#i’m never going to shut up about this!!!!!

[lauraschiller]

When I was seven years old, I found a room that exists outside of time.

It was shortly after my parents died - I’d rather not talk about that, if you don’t mind - and their friends Rudy and Kirsten took me in. They had asked me to think of them and their three children as family, but I couldn’t quite manage it yet. They were good people and they did their best, but sometimes I just couldn’t stand the noises in that house. 

It felt especially loud to me that day; my ears still ring just thinking about it. I wandered from one corner of the house to the other, my orange plush cat and a tattered paperback copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe clutched in my arms, looking for somewhere - anywhere - quiet. 

I couldn’t read in my own room because I shared it with Melissa, and she was practicing on the piano. If you think that sounds soothing, you’ve never heard the same fumbled chord over and over on a tinny electric keyboard. I stood by the door for a while anyway, curious about what the piece would sound like if she got it right. She looked up, lifted her purple-polished nails off the keys, and frowned. “Do you mind? I’m trying to concentrate!”

So was I, but I shuffled off down the hallway without a word.

In the living room downstairs, Frank and Josh were sprawled on the couch in their sweatpants and sports jerseys, playing a video game. Virtual gunfire shook the floor. Blood splattered across the screen. I flinched. They laughed.

“Scaredy-cat!” Frank sneered after me as I ran.

“Hey, leave her alone,” Josh said. “She’s just a kid.”

I could hear them bickering and shoving as I ducked into the kitchen.

“Boys!” Kirsten called through the door. “Can you please kill each other more quietly?”

They turned down the volume by a few decibels, but kept playing.

She was standing at the counter, chopping a carrot. I must have seen her that way hundreds of times, with her green-and-yellow-striped apron on and her hair - it was still blonde then - falling out of its clip. She put down her knife and pushed the flyaway strands out of her face. “Did you need something, dear?”

“I … uh … ”

“Looking for a place to read?” She smiled down at the book and toy I was holding.

“I … can’t,” I said. My throat was tight. “There isn’t anywhere.”

“In an old house like this, there’s always somewhere.” She cupped my cheek with a hand still wet from washing vegetables and kissed me on the forehead. I usually avoid being touched, not because I don’t like it, but because the feeling tends to linger for a long time. “This is your home. I hope you know that.”

I nodded, the lump in my throat growing tighter. 

She scraped all the carrots into the blender and switched it on. The sound of that machine, a shrill roar that rattled my teeth all the way to the back of my head, made conversation impossible. I fled back upstairs.

Kirsten was right; the house was old. It was a modest red brick split-level, the kind we used to see more of in this neighborhood before they got crowded out by these giant cubes made of glass and concrete. The floorboards creaked. The paint on the walls was cracked and peeling in a few places, forming patterns like spiderwebs. Wind and rain rattled the window panes. I walked in circles, opening and closing the same doors over and over, re-memorizing the layout - bathroom here, linen closet there - as if my life depended on it. I could still hear all the noises of the house - the blender, Melissa’s keyboard, the boys’ shooter game, the constant hum of the fridge and heater, the driving rain outside - jangling wildly in my ears. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I had to get away. 

I grabbed the nearest doorknob, hurled myself through and shut it behind me.

The noises stopped.

My skin tingled.

I was standing in a room I had never seen before, a room I knew at once was somehow different from every other part of the house, even before I could define it. Besides the quiet, the difference was in the light. While the rain had turned the light everywhere else a washed-out gray, here it was the warm gold of an afternoon just before sunset. It flickered through the branches of the maple tree growing beside the house, making leaf-shadows dance on the walls. I was almost a little surprised to see that maple. To my seven-year-old mind, it would have been just as logical for the window to open on a whole other world.

In other respects, it seemed like an ordinary room. Two armchairs stood on either side of the window, their indigo upholstery faded from the sun like a favorite pair of jeans. A little table stood between them with a cloth draped over it, deep blue like the chairs, printed with an intricate pattern of white vines and flowers. Shelves lined the walls, holding books, magazines, little ornaments (including a teddy bear with oatmeal-colored fur, a pair of ceramic dancers in white wigs and ruffles, and an unlit candle beside a black-and-white photograph of people I didn’t know), and a turntable complete with a row of vinyl records ...

It was all so much like home, I could barely breathe.

That tablecloth was my mother’s, made by the grandmother I was named for, with a method called Blaudruck or blue-dyeing that was centuries old. As a child, you take these things for granted - I’d never even asked what had happened to all these things - but now I walked around the table examining it from all angles, smoothed the creases, traced the swirling leaves and petals with my fingertip, and even leaned down to sniff it. It smelled like the lavender sachets my mother used to keep in her closet. 

The records were my father’s. He had trusted me to handle them, even at my age. He had shown me how to slide them carefully out of their cardboard sleeves; to touch only the edges and the center, never the surface; to wipe off any fingerprints with a soft cloth. On that day, however, I didn’t play any of them; it was enough just to flick through them, to look at the cover art - a rainbow arcing through a black triangle; a little green dragon perched on the moon - and puzzle over the mysterious grown-up lyrics printed on the back of the sleeves. 

I don’t know how long I stayed in that room. I only know I never stopped to think about the time, which is the surest sign of being happy. I curled up in one of the armchairs to read my book and pet my plush cat until I could have sworn he purred.

/

“So, what have you all been up to?” Rudy asked across the dinner table that evening, as he always did when he came home from the office.

That question used to make me fidget every time I heard it. When he surveyed us from under his peaked black eyebrows, frown lines carved into his face, I always suspected him of suspecting us of some kind of trouble. It took me years to figure out that this was only his awkward way of making conversation. 

Kirsten, who was used to him, grumbled good-naturedly about the challenges of knitting stripes, which reminded Melissa of how tricky her new piano piece was, which reminded the boys of the new game level they had reached (complete with arguments about who had played it better). I was only half listening, relieved to have their attention off me as I waited for my hot soup to cool down to edible.

“What about you, Hertha? How are you spending your summer vacation so far?” 

My spoon splashed into the soup.

“Reading? Drawing? Watching movies?” Rudy was an unstoppable list-maker. He would fire off options one after another until I chose one, and if I didn’t choose quickly enough, possibly start from the beginning. I waited for what I felt was a suitable pause between words - I’d been reminded often enough that it was rude to interrupt, although how to avoid interrupting people who talked this much was a different matter - took a deep breath, and dived in like a cartoon burglar through a laser grid.

“I was in the other living room,” I said. “Reading. With Leo.” (Leo was the name of my plush cat.)

Rudy’s frown lines deepened. “Other living room?”

“The … the one upstairs,” I faltered. “With the record player.”

“There’s no living room upstairs,” he said. “Just your bedrooms and the linen cupboard. And what record player?” 

“But I really was there!” I blurted out. “It’s not like anywhere else in the house. It was sunny there and … and it smelled like our old house.”

I could pinpoint the exact moment when he decided not to believe me. He gave me the same shaky smile I’d seen from all the guests at my parents’ funeral, the one that said he felt sorry for me, but had absolutely no idea how to help. 

“Oh, that’s … that’s nice,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “That sounds beautiful.”

“Upstairs? Like what, the cupboard?” whispered one of the children. I was staring down into the thick orange gloop that was my dinner, though, and didn’t look up to see who it was. “She was pretending in the cupboard?”

“I knew she was weird. Even before - ”

“Shut up!”

“Kids, stop it.” Kirsten’s clear voice cut through the whispers like a knife. “Remember what we talked about before. If Hertha needs her personal space, then we give it to her. Without judging her. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mom,” they chorused.

I didn’t want them to give me space, only to believe me. But if there was one thing I took away from that conversation, it was this: I should never talk about the other living room again.

A short time later, when Kirsten asked me about it in a smiling, casual way - “So, how was the upstairs living room? Everything comfortable?” - I assumed that she was only humoring me, and gave her the coldest look my seven-year-old eyes could muster.

“I don’t play that game anymore,” I informed her.

She looked at me with something like sadness, but then shrugged and let the subject drop.

/

It was about forty years later that I came back for Kirsten’s funeral.

After the reading of the will, we all somehow found ourselves back at the house, drinking iced tea in the living room as stiffly and formally as if we’d never sprawled on the sofa, read all night in the armchair, or watched cartoons on the old TV that no longer worked. Melissa wore a sleek black dress and a hat with a spotted veil. Frank and Josh wore their best black suits. I wore the only black dress I owned, an old polyester number that itched and clung after our sweltering car ride from the lawyer’s office. Rudy wasn’t there - he had passed away a few years earlier - but someone had lit a candle beside his picture on the fireplace mantel. It felt like his funeral all over again, as well as his wife’s, which in a way it was. 

“So,” said Melissa, stirring the ice cubes in her glass with a sharp clatter. “Did any of you have any idea that Mom would do this?”

“Nope,” and “Not me,” said the men. 

All three of them turned to look at me.

“I … didn’t know either.” I had to cough twice before my scratchy voice would work. “I didn’t know she’d leave this house to me. I never … I never asked her to.”

“Of course not.” Her smile was brittle. “I didn’t think you did. I mean, you’re not exactly the domestic type. What would you want with a whole house? ”

“To live in it, maybe?” Josh suggested, raising his head from where he leaned tiredly against his corner of the sofa. 

“I’m just saying.” She waved her hand in the air to indicate all the space in this room. “It’s too big for a single person. Some of us have families - ”

“Mel,” Josh protested.

“Sorry, Hertha. You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not like I begrudge her anything,” she said, turning to Josh. “It’s just - ”

“If you ask me,” Frank chimed in, although no one had actually asked him, “The most logical thing to do would be to sell it.” Melissa relaxed into the cushions and nodded, as if she’d been about to suggest the same thing. “The value of this place has gone up through the roof since Mom and Dad bought it. If we sell it and divide the proceeds between the four of us, it would only be fair, don’t you think?”

“It’s your decision, Hertha,” said Josh, meeting my eyes point-blank. “What do you want to do?”

I had no idea - or rather, I had far too many at once.

Frank was right, but why did he sound so wrong to me? I couldn’t bear to leave this house, but how was I supposed to look after it? What if something broke and I couldn’t afford the repairs? My job at the time let me work remotely, but didn’t pay much. I’d been bouncing from one shabby rental apartment to another, where the landlord took care of problems and if they didn’t, I could just move. I was completely unprepared to be a homeowner. I’d run it into the ground. If Rudy were here, he’d probably agree. I could almost hear him calculating how much the house would fetch on today’s real estate market, but would that be because it was the logical solution, or because I wasn’t really his daughter? Even if I could keep the house, would the others ever forgive me for taking what should have been theirs?

What would Kirsten say if she were here? What would my parents say? 

All these thoughts went boiling up inside my head like lava in a volcano, then erupted in tears. I barely had time to mutter “Excuse me, I need a moment,” before running upstairs, so that these three logical adults wouldn’t see me disgrace my forty-seven years by crying.

Half blind with tears, I reached for the bathroom door so I could sob myself out and wash my face. I thought I saw two doors in the wall instead of one, but that had to be my eyes playing tricks on me. 

I thought of the magical room I used to daydream about as a child. If ever I needed a place like that, it would be now, but surely it couldn’t be real. Still, I missed it more than I had ever missed anything in my life.

If only it were real … 

I stumbled through the door.

This was not the bathroom.

The other living room hadn’t changed a bit from what I’d imagined - no, remembered. My mother’s indigo tablecloth was still draped over the table. My father’s records still leaned in a row next to the player. The two armchairs looked as cozy as they ever had. Even the light coming in through the window was the light of a different day and time. Outside, it had been the kind of hot, humid August day that feels like you’re breathing pea soup. From this window, I could see a full silver moon and a golden street lamp shining over a blue-white blanket of snow. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The time display was blinking as if it had shorted out.

The other living room was real. Even when I looked for it as a teenager and couldn’t find it, even when I told myself it was only make-believe at best and a delusion at worst, even when I moved out to go to college and never felt at home anywhere again, all along it had been real.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, walking softly around the room, and: “Thank you.”

I told myself I was only going to stay until I calmed down, but I couldn’t seem to stop crying. Everything set me off, from the teddy bear on the shelf to the scent of lavender, blending with the lemon soap that Kirsten had always used as if the two of them had just stepped out moments ago. I crumpled up one tissue after another from the box on the table and stuffed them into my pockets. My eyes and nose burned.

I never heard the door open, or the sound of slippered footsteps on the rug. What made me look up was a soft, shaky intake of breath - in a voice that was not mine.

“Oh my,” said Kirsten. “Well … the doctors did warn me.”

She must have taken one look at my black dress, red nose and swollen eyes and guessed from what time I had just come. Looking at her, I could make a similar guess: This was after she’d stopped chemo, but before she had gone to the hospice. Her hair was growing back in soft white wisps. She looked pale and drawn, but not as much as during those last weeks. She wore the soft burgundy shawl Rudy had given her on the last Christmas before his heart attack. She shuffled into the room, wrapping the ends of that shawl around her as if she were cold.

I really had to stop crying now. It would be too unfair to make her comfort me about her own death. Besides, sheer astonishment was drying my tears faster than anything else could have done. In all the years I’d lived or even visited this house, I had never seen another person enter this room.

“How … how is this happening?” I croaked. “How are you here? I thought … ”

“You thought you were the only one?” Her wrinkles deepened into a wry, knowing smile. “Who do you think showed you the way? Or tried to, anyhow. After all these years, I’m glad to see it actually worked.”

She settled herself in the armchair next to mine with a creak and a sigh, waiting patiently for me to collect my scattered thoughts.

“Showed me the … ? Oh!” I thought back to the day I had first found the room. What I usually remembered was loneliness, but in that moment, I heard Kirsten’s “This is your home” as clearly as if it were the first time. “Oh … thank you!”

“You’re very welcome.”

“But you … we never talked about it … ”

“You didn’t seem to want to,” said Kirsten with a shrug. “I figured you needed privacy.”

All these years we had missed out on sharing something so precious to both of us. 

“How did you even find this place? Did you … ” My voice dropped to an awed whisper as a new idea occurred to me. “Did you … create it?”

“Me?” She laughed until she had to catch her breath. “Goodness, no! If I could control time and space like that, I’d make a door to some sunny beach somewhere.” She shook her head and wiped her eyes, still grinning. “No, I found it when we first moved here, before the kids were born. I made such a mess in the kitchen one night, just when Rudy’s boss was invited to dinner. Tomato sauce everywhere, I swear, it looked like a crime scene! I ran to the cupboard for paper towels, panicking all the time, and opened this door instead. You can imagine how that put my messy kitchen into perspective.”

I laughed along with her, not only because it was so rare for the Kirsten I knew to panic, but because I knew exactly what she meant. 

“So you had time to clean before the boss showed up?”

“Oh no, but at least it gave us something to joke about.” Her smile faded away into a wistful little sigh. “Those were good times.”

I nodded slowly. This room did have a way of reminding you of your good times. I ran my finger over the swirling white vine pattern on my mother’s tablecloth the way I used to as a child. The dye hadn’t faded. Nothing ever seemed to fade here. 

“Was it you who put my parents’ things here?”

“Yes, I did.” She peered down with respectful attention at the pattern I was tracing. “They left them for you. I couldn’t think of a safer place.”

I had no words for what that had meant to me over the years except a half-choked “Thank you,” but she smiled and patted my hand as if she understood.

“I, um … I have another question.” One I never thought I’d have the chance to ask before now, even though it had been on my mind for decades.

