @aro-of-artemis (Post-3x15: Eddie Begins | 20-30min | Teen): Buck has a nightmare about Eddie dying, but he also has a key to Eddie's house.

Re-Read

Like a Sack of Bricks by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Feelings Realization | 2K | Teen): One word from Christopher, and Eddie's realizing he's made a serious miscalculation about his best friend.

[avelera]

Devastating. I went back and reread what I’ve got of my weird unpublished Thorin genderfuckery WIP (where Thorin is kidnapped by Thranduil after the BOTFA and kept prisoner until Bilbo goes looking for Thorin in Mirkwood, then Thranduil gives Thorin the chance to leave with Bilbo but only after Thorin gets magically disguised as a hobbit woman and Thranduil will only let him go if Thorin can convince Bilbo to rescue this random hobbit woman who is actually him instead, so there’s tons of disguised Thorin learning how much Bilbo cares about him, not knowing it’s really him, and anyway it’s convoluted ok but I still love it in all its fairytale genderfuckery nonsense) that I started, like, ten years ago and have never fully been able to get out of my head.

Unfortunately, it’s now officially from so far back in my writing career that there’s like… two scenes that I like well enough as is, without a substantial rewrite, but I can see all the ways I’d do it different now and a lot of the rest is incoherent or from all around the place in the chronology.

In theory, out of the 25k words I’ve written there’s probably 10k I’d save in a new draft of the fic that would probably be at least 30k. At this point it probably would be faster to just start it over with all the lessons I’ve learned about writing since or, more likely, it will just languish forever because I’ve moved on from the Hobbit fandom and YET… man sometimes I just can’t get that fic out of my head and I really wish it was in a state where I could just finish it quickly and put it out into the world…

[trappedinafantasy37]

Alright! It is finally time to face the Elder Brain and end this run. For a little disclaimer, I did complete this run just a few days before Patch 7. I just have posting paralysis and shit sits in my drafts forever before I post things.

Shadowheart tried to dominate the Elder Brain. But, her plan was an abysmal failure.

And doomsday has arrived for the city of Baldur's Gate.

Pro tip: before walking into the apocalypse, make sure your pet illithid is well fed. Locally sourced brains are the preferred nutrition, but store bought is fine.

Despite the apocalyptic scenario she finds herself in, Minthara is enjoying herself and having a grand old time. Definitely the kind of person who thrives in chaos and is her most calm when shit hits the fan.

At the beginning of this all, Shadowheart was alone, trying to navigate the dangers by herself. She felt that she did not need any allies as they would be nothing but liabilities. But Minthara was the one who, ironically, pulled her out of the darkness and gave her the push she needed to step away from Shar. She never could have made it this far without her.

A failed Sharran, a drow, and an illithid walk into a bar...

Meet my friends!

RAWR!

Now this is what I call some quality gameplay! No one can attack you if they can't see you. And even if they could see you, you've evoked the "you can't touch me" rules!

In a final act of desperation, the nether brain pleads for its life, trying to entice Shadowheart into becoming Absolute. Of course, Minthara wants Shadowheart to take the brain and they can rule the world as gods. Sadly, Shadowheart has turned into a helpless do-gooder and destroyed the brain. Lame.

Yay! They saved the city and Minthara unintentionally did a good thing! Now, she wants to get shitfaced so she can forget the awful experience of being a hero against her will.

So, Shadowheart sleeps and Minthara trances, right? Meaning Minthara wakes up long before Shadowheart does. Therefore, Minthara has spent at least 4 hours just sitting here, staring at Shadowheart and waiting for her to wake up. I mean, I would do the same thing too...

Babygurl, it is just me and you here. Who the hell do you think I've been partying with without you? Who are you so afraid of? Who are you trying to poison?

You know, Withers could have just visited the evil lesbians in Baldur's Gate instead of throwing this lavish and extravagant party in the middle of nowhere.

Whoooo boi! This has probably been the longest it has taken me to ever complete a run in Baldur's Gate. Not because it was difficult, but because I was fighting burn-out at the same time, and, well, life stuff happened. But now with Patch 7 being here, I can finally download and install some mods to bring back that spark and replay Daedra and maybe complete that Karlach origin that I keep putting off. This will probably be the last time I do a Shadowheart origin as I have already done it three times and I miss her as a companion.

This is my first duo run and I have had a lot of fun with it. Knowing that I only had two companions and limited resources really made me approach combat and scenarios more tactfully and prepare in advance. It also provided me with some really good RP reasons to make some not so morally good decisions. This was a run that started off with Shadowheart making evil decisions out of necessity and survival, but then her selectively choosing to be good and to be better as she knows she has the power to be better. And having a powerhouse like Minthara at her side certainly gave her the confidence. Of course, Minthara had to get dragged through all this character development, grumbling and bitching about it the entire time. Although, I do not think she learned the same lessons as Shadowheart did as she is still up to her same old drow shenanigans.

This entire run was completely inspired by a random Shadowthara gifset I came across months ago and I knew I just had to do it. Shadowheart and Minthara have very quickly become one of my favorite ships and is my second favorite ship for Minthara specifically. I always knew that Shadowheart and Minthara had some overlap in their stories, but I didn't realize just how much they did overlap. I feel most people probably would have had Shadowheart go the DJ route with Minthara (and would be the canon route if Shadowheart only had Minthara by her side). So I went the opposite direction and found a good RP motivator to make Shadowheart reject Shar instead. To be honest, I think Minthara and Selunite Shadowheart mesh better together than DJ Shadowheart (although DJ Shaodwheart and Minthara are delicious in their own way).

Now that the run is completely over, I will get to my final wrap up in the next coming days. I will also polish out the chapters I have already written for my Shadowheart fic and start getting it published. And for all those who have followed me through this run when you really didn't have to:

Thank you!

< Orin |

[msookyspooky]

Based on a really kinky dream I had that's been in my drafts forever 😗😳

TW:

Randy x Stu x CisFem!Reader • Smut!🔞 • Underage Drinking • Slight CNC/Reader and Randy being Persuaded by Stu • Vaginal Penetration • Cunningilus • Slight Degradation • Slight Humiliation • Praise• Threesome • Dirty Talk • Stu being an Ass • Scream and Set Up AU

Wordcount: 6,353

Camping Trip

It was the following Summer after…That happened…The catalyst that screwed up the entire town and everyone part of it. The Woodsboro Murders. You were out of town that weekend because your parents made you go with them; absolutely forbidding you from attending Stu's party while a killer was on the loose…You were glad but also a small part of you felt guilty. Like maybe if you were there; you could have saved your friends.

Randy said he was shot in the chest by someone but he said his memory was a blur. He thought it was Billy, almost swore it was but all evidence said it wasn't and he ended up saying he wasn't sure after evidence said Billy was innocent…All Randy knows is that Billy and Stu claimed Neil was behind it all but he saw Billy with a knife coming towards him right when EMTs and police rushed in. Billy swore he was just heavily wounded, holding the knife for his own safety and just checking on Randy to see if he was alive. Dropping it and wobbling on his feet; begging police to save his girlfriend Sidney. Randy said he remembered Billy wailing when police told him Sidney was dead…Almost too dramatically. Whatever he meant by that? And Dewey didn't remember anything after Neil in a costume stabbed him in the back…Just that Gale Weathers was shot in the head on the porch next to him and they must have assumed Dewey was dead.

But Neil Prescott, Sidney Prescott, Tatum Riley, Gale Weathers and Kenny the Cameraman were tragically murdered that night. You weren't there and two of the survivors had foggy memories and the other two, Billy and Stu, swore it was Neil getting revenge over his wife's death. Killing his own daughter as a murder suicide before trying to kill her boyfriend for his Dad sleeping with Maureen Prescott and all of Sidney's friends in some insane rampage.

You have to admit, it was so odd and made no sense but who were you to argue with two friends that lost both their girlfriends and were nearly stabbed to death? You weren't there but the imprint it left on everyone in Woodsboro was beyond present.

It was early August. You all graduated a few months ago and now everyone was off to college. Randy was going to study film at Windsor College in Ohio. Billy and Stu were going to the East Coast…And you…Had no idea where you were going; if you were even going at all. All you knew was your already slashed friend group was falling apart and you couldn't stomach it.

"Hey…YN?"

You blinked, looking over to see Randy in the passenger seat while Stu sneaked some liquor from his parents house and you sat in the backseat.

"You still here? You look like you're a million miles away."

You gave a slight smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"...You sure?" He tentatively asked.

You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'm cool. Really…Just-" You stretched with a groan. "Ready to go have fun in the woods I guess."

Randy smirked slightly. "Yeah because we just survived Halloween last year; let's go try to survive Friday the 13th next."

You sighed and leaned your head back on the seat. "Yeah…I still can't believe it happened. It's a shame Billy couldn't come with us."

"Not really…" Randy muttered.

You sat up in your seat, looking over at him. "Uh…Why?"

Randy looked towards Stu's front door to make sure you both were alone before looking at you and whispering. "I just…I know what Stu and Billy said but I swear, YN…Billy shot me and was coming over with the knife to finish the job." You went to chuckle, unsure what to say but Randy hissed out. "I'm serious!" Your smile dropped as he continued. "I mean, yes things are blurry for me after being shot and Dewey remembers fuck all nothing but…Something just isn't right! I know Billy is guilty."