“You can ask me anything,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“Did you ever … ” 

How did I say this without sounding completely unhinged? It did help a little to remember that certain people - those downstairs probably included - would not consider either of us entirely sane for believing in a place like this. 

“Did you ever want to just … move in here?” I asked, with an awkward wave of my hand around the room. “I mean … like you said, it’s a safe place. The only safe place sometimes, it feels like. Do you ever just want to … stay?”

As I talked, I could imagine all too clearly how she might want to. Since she was dying, a place where time did not obey its usual rules might call to her even more than it did to me. When she left this room, the cancer would go back to eating away at her. She’d have to give up everything she enjoyed: long walks, rich food, even crafting once she could no longer thread a needle. Frank would organize an online schedule for us all to take turns bringing her groceries. She would die comfortable, but vacant, with too many painkillers in her system to recognize any of our faces.

I couldn’t tell whether she was thinking any of the same things. All I know is that when she answered, her face was as calm and confident as I had ever seen it.

“No, dear,” she said. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you still get hungry, for one thing.”

“Oh.” That matter-of-tact answer made me suspect that, at one point in her life, she might have actually tried it. 

“Also, I’ve been wondering all my life how this place could have happened, and my best guess is that it must be a miracle. Miracles,” she fixed her bright blue-gray eyes on me with something almost like a challenge, “Aren’t meant to hide away in. They’re meant to be shared.”

“A miracle … ” I repeated, halfway between awe and dismay. “Wait - shared? You mean with - ” I tipped my head in the direction of the door, outside of which were the stairs that led to Melissa, Frank and Josh in the living room.

“With your brothers and sister, yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”

Not even the implication that all four of us were equally her children made me feel any less like a bristling porcupine. 

“But - they’ll never believe me!” I sputtered. “They didn’t back then, so why would they now? They already think there’s something wrong with me. If I come after them with something like this, I … I don’t even know what they’d do! They never wanted me in this family - all these years, they never even tried to get to know me - ”

“There is nothing wrong with you. No one here believes that.” Kirsten’s voice was quiet, but very stern, as she interrupted my tirade. “And as for trying, when was the last time you tried to get to know them?”

That silenced me at once.

The shameful truth was that I couldn’t remember the last time I had tried to get close to the others. I never learned to take rejection well; one setback is enough to set all my metaphorical quills on edge. I must have given up soon after moving in with them. If our not feeling like a real family was partly their fault, it was also partly mine. 

Besides, I realized, I might be wrong about that too. Earlier today, hadn’t Josh defended me from Melissa’s comment about me being too single for such a big house? Hadn’t Melissa apologized? And hadn’t Frank done his best to find a solution that was fair to all of us?

“You’re right.” I blushed and lowered my head. “I should try … I will try.”

“That’s all I can ask.” 

Kirsten gripped the arms of the chair and began rising carefully to her feet, signaling quite clearly even to me that she was worn out and wanted to end this conversation. I could have sat talking to her for hours - if you could call them hours in this timeless place - just so I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her again, but I knew how selfish that would be.

I did, however, have one more question.

“Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Dying, you mean?” She snorted. “Of course!”

“Really? … You don’t seem scared.”

“I don’t like to worry all of you.” She leaned on my arm as we shuffled towards the door, her thin hand holding on with surprising strength. “Also, I’m curious about what happens next. I like to think of Rudy standing by the Pearly Gates, with a full itinerary of sights.” 

I smiled, because that sounded so like him. 

“And if I’m wrong and nothing happens,” she added with characteristic common sense, “At least I’ll never have to find out.”

Just as we reached the door, she squeezed my arm even tighter and looked up at me with sudden intensity, stopping me in mid-step. “One more thing,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Tell your sister and your brothers that I love them.” Her eyes glittered. “And tell yourself the same. I wish I’d said it more often.”

“You show it all the time,” I said. “But - yes, of course, and - Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you too.”

I opened the door for us both.

One moment she was holding on to me, the next she was gone.

I’d thought I was all cried out for the night, but I wasn’t. All the better; these tears barely hurt at all.

/

My siblings, of course, were still sitting in the downstairs living room. From their perspective, I must have left the room for only a few moments, just long enough to splash water on my face and take a few deep breaths. 

Standing in the doorframe in the moment before they spotted me, it struck me how old they looked. They had always been older than me, but this was different. The men’s hair was turning from salt-and-pepper to plain salt, and Melissa’s was such a bright gold, I guessed that she dyed it. Their skin was beginning to have that crepe-paper look. All three of them were on their phones, scrolling and frowning, avoiding each other’s eyes. It felt like such a short time since we had been children. In Kirsten’s eyes, no doubt we still were.

I stepped forward.

“Are you okay?” Josh pocketed his phone and came towards me, his blue-gray eyes wide with concern. 

“I’m, uh … better, thanks.” I blinked away the last few tears and cleared my throat. “I need to tell you something.”

He nodded, stepped back and waved a hand for me to go ahead. All three of them looked up with polite, expectant faces. It felt like being a teenager again and having to give a presentation in class, only more so. I wished I had stayed upstairs at least long enough to prepare a speech.

I turned to Melissa first, who I had always thought disliked me the most, just to get it over with. “You’re right,” I said, causing her to raise her eyebrows. “This house is too big for one person … and in some ways, I can see how it would make sense to sell it,” turning to Frank, who nodded in a gratified way and opened his mouth as if to jump right into a planning session. I flung up my hands just in time, however, and no one interrupted.

“It’s just … this house, it’s … it’s more than a piece of real estate,” I went on in my incoherent way. “It’s the only home I can really remember. It’s where Kir - it’s where Mom and Dad took care of us, and … and it’s where we could always come back when we needed to. I don’t … I don’t see why it can’t still be like that. I think … we could all use a place to come back to, sometimes. I know it’s not where we live, most of the year anyway, but this is still our home, and I … I want to keep it. For all of us.”

This was the most personal thing I had said to them in years. I might as well have come downstairs in my underwear. I waited for Melissa to roll her eyes, or Frank to keep arguing, or Josh to look away in quiet second-hand embarrassment. I waited.

“Huh,” said Frank, squinting at me over the top of his glasses. “That’s interesting.”

I braced myself for whatever came next.

“What’s interesting?” Josh asked warily. 

“That the adopted kid takes after Mom the most.” Frank smiled. “Doesn’t she?”

“I know what you mean,” Melissa admitted in a surprisingly small voice. “I always used to wonder where she went to find that … whatever it was … peace, I guess? It made me so jealous.”

“Me too.” Josh shared a rueful smile with her. “Wish I could go there.”

In that moment, the same current I had sensed when Kirsten had told me I was home went buzzing through my hands. Without thinking about it, I knew exactly what to do. I sat down on the sofa between Josh and Melissa and put a hand on each of their arms, and Josh - as if by instinct - reached over to nudge Frank. The current flowed between the four of us at once.

“You’ll find it,” I said to my family.

I believed it then, and I still do. 

Whoever you are, reading this, may you find it too.

There’s a room in your house that exists outside of normal time. No one can bother you because no time passes between you going in and coming out no matter how long you’re there. Until one day someone is already there.

[hearts4mica]

I’m the perfect pretty girl.

Platonic! & Yandere! Batfam x Popular! Reader

Masterlist!

_________________________________________________

“Oh wow!”

_________________________________________________

“My name is [name] Wayne and not to be arrogant or anything but i’m the perfect example of a ‘perfect pretty girl’. And im not trying to be a jerk. Im just stating a fact!”

And you were not lying. Being the middle child of the family, the first born daughter of Bruce Wayne of course you were gonna be beautiful.

You were walking in the streets when a random dude appeared infront of you.

“Hey wanna go out sometime?” He said excitedly you had never seen him in your entire life.

Now if you were a normal pretty girl you would have said something like. “How about you go to a pig farm and kiss one of them?”

But of course you wouldn’t say that after all you were a role model. Gotham’s Princess. That’s what the media called you.

Instead you just said: “Oh im sorry i have to study for a test tomorrow!” He quickly apologised, wished you luck on your test and left quickly.

So not only i’m beautiful on the outside, i’m also beautiful on the inside!

That’s how you deal with boys!

_________________________________________________

At important events you always had to be there your fans would go crazy with speculations of why you weren’t there!

“Maybe she’s sick?!”

“Maybe she escaped the country with a random guy she just met-!” “No! She would never do that!”

“Maybe she died!” “Shut up!”

You had to make a video of the reason you didn’t go. Since that day Bruce didn’t allow you to not go to important events anymore!

_________________________________________________

It was another day after school and you wanted to walk home to appreaciate beautiful Gotham’s view! Not really- you just wanted to stay away from your brothers for a while.

With them being superheroes and you being the most known teen in the whole country! Of course you had stalkers!

And well that walk home definitely did not go well. Some guys tried kidnapping you! Thankfully Nightwing was there to save the day! What a nice hero.

And upon hearing that Bruce decided you were not allowed to go anywhere alone!

So unfair but well you could not say anything against it.

Now even in school you had to eat with Tim or Damian! That’s so embarrassing! Infront of your fans!

_________________________________________________

Tim was grabbing his books on his locker waiting for the bell to ring to start going to his next class until his friend appeared out of nowhere.

“Hey Timdudebestfriendever! How about you the introduce me to your gorgeous sister? Think about it we could be brother’s in law!”

“Ew no, you with my sister? Never happening.” Tim slammed his locker shut and left. That idiot with his sister? No! He doesn’t deserve you!

You don’t even need a relationship! You’re too you g for that! (You’re older than him).

_________________________________________________

Damian loves painting you on his art. It’s his favorite hobby. Spending time with his sister!

Just the two of you without a care in the world!

It’s just perfect.You’re just perfect

At this point he could just open a museum where he could display only his art about you and it would definitely be profitable. Maybe even your fans from everywhere would send their art to the museum.

Obviously Damian wouldn’t display it since it doesn’t capture your beauty the way his art does.

_________________________________________________

Bruce never really liked galas. Well that was until his baby daughter went with him.

He really loved all his children he loved bonding with them. And galas was the perfect way to bond with you!

Usually none of the Wayne kids wanted to go to the Galas. Well you also didn’t want to attend but it’s okay since you’re perfect you can’t make your fans sad!

_________________________________________________

Dick liked doing anything you wanted to do

Oh you wanted to go to your favourites artists concert? He already bought them! And the meet and greet after the concert!

You wanted to go the next day to the other part of the world just to go shopping? He was already a step ahead and bought the whole plane for just you and him!

_________________________________________________

Jason liked spending time with you in silence

You were enjoying a sunny day at Gotham’s park trying to relax but the people just wouldn’t leave you alone!

“Hey gorgeous me and you would make great music together” he smelled like he was a corpse in decomposition.

‘You know what would make great music with you? Deodorant. Do you know it helps you smell better you disgusting pig!’ That’s what you would have said but you were perfect in everyone’s eyes. “Oh sorry! Im not allowed to date anyone!” That was the perfect answer.

Jason sat beside you on the bench and just silently glared at the guy so he quickly left. Still there were lots of people staring at you two.

You just sat down quietly without a care in the world.

_________________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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Requests are open!

_________________________________________________

[holyblonded]

‘merica baby | stargirl

pairings: uswnt x teen!reader

summary: your first camp with the senior team

warnings: estrella and sonnet 😭

notes: estrella menacing on a different continent alert 🗣️🗣️

The sharp thud of your foot striking the ball echoes through the training ground, followed by the unmistakable snap of the net rippling as the ball rockets into the bottom corner.

“Again. Top left this time,” the assistant coach calls, tossing another ball into your path.

You barely break stride, your body moving on instinct. A sharp touch to control, a quick glance, and then, boom. Another strike, that lands right into the left corner of the goal.

From across the field, a group of veterans watches you closely.

“Damn,” Kelley mutters, arms crossed as she observes the drill. “She’s got a cannon on her.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, eyebrows raised slightly. “And she’s hitting those. Not just power, placement too.”

Megan lets out a low whistle. “Kid’s a sniper.”

“Didn’t she leave the Spanish youth team?” Sonnett asks, tilting her head. “Like, just dipped?”

“Yeah,” Alex nods. “There was some shady stuff going on with a coach, and she called them out. Said she’d never play for them again.”

That gets some approving nods from the group.

“Takes guts,” Megan says, watching as you send another shot flying into the top bins like it’s nothing. “Especially at her age. It’s admirable.”

“Wonder what she’s like?” Sonnett muses. “She’s been all business since she got here. Intense.”

Right on cue, Tobin and Christen stroll over, looking smug.

“Oh, she’s funny,” Tobin says casually.

The vets turn to them, eyebrows raised.

“You met her?” Alex asks.

Christen grins. “Yeah. We ran into her when she landed. Sweet kid. A bit mischievous.”

“Mischievous?” Kelley repeats, intrigued.

Tobin nods, smirking. “Cute too. We like her.”

With a shared glance, the veterans decide it’s time to introduce themselves properly.

As you line up another shot, you hear footsteps approaching. You glance up to see Megan, Alex, Kelley, and Sonnett standing nearby, watching you with amused expressions.

Megan gestures toward the goal. “You trying to break the net, or…?”

You wipe your face with the sleeve of your training top and shrug. “Just making sure it knows who’s in charge.”

Sonnett snickers. “I like her already.”

Alex steps forward, offering her hand. “We just wanted to come say hi. Welcome to the team, Y/n.”

You shake her hand, glancing at the others as they introduce themselves. “I go by Estrella.”

Megan grins. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Tobin and Christen said you’re funny,” Kelley says, nudging you playfully. “You hiding that from us?”

A slow smirk tugs at your lips. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just waiting for the perfect moment.”

Megan throws her head back laughing. “Oh, she’s good.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, clapping you on the shoulder. “I think you’re gonna fit in just fine, kid.”

“I’m fine, Ale. I promise to call you before I head to training tomorrow. Love you, bye.”

You set the phone down, hoping to catch some shut eye, but as soon as you flip over in your bed you are met with the eyes of Emily Sonnet. Instead of screaming you stare back oddly.

“Is this is what it’s going to be like in America?” You questioned allowed.

Emily laughed off your comment and held out a hand, as if she had just made the most normal entrance in the world. “Welcome to the USWNT, rookie. You’re mine now.”

You blinked. “I—what?”

Sonnett grinned. “We’re pranking the team. Right now. Get up.”

Before you could protest, she yanked you out of bed, shoving a roll of toilet paper into your hands. “We have about an hour before anyone starts waking up. Let’s make it count.”

And just like that, you were running down the hotel hallway with Emily, trying not to laugh too loudly as you worked your way through the rooms.

You both snuck into Kelley and Crystal’s room, careful not to wake them. Emily pulled out a Sharpie and drew an elegant mustache on Kelley’s face, while you gently placed a cup of water on the top of the slightly ajar bathroom door, ready to tip over as soon as someone went in.

Before leaving, you whispered to Emily, “Think they’ll murder us in the morning?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she whispered back.

The next on the list were Lindsey and Rose. The two were dead asleep, so you simply rearranged all their furniture to be slightly off. The lamp was upside down, their shoes were swapped, and Rose’s training gear was mysteriously replaced with an oversized hoodie labeled PROPERTY OF SONNET.

This time for the Mewis Sisters, you left a small Bluetooth speaker hidden under their bed, set to play an ominous whispering sound at random intervals.

You heard the sisters exclaims of confusion, making you and Emily snicker.

Finally, feeling victorious, you and Emily sprinted down the hall to your final target: Tobin and Christen’s room.