You leaned over, risking touching Randy's hand and his gaze softened. Tatum swore you both would end up together telling you 'You could do so much better than a film geek who's foreplay is listing off the top nude scenes in cinema history.'...You disagreed but you were too chicken to just come right out and ask him especially after you knew how much he liked Sidney and now she was gone. The second he told you he got accepted into Windsor this early Summer; you backed off the idea completely.

"Then why not come out-"

Randy hissed out. "Yeah, and have Billy murder me next? I just come up mysterious offing myself off a bridge with a stab wound in my chest police are gonna ignore and say was self inflicted? I don't think so!"

"Randy, I know how you felt about Sidney but…It's been a year. We have to just accept that Neil did it and move on."

Randy gave you an exasperated sigh. "I know it seems like I'm not coping but you don't find it odd that both Stu and Billy were stabbed multiple times in the side? I mean, what type of plot armor is that? And why would Neil kill himself and his daughter at a party with other innocent teens if his motive really was him going crazy with grief?"

You opened your mouth then closed it…Not really sure of the answer yourself.

"I suspected Stu because he was such a lapdog to Billy. Still is…But I can't shake the feeling Billy Loomis is lying and Stu is covering for him. I mean, the dramatic way he was sobbing and screaming-"

"He just lost his girlfriend, Randy."

"Yeah but this was excessive it just…What motive sounds better? Teen boy riddled with angst, angry at his girlfriend not sleeping with him but her Mom slept with his Dad and probably was why his Mom split a few years ago and he's damaged from it beyond repair… Or an old man still upset at his wife's murder that could have just killed him and his daughter anytime at home suddenly going missing and just so happens to reappear to kill a bunch of teens for no reason at a party?"

You frowned. "...Billy's a good guy under it all, Randy. Why would he kill his friends and girlfriend?"

Randy shrugged. "How do we know Stu wasn't in on it?"

You scrunched your face. "What?"

"YN, Casey was Stu's ex and Tatum was Stu's girlfriend and it was at Stu's house and any kills related to Billy would make sense since they're best friends-"

"Randy." You sighed out, patting his hand. "Neil had evidence on the phone records…I don't understand it either but we gotta just accept it and move on."

Randy huffed but glanced at you patting his hand, his glare softening. "Yeah well, if you ask me I think it's a criminal getting away with murder."

"What is?" Stu chimed in, opening the door quickly.

Randy faltered before muttering. "Uh…O.J. Simpson case 2 years ago."

Stu chuckled. "Yeah that was crazy, had me hooked! Came home and watched it every single day." He glanced at your hand on Randy's and smirked. "Whatchya kids doing?…Getting cozy?"

You and Randy jerked your hands away as Randy faintly blushed, turning in his seat and mumbled. "Stu, did you get everything?"

"Yep. Got some fireball and mad dog."

Randy raised a brow. " I expected some fancy chardonnay or scotch."

Stu grinned. "Nah, these are my sister Leslie's…She's knocked up, what she don't know won't hurt her." He started the car.

"Yeah till all her liquor is missing after the baby arrives." You mused.

Stu backed up and smiled. "Nah man, she loves me. I'm the best lil bro ever."

You scoff with a smirk. "I highly fucking doubt that."

"Tskk. Girl, you're lucky it's our going away bash." Stu tsked out with a mock glare before he snickered. You frowned a little as you all drove.

It was near dark when you all finally settled in.

A small set of woods next to a creek with a small bonfire Stu started. He just had to carry a large log and groan loudly while dropping it, flexing his biceps on purpose while grinning at you…It wasn't that you weren't attracted to Stu you just knew how he was. He was hard to say no to but you also knew how much he tried cheating on Tatum. He's a damn dog and you didn't take him too seriously with his flirting.

Randy gave him an annoyed look. "Hey Arnold, how about you get small pieces that actually burn?"

Stu rolled his eyes but took the mad dog bottle with him. "Whatever. I guess the man's gotta do all the work while you girls sit at the fire…Be right back…Don't do any fooling around without me-" Stu winked before walking in the dark.

You and Randy both rolled your eyes as you bashfully chuckled. "G-God he's dumb sometimes."

Randy took a swig of the fireball and chuckled nervously. "No totally is…Like, a moron…"

You both sat at the small fire in silence as you hugged your legs. Randy noticed you shiver. "You cold? Here…Don't say I'm not chivalrous." He put his jacket over you as you smiled softly at him and thanked him.

You both sat in silence a moment longer, listening to the fire crackle before you told him. "So…Windsor."

"Yeah, it's far but it's got the best curriculum and all that…It's really far....Away from Woodsboro bullshit...Gonna be weird being so far away."

You frowned and stared at the fire before mumbling. "I'll miss you, ya know…"

Randy looked taken aback, quietly asking you. "...You will?"