The plan was simple, flip their room inside out, maybe saran-wrap their door. But as soon as Emily reached for the handle, the door swung open on its own.

Tobin and Christen stood there, arms crossed.

You froze mid-step. Emily, to her credit, at least tried to play it cool. “Oh, hey, guys! Crazy seeing you here.”

Tobin raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Uh…” You glanced at Emily. She was no help, suddenly very invested in the carpet pattern.

Christen sighed. “Emily, go back to your room.”

Emily grinned, clapped you on the shoulder, and whispered, “Good luck, kid,” before disappearing down the hall.

You gulped. Tobin turned to you, shaking her head. “You’re coming with us.”

You frowned. “Where exactly am I—”

“You’re sleeping in Alex’s room tonight,” Christen interrupted, already texting. “You clearly need better supervision. I don’t even know how you and Emily got paired together.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious? It was Emily’s idea!”

Tobin smirked. “And you went along with it.”

Minutes later, you found yourself standing in Alex Morgan’s room, rubbing the back of your neck as she tried to look stern—but you could tell she was holding back a smile.

“So,” Alex sighed, arms crossed. “You and Sonnett decided to prank half the team on your first night?”

You shrugged, a smirk growing on your face. “Technically, she decided. I just… assisted.”

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose but finally chuckled. “Alright, troublemaker, go to bed. I expect you bright and early at breakfast.”

“You know, you remind me of my mami. Your names are similar and you have the same disappointed looks on your face.”

You crawled into the spare bed, grinning slightly. Sure, you got caught and you got sentenced to Alex’s Supervision Jail, but it was better than your youth team days.

You should’ve known that waking up to Emily Sonnett looming over you at six in the morning meant trouble.

“Rise and shine, partner in crime,” she whispered, grinning like a madwoman.

You groaned and rolled over, burying your face in your pillow. “Sonnett, it’s six. In the morning.”

“Exactly. Prime time for pranking. Now get up, we’re going big at breakfast.”

Your eyes snapped open in interest as you squinted at her. “Define big.”

Emily’s grin widened. “I’m talking Hall of Fame-level pranking. Something they’ll talk about for years.”

You sat up, now fully intrigued. “I’m listening.”

She held up a small bag of sugar packets. Or what should have been sugar packets.

“That’s salt,” you deadpanned.

Emily nodded proudly. “Indeed, it is.”

It was then that you knew today was going to be amazing.

The team had barely started rolling into the dining hall when you and Emily made your move. Some players were still half-asleep—Lindsey had bedhead, Sam was blinking blearily at her cereal, and Rose was sitting next to her, dead-eyed, barely functioning.

Perfect. You took a deep breath, then dramatically launched yourself onto the floor like you’d just been hit by a freight train.

“MY LEG!” you howled, clutching your shin like you’d been mortally wounded.

Chaos. Immediate chaos.

Crystal Dunn jumped up so fast she nearly flipped her chair. “Oh my God, are you okay?!”

Kelley almost choked on her coffee.

Rose, still groggy, blinked at you in confusion. “Did… did you just fall on your own?”

Meanwhile, behind the distraction, Emily was working her magic.

She snuck behind the food counter, swapping out all the sugar in the coffee station with salt. Then, she grabbed the last plate of pancakes, lifted the top one, and doused the bottom layer with extra-spicy hot sauce before neatly stacking them back.

Her final masterpiece? Swiping Megan Rapinoe’s phone and changing the autocorrect settings so that every time she typed yes, it autocorrected to I love Sonnett and Estrella.

Crystal was now kneeling beside you, a hand on your shin. “Where does it hurt?” You blinked. Sat up. Stretched your leg.

“Never mind,” you said brightly. “I’m good.”

The room fell into silence.

Crystal blinked at you.

Kelley groaned. “This is what happens when we let Sonnett befriend the rookies.”

The first victim: Lindsey Horan.

She took a long sip of her coffee, expecting sweet, comforting caffeine. Instead…

“WHAT THE—” She spat it back into her cup so aggressively that it splashed onto her sleeve.

“WHO DID THIS? WHO REPLACED THE SUGAR WITH SALT?!”

Emily and you kept your heads down, shoveling food into your mouths like innocent angels.

Then Megan Rapinoe took a bite of her pancakes and immediately contorted her face.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL F—”

She lunged for her water, chugging it in record time while frantically fanning her mouth.

“WHO DID THIS?!” she wheezed.

Emily covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. You could barely hold it together.

Then came Kelley O’Hara. She picked up her phone, started typing, then frowned.

“…I love Sonnett and Estrella?” she read out loud, confused.

Her head snapped up.

Emily lost it. She was laughing so hard she nearly fell off her chair. Now, the entire room was onto you.

Tobin stood with her arms crossed. “You two are menaces.”

Christen sighed, rubbing her temples. “We should’ve kept her in our room last night.”

Alex, ever the responsible adult, stood up. “Alright, you know the rule. If you pull off this big of a prank, you pay for it.”

Emily elbowed you. “This is where she makes us run.”

Kelley, still trying to fix her phone, smirked. “Oh, you bet they’re running.”

And that’s how you and Emily found yourselves running endless laps around the training pitch while the entire team enjoyed their breakfast.

Some of the devils even cheered when you passed.

“Was it worth it?” Emily huffed beside you.

You glanced at the dining hall window, where Megan was still chugging water, Lindsey was glaring at her salty coffee, and Kelley was angrily texting while her phone kept auto-correcting.

You grinned. “No doubt, man.”

[witerh]

To have. To hold. To breed. || husband re: vendetta!leon

NSFW!

warnings: fluff, soft/dom, reader!housewife, kisses, on the table, pussy eating, hole inspection, fingering, mating prees, deep fuck, ovulation, impreg, aftercare

notes: i admired asmr and my imagination was not enough to come up with another name, lmao (my one of the drabbles on dirty stories with leon for women's day, other drabbles can be seen on my ao3)

rating: mature

summary: leon step through the front door, he accosted by his woman. the smell of your cooking, the sound of your moving about in the kitchen. he have no choice but to follow his senses. when he sees you, all sweet and lush and prettied up for him, every ounce of tiredness in his body fades and the only thing on his mind becomes...

It's already sparkling outside, darkness fills the horizon and the noise and smell of cooking fills your home. You were standing at the stove, preparing dinner in the form of chicken and a side dish.

The muffled roar of a motorcycle distracts you, because most likely…

It is your husband coming home from work.

Leon’s life as a government agent was full of danger and chaos — his missions took him to the darkest corners of the world, and it often felt like he was married to his job, not to you.

The traumas were already in his brain dented with nightmares and memories as if for the first time. Every mission weighs on Leon more than the last. He hasn’t been the same since Raccoon City, and every year seems to put more strain on him than the last.He’s getting older now. His line of work has never given him the opportunity to settle down and start a family — not that any girl would want a guy who drunk himself half to death.

But you are like someone else and despite the obstacles of his work you were able to become something more than friends.Now you and Leon have been together for many years, not counting the year of your marriage. There were hard times and pleasant things, but you always got through it together.

He tries to spend more time with you, to be closer and more open, to communicate more with friends and acquaintances. This attempt to get rid of the burden of the past helps.

The smile has begun to appear on his face much more often when he is in your pleasant and cozy company. He is already on the mend and may be able to get rid of his nightmares.

Thanks to the psychologist.

Leon was coming home from work after hours of nonstop reports and paperwork, the younger recruits dumping all of their mess onto the old man. He fiddled with his keys before opening the front door to his house, huffing to himself as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.He quickly stripped off his jacket, hanging it up before going further into the not quiet house. All faded away as he saw his precious little wife cooking on the kitchen; this gorgeous view from the back along with a fitted apron and a cute bow at the back, this hand stirring something (which he is always sure of it) delicious in a frying pan.

Wrinkles appeared on his handsome face when he smiled and you immediately noticed his steps.

Familiar arms wrapped around your waist, his broad chest pressed against your back while he inhaled your scent against your neck. “Well aren’t you a beauty standing at the stove… beautiful as a picture for me”, he whispers into the crook of your neck.

“Hey, Leon”, he doesn’t see your smile but you are very happy to see him. You turned your head towards him to catch a glimpse of him melting in your presence. “You should take a shower and then you can hug as much as you want.”

“I know I’m all dirty, but let me hold you for a moment.” He breathes deeply and fully. “I just need my girl in my arms.”

But despite your words, he doesn’t leave you, just sighs deeply and hums. Finally, he can relax from all this paperwork.

“I missed you, princess”, he surrenders in your arms, his shoulder muscles relaxing. “The work was hard, I had to take on all the work myself… These recruits can’t be relied upon.”

“All this time I could only think about how I would return home to my sweet wife.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, swear on my heart”, he confesses to you. “I knew you’d be here, beautiful, sweet smelling, with something on the table to fill my belly. Remind me why I work so hard…”

He falls silent again, closes his eyes and breathes calmly while you work over the stove. But something catches his attention, causing him to open his eyes and move his head off your shoulder, but not pull away from your back. He tilted his head to the side, and damn, a smile appeared on his lips at the sight before his eyes. His eyes were already sparkling with joy and it seemed like the fatigue had instantly fallen from his shoulders.

“Hold on now, what is this?” He laughs deeply, grinning toothily. “You’re already trying to push your fat ass against my cock, like if you’re hungry for it… Are you desperate yet, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you bites bottom lip and your back arches slightly. You’re sure he’s noticed it too. “Yes, I am. I need you so much, Le—…”

“Yeah?” he asks again, interrupting you mid-sentence and you were left with your mouth open in bewilderment. “Here’s how… I need to see myself make sure my sweet wife needs «help» as much as she says.”

He pulled away from you, turned and looked around the table set: lace tablecloth with plates and forks and this is for you both this evening. You always set the table for your dinner or breakfast. Everything has to be perfect, right?

“Every night you set this table so pretty, even when it’s just you and me sitting at it.” he moans in pleasure looking at all this beauty. “As much as I want to ruin that, I need something to lay you down on.”

He admired and still admires this, that you bring everything to perfection, but now it interferes a little with his plans. He pushed the plates away with his hand, making a dull thud as the dishes smashed against each other, causing you to look back at the sound.

At one point he grabs your hand and gently pushes you onto the edge of the table that he cleared especially for you. “Mhmm… There you go.” he guides you, helping you to sit more comfortably. “Lie down right here, precious.”

“Keep your legs over this table, push your butt against edge…” He nods, watching as you try to do as he asks. “There you go, good girl…”

“Now spread those pretty thighs open.”You spread your legs, looking puzzled at Leon and his face as he examines what’s under the apron. And you’re there without panties: as strange as it may seem, you were already wet. That's nature.

“Look at this delicious little pussy,” he notices teasingly, leaning closer to your core. “You’re already hungry for it, aren’t you?

”His breath touched your sensitive skin and it was pleasant — you could admit it but with great defeat. If only you knew that you had already lost...

“Oh!” you sigh and blush at his words. You can’t just give in to your husband and tell him that you missed him all day. “What are you talking about?…”

“You know what am i talking about right now. It’s all juices on your thighs… they flow down right on your ass on…” he notices, looking up at your face and then back between your legs. “Let me give my hands under knees to open you up.”

You didn’t object, you just spread your legs even more for him to make it easier. Your fingers tightened on the edge of the table, your knuckles even turned white.

His strong hands grabbed you under the knee, the other placed on his shoulder as he brought his face closer to your pussy. His hot breath fanned over your lower lips.

“God damn, sweetheart… she’s so pretty that I just wanna…”

Lips pressed against your pussy, wrapping them around your clit, kissing and licking, giving and encouraging attention to this pearl. He heard your surprised cry with pleasure and pushed him to go further, but your legs reflexively wanted to squeeze together, to which he looked up at you.It was hard to resist locking his legs together and he chuckled because of it.

“Ohh… Nah-huh, baby, they stay open for as long as I want it be,” He pouts weakly, pretending to be offended. “Don’t pretend you don’t want it.”

“Don’t pretend you just accidentally forgot to put on panties this morning.”

“Damn, you found me out,” you laughed. “Okay, I won't. Just don't stop, okay?”

He nods with satisfaction at your answer. “Mhmm, good. So keep those gorgeous thighs open for me…”

The tongue flicks at your clit, sucking and lightly touching it with his lips, but quickly replacing the pain with his lips. He changed and played with the clit, using his tongue first and then his lips, making you go crazy.

He explores your vagina, giving it his time and attention, for which you are so grateful to him. He is already skilled at this and it is not difficult for him to go down a little lower… and, oh, your humming encourage him as his tongue penetrates you, so full of your juices.

Leon enjoys your excited sighs, even a little proud that he can satisfy his little wife like this.The tip of the nose does not forget to replace his lips and presses enough while he works a little lower and wets his bristles which gently tickles you.

“Fuck, you are just flowing,” he is breathing heavily. “…I swear I can do this all day… all night.”

“Oh my God, Leon”, you grip his hair tightly, guiding him with a strong grip. “I feel so go-o-od… Please don’t stop..”

“You like it, huh?” he smiles weakly and does not resist your fingers, allowing herself to be your puppet. “Of course you like it when I run my tongue over your needy clit…”

Based on his words, he lifts his head and again his tongue attacks your clit, circling it with the tip and lubricating it with warm saliva. From your clit he moves down again, painfully slowly, making your body shudder with need.

“Fuck, I love the way your pussy looks after I run my tongue all over it,” He moves his face away a couple of centimeters to see what he has done to you. “…What if I just run my thumb over this littlе clit just like…”

And your “ahh!” reaction makes him laugh deeply and keep his thumb pinched a little longer for fun. “Tha-at’s, baby…”

His hands were getting tired of holding your hips, and as much as he wanted to explore you with his tongue, he had to use his fingers to do it. You don't mind, do you?

“Put your hands behind your knees, keep your legs open for your husband, sweetheart,” he still leaves your pussy unattended in order to remove his hands from under your knees. “so that he could carefully these holes looking over…”

“Yes…” you nod and as quickly as possible replace his strong grip with your weaker one.

Pulling his face away a little, his fingers came into play. His index finger began to circle around your vagina, collecting all your moisture and his saliva. “This little pussy looks so tight…”

“It doesn’t matter how many times I fuck her, right?” he raises an eyebrow at you and then at your pussy before carefully starting to enter inside. “She always hugs me, good and tight.”

“Damn.. yea-ah,” You grit your teeth, feeling all the moisture surrounding his long finger. “She was made for you.”

“Ohhh, look how it flows…” He draws your and his attention to this, already noticing how the juices have moved to his knuckles. “Is this pussy really desperate for my cock, sweetheart?”

“That’s little hole beg me to hurry up and come inside?” At his next tease, you nod desperately, asking for the little he can do for you: “Please don’t stop looking me over.. and hurry up, I want your dick.”

“Okay, baby, okay. I’m not giving you dick yet, i’m don’t stop looking you over.” he comforts you, running his hand over your cheek. “I have to make sure my sweet wife is okay, right?”

“Yes, you are right, Leon,” You nod, looking at him and agreeing, because he can’t leave his wife desperate and needy on their kitchen table.

“Safe and ready to breed up, nice and full…” he ponders, looking again at your dripping pussy. “I can give you something… how about the finger?”

“The finger?” you ask him again with interest.

“Maybe one of your thumbs will help cool this hot pussy down a little?” he looks up at your face and asks you because he wants you to enjoy. “Howdo you think?”

“Yes, I want your finger,”

“Let’s see…”

His finger penetrates into the hot place inside you, where it is so hot and wet. Your walls squeeze his knuckles so hard that he can only breathe deeply.

“Damn it, precious, did you follow all the rules for me?”

“Make sure nothing gets in that pussy until daddy gets in there…” he praises, his finger begins to pump inside you, starting at a slow pace and touching your vulnerable spots so that you bend over on this edge of the table. “No wonder you’re so eager for it.”

“Uh-huh, I was only waiting for you…” you hum with ragged breaths as he tortures you with this tempo and those blue eyes right on yours. “I need you.”

“You are here alone, in this house, all day, and you have nothing to feed on except thoughts and memories”, he assumes and now gives you what you wanted all day while he was not in your cozy corner. He is already trying to correct your situation with his finger. “I guess it’s clear now why you crave my dick every time I step foot in the door everyday…”

The pace suddenly quickened, your juices flowing down your thighs and further down to your ass cheeks. His face leans closer and he kisses the tip of your nose, blowing his hot breath on your hot face: “Damn, you’re too wet today, baby.”

“Just look at your ass… it’s all wet too.” he thoughts and pulls away from your face still continuously stretching you before stopping and returning her gaze to you. “Speaking of…”

He pulls his finger out with a wet pop and he immediately hears your whine through clenched teeth. The emptiness inside you didn’t suit you at all. “Hush, hush, hush, don’t cry, sweetie. Daddy will be inside you again soon.”

“You have one more hole I need to check on,” he consoles you with assured words. “Even if I don’t use it today, it’s my husband’s responsibility to make sure, that his wife is in top shape… and that includes her tight little ass.”

You choked. Your walls gripped him tightly and he sighed heavily. He hasn’t fucked you in the ass for a long time, so now you’re squeezing him like a vice.

“Fuck… looks like this cute little hole is hungry too,” He puffs and moves his finger back and forth. “I might have to make an effort to use it more often… to make sure she gets as much love as your little pussy.”

The finger began to move more actively inside your hole, to stretch you and tease you enough to hear “aghh” of yours in response.

“Your juices are everywhere. Atta girl.” he remarks with a cheerful tone, looking at how your pussy is oozing more and more. “On me, on you, on the tablecloth.”

A light trickle of your arousal flows right down your ass and he enjoys watching it. So wonderful. But he had to let your holes rest for a moment because his patience was running out.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he announces to you, hearing your whining, because he left you empty. “I need in.”

His fingers unfasten his belt with a loud thud, followed by his fly. His trousers are slightly below his knees. He bares his cock, grabbing the base and using his fist to stroke himself a couple of times, even though precum has already appeared on the tip.

“Are you ready, honey?” he asks to which you nod and say the cherished “yes”. He accepts your answer and, gripping the base, enters you with a heavy sigh.

He allow himself to run the tip of his cock over your wet folds, down and up, and then along before gently entering. He sighs feeling you squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck… that’s it, honey, I’ve got your legs.” With a strong grip, he replaces your hands and does not allow you to twitch. “Mhmm… thank you for holding on to them for such a long time.”

“Time to do all the work for daddy”, he sighs. “Just let me pull your knees up by your ears and stick this dick deep…”

He does as he said, pinning your knees between the table and his strong hands to increase the pace inside you.

“Fuck, that’s it baby, you can take it”, he praises you and strokes your hair with his free hand tenderly despite his careless thrusts. “Do you like it when I’m so deep inside you?”

“Yes, yes, I like it…” moan. and another moan flew from your lips as you looked at him through your eyelashes. “Don’t stop…”

“I didn’t mean that, darling”, he grins at you, baring his teeth in a toothy grin. “Tell daddy he owns you, baby,” sigh “Tell daddy that you belong to him,” sigh “Tell daddy that your little holes are meant for him and him alone.”

“You own me, I belong to you, all my holes are meant for you and only for you”, you gasp and swallow hard as you try to think. “This is just for you.”

“I never get tired of hearing this”, he moves his hand lower and grabs your wrists, trapping them in “shackles” from his strong grip. “But your body is fucking happy to let me know that.”

His hips snap against yours as he claims you on the kitchen table. The room filled with the obscene sounds you both made in the haze of lust.

His head dropped down and he began kissing your neck, watching as your head fell back and your eyes closed as he thrust especially deep.

“Shh”, he sighs between kisses on your skin. “Don’t forget to breathe.”He licks your full skin, wrapping his lips around it and leaving a light hickey on your skin before pulling away again and watching his mark before looking back down at your connection. Your cheeks are red.

“Mhmh… clings to my cock every time I pull it out, covering everywhere with juices”, he notices with a grin, watching how your pussy absolutely doesn’t want to let him go from her grip. Just like you. “It’s fucking impossible to just get out of you. Atta girl.”

A small growl escaped his lips as you hugged him tighter due to his teasing. You panted beneath him, chest rising and falling. He knocks hoarse moans out of your throat.

“Please, don’t stop, Leon..!” you hiccup, your slick hips jerking in response, creating a pleasant friction between you both. “You won’t pull it out when you cum, right?”

“Please, don’t pull it out!”

“Hush, darling. Don’t worry, don’t cry. Daddy won’t pulling out.” he consoles between kisses. “You forgot that I have access to the calendar on your phone too…”

He leans closer, lowering his voice: “I know you’re ovulating.”

“Ahh?!” you sigh and get annoyed because he hid it and now he uses it as a tease. He pulls away with a laugh, hearing your gasps and grinning toothily.

“I’m going to impregnate that pussy, baby”, he promises, almost putting his hand on his heart. “I gonna fill you up so that in a few months you will be bare and pregnant in this kitchen… with proof of my love for you growing in this pretty little belly…”

His promise hangs in the air and you, knowing his tenacity to follow through, already know what he will actually do. But you don't mind. You've long dreamed of children, of that family from glossy magazines or movies..."

“Yes... get me pregnant Leon, please.... I need in this so-o-o ba-a-ad-d...”

you're pulling the letters and it's a fat hint that you're so desperate in your own words. You really need that pregnant belly. With the thought of pregnancy, your walls contracted around his cock as if by reflex and he sighed with sensitivity.

“I feel you tightening around me, darling,” he notices. “Is my dick rubbing against your precious place?”

“Mh-mhmm,” you nod to him in mute agreement. “Is that so, precious?” he raised an eyebrow though he knew it was true. He just wanted to hear your words, not your mooing. “Use your words.”

To accurately get his point across he clicks his hips against yours, reaching almost to the cervix. He didn't hurt you, but it made you shudder.

“Y-yes... you're rubbing against my place...!”

“Let me play with this soaked clit,” he offers you teasingly, releasing your hands from his grip to pay attention to your pearl. “Let’s see how long it takes you to …—”

“That's what you need to cum, isn't it?" It was the last straw for your patience: your back arched, your thighs clenched desperately as you trembled and squirted onto him. You finally got your discharge for that excruciatingly long evening of combined teasing and research. You really walked a thin tightrope, at the risk of getting lost in your own hands of pleasure with your husband (as it happened).

“Leon!” you moan his name with stars in your eyes and a dryness in your mouth. You need air and he slowed down so that his sweet wife wouldn't suffocate under him.

“Fuck..” he clenches his teeth. “You’re still fucking clinging me.”

He could feel your spasms inside, the way your walls desperately hugged his cock as you came on top of him.

"I can't help it, honey", you exhale and cool down under the symphony of his thrusts, you're getting aroused again.

“Milk all the cum out of me”, he orders softly. “Make me make you have a baby!” He needed you as much as if he were the last man in the desert and you were an oasis.

The thrusts became uncontrollable, a growl escaping his lips.

Leon enjoyed these just as much as you did; he needed to be buried inside you to death, he wanted to feel your squeezing walls around him forever. Those dirty thoughts drove him to orgasm.

One more push and he exploded inside you, making another push.... a push, and one more push. The force was exhausted, but the power of wanting to make your family with baby (or even two) more was stronger. He would be glad to see everyone.

“Nah-huh, don’t move”, he mumbles to you, noticing your movements. “I need to fill you with cum deep…”

In a couple minutes that seemed like moments to both of you, he was able to catch his breath enough and freeze inside you to make sure every drop got inside of you. He brought his face closer to you and finally let your knees off his hands only to hug your face with the palms of his hands

“I’m going out, precious”, he whispers in your ear, allowing you to relax a little. “But don’t move, I’ll carry you to the bed, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t move.”

With a wet pop, he pulled his soft cock out of your depths and semen began to spurt out of you right onto the kitchen tablecloth. You rest in his arms as he lifts you up with ease and holds your knees and back, holding you close to him. Your arms wrap around his neck. When he carried you to bed, you lay there while he started looking for some napkins to take care of you. “Will there be a second round?”

“No, the second round will be later”, he laughs. “I’m going to run you a bath and then make you take a nap.”

“You know, I love it when my wife looks well-rested and well take careful.”

“Will you join me?” you asked him, tilting your head to the side.

“My hunger for food can wait, you know?" he laughs deeply running a napkin over your genitals "Of course I'll join." You just laughed tiredly and kissed his cheekbones, hugging him and bringing his face closer so that your breath burned each other faces.

"What do you wanna choose: bubbles or a bath bomb?" He is thinking and needs your help in choosing. "I want..." you think before you answer him: "both."

"Both? My spoiled girl..."

thanks for reading!

[faelynnupward]

ANYBODY who says we don’t need OSHA has never worked in a high risk environment.

I’m just going to say it: if you are a white collar cubicle jockey, shut the fuck up about workplace safety. Nobody cares about your entirely meritless and valueless opinion. Shut the fuck up. You’ve never risked your life or physical safety at work so your opinion about rules preventing harm and death in the workplace is worthless. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

If your shitty ass political opinions make our workplace less safe, we are going to come make your workplace less safe. A lot less safe.

[elryuse]

Pt. 9 Fuck Me Like U Mean It

BABEL'S CHAINS MASTERLIST : HERE

Your POV

Morning Possessiveness

The first thing you felt was warmth.

Soft, steady breathing tickled your skin.

Your eyes fluttered open, the dim morning light slipping through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room.

Karina.

Her face was nestled against your chest, her body pressed closely to yours, her arms locked tightly around you like a vice.

Her long hair cascaded over her pillow, strands lightly tickling your chin.

For a moment, you just stared.

You had never seen her like this before—completely at ease, vulnerable in her sleep, her usual guarded expression nowhere in sight.

The events of last night came flooding back.

The drunken call. The desperation in her voice. The way she dragged you into her room, kissing you with reckless abandon. The way she begged you not to leave.

Your heart pounded at the memory.

You had stayed.

And now, waking up beside her, you weren’t sure what came next.

You shifted slightly, trying to sit up—

But the moment you moved, Karina’s arms tightened around you.

A small, muffled growl vibrated against your chest.

“…Don’t.”

Her voice was hoarse, barely awake, but firm.

You stilled.

“…Karina?”

Her grip tightened.

“Stay.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the same desperation as last night.

She buried her face deeper against your chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

“I don’t care what time it is,” she mumbled sleepily. “Just… don’t go yet.”

Your heart ached.

You had never heard her sound so fragile before.

“…Alright,” you murmured, relaxing back onto the bed.

A content sigh left Karina’s lips as she snuggled closer, her body molding perfectly against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Just the sound of steady breathing.

The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest.

The way her warmth seeped into you, making it impossible to think about anything other than her.

Minutes stretched into an hour.

You weren’t sure when exactly Karina drifted back to sleep, but eventually, she stirred.

Her eyelashes fluttered slightly before her eyes cracked open.

She blinked up at you groggily, her expression still hazy with sleep.

“…You’re still here?”

You chuckled. “You wouldn’t let me leave.”

A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she buried her face back into your chest.

“…Shut up.”

You smirked, brushing a hand through her messy hair.

She let out a small, content sigh at the motion, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against your arm.

For a moment, it felt like this was normal.

Like this was something you did every morning.

Waking up beside her. Holding her like this.

But the reality of what had happened last night lingered between you both.

Eventually, Karina pulled back slightly, propping herself up on one elbow.

Her eyes met yours.

“…So,” she murmured. “What happens now?”

You swallowed hard.

That was the question, wasn’t it?

Last night, she had let down her walls.

But what about now?

Now that the morning had come—now that the alcohol had worn off—did she regret it?

“…Do you regret it?” you asked cautiously.

Karina’s gaze softened.

“…No.”

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt.

“But I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

She let out a small, bitter laugh.

“You know what.”

Your throat tightened.

She was scared of messing up again.

Scared of pushing you away.

Scared of the fact that she wants you, but doesn’t know how to handle it.

You reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I meant what I said last night,” you murmured. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Karina’s breath hitched.

Her eyes searched yours, as if trying to find any sign of hesitation.

But you weren’t hesitating.

Not anymore.

“…Okay,” she whispered.

It wasn’t a promise.

It wasn’t a confession.

But it was something.

A start

An Interruption Just as the moment lingered between you both, Karina’s phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand.

She groaned, rolling over to grab it.

You caught a glimpse of the caller ID—Winter.

Karina hesitated, then answered.

“…What do you want?”

Even half-asleep, she still managed to sound annoyed.

From the other end, Winter’s voice was unmistakable.

[“Ohhh, so he’s still there, huh?”]

Karina’s eyes widened slightly before she glared at the phone.

“…Shut up.”

You smirked, already knowing where this was going.

Winter’s teasing voice continued.

[“Did you confess your undying love yet, or are you still in denial?”]

Karina groaned, shoving a pillow over her face.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter.

“…I hate you,” Karina muttered into the pillow.

Winter’s laughter rang through the phone.

[“Nah, you love me. But not as much as him, apparently.”]

You watched as Karina’s face turned bright red.

“…I’m hanging up.”

[“Tell lover boy I said hi.”]

Click.

Karina groaned again, tossing her phone onto the bed.

You chuckled. “So… they know?”

She shot you a glare.

“Of course, they know. Winter saw how I looked at you ages ago.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“How did you look at me?”

Karina’s face turned even redder.

She rolled over, shoving her face into the pillow again.

“…Shut up.”

You couldn’t stop smiling.

She was adorable.

And despite everything, despite all the complications, one thing was clear—

Karina wanted you.

And this time, she wasn’t pretending otherwise.

An Uncertain Future

Eventually, you both got up.

Karina lazily dragged herself into the bathroom, muttering something about needing to wash the “stupid blush” off her face.

You took the time to check your phone.

A few messages from Ryujin.

Ryujin: Morning! So… how was last night? 😉 Ryujin: Don’t lie. I know you stayed over. Ryujin: Wanna come over today?

You smiled at the last message.

Ryujin, huh?

Things were about to get even more complicated.

Before you could respond, Karina reappeared, dressed in an oversized hoodie, her hair still damp from the shower.

She crossed her arms, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Who are you smiling at?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Jealous already?”

Karina huffed, looking away.

“…Shut up.”

You chuckled.

Yeah.

Things were definitely getting complicated.

But for the first time—

You weren’t afraid of it.

Because no matter what happened next…

Karina wasn’t letting go.

And neither were you.

The moment you reached ITZY’s apartment, you barely had time to knock before the door swung open.

“FINALLY!”

A blur of energy launched at you.

Yuna.

Before you could react, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist, almost knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Yuna—”

“You’re so late!” she whined, squeezing you even tighter. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?”

From inside, Ryujin’s voice called out lazily.

“He’s like ten minutes late, Yuna.”

“That’s too long!” Yuna shot back, still clinging to you like a koala.

You laughed, reaching up to ruffle her hair.