You chug the fireball with a grunt and cough a bit before handing it back to him. "Of course I will. No more movie nights, no more cruising late at night, no more spending time together goofing off…I'm gonna miss your annoying ass, Randy."

"Yeah, you're way more annoying than me." Randy blushed a bit and smiled down at his feet. "Well…God, YN. I'm gonna miss you too, ya know. I just was scared it'd be too embarrassing to say it first…I really…Ya know…I like-"

You looked at him and smiled. "Do you like me?"

"Of course I like you, YN."

"I mean…REALLY like me?"

Randy got flustered, looking down and stumbling over his words. "I mean y-yeah but y-you know…It's not…I do really like you you're pretty and…Not that t-that's the only thing but-"

You felt the fireball whiskey you've all been sharing taking effect. Honestly, your throat burned from it and you weren't as cold. And…You might never see Randy again. You liked him even if he wasn't as conventional attractive as Billy or as smooth as Stu; you liked him. Maybe you were just being a hopeless romantic horny teen or or maybe you were just panicking over him leaving or maybe it was genuine but all you knew was that…If you didn't act now, it would never happen. Even if Randy went to the opposite end of the country and met a bunch of college girls and forgot about you…It was still something your tipsy mind felt inclined to do.

I smiled at him while he rambled. "Randy?"

He hummed in his throat with that bashful look on his face you were starting to enjoy.

"...Stop talking and kiss me." You softly told him with a smile.

"O-Oh?....Oohh." He smiled a goofy grin with a red face, his fair skin no match for the way you were flustering him. Honestly, your cheeks felt warm too and you weren't sure if that's the alcohol or your nerves talking.

You both slowly leaned forward and kissed. It was feather light and chaste before you both smiled and did it again a bit longer this time and before you knew it…He scooted closer to you and ran his hands up and down your shoulder through his jacket while your lips moved together. You hummed into the kiss as you just…God, what were you doing? You gently pulled him down by his shirt collar as he moaned softly against your mouth. Before your lips moved together a few minutes and…You soon groaned lightly as you felt his tongue tentatively run across your lips before you met his tongue as well…Both of you making out in the woods next to a bonfire…It wasn't unheard of or anything. You both were 19 and you both clearly had feelings for each other or at least attraction …You felt like you should stop and think but you couldn't. Your body was warm and tingly, Randy was moaning and moving his lips so slow and tentative across your mouth, his tongue was shyly exploring you…You can tell he didn't kiss like this often but you didn't care either. If anything? It made you want to keep going. To let this be a fun first of many things before he left.

You experimentally rubbed your tongue in firm circles against his and he groaned softly. His tongue is getting more erratic. Not rough but less controlled as his hands started trailing up your leg. You bit his lip slightly and he sounded out your name. Just hearing that made you heat up…God, it's like you couldn't control yourself! You weren't drunk but the tiny bit of liquid courage and hormonal lust and the romanticism of being in the woods next to a crackling fire and knowing he was leaving for god knows how long. You gripped his hair and kissed him more passionately with a louder moan against his mouth. Both of you made out as he ran his hand up to your thigh and you just…Instinctively opened your thighs. God you just had to wear something that showed this much skin. His hand eagerly yet nervously up and down your thigh gripping and rubbing while trailing to your hips as you massaged your tongue with his.

Then he did something that made you whine in your throat. Roughly massaging your hips and biting your lip. He quickly stopped pulling away with concern. "Shit…Oh shit, did I hurt you? I'm sorry-" He breathlessly huffed out.

You furiously shook your head and dragged him back to your mouth. "No, do it again-" Both of your tongues meeting once more as your thigh hitches around his hip to pull him closer. This was getting out of control. This was so sudden and crazy and you were almost scared what this would do to your friendship but then you remembered all 3 of them Billy, Stu and Randy leave in a week or less and those cares go out the window. Hell, you might leave Woodsboro and they might never come back and you might never seen them again.

You trusted Randy, you felt safe with Randy, you felt…Damn turned on with how his thumb was subconsciously caressing your pelvic bone.

"Randy." You pant out as he just kept kissing you rougher than before. Like you turned him on as much as he turned you on. Like he was glued at the hip to you and couldn't possibly escape. You lightly pushed him up to talk. His eyes searched to make sure you were enjoying this as he sweetly stopped the second you asked…Oh…Oh you knew. He was it. If it was happening, it was happening right fucking now and you just had to act on it before you chickened out. "Randy…I want to."

Randy raised a brow blinking repeatedly as if he hadn't heard you right as he stammered. "W-What? Want??..."

" Randy…Sex." Your face warmed as you smiled at him. "You don't have to."

He hesitated. "I know I'm being a dork but why?"

You sheepishly smirked and stumbled out. "W-Well...Listen, we both like each other. We both feel good right now and Stu hasn't came back in minutes doing god knows what and hopefully he gives us privacy. And…I might not see you for a long while."