“Missed me that much?”

She pulled back, pouting. “Of course! You haven’t been hanging out with us lately. And don’t think I don’t know where you were last night.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“…What?”

Yuna grinned mischievously. “You were at aespa’s place, weren’t you?”

Before you could answer, Ryujin appeared at the doorway, arms crossed, smirking.

“More specifically, Karina’s room.”

Your stomach dropped.

“…You guys are stalking me now?”

Ryujin shrugged. “Please. Winter practically broadcasted it.”

Yuna gasped, dramatically covering her mouth. “So it’s true! You did spend the night with Karina?”

Your silence betrayed you.

Ryujin’s smirk widened. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

You groaned. “Can I at least come inside before the interrogation starts?”

Yuna giggled, finally letting go of you, and Ryujin stepped aside, motioning for you to enter.

“Welcome back, lover boy.”

Settling In, But Not Really

You had barely sat down on the couch when Yuna flopped beside you, resting her head on your shoulder.

Ryujin sat across from you, her sharp eyes locked onto you like she was analyzing your every move.

“So,” she started. “What really happened last night?”

You sighed, rubbing your temple.

“Nothing happened.”

Yuna gasped dramatically again. “LIES.”

Ryujin smirked. “Be honest. Did Karina confess? Did she kiss you?”

Your face burned.

That was way too specific.

“…Why do you care?”

Yuna nudged you with her elbow, grinning. “Because we care about you.”

Ryujin nodded. “Exactly. You’ve been so hung up on Karina for so long. And now, suddenly, you’re spending the night in her room? Something changed.”

You hesitated.

They weren’t wrong.

Something had changed.

Karina was opening up in a way she never had before. She was letting you see her vulnerability, her fears, her possessiveness.

And you—

You weren’t running away.

“…It’s complicated,” you finally said.

Ryujin raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t all relationships?”

Yuna pouted. “So you do like her?”

You hesitated.

Did you?

Of course, you did.

You always had.

But saying it out loud—

“…I don’t know,” you admitted.

Ryujin leaned back, watching you carefully.

“Let me guess,” she said. “You’re scared.”

Your jaw tensed.

She always saw through you so easily.

“…Maybe.”

Yuna groaned. “Ugh! Why are boys so stupid? If you like her, tell her! If she likes you back, be with her!”

Ryujin chuckled. “It’s not that simple, Yuna.”

Yuna huffed, crossing her arms. “It should be.”

You smiled a little.

Maybe in a perfect world.

But in your world—

Things were never that easy.

The conversation eventually drifted to other things—memories, inside jokes, playful bickering.

For the first time in a while, you felt at home.

Ryujin stole the remote from Yuna. Yuna dramatically whined and sprawled across your lap. You barely managed to push her off before she started tickling you.

Everything was exactly how it used to be.

And yet—

Something was different.

The way Ryujin’s eyes lingered on you longer than before. The way Yuna clung to you, her touch more possessive than playful. The way you felt—torn between the past and the present.

Ryujin smirked suddenly. “So, when are you seeing Karina again?”

You sighed. “You really wanna talk about this, huh?”

Yuna giggled. “Of course! We need to know if we should be jealous~”

You choked on your drink. “What?!”

Ryujin rolled her eyes. “She’s kidding. Mostly.”

Yuna pouted. “Hey, I’m partially serious!”

You stared at her.

She wasn’t joking.

Not entirely.

Your heart pounded.

“…Yuna.”

She stuck her tongue out playfully but didn’t deny anything.

Ryujin watched the interaction closely, her usual teasing smirk faltering slightly.

Something about the mood shifted.

It wasn’t just you who noticed things changing.

They did, too.

Later that night, Ryujin found you alone on the balcony.

She leaned against the railing beside you, looking out at the city lights.

“…You okay?”

You exhaled. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

Ryujin hummed. “About Karina?”

You smiled wryly. “About everything.”

She nodded.

A comfortable silence settled between you.

Then—

“Do you ever think about us?”

You turned to her, surprised.

She wasn’t looking at you.

Just staring out at the skyline.

Your heart tightened.

“…Yeah.”

Ryujin exhaled softly. “Me too.”

Another silence.

This one heavier.

“…Do you regret anything?” you asked.

Ryujin finally looked at you.

Her expression unreadable.

“…Sometimes.”

Your breath caught.

She wasn’t one to be vulnerable easily.

But tonight—

She was letting you in.

Just like Karina had.

And suddenly, you felt like you were standing at a crossroads.

The past. The present. The girls who once meant everything. The girl who was starting to mean everything.

And you—

Stuck in between.

Not knowing which path to take.

The next morning, a text lit up your phone.

Karina: Are you free today?

Your heart pounded.

You weren’t sure what you were doing.

But one thing was clear—

This wasn’t just about Karina anymore.

This was about all of them.

And sooner or later—

You’d have to choose.

You stood outside aespa’s apartment, staring at the door.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, an uneasy mix of anticipation and confusion twisting inside you.

Karina had texted you—short and simple.

Karina: Are you free today?

And now, here you were.

Taking a breath, you knocked.

The door swung open almost immediately, and before you could react—

A pair of arms wrapped tightly around you.

Karina.

She pressed herself into you, holding on as if she was afraid you’d slip away.

“Hey,” you murmured, surprised.

She didn’t say anything.

Didn’t move.

Just held you.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to do.

Then—

You hugged her back.

Her body relaxed slightly, but her grip remained firm.

Like she needed this.

Like she needed you.

When she finally pulled away, her face was unreadable.

You studied her, trying to figure out what she was thinking, but Karina was good at hiding things.

Too good.

Before you could say anything, a voice called from inside.

“Well, well, look who’s back.”

You turned to see Winter leaning against the couch, arms crossed, smirking.

Giselle sat beside her, grinning knowingly.

Ningning peeked over the back of the couch, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

“Welcome home, lover boy,” she teased.

You groaned. “Not you guys, too.”

Winter chuckled. “You did spend the night here. The entire night.”

Giselle smirked. “It’s only natural we ask questions.”

Karina shot them a glare. “Stop teasing.”

But her ears were turning red.

You sighed. “Can I at least sit down before the interrogation starts?”

Giselle patted the empty space beside her. “Go ahead. Make yourself comfortable.”

Karina tugged you toward the couch before you could react, practically shoving you down beside her.

The other girls exchanged knowing glances but said nothing.

For now.

A Comfortable Chaos

Spending time with aespa felt different than before.

There was an ease to it, a familiarity you hadn’t realized you missed.

Giselle teased you relentlessly, Winter made sarcastic remarks, and Ningning giggled at everything.

But Karina—

Karina was different.

She barely left your side.

Every time you moved, she moved with you.

Her hand brushed against yours more times than you could count.

Her eyes lingered on you, soft and warm.

And when she laughed—

God, you had missed that sound.

At one point, Ningning leaned close and whispered, “She’s different when you’re around, you know.”

You turned to her, surprised.

“She likes you,” Ningning continued, grinning. “Like, really likes you.”

Your stomach flipped.

You glanced at Karina—who was currently trying (and failing) to swat away Winter’s teasing.

She caught you staring.

And for the briefest moment—

Her expression softened.

Then she quickly looked away, pretending to be annoyed at Winter.

But you saw it.

The way her fingers twitched like she wanted to reach for you. The way she bit her lip to hide her smile. The way her entire body leaned toward yours without her realizing it.

She did like you.

And that scared you more than anything.

Because you weren’t sure if you were ready to accept it.

Or worse—

If you were ready to hurt her again.

A Moment Alone Eventually, the other girls left the room, giving you and Karina some space.

You sat in silence for a while, neither of you knowing what to say.

Then—

“I missed you,” Karina whispered.

Your chest tightened.

“…I missed you too.”

She looked up at you, searching your face for something.

Then, hesitantly—

She reached for your hand.

Her fingers curled around yours, warm and gentle.

“Are you…” she hesitated. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

Your breath caught.

You thought about Ryujin. About Yuna. About the way their eyes lingered, the way their touches felt different lately.

But in this moment—

None of them mattered.

Only Karina.

“…No,” you admitted.

She exhaled, relieved.

Then—

She smiled.

A soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache.

“Good,” she murmured.

Then, without another word—

She rested her head against your shoulder.

And for the first time in a long time—

You let yourself enjoy the moment.

Even if you knew it wouldn’t last.

Even if you knew this was only the beginning of something far more complicated.

Because right now—

Karina was in your arms.

And that was enough.

For now.

You and Karina sat close on the couch, her head still resting against your shoulder.

For the first time in a long while, things felt calm.

The conversation between you two was soft, almost hesitant.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” Karina murmured, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your palm.

“About what?”

“You.”

Your breath hitched.

She didn’t look at you, but you could feel her grip on your hand tighten slightly.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” she admitted. “I can’t.”

A lump formed in your throat.

Before you could respond—

Your phone rang.

You glanced down at the screen.

Ryujin.

You hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Before Ryujin could even speak—

Karina suddenly reached over and snatched the phone from your hands.

Your eyes widened. “Karina—”

She ended the call.

Your heart dropped. “What are you doing?”

Karina turned to you, her eyes dark with something unreadable.

Possessive.

Desperate.

“She doesn’t need you right now,” Karina whispered. “I do.”

You swallowed hard.

Something about the way she said it sent chills down your spine.

Karina placed your phone face-down on the table, as if making sure you wouldn’t touch it.

You stared at her, still processing what just happened.

“You can’t just end my calls like that,” you said, voice calm but firm.

Karina frowned, almost pouting.

“Why not?” she muttered.

“Because it’s not okay, Karina. That was Ryujin—”

Her expression darkened at the mention of Ryujin’s name.

“She can wait,” she said coldly.

Your chest tightened.

You had seen Karina jealous before.

But this—

This was different.

There was an obsession in her eyes.

A need for control.

And it scared you.

“…Karina,” you said carefully, watching her reaction. “You’re acting strange.”

She tilted her head, smiling sweetly.

“Am I?”

You nodded.

“I just don’t like sharing,” she whispered.

Then—

She leaned in.

Her lips ghosted over your jawline, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched. “Karina—”

“You belong to me, don’t you?” she whispered.

You felt trapped.

Cornered.

Her fingers curled into your shirt, gripping tightly as if she was afraid you’d disappear.

She wasn’t asking.

She was stating.

And deep down—

You weren’t sure if you had the strength to deny her.

A Dangerous Obsession

Your breath hitched as Karina leaned in, her warm lips pressing against yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

Her hands curled into your shirt, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as if she was afraid you’d slip away.

Your mind screamed at you to stop.

To push her away.

To tell her that what she was doing wasn’t right.

But your body—

Your body didn’t listen.

She pulled away slightly, her forehead resting against yours, her breath warm against your lips.

“Focus on me,” she whispered. “Just me.”

She reached over and grabbed your phone—

Then threw it across the room.

The sound of it hitting the floor echoed in the silence.

Your stomach dropped.

“Karina—what the hell?!” You tried to move, but she tightened her grip around you.

“I don’t want any distractions,” she murmured, her eyes filled with something dark. “Not when you’re with me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest.

This wasn’t just jealousy.

It was something more.

Something dangerous.

“Karina,” you said carefully. “You can’t just—”

She kissed you again, cutting off your words, her hands sliding up your arms, her touch possessive.

“Please,” she whispered against your lips. “Just for today.”

You felt like you were drowning.

Trapped in something you weren’t sure you could escape from.

And the scariest part?

A part of you didn’t want to.

Something’s Wrong

Ryujin furrowed her brows, staring at her phone screen.

The call had ended.

Just like that.

No explanation. No reason. Just a sudden, abrupt disconnection.

She tried calling again.

No answer.

Her fingers tapped impatiently against her thigh as she sat in the ITZY apartment, her mind racing.

She called again.

Still nothing.

She scoffed. “What the hell?”

Yuna, who was sitting beside her, glanced up from her phone. “What’s up?”

Ryujin clenched her jaw. “He’s not picking up.”

Yuna blinked. “Huh? He just texted earlier, right?”

Ryujin nodded. Exactly.

It wasn’t like you to ignore her calls. If you were busy, you’d at least text back.

But this?

This felt wrong.

She gripped her phone tighter and called again.

Voicemail.

Her stomach twisted.

Something wasn’t right.

She tried again.

Nothing.

“…Something’s wrong,” she muttered, standing up abruptly.

Yuna sat up straighter. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Ryujin didn’t answer.

Her heart was pounding now.

A sinking feeling settled in her chest as she stared at the unanswered calls.

Where the hell were you?

Ryujin tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her jaw clenched as she sped through the dimly lit streets. The city lights blurred past her, but her mind was fixated on only one thing—you.

You weren’t answering.

She had called at least ten times, yet every single one went to voicemail.

That wasn’t like you.

Not at all.

A bitter taste formed in her mouth as she replayed the last conversation she had with you. You said you were going to see them—Karina and the rest of AESPA. At first, she thought nothing of it, but now…

Her fingers tightened around the wheel.

The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became.

The way Karina ended the call so abruptly.

The way you didn’t even get to answer her properly.

The way Karina had always looked at you.

Obsessive. Possessive.

Ryujin had noticed it before, but she never thought much of it. Maybe she was just overthinking things.

But now?

Now, she wasn’t sure.

The rain started drizzling, tapping against the windshield as she pressed harder on the gas.

She didn’t care.

She just needed to see you.

To make sure you were okay.

As she approached AESPA’s apartment building, she parked her car carelessly and jumped out, not even bothering to take an umbrella. The cold wind bit against her skin, but she barely noticed it.

Her heart pounded violently against her chest as she reached the entrance.

She took a deep breath before pressing the buzzer.

Once.

Twice.

No response.

Her patience wore thin. She pressed it again, this time holding onto it longer.

Finally, the door unlocked with a faint click.

Without hesitation, Ryujin stepped inside, her breathing uneven as she made her way toward their unit.

Something wasn’t right.

And she was going to find out exactly what it was.

Ryujin barely took a moment to acknowledge Ningning before cutting straight to the point.

"Where is he?"

Her tone was cold—distant.

Ningning, who had been rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, frowned at the unexpected hostility.

"What do you mean? It’s late—"

"Where is he, Ningning?" Ryujin’s voice was sharp, leaving no room for excuses. Her piercing gaze made Ningning hesitate, shifting uncomfortably.

The younger girl sighed. "He’s in Karina’s room."

Ryujin felt her stomach drop.

Her grip on her phone tightened, her mind racing.

Something about this didn’t sit right with her.

Ningning, noticing her expression, furrowed her brows. "Why are you even here? It’s late, Ryujin. You’re acting weird—"

Ryujin didn’t respond.

Instead, she pushed past Ningning, marching straight toward Karina’s room.

She didn’t care about the consequences.

She needed to see you.

And she needed to see you now.

Ryujin’s footsteps were heavy, her heart pounding violently in her chest as she stormed through the hallway.

Each step closer to Karina’s door made her blood boil hotter.

And then—she heard it.

Muffled noises.

Moans.

"Y/n… Y/n… that feels good."

Ryujin froze, her breath hitching.

Her nails dug into her palms as she clenched her fists.

The anger. The confusion. The betrayal.

It consumed her.

Without another second of hesitation, she shoved the door open with force.

BANG.

The door slammed against the wall.

And what she saw made her stomach churn.

Karina was straddling you.

Her hands gripping your shoulders. Her flushed face inches from yours.

Your hands were on her waist.

Your shirt was half undone.

Karina gasped at the sudden intrusion, her head snapping toward the door.