Randy couldn't get any redder but his eyes hooded a bit while he swallowed. "Are…Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Hurry before he does come back. There's no one I trust like you and this is perfect right now." You admitted with a shy smile.

You saw Randy look at you fondly. The look in itself made you feel butterflies as he went back to kissing you. Getting more adventurous as his one hand squeezed your thigh and the other played with your chest through your shirt. You grunted and quickly started getting rid of any fabric on your lower body as Randy's hands shook undoing his belt and zipper. Both of you excited and nervous and just eager to do something like this.

"Are you positive? Are you drunk or-"

You cupped his face. "I'm not any more tipsy than you are. Don't hesitate on my part...Do you want this?"

He eagerly nodded with a groan as he nervously positioned himself near your entrance. You were wet enough for him to slide in if he pushed. He kept his tip there and groaned out. "I'm asking...Because I never thought in a million years a girl like you would do this with me."

"Randy, put it in." You encouraged him with a bite of your lip. You hummed in your throat as you felt him push in. He wasn't long or too girthy. In fact, he felt slightly bigger than if a few fingers were in you…But for how nervous you both were and how quick this had to be? It was the perfect size. He hesitantly moved in you and groaned while you huffed a bit. You nodded your head when he looked at you and he did it again. And again. His hips slowly found a rhythm as he seemed to curve into your g spot every so often. You softly whined as you reached up to kiss him. Feeling heat all over and those feel good tingling sensation shoot from your g spot deep into your core with those certain strokes.

"Up a bit. Angle your hips upward." You instructed with a smile and bite of your lip.

"Like this?" Randy's eyes were hooded as his mouth parted. He angled his hips to roll up and you moaned a bit.

"Just like that…Just like that, Randy…Oh." You softly moaned as you felt yourself get more turned on with each stroke. "Faster…" You became painfully aware after a few moments that Stu could come back and you both could be interrupted. "Yes, Randy…Yes." You softly sighed out as he picked up the pace and you moaned a bit. Feeling your hips move with him. His dick rubbing against a very nice spot thanks to him listening to you.

"Oh YN…Oh shit, YN…You feel so good." Randy whimpered out a bit as you could tell he was getting close.

You kissed him and in between kisses. "Not yet…Please I'm close not yet-" You whined as you tried focusing on the pleasure of it all. Being with Randy like this, the memory of it going to seal into your brain forever at how close your feeling to him and how good he was making you feel even for a first time and even if you didn't cum.

Another few moments went by and you swore you were on the edge as Randy looked like he was really trying to hold out for you…All before you heard a whistle.

You both froze, stopped moving completely. Stu's annoying voice ringing out. "No fucking way! God damn, I leave for 10 minutes and you're both fucking in the woods?! YN…Damn girl, I didn't know you got down like that and with Ray?" Stu laughed out while sticking out his tongue.

Randy pulled out so quick it was almost painful as he covered himself and you tried shoving your legs together as Stu walked closer.

Randy was so red faced with a glare as he breathlessly snapped. "You were probably fucking watching us and just waiting to ruin it, perv!"

Stu chuckled but kept walking closer. "Maybe…It was kind of hot…Well, YN was…" You quickly tried to get your clothes over your wet and throbbing between your legs with how close you were to cumming before Stu squatted down and whispered to you. "Hey, babygirl. Shhh…Calm down…You enjoyed that, didn't you?" He smiled at you.

You felt mortified. You were started to wonder if Stu was a fucking sadist with how much joy he got in spoiling these sort of things. He couldn't wait 2 more minutes, if that?!

Stu touched your knee and Randy protectively shoved it away. "Hey man, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"Relax!" Stu drew out. "Relax baby…You look like you had fun…Do you feel good?" Stu gently pushed your chin up with his hand and you felt your head spinning.

Stu smiled down at you and your eyes couldn't help seeing the bulge in his jeans. A big ass fucking bulge. Your mouth dried and you screamed at yourself this was wrong to Randy and this was fucked up and this was all going too far but Stu gently pushed your chin up to look at him. "You're beautiful, baby…Had me so damn hard watching you.... Did Randy make your pussy feel good, honey?" He cooed softly.

You couldn't even answer that! The way Stu was looking at you and his voice dripping those words…His frame and his tent in his pants. This was nuts…Oh god this was nuts but fuck you were losing what little resolve you had.

Randy shoved him as Stu fell back on his ass with a grin. "Hey! Enough!" Randy snapped out.

Stu smirked at you as he leaned back. His bulge looked even bigger as you saw his muscles in his arms and that flirty grin on his face. He stuck out his long thick tongue jokingly like he did and your clit jolted on its own. You couldn't deny his appeal or charming words while he was looking at you.

"Is it enough, Ray?...I don't think it is." He crawled towards you and your chest heaved up and down with every eager breath. "I think…She is very, very unsatisfied. I think she needs a little more…Don't you baby?" He crawled over to you and before Randy could react. He kissed you.

Stu was so passionate and eager compared to Randy. His tongue demanded to go in your mouth as he gripped your head and ran firm but slow movements along your teeth and tongue all before sucking on your tongue a bit. He released you, teeth grazing your lower lip with a chuckle as you were in a daze looking at him.

Randy went to fight or flight, you weren't sure which before Stu held up a hand. "Now hold on here, man! Why don't we all have fun? It's just us three in the woods. We're all going to separate college's. You didn't shoot your load…She's hot and bothered...I'm horny myself…Why not?"

Stu gazed at you lustfully and you felt down right out submissive and shy in the best way with him. It was like night and day between him and Randy but you were so turned on and tipsy and Stu was making good points.

You knew it wasn't a good idea…But fuck it.

"...Okay."

Randy's eyes widened at you. "Okay!?" He seemed hurt.

"Only if you're okay with it, Randy!" You quickly saved, looking up at him. "Stu's right, we're all going to college soon at least you both are. And so far away and we're all kind of turned on and it's…It's whatever you want."

Randy seemed completely torn and you couldn't blame him. You were too.

Stu sighed. "Come on, man! Look, it's a one time thing and even though most girls can't get enough of me once I lay down the pipe-" He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure she'll probably meet you on break every semester to tickle your gerkin, alright? I ain't stealing her or nothin and it'll be fun…Actually never had a threesome before."

Randy still seemed conflicted till Stu just put his hand in between your legs. You yelped in surprise before he started rubbing the softest circles right above your clit on the hood. It made it feel good but ache for more at the same time as you just couldn't contain the tiny moan that came out as he whispered in your ear. "That's a good girl…You like that, don't you?"

He looked at Randy while he still played with you. His thick long fingers sliding down both lips on either side; up and down. Getting the blood flow circulating as you just naturally opened your legs with a soft groan. Your pussy on full display to Randy as he gulped and stared.

"See? You really wanna leave her like this? She's so damn willing and ready, man. Don't you wanna take turns getting dirty in the woods with such a dirty little girl we got here?" He teased you as he kissed your neck and his fingers rubbed over your clit. You moaned louder with your head falling back as Stu's fingers rubbed rougher than you liked but with how turned on you were it just felt good.

Before you knew it, Stu put both hands on your thighs and slowly pushed them open. "Easy, baby, Easy, easy…Let me show you a good time, babe." He whispered to you as you saw Randy watch with a bite of his lip.

You nodded as you let Stu separate your thighs and being the sadist he was. He just stared at your pussy for as long as it made you self conscious…All before taking his fingers and barely touching your clit with the back of them. Tilting his head and smirking as you squirmed a bit.

"Someone's a little eager slut tonight."

"Stu just!-...Do something!" You groaned out in annoyance. This was already surreal and he was making you have second thoughts teasing like this.

"Alright, alright…She's a bossy slut too." He mocked while unzipping himself. Your eyes bulged at how big he was. He was 6'4 and lean so it shouldn't be a shock but compared to Randy? It made you a bit nervous. He smiled at you. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make it fit…You'll be so sloppy wet for me. It'll slide right in that hot little pussy like butter, babygirl."

You felt heat in your core at how he looked at you and talked to you. Jesus Christ.

He laughed. "Damn, Randy! She's bone dry-" Stu spit right on your pussy. "You suck, man."

You went to roll your eyes and argue he was full of shit and Randy had you wet. Not dripping but wet…But everything died in your throat when you felt a hot wet tongue swipe that spit over your inner lips. You couldn't help gasping loudly. Stu just did what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted with such vulgar passion. He didn't hesitate anything as he just dove right into eating you out.

You cried out louder than you intended as his tongue started lapping slowly but firm over your aching clit. Rolling that long hot tongue over and over. The whimpers and moans just spilled out of you as Stu eagerly licked your pussy. His tongue was just as flexible as it was long as he made all kinds of wet noises with his mouth as he licked and sucked at your clit. Sucking while doing fast licking motions had your hips bucking a bit.

You were in your own world right now. You didn't know anything but how Stu was making you feel with how eager he was.

You spared a glance at Randy to see him roughly palming himself through his pants with a bite of his lip. Just that sight turned you on beyond repair. All of this did! In fact, you were shocked how quickly you came. It took half the amount of time it did for you normally as you cried out and grabbed Stu's head. Your hips bouncing against him involuntarily before just laying there spasming. You tried squirming away as Stu smirked against your folds, continuing his assault on your sensitive clit even after the orgasm.

"Stu! S-Shit, noooo-oooohh." You moaned out even if that 'no' didn't have as much force as it should have.