Ryujin stood there, breathing heavily—her eyes burning with rage.

"What the fuck is this?" Ryujin’s voice was sharp, venomous.

You immediately pushed Karina off you, scrambling to sit up.

"Ryujin, I—"

"Save it." Her jaw tightened as she glared at you.

Karina, still catching her breath, smirked slightly.

"You should knock before coming in, Ryujin."

That smirk. That tone.

It sent Ryujin over the edge.

Her hands trembled. Her body burned with frustration.

"So this is why you didn’t pick up my calls? Because you were too busy fucking around with her?"

You ran a hand through your hair, guilt written all over your face.

"It’s not what it looks like—"

"Oh, it looks pretty damn clear to me." Ryujin scoffed bitterly.

Karina let out a small chuckle, tilting her head as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders possessively.

"He’s mine, Ryujin. He chose me."

Ryujin’s eyes flickered between you and Karina, the weight of the situation settling in.

Her heart sank.

"So that’s it, huh?"

Her voice wavered for the first time.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

The silence was deafening.

Ryujin let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.

"You’re fucking unbelievable, Y/n."

She turned around, storming out without another word.

But before she left, she paused in the doorway.

Without turning back, she spoke one last time.

"I hope she’s worth it."

And just like that—she was gone.

Your breath was shaky as you tried to sit up, your mind still processing the look on Ryujin’s face before she stormed out. The guilt gnawed at your chest, but before you could move—

Karina pushed you back down.

Her strength caught you off guard. Her body hovered over yours, her dark eyes gleaming with something dangerous—something possessive.

Your lips parted, ready to protest, but—

Karina’s fingers pressed against your mouth, silencing you.

"Shh…" she whispered, her breath warm against your skin.

You tried to turn your head away, but her grip was firm, refusing to let you escape.

"Don’t speak. Don’t think about her. Just focus on me, Y/n."

Your heart pounded.

This wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t Karina.

At least… not the Karina you used to know.

Her other hand trailed down your chest, her touch light but possessive, as if she was claiming every inch of you.

"The night is still young." She leaned in, her lips ghosting over your ear. "So I want you to continue."

Your breath hitched.

"Forget her, babe."

Her voice dripped with sweetness, yet there was an underlying obsession in her tone.

"You have me now."

Your throat went dry.

This wasn’t about love anymore.

This was control.

Possession.

And no matter how much you wanted to deny it—

You were trapped.

You pushed Karina's hand away, standing up despite her resistance.

"Y/n… don’t go."

Her voice wavered, a mixture of desperation and frustration. But you couldn’t stay.

This was wrong.

You turned away from her, ignoring the sting of guilt in your chest as you walked toward the door.

You had to find Ryujin.

"She’s not even worth it!" Karina’s voice cracked, her frustration spilling out. "She doesn’t love you the way I do!"

You clenched your jaw.

You didn’t look back.

You couldn’t.

Karina suddenly grabbed your wrist, her grip tight—almost painful.

"Y/n, don’t leave me for her." Her voice trembled, her dark eyes searching yours. "She’ll never be able to love you the way I do. I need you. Please."

You slowly pulled your hand away.

"I need to fix this." Your voice was firm, but your heart ached seeing the way Karina's expression shattered.

Without another word, you walked out of the room.

Out of her grip.

And out into the night—toward Ryujin.

The Cold Night and Ryujin’s Silence You bolted down the stairs of Aespa’s apartment, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. The winter air bit at your skin, but the cold was nothing compared to the storm raging inside of you.

Ryujin.

She was already getting into her car, her fingers gripping the steering wheel, her eyes fixated on the road ahead. You could see the sharpness in her gaze, the coldness in the way she moved.

She was furious.

You sprinted toward her, desperation clawing at your chest.

"Ryujin, wait!"

She didn’t turn to look at you. Her expression remained unreadable as she reached for the ignition. The engine roared to life, the deep rumble of her sports car filling the silent parking lot.

You stepped in front of the car, hands raised, breath fogging in the icy air.

"Ryujin, please. Just let me explain!"

Her hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.

You could see it—the way her jaw clenched, her lips pressing together in a thin line. She was angry. Hurt. Betrayed.

Still, you didn’t move.

Then, she revved the engine.

Vroom.

The sound was deafening, drowning out your voice.

You flinched slightly but held your ground.

"I swear, it wasn’t what you think!" You pleaded, your voice straining against the overwhelming noise.

Vroom. Vroom.

Louder.

Your words were swallowed by the growl of the engine.

"Ryujin… I need—"

Vroom.

"For fuck’s sake, just listen!"

Vroom. Vroom.

She revved again. Louder this time. The engine roared, the vibrations rattling through your chest.

She wasn’t going to let you talk.

You could see the fire in her eyes. The pain. The anger.

She was daring you to move.

She was telling you, without saying a single word, that she was done listening to excuses.

You exhaled sharply, your breath visible in the cold air.

"Ryujin…"

She didn’t respond.

Instead, she cranked up the gas once more, and for a moment, you thought she might actually drive off. Maybe even push past you.

But she didn’t.

She just sat there, watching you with that same icy glare.

Waiting.

You swallowed hard, your fists clenching.

You had to do something. You had to make her listen.

Without thinking, you took a step forward—closer to the driver’s side door.

Ryujin’s foot hovered over the pedal, but she hesitated.

That hesitation was all you needed.

You reached for the door handle and pulled it open before she could react.

She turned to you, eyes burning with fury.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the night like a blade.

You held onto the door, refusing to let her close it.

"I’m not letting you leave like this," you said, breathless. "Not until you hear me out."

She scoffed, looking away. "Why should I? I already know what I saw."

"No, you don’t!" You took another step closer, desperate. "It wasn’t like that, Ryujin. You have to believe me."

She exhaled through her nose, her grip on the wheel tightening. "Oh, really? Because from where I stood, it looked pretty damn clear."

Her voice was filled with venom.

"Karina was all over you, Y/n. I heard everything. I saw everything."

You felt your chest tighten.

"She was drunk, Ryujin. She—"

"And you let her straddle you? You let her touch you?" Her voice cracked slightly, but she quickly masked it with another glare.

You hesitated.

You didn’t know how to explain it.

It did look bad. It sounded bad.

"I pushed her away," you finally said, voice softer. "I told her no."

Ryujin’s expression flickered for a moment.

You saw the slightest hint of hesitation in her eyes.

She wanted to believe you.

She really did.

But the damage was already done.

"I can’t do this, Y/n," she muttered, shaking her head.

You felt your heart sink.

"Ryujin—"

She suddenly reached out, grabbing the collar of your shirt.

She pulled you closer, her face just inches from yours.

"Do you love her?"

The question caught you off guard.

"What?"

Her eyes were searching yours, desperate for an answer.

"Do you love her?" she repeated, her voice quieter now. More fragile.

Your breath hitched.

The truth was… complicated.

But you knew one thing for sure.

"No," you said firmly. "I don’t."

Ryujin’s grip on your shirt loosened.

But she didn’t let go.

She bit her lip, eyes darting away for a moment.

"Then why did you let it happen?" she whispered.

You swallowed hard.

"I didn’t," you insisted. "I stopped it before it went too far."

Ryujin didn’t respond.

For a moment, there was only silence.

The cold wind blew between you, ruffling her hair.

She still looked angry. But there was something else in her expression now.

Something more vulnerable.

"You always say the right things," she finally muttered, looking away. "But I don’t know if I can believe you anymore."

Those words hurt more than anything else.

You felt your chest tighten, your throat clenching.

"Ryujin, please…"

She let out a shaky breath.

Then, without another word—she let go.

She let go of your shirt.

Let go of whatever hope she was holding onto.

And just like that… she turned away.

You watched helplessly as she stepped back into the driver’s seat.

The door slammed shut.

You didn’t move.

You didn’t say anything.

And then—

Vroom.

The sound of the engine roared once more.

You stood there, watching as she shifted into reverse.

The tires screeched slightly as she backed away.

And before you could say anything else—

She was gone.

The red taillights disappeared into the night, leaving you standing alone in the parking lot.

Heartbroken.

Defeated.

And completely, utterly lost.

The Aftermath You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the cold air biting at your skin.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, but you didn’t have the strength to check it.

Your mind was still replaying everything.

Ryujin’s anger.

Karina’s desperation.

Your own fucking mistakes.

You should’ve done something differently.

You should’ve stopped Karina sooner.

You should’ve run after Ryujin sooner.

You should’ve…

The thought trailed off as your phone vibrated again.

With a deep breath, you finally reached into your pocket and pulled it out.

1 New Message.

From: Karina.

Your jaw tightened.

You hesitated before opening it.

Karina: I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to ruin things for you.

Another vibration.

Karina: But I meant what I said.

You exhaled sharply.

You couldn’t do this right now.

Your head was pounding, your heart was fucking breaking, and you had no idea how to fix any of this.

Slowly, you typed out a reply.

You: I need time, Karina.

You stared at the screen for a moment before sending it.

Then, without another word, you turned off your phone.

You shoved it back into your pocket and ran a hand through your hair.

The night was still young.

But you?

You felt completely drained.

And for the first time in a long time…

You didn’t know where to go.

Or who to go to.

All you knew was one thing.

You had to find a way to fix this.

To Be Continued

[bu3ck3r]

always us

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

wc: 3k

summary: paige and azzi confront their fears and reaffirm their deep commitment to one another

It had been a long, tense few days, and the silence between Paige and Azzi had become a weight too heavy to bear. The usual hum of laughter and gentle teasing that defined their relationship had been replaced by an uncomfortable quiet that neither of them knew how to fill.

It had started so innocuously, just a small misunderstanding, a passing comment that should have been forgotten, but it had festered. Neither of them had backed down, neither of them had apologized. And now, sitting across from one another in their small dorm, the space between them felt wider than it ever had before.

Paige ran her fingers through her hair, the familiar motion one of her many nervous habits, but this time, it only served to irritate her further. She could feel the frustration building in her chest like a slow burning fire, the heat of it rising with each tick of the clock on the wall.

"Why do you always do this?" Paige's voice was quiet but sharp, the words cutting through the heavy silence.

Azzi's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Do what, Paige?" she asked, the edge to her tone betraying the calm front she was trying to maintain. "What exactly do you mean by always?"

Paige swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing, but she couldn't stop now. The words had to come out, even if they felt like daggers. "Why do you shut me out every time something happens? You just... retreat, and I have to chase after you, but you don’t let me in."

Azzi looked away, eyes dropping to her hands. The confession struck a nerve, one that had been tender for a while now. “I don’t shut you out. I just... I can’t deal with everything at once, okay?” she murmured, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability that she rarely showed.

Paige felt the sting of those words, the realization hitting her that, perhaps, Azzi wasn’t as strong as she appeared. But that didn’t make it easier. "I can’t always be the one trying to fix things, Azzi. I can’t keep doing this. You say you need space, but all I’m asking for is to be there for you when you’re hurting. Why is that so hard for you to accept?"

The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, suffocating. Paige’s heart raced, her breath shallow as the emotions swirled around her. She had never felt so... powerless. The intensity of her feelings, hurt, anger, confusion, flooded her.

Azzi stood abruptly, walking to the window as if the view could offer her some relief. “You think I don’t want you there? You think I don’t want to be open with you?” Her voice cracked, and she quickly swallowed, her back to Paige.

Paige stood up, the impulse to move toward Azzi like a magnet pulling at her. "Then why do you push me away?" she asked, her voice breaking as she stepped closer, the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill over.

Azzi’s shoulders tensed, but she didn’t turn around. Instead, she stared out the window, a tremor in her voice as she spoke. "Because I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that I’m going to hurt you, that I’m not enough for you, and I don’t know how to be everything you need me to be. I don’t know how to love you the way you deserve. I never learned how to be... this vulnerable."

Paige froze, the words hitting her like a physical blow. "Scared?" she repeated softly, her eyes welling up as she processed what Azzi had just said. “Azzi, you’re not gonna hurt me. But pushing me away, keeping me at arm’s length... that’s what hurts me. It breaks my heart every time.”

Azzi’s breath hitched as she finally turned to face Paige, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "Please can we just stop talking about it right now," she whispered, her voice fragile, barely above a whisper. “I need to think, please give me space.”

…

The sound of a basketball echoed through the empty UConn practice gym. The steady rhythm of dribbling, the squeak of sneakers against polished hardwood, the sharp breath of exertion everything about Paige’s movements screamed frustration.

Her blonde ponytail bounced as she moved, her body working on autopilot. Dribble, crossover, step-back jumper. The ball swished through the net with perfect precision, but she barely acknowledged it. The burn in her muscles wasn’t enough to drown out the ache in her chest.

She was angry. And hurt.

She and Azzi had argued before, sure. They were passionate and stubborn, so sometimes that led to disagreements. But this? This had been different.

This had felt like a crack in something she thought was unbreakable.

The gym doors creaked open behind her, and Paige’s grip on the ball tightened. She didn’t need to look to know who it was. The air shifted, her entire body reacting to the presence of the one person who could unravel her in an instant.

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice was soft, careful.

Paige exhaled sharply, bouncing the ball once before tossing it aside. She finally turned around, her blue eyes locking onto Azzi’s.

Azzi looked hesitant, arms crossed over her chest like she was bracing for impact. “Can we talk?”

Paige scoffed, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “Now you want to talk?” Her voice was laced with bitterness, but underneath it was something more vulnerable.

Azzi flinched at her tone. “Paige, please.”

Paige shook her head. “You don’t get to do this,” she said, voice rising slightly. “You don’t get to shut me out, walk away, and then just show up like nothing happened.”

Azzi looked away, guilt written all over her face. “I know,” she murmured. “I messed up.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her frustration bubbling over. “Do you even know what it felt like last night? To stand there, telling you how much I need you, and then just watch you walk away?” Her voice cracked at the end, and she hated how raw she sounded.

Azzi took a hesitant step forward. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Paige let out a bitter laugh. “But you did. You always do this, Azzi. Every time things get hard, you shut down. You don’t talk to me, you don’t let me in you just leave me standing there, wondering if I said something wrong. Wondering if I’m too much for you.”

Azzi’s face crumpled. “Paige, no—”

“Then why do you do it?” Paige interrupted, blinking rapidly as the emotions threatened to spill over.

Azzi swallowed, looking down at her hands. “Because I’m scared.”

Paige stilled, her breath catching in her throat. “…Scared of what?”

Azzi’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Of losing you.”

Paige felt something in her chest tighten.

Azzi exhaled shakily, finally meeting Paige’s eyes again. “I love you so much, Paige. It terrifies me. Because what if I say the wrong thing? What if I mess this up? What if I hurt you so badly one day that you decide I’m not worth it?”

Paige’s heart ached at the sheer vulnerability in Azzi’s voice.

“I shut down because I don’t know how to handle it,” Azzi admitted. “But I see now that walking away only hurts you more. And I never, ever want to be the reason you feel like you’re not enough. Because you are, Paige. You always have been.”

A tear slipped down Paige’s cheek before she could stop it. Azzi’s face crumbled at the sight, and she took another step forward, closing the distance between them.

This time, Paige didn’t move away.

Azzi reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Paige let out a shaky breath, squeezing Azzi’s hand like it was the only thing grounding her. “I don’t need you to have all the answers, Azzi. I just need you to let me in.”

Azzi nodded, her grip tightening. “I will. I swear.”

For a moment, they just stood there, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the gym.

Azzi’s eyes softened with understanding, and she reached out to touch Paige’s arm, her fingers light, barely brushing against her skin. “You’re not alone,” Azzi said, her voice steady now, filled with determination. “I’m here. I always will be. I just—” She faltered, her lips parting slightly. “I just need you to know that I love you. I’m sorry I haven’t shown it the way I should.”

Paige’s chest tightened at the sincerity in Azzi’s words, and before she could stop herself, she stepped closer, closing the distance between them. “I love you too,” Paige whispered, her voice low. The words felt like they’d been stuck in her throat, but saying them now, with Azzi standing so close, felt like an exhale she didn’t realize she needed. “I need you to show me though. I need to know you’re here.”

Azzi looked into her eyes, her gaze searching. Slowly, Azzi’s hands moved to Paige’s face, gently cupping her cheeks, her thumbs tracing circles on her skin. The softness of Azzi’s touch made Paige’s heart flutter, but it also made something inside her stir a longing that had been building for so long.

Azzi’s eyes softened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against Paige’s forehead in a tender kiss. “I’m here,” she whispered. “Always.”

And then, without another word, Azzi’s lips found Paige’s in a kiss that was everything Paige had been craving. It started slow, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But soon, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. Azzi’s hands slid into Paige’s hair, pulling her closer, and Paige responded in kind, her arms winding around Azzi’s waist, bringing her even closer.

Every kiss, every touch, felt like a promise. A promise that they were here. That they were in this together.

Azzi pulled back for a moment, her chest heaving with breath. “Paige, I… I need you,” she whispered, her voice raw with emotion. “I’ve needed you so badly, but I’ve been afraid. Afraid I might push you away.”

Paige’s breath caught in her throat, her hands moving to Azzi’s back, feeling the warmth of her body through the fabric of her shirt. “You won’t,” Paige murmured. “You never will.”

Paige’s hands slipped lower, resting on Azzi’s hips, her touch gentle but insistent. There was a tenderness in her movements, but also an undeniable hunger. The way her fingers traced the curve of Azzi’s body made her heart race, her body reacting without thinking.

Without breaking the kiss, Paige guided Azzi toward the bench at the side of the court. She gently sat down, pulling Azzi to straddle her lap. The position felt intimate, natural, but there was something else, a need between them, an unspoken longing that was growing stronger with every moment.

Azzi’s hands slid down to Paige’s shoulders, her fingers lightly grazing the fabric of Paige’s shirt before pushing it up, inch by inch. Paige lifted her arms, allowing Azzi to pull it off completely, revealing her arms, the soft glow of her skin in the dim light of the gym. Azzi couldn’t stop herself from running her hands over Paige’s bare skin, her fingertips tracing the lines of her muscles, feeling the warmth of her body.

Azzi leaned forward, capturing Paige’s lips again, the kiss deepening as Paige’s hands moved to Azzi’s shirt, tugging it up over her head. Their lips never parted, their movements eager but tender, as if they both wanted to savor every second.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Paige’s gaze was intense, filled with both love and longing. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice trembling. “I need to be sure, Azzi.”

Azzi nodded, her hands caressing Paige’s face. “I’m sure. I want this. I want you.”

Paige’s lips curved into a soft, appreciative smile before she kissed Azzi again. This time, the kiss was filled with a deeper passion, a more urgent desire. Paige’s hands explored every inch of Azzi’s body, memorizing the feel of her as if they had all the time in the world. But neither of them could deny the tension that had been building between them for so long.

Every touch felt electric. Every kiss was a promise, a reaffirmation of their love, their bond. Paige’s hands slid lower, tracing the waistband of Azzi’s shorts, tugging them down slowly, deliberately. Azzi shivered at the sensation, her breath hitching as Paige’s fingertips grazed over her skin, sending sparks through her body.

“Paige…” Azzi gasped, her body arching into Paige’s touch.

“Shh,” Paige murmured softly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear, her hands steady and sure. “I’ve got you.”

Azzi sighed contentedly, resting her head against Paige’s shoulder as they stood in the quiet gym, wrapped up in each other.

Then, Paige hesitated before asking, “Can I hold you?”

Azzi’s defenses crumbled completely. Without a word, she stepped into Paige’s arms, burying her face in the crook of her neck. Paige wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly, like she never wanted to let go.

Azzi closed her eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of Paige’sd skin—vanilla and something undeniably her. The warmth of her embrace, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against Paige’s own, was more comforting than anything words could provide.

Azzi pressed a lingering kiss to the side of Paige’s head, murmuring, “I love you.”

Paige exhaled against her, nuzzling closer. “I love you too.”

For a long time, they stayed like that, swaying slightly as if they were the only two people in the world.

Then, Azzi pulled back just enough to cup Paige’s face in her hands. “I’m never walking away from you again,” she whispered.

Paige searched her eyes, looking for hesitation. There was none.

A slow, soft smile broke across her face. “Good.”

Because at the end of the day, no matter how messy things got, they would always find their way back to each other.

[cherrycheolkat]

Hi kat!!!

Omg hmo ✋️

Big dick cheol + hate sex from bingo v.3 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

okie so i've heard you and your doppleganger lol so this is your version of this and they will get something else - ideally you both enjoy them

♡ kat

bingo square: bigdick!cheol + hate sex

pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

summary: seungcheol wants to know if y/n really hates him

genre: college au, collegestudent!cheol, collegestudent!reader

word count: 0.7k

rating: 18+, mdni

warnings: explicit language, smut, fingering, mentioned penetrative sex

he groaned as he pulled out, “fuck, you’re gaping for me, baby,” he breathed roughly, his fingers replacing his dick, stretching you, literally just playing with your pussy. 

you smacked his hand away, “such an idiot,” you shighed. 

he was already running his hands along your inner thighs, biting his lip roughly, “how do you have such a perfect cunt?” 

you rolled your eyes, “how did you end up with a decent cock?”

he laughed, “decent? is that all it is - just ‘decent’ when i’m making you scream for me?” he squeezed your thighs roughly - his touch felt too familiar. it was annoying how familiar he felt between your legs - how good he felt. 

you groaned and moved to sit up, but he was quicker, leaning down and pressing you back into the mattress, nipping roughly at your throat. your hands seemed to go to his hair without thought, tracing over his scalp, loving the things his lips were doing. 

“did i say we were finished?” he whispered, breath warm and sweet next to your ear. 

you whined softly, pulling his hair gently, “it’s like 3 am - you don’t want your roommates to know you’re in here fucking me, the queen bitch or whatever you call me now,” you whispered. 

“why not? i can tell them how i finally made you so dumb for my dick, you actually shut up for once,” he kissed your throat roughly, “it’s actually kind of a win for me,” he mumbled, licking gently over the places he had been rough with before, “my dick is so good, even you like it, miss-i-hate-seungcheol,” he nuzzled close, his lips teasing your collarbones.

your hands traced over his shoulders, loving how wide they were, how muscular. his body was one thing you had never complained about. and he was right - you did love his dick. 

you hummed softly, “maybe i don’t want them to know you’re fucking me, since it’s kind of embarassing,” you said, your fingernails pressing gently into his skin. 

he only nuzzled closer, “when are you going to stop being mean to me?”

his voice was so low and good and entirely too soft - you were still playing with his hair, smoothing the tangles you had made. you had been with him for hours. you had been fucking on and off since early that night - you had started in the living room and ended up in his bedroom like any time you came over. 

“when are you going to stop calling me a ‘bitch’?”

he pressed closer, “i don’t call you a ‘bitch’, anymore.”

you didn’t answer - maybe he didn’t call you a bitch anymore, but he had said plenty of shitty things about you freshman year. and a few good fucks didn’t exactly change your feelings about him. even if he was an especially good lay. 

you tried pushing him back again, “aren’t you dating someone?” you asked, voice sharp, meant to put some distance between you.

he didn’t budge - he only leaned up to look down at you - to trace his fingers gently along your cheek, and shake his head, “no, not since,” he stared at you and bit his lip, “not since it kept happening with you.”

even in the low light of his room, you could see the flush blooming across his cheeks. you wondered how long he had been toying with that thought - how long he had been thinking about telling you about that thought. 

your fingertips were still tracing against his skin - you knew you could shoot him down - tell him to ‘fuck off.’ you could really be mean to him if you wanted. but you were quiet.

which only served to make him brave, “stay the night?” he whispered, voice barely audible, “stay with me,” he was watching you, his pretty eyes taking you in, waiting for something.

you sighed, “cheol”— you started.

he immediately started to pull away - it was like you had slapped him. 

you were annoyed that he was actually going to get up - that he wasn’t even going to listen to you. you grabbed his arm roughly, “idiot,” you said sternly, “i was going to say ‘yes’.”

“oh,” he whispered. 

a/n: i love writing cheol - fr you have no idea how usually when i write a long fic it's cheol-centric - him and his boba eyes and his amazing eyelashes - he is def the definition of sexy 30s

♡ kat

if you want to submit a bingo ask the newest bingo is [here] but there are still open squares from the previous two [here] and nsfw only bingo is [here]

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♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

[beatlblog]

#i really really wish he hadn't kept throwing george under the bus like that#nunya business son! (via i-am-the-oyster)

#and people still claim this one isn't about john#but sure#it's about *george* not telling john he loved him#you keep that emotional distance son (via javelinbk)

#leave george out of this#exploding him with my mind (via icriedforthemoon)

#my good sir keep george out of it (via liddypaul)

#the way he's throwing george under the bus here..... (via camphorror)

#everytime he's being gay about john he Has to throw george under the bus#WHY DOES HE DO THAT (via repressedgaymer)

#i'm throwing a brick at him (via longing4yesterday)

#i’m sure george really regretted… not telling john he wanted to suck it one last time :/#i hope george hit their heads together at least once i really do (via thegirlwiththeaxe)

#and his situation isn’t as bad as someone say george’s so he’s actually lucky#i think the worst thing he could imagine was john dying while they weren’t friendly and is afraid that john didn’t know#so he gives that pain to george in order to verbalize it. but george isn’t you paul it’s not going to be the same#he always tries to sound wise but in this case it just sounds childish (via weedsmokingmacca)

#paul mccartney: queen of the john girls (via lastlennonista)

#george i cry for you :( (via ringosmistress)

#projection is strong with this one (via therealestwizard)

#i hate him. so much#ah yes the classic mccartney maneuver:#“ah fuck this is starting to sound rlly gay quick throw the George Distraction Smoke Bomb so no one figures out im devastated i never told#john i love him“#smooth macca smooth (via paulmccartneyexplodingonstage)

#you know I'm sure george geniunely was regretful that he and john never sorted things out#but come on you didn't write that song from george's perspective (via always-a-mad-comet)

#would love to know what george thought on hearing this#rub it in paul why dontcha (via kinsfaun)

#like the tags are saying#e's the king of projecting (especially when it comes to john) (via friends2go)

#George should've killed him and I'm being so serious (via iwannabeyourman)

#sometimes I think George held an unnecessary grudge towards Paul#and then I hear Paul say shit like this and I get it#like yeah#I probably wouldn’t want to be around people like this either#like why are you projecting that on me#YOU didn’t tell him you loved him#you even said that. multiple times.#and I am not your little brother#can you stop being condescending#sorry for the rant#I love george and I love Paul#I just don’t know why he’s the way that he is (via mockerprincess)

#shut up about george omfg (via muzaktomyears)

#so interesting that he starts saying he and john finally reconnected a few weeks before john died#and then mid-sentence he changes the word to ‘months’ (via janeeyrewasfaecoded)

#*actively in tears* no ​IM normal and fine. but i bet THAT guy is super torn up about it#points to a man who visibly does not give a fuck#come on man even you have to see this shield is flimsy as hell#you never communicated let’s not kid ourselves (via weedsmokingmacca)

#yeah sure George#of course (via one-after--909)

idk how george was able to tolerate him (via beatle-stories333)

#george definitely has nothing to do with all that#that's the song about you and john (via yulia-k-blog)

#under the bus you go george (via scurator)

#I really don’t like that paul speaks for george here#because we is going to say ‘no that’s not true’ when he is paul mccartney#once of the closest sources#i’m not saying paul is lying but still. (via georgegirltm)

#I would make fun of him for the george stuff but he sounds like he's about to cry (via always-a-mad-comet)

#leave george out of this! (via midchelle)

#< prev so true. ''oh i had no regrets abt john but GEORGE never told him he loved him and wanted to hold john in his arms#and kiss him and say that john was his and-''#sure paul (via unusable)

what if I just jump off a bridge

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

can you do rafe is your brother’s best friend?

a phone works two ways, you know

brothers best friend!rafe cameron x thornton!fem!reader

cw — fluff, angst, kinda sad if you squint but also kinda happy ending, alcohol

summary — rafe does his best to hide his feelings for his best friends younger sister until he cracks one day.

authors note — thank you so much for the request!! i’ll probably be posting a little celebration for 1.5k today where i’ll be writing as much as i can for as many requests as possible so please stay tuned for that :)

“topper, did you take my speaker again?” you asked your older brother, voice soft but teetering on the verge of annoyance. he always did this. he snuck into your room when you were out and stole it, drained the battery, then forgets to give it back as if he can’t just buy his own. “i’m going out to the pool and i need it.”

the three boys turned their heads over their shoulders, kelce murmuring something under his breath, rafe just staring at you, and topper fake gagging from his spot between them. you were wearing a baby pink triangle bikini with a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “jeez, can you at least put some clothes on? my friends are here.”

you rolled your eyes at him and huffed. “its a million degrees outside and i’m literally going in the pool,” you said as if it were obvious. “can you just get my speaker please?”

“its dead,” he said dismissively before turning back to the tv to watch the football game with kelce. rafes gaze lingered for a couple extra seconds until he followed their actions.

a groan left your lips as you turned on your heel and headed for the back door. “you’re the worst,” you mumbled before shutting it behind you. thankfully your tanning chair was already set out from the day before, so you carefully laid your towel down and your water bottle underneath it then sat on the ledge with your feet splashing in the water.

you casually scrolled through your socials, checking up on what was going on as of late considering you hadn’t done much but sit in your room with sarah. after a few minutes of sitting alone, the door opened. the sound didn’t catch your attention and neither did the footsteps. you didn’t even notice anyone was outside with you until water splashed all over you.

a gasp left your lips and you watched the culprit return to surface in the water. you glared at rafe who was now smiling and rubbing his eyes. “dude. are you serious? i had my phone in my hand.”

he could only laugh. “you’re by the pool. why do you even need it?” he asked teasingly. it only made you more annoyed.

“i was doing stuff, asshole,” you muttered, pushing the wet strands of your hair behind your ears.

he quickly swam over to you and grabbed your phone from your hand then tossed it over to your chair. he parted your legs slightly and stood between them with his big hands resting on your upper thighs. “i think,” he began, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into your damp skin. “you should just pay attention to me instead.”

you chuckled under your breath and pushed at his shoulder gently. “you’re such a cornball,” you replied jokingly. “why are you even out here? shouldn’t you be watching the game with them?”

“kelce started bitchin’ about how it was too hot so topper got all pissy and suggested coming in here with you,” he explained, his blue piercing eyes staring up into yours. “i mean, c’mon. you know i’d never deny the opportunity to see you.”

you shook your head and looked away. “don’t do that, rafe,” you said firmly. you chewed your lip anxiously and pushed his hands off of you. small beads of sweat formed on your forehead from the heat and beaming sun, making you quickly get off the ledge and into the cool water.

he tilted his head slightly and turned to watch your movements as you created a small distance between the two of you. “do what?”