"Hey, she's done." Randy told Stu with a glare. Clearly both jealous and bitter yet turned on at the same time.

Stu rolled his eyes and pulled away, purposely wiping your wetness off his chin in front of you. "Finnnee…I got her soaked anyways. Think she's ready to take all this-" He sat up and held the base of his dick. It was at least 7 to 8 inches long and thicker than you thought. You couldn't tell if it was as thick as Randy or slightly more but it was a sight for sure.

Randy looked at you. "YN, you don't have to do this-"

"Man, shut up!" Stu barked out before scoffing. "If she didn't want it, she'd say it…Ain't that right, YN? Come on, Sweetcheeks. I kinda want you to beg for it anyways-" Stu leveled his cockhead at your wet entrance and you quivered a bit. "Go on. Beg."

You were tongue tied before he slid it up between your folds. The wet shlicking noises just as loud as the fire crackling as his tip met your clit and he just rubbed his length up and down between your wet lips.

"Beg for it." He demanded again.

"I-I want it." You forced out with a swallow.

"You can beg better than that, girl. Tell me what a filthy slut you are."

Randy glared at Stu but you were so horny and him talking to you like that was something you didn't know you needed but now you did!

"I'm a slut for it…I want it." You mumbled as Randy's eyes widened.

Stu stared down at you. His gaze dark and his eyes transfixed on you as he tapped his cock in his hand against your clit. "What are you a slut for?"

"For…Wanting you to fuck me in the woods in front of Randy." It sounded so wrong but it just came out.

Stu smirked. "Are you my slut?"

That you faltered on and he barely stuck it in. That tiny little burn no matter how wet you were both annoyed you and made you crazy. It was mildly uncomfortable but made you ache for it.

"Are you…My…Slut?" He demanded.

"God damn it, Stu! Fine! I'm your filthy slut, okay?!" You hissed out eagerly looking down.

Stu giggled a bit and stuck his tongue out. "Man, I just asked for slut but now you're a filthy one? Yeah, you are. You're a filthy girl. A dirty, filthy, slutty girl and you're all mine…And now Ray gets to watch how I fuck my girls pussy."

He slid in faster than he needed to and you openly him. "Stop!"

Stu rolled his eyes but didn't slam back in again. "Yeah, I know I got a lot of manhood to take…Don't worry, you'll get used to it." He barely moved his hips upward and between the stretch and the motion you didn't know whether to cry or moan.

Stu whistled at Randy. "Hey, you just gonna let her be in pain here? Come on, boy wonder. Rub her clit."

You didn't want it to stop but your body was having a hard time getting used to the stretch. You bit your lip and cringed and before you knew it, Randy was on his knees and his hand was between your legs. You sighed as he rubbed tiny firm circles on your clit.

Stu whispered huskily. "Atta girl…Easy easy…Her pussy just took another inch of me on its own. Keep rubbing her, Ray."

Randy retorted as he spread some of your wetness over your clit and moved it around the hardened bud. "I'm shocked you know what a clit is. Figured you hit it like a caveman and split before the girl can even put her panties back on."

Stu grabbed your ankles in his hands and started moving in you. "Man, screw you. You're the fucking virgin…Was…How do you know what a clit is?"

"Anatomy books and uh…Look, the video store gets boring and we got porno's to stock." Randy rubbed those circles on your clit with his long but soft fingers. "How you feeling YN?"

You moaned softly with each trust. "Good. Faster." You closed your eyes and tried to just focus on how thick Stu was, how he filled you up and seemed to touch every nerve, how Randy's fingers felt.

Stu smirked. "You heard her, man. Faster." And before you knew it, Stu let go of your ankles and shoved your knees back instead, putting his full weight on your thighs as he started pumping in and out of you. He wasn't hard but it was a steady, fast and steady rhythm that made your leg shake.

"FUCK!" You cried out, moaning louder as Randy picked up the pace and bit his lip while he watched you.

Stu jerked your shirt and ordered Randy. "Help out a little, man! Undo her bra and play with her tits. I wanna see them bounce a bit. God knows you never felt those before. Probably gonna tweak the nipple like a radio knob." Stu chuckled in between huffs as he thrusted in you.

Randy blushed and shoved your bra up to show your breast. "Bite me." Randy retorted while one hand circled your nipple and the other circled your clit at the same rhythm.

"Jesus Christ, man. Pinch it, pull it, rub it harder. She needs to cum. She's desperate for it."

Randy hesitated before gently pulling one of your nipples while rubbing your clit faster and you felt your head roll back with a moan.

"Yeah man, keep playing with those. She loves it." Stu talked like you weren't a person. Like you were a toy and somehow that turned you on more.

Then, he hit a spot that had you jolt and a wave of hot pleasure course through you. It was past your g spot and near your cervix you couldn't tell if it was behind or below or what but you just knew it was an area you couldn't reach with fingers but the way he positioned you had him hitting that A spot. It should hurt but instead it almost felt like a mini orgasm course through you but not quite. It was...Fucking amazing!

Stu and Randy saw your reaction and gave you a curious look. Stu slowly rolled his hips so he pressed against that spot again and your back arched. Stu got a wicked grin on his face as he started pumping into you there in those deep long strokes. "I think I found a sweet spot, huh Sweetcheeks?"

You moaned high pitched as you felt that heat pooling in you. Randy kept playing with your clit and nipples with a strained turned on expression.

Stu giggled. "I know Randy's probably a cuck on the low but damn girl you're selfish. You aren't gonna offer him a hand or anything?"

The idea of getting Randy off turned you on and honestly felt right with how he was pleasuring you. Everything was ecstasy right now as you tried to hastily undo his pants while Stu kept bouncing your body while thrusting in you. Randy quickly helped you, all of you breathing heavily and moaning or grunting. You grasped Randy and started pumping him quickly. You were so close and so fucking turned on you couldn't imagine going slow. He didn't seem to mind, moaning deeply as he kept massaging your clit and Stu held you down; pounding against that deep spot that felt addictive.

This lasted another few moments before Stu started grunting and going a bit faster. And that's all it took. Him pounding that wonderful spot and your g spot every other thrust while holding you down, Randy rubbing your clit and roughly palming your breast, you jerking Randy off and hearing him moan and whimper. You came undone almost screaming. Stu clamped his hand over your mouth and pounded. "That's right, baby. Cum on my cock! Take this shit, babygirl...Good girl. That's a good girl, cum for me."

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he made you ride it out. Your kegel muscles sucking and squeezing on him involuntarily as he dragged himself out of you and quickly started jerking his cock off. It was just seconds before Stu groaned and hot spurts of his cum splashed onto your stomach. He let go of your mouth as Randy stopped moving on your clit. Closing his eyes and whining as you pumped him still.

"Shit…Shit-" Stu laughed out breathlessly. "That was a close call, man…God damn, YN…" He groaned out before looking at Randy with a smile.

Randy hadn't came yet, huffing and trying as you jerked him off.

Stu being the talker he was told you. "Give the man some release. Let him cum on your tits, babe. It's gonna be the only pair he'll ever get."

You nodded, almost smiling at the idea as you saw how desperate Randy was. "It's okay, Randy. Go ahead. I want you to cum...Cum for me, Randy."

Stu chimed in. "See? She gave you the A okay, my guy-"

"Stu, I'd cum faster if you would shut up." Randy grumbled with furrowed eyebrows.

Stu snickered to himself.

You decided to help Randy a bit. Moving your hand up and down his thigh through his jeans while encouraging him. "That's it Randy...That's it, cum for me...You're doing good." It took just a few moments before Randy's body stiffened and a low groan escaped him and he came on you.

You didn't even care. You were exhausted and on cloud nine as you all just stayed there a moment before Stu bent down and licked his own cum off your belly. You just sighed and tried to calm down a bit. Praying he didn't lick between your legs again because a part of you was too sensitive and another part knew you wouldn't be able to say no.

Stu wiped his mouth. "I'll clean mine but I am not cleaning Ray's. That's gay."

You couldn't help chuckling as Randy rolled his eyes and offered you a napkin. He almost went to clean you off but saw your breast and faltered a bit. Sheepishly handing it to you to clean off yourself while he looked away a bit. The realization of post nut clarity hitting him and maybe you? But Stu seemed unashamed as hell.

Stu finally zipped himself up. "So, are we doing this again?"

You cringed. "Stu I don't know this was like a one time thing so...Maybe later? All I know is we are NEVER letting this get out."

"Aw, where's the fun in that?"

Randy coughed and looked away as he mumbled at Stu. "Seriously man, what happens in the woods stays in the woods."

Stu rolled his eyes with a smirk. "You prudes. It was fun! Not my fault Randy was a cuck and YN is a bit of a kinkier girl than what she wants to say-" He got up. "Okay, Imma take a leak. You guys better not do anything without me…AGAIN."

You and Randy both sat there awkwardly smiling and trying to form the words for what happened and what this meant going forward.

Meanwhile, Stu quickly rushed a ways away from the bonfire with a wicked grin on his face. Pulling out his flip phone he just got that had really become smaller than the cellular he and Billy used last year.

He giggled as he typed up Billy's number. Randy just was desperate for female attention especially after they murdered Sid, Stu liked you but he also just liked sex and anyone giving him attention if he was being honest but Billy? He genuinely had a crush on you for years but you never realized it. Stu knew Billy would probably kick his ass but it was worth it.

"Hey Billy boy…Guess what I juusstt diiid…And with who."