“that,” you stated. “don’t say things like that. the moment topper comes out here, you’ll act completely different and pretend none of this ever happened. you can’t just do that. its not fair and it makes me feel like crap.”

he moved forward so he was close enough to grab you with a frown on his lips, his hands gently holding your waist and bringing you to him so your front was pressed flush against his own. “you know i wouldn’t if i had the choice, sweetheart. we both know top would kill me if he ever found out.”

you pushed away from his again as he hands fell from your body and limp by his sides. “maybe you should’ve thought about that before you kissed me then.”

your first kiss. it was a week ago when he’d taken you out to get ice cream while your brother was out at a party that he had no interest in attending, especially if it meant he’d have you all to himself for a few hours. he’d driven you to some cute little ice cream parlor by the beach and kissed you under the stars like it was some movie and you two were the main characters. you thought things would be different after that. apparently you were really far off.

“c’mon baby, its not like that. you’re making it seem like that was a mistake,” he tried to reason. he didn’t like the fact that you were stepping further and further away from him. it made his heart clench uncomfortably. “i don’t regret that and i don’t want you to either. trust me, if it weren’t for topper, things would be different. we jus’ have to let him warm up to the idea.”

you scoffed under your breath and looked down at the sparkling water. “yeah? and how long is that gonna take? weeks? months? years even?” your voice was surprisingly calm and it was beginning to genuinely worry him. “you knew how special that was to me. and in all honesty, it does feel like a mistake, rafe. if you weren’t planning on having anything serious with me then you shouldn’t have even bothered. i’m not gonna let my brothers opinion dictate my entire life and you shouldn’t either.”

you could visibly see his posture drop slightly and his expression turn into and unreadable one. before he could try to convince you otherwise, the two boys emerged from the house all smiley and cheering loudly. “we found the good booze,” topper said excitedly.

they each took a bottle of beer, kelce handing one to rafe before giving you a glass cup full of a thick pink slush. “top made it for you since you’re too boujee for beer,” he joked while walking down the pool steps.

your brother joined the three of you in the water and took a quick sip of his drink. “i tried making that strawberry shit you liked in mexico,” he explained, waving his free hand around carelessly. “used vodka instead of rum though since you apparently don’t like that either.”

you laughed softly and thanked him as you listened in on the conversation kelce started up with rafe. except it was more of him just talking to anyone who cared to listen considering the others attention was elsewhere. the moment you glanced around the pool, your eyes met rafes. they hadn’t left you even for a second since you moved away from him.

— a few hours later

the house was now full of people. the scent of expensive cologne, alcohol, and a dull mix of sweat permeated the air and made your head spin slightly as you squeezed through the crowd and outside to the patio where more people were. lucky for you, the cooler full of what you needed was right beside the door.

you quickly reached down to grab a beer for sarah and a bottle of smirnoff pink lemonade. the moment you stood, a boy you recognized was standing at your side. “hey. you’re toppers sister, right?”

your brows furrowed as your eyes met his green ones. he was cute, you couldn’t lie but you were definitely caught off guard. “yeah,” you said wearily. “and you are?”

he chuckled softly and readjusted his stance to be a little more comfortable. “mike,” he stated. “we met once a little while ago at a party. i jus’ wanted to say you look really good tonight.”

a blush creeped across your cheeks and you smiled to yourself. “thank you,” you replied sheepishly. “you’re one of my brothers friends from school?”

he nodded and flashed a smile. “yeah, we met through our frat. we both happened to be rushing alone.”

you jokingly made a disgusted face and turned your head to look the other way. “whew. top always told me to stay away from frat boys. he says they’re dangerous.”

mike let out a hearty laugh. “not all of ‘em,” he said suggestively. “maybe come with me and find out?”

“i think shes gonna have to pass on that, dude. sorry,” you heard rafe chime in as he appeared next to you and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “actually, i just ran into your other girl inside. think she was lookin’ for you..”

you rolled your eyes and pushed yourself away from him. he didn’t get to dismiss you at one point then want you at another. “you’re ridiculous, rafe,” you said before squeezing past mike and pushing through the crowd to get up the stairs and to your room.

when you got inside, sarah was laying on her back in your bed scrolling through her phone. “finally. thought you got lost and i was gonna have to come down there and rescue you,” she joked playfully.

you handed her the beer and placed your own on the counter. “you should’ve. at least i wouldn’t have had to endure whatever that was down there,” you mumbled. “i’ll be right back. i need to use the bathroom really quick then we can get back to watching.”

as you left your room and shut the door behind you, you caught a glimpse of rafe coming up the stairs. you laughed angrily and headed towards the open door down the hall. “wait,” you heard him call out. you attempted to close the door, only for him to catch it before it clasped shut. “can you just talk to me?”

“can you stop being such a douche?” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. “what the hell was that out there? i was talking to someone. you don’t just get to pick and choose when you want to be with me. and you definitely have no right to just come in and get all protective over me.”

he sighed softly and stepped inside the bathroom with you, closing the door behind him. “with mike? really? he sleeps with everyone and jus’ moves on to another girl an hour later. trust me, you don’t want that.”

you could feel the rage bubbling deep in your stomach. he had some nerve. “what if i do? what makes you think you can tell me what i want and don’t want?”

“because i know you and i know you aren’t one to just sleep with someone random. what happened to that whole conversation about needing a connection with someone?” he questioned.

“were you also thinking about this when you kissed me?” you snapped back. “you do all these things to make me think you actually like me and then you just make me feel like an idiot the moment we’re in a crowd. you barely even talk to me when toppers around, rafe. i’m not gonna keep getting my feelings hurt over nothing.”

he shook his head and uncrossed you arms, taking your hands in his bigger ones. “i don’t wanna hurt your feelings, sweetheart. you know i wanna be with you. i just— i can’t do that to topper. he’s my best friend and—“

“then we can save the hassle and stop talking about this,” you interrupted. “you don’t get to get my hopes up anymore. i’m not doing it. its either you want to be with me or you don’t. if you really want to be with me, then you’d be willing to make sacrifices. do you really think i expect my brother to be completely okay with it? of course not. but i’m willing to work through that. if you’re not then theres no point in continuing this and you can leave.”

a frown spread across his lips and he looked down at his hands that were still holding yours, his thumb rubbing circles into the backside of your hand. “i wanna be with you, i really do. and i don’t wanna lose you over this,” he said softy. “can we just take things slow? i don’t care what topper thinks, i jus’ don’t want him to try to stop us from seeing each other.

you stared at him with a slight hesitation in your gaze. “how do i know you’re being serious? how do i know you’re not just gonna flake out on me again?”

he squeezed your hands a little tighter and took a step closer so there was only a couple inches between the two of you. “cause its always been you, sweetheart. you’re the only person i’ve ever felt this way about and i really, really don’t wanna lose you,” he explained. “i like you a lot. it scares the shit outta me but i’d rather do this with you than anyone else.”

you felt heat creep up your neck and onto your cheeks. “please don’t make me regret this, rafe.”

he smiled before moving one hand to cradle your jaw and the other to your waist. he pulled you close and placed a soft kiss to your lips, tilting his head slightly to deepen it as it went on. your arms wrapped around his neck and you arched your body just enough to press against him.

a muffled whimper left your lips when he squeezed gently at your hip and slipped his tongue into your mouth. you could feel your heart pound in your chest. you’d never gone this far. fortunately he was taking it slow though and allowing you time to mimic his movements.

too caught up in the moment, you didn’t even hear the door open. “what the fuck?”

[kiyoomiee]

Your bestfriend, Yuuji’s older half-brother Sukuna, who always had this grudge towards you and you can’t pinpoint why.

You first met him during summer break. Your couldn’t keep up with your dorm fees anymore and happened to mention it to Yuuji one time.

“You could stay with me! I have a spare room nobody’s using.”

“Are you sure Yuuji? I don’t want to impose on you.”

“Of course I’m sure. You don’t even have to pay rent or anything.”

A home that’s close to uni and has no fees? It was heaven sent for a broke college student!

“That’s the last of them. Thank you Yuuji, I really appreciate the help. If there’s anything I could do around here just let me know.” You told him after dropping your stacking your last moving box into your new room.

“No problem. Just a heads up though, my brother also lives with me. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure, it’s fine with me.” Your famous last words.

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

“Sukuna can be..difficult sometimes. But it’d be nice if you two would be friends. If not, ehh, just avoid him if you can.”

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

To say that Sukuna had a bad day at the tattoo shop was an understatement. His new assistant never arrived, he was dealing with a shit client plus, his ink almost ran out.

His frustration echoed throughout the two-storey house when he slammed the front door shut.

He was confused by the smell coming from the kitchen as he walked in. Is Yuuji cooking? Nah, his idiot brother would burn the house down if he even tried to get near the kitchen.

Instead, he finds a woman’s figure busy behind the kitchen counter. It made him stop his tracks.

Beautiful, he thought. But too young for Sukuna’s taste. Plus, he doesn’t like it when a stranger touches his favorite spot in the house.

So great, his bad day is about to become worse.

“Who. The. Fuck. Are you?” You almost screamed when your eyes went to the man that appeared behind you.

He looked similar to Yuuji, but the aura was very different. His build was larger, jaw sharper, and he had looked furious.

Oh, he must be Yuuji’s brother, Sukuna. You tensed up unintentionally while his eyes wandered on what you’re wearing.

“You one of Yuuji’s girls? I told him not to bring his hookups here.” He uttered, eyes not leaving yours.

You wore a tank top with cotton pajama shorts. You looked too comfortable just to be visiting.

“No! I-I’m Yuuji’s friend. It’s nice to meet you.” You said nervously.

“Can’t say the same sweetheart. I’m not so fond of strangers in my house. So open the front door and walk outside.”

What? Is he kicking you out?

“Wait! Yuuji didn’t tell you? He allowed me to stay at the spare room down the hall.”

“He what?” Sukuna was fuming. Every step he took closer to you looked like he was going to eat you alive.

“YUUJI!” His voice thundered all over the house.

“I-I think he’s sleeping in his room.” You winced at the string of curses that came out of his mouth.

“Whatever conversation you had with my dumb brother, it’s not happening. You can’t stay here.”

“But it’s the start of the semester, I can’t find a new dorm in a snap!”

“You shouting at me, girl?”

“N-No, I mean-just please, I can take care of the house. I can even cook for you. I can’t afford to leave, not right now.”

Before Sukuna could open his mouth, Yuuji’s footsteps rang out from the stairs.

“Sukuna, you’re back! Wait, did something happen?” Yuuji looks at your nervous face.

“Yeah we’ve met alright.” Sukuna muttered, arms crossing to his chest.

“Yuuji, your brother’s kicking me out.” You tried to hide behind Yuuji’s form.

“What? You can’t kick her out!”

“I can because it’s my goddamn house. If don’t want some girl in here, she’s got to go.”

“You can’t! To be fair, I did tell you that my friend’s staying with us for a while and you agreed.”

Yeah he did agree but he thought that black haired kid was moving in, not you.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Sukuna exclaimed and you could tell he’s about to lose it.

“I’ll stay out of your way all the time, I promise. You won’t even notice I’m here.” You pleaded him.

“Yeah, I doubt that. Clean up your damn mess.” He said harshly and glared at you before stomping his way upstairs.

“I’m so sorry. My brother’s not so good at making first impressions.” Yuuji pouted.

He’s an asshole, you wanted to say.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad he didn’t kick me out.” You exhaled in relief.

If that was his reaction during your first meeting then what about the upcoming months?

“He won’t. I’m sure you’ll grow on him, you kinda have that effect on people.” Yuuji tried to cheer you up but you just gave him a faint smile.

Yeah, somehow you doubt that would work on Sukuna.

——————————————————

note: Sukuna is 29 in this fic and your age gap is 6 years. I don’t like doing age gap with minors, so just think that everyone in this fic are 18+.

[sceletaflores]

back on this because i’m still so distraught. when will the academy start recognizing horror for the award winning genre that it IS!!! you’ve only had 96 whole years to get your heads out of your asses…

oscars stop being so lame challenge!

demi moore robbed. coralie fargeat robbed. the substance was so robbed tonight. don’t hmu.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Never ending song - Sirius Black

summary: rockstar!reader - when your parents divorce, you decide to move to london to finish your last year of school, and take your music career there with you. what happens when you meet another pureblood rebel named sirius black. wc: 7.3k+ a/n: funnily enough this whole concept was inspired by The Ballad of the Witches Road from agatha all along being a protection spell.

WITCHES WEEKLY

In a twisting turn of events, rockstar y/n l/n ditches her parents amongst their divorce to move to London with her aunt.

A new light has been shed on rockstar y/n l/n since the beginning of her parents’ divorce. The singer songwriter, famously known for her most recent album “Heart of Chaos” was seen in court this week, finally showing her vulnerable side to the public, contrary to the heartthrob persona she usually puts on.

Her parents, two world renowned aurors have reportedly called it quits after more than twenty years together, and this week in another court hearing, a shocking event took place. When young adult y/n was asked by the court which of her guardians she would like to live with, the two parents broke out into an argument, causing the rockstar to have an astounding outburst. “Shut up! Shut up! I don’t want to live with either of you — I mean just look at you. One of you has a drinking problem so bad you shouldn’t be allowed to work and the other works so much and is so controlling and insensitive that living alone would be better than living with you!” The unfolding truth about her father’s drinking problem has opened a new case which could potentially cost him his license as an auror.

L/n’s aunt, her godmother, lives in a remote area in London, and owns a very successful boutique in Diagon Alley, one of the most popular magical villages in the UK. The guardian was brought into court this Friday, and the judge confirmed that y/n would be living with her aunt until she becomes a legal adult, in which case the choice of her living situation will be up to her.

This means that for her last year of school, the popular singer-songwriter will be quitting her studies at the Ilvermorny Institute of Magic to begin a new journey after the Christmas holidays at the hight ranked school of magic in the world: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The real question is: what will this mean for her musical career? Will she change record labels, or go independent?

Sirius’s jaw went slack, the tea he had previously sipped dribbling out of his open mouth and onto the newspaper in front of him. He frantically wiped away at the liquid, muttering a “No way” under his breath. “Padfoot that was absolutely disgusting” Remus commented, throwing a napkin at Sirius’s face. James laughed, rearranging the glasses balancing on his nose, but Sirius quickly interrupted him. “No, no, look at this!” He exclaimed, shoving the paper into James’s unprepared hands. Lily and Remus, sat on either side of the quidditch player, leaned closer to James, reading the paper over each shoulder.

“Oh hey, isn’t she the girl whose music you’re obsessed with?” Lily pointed out, finger resting on the moving image of you in court, shaking your head disappointedly at your parents. Sirius nodded frantically, snatching the paper back from his friends. “The popular singer-songwriter will be quitting her studies at the Ilvermorny Institute of Magic to begin a new journey after the Christmas holidays at the highest ranked school of magic in the world: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Sirius read out, a look of excitement on his face. “This is great!”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

“This is terrible.” You muttered two weeks later, arranging the tie adorning your neck. “I feel like I should have thought things out a little more before deciding to move halfway through my last year of school, right?” Your aunt laughed, shaking her head from where she sat on your bed across from you. “Hogwarts is great, and I’m sure you’ll be a lot happier here than you were before.” You got off your bed, kneeling down to finally close your suitcase. “I hope so. I just wish they have something about spells in song. It’s my favourite thing to learn about.” Your aunt hummed, helping you up from the floor and rearranging the tie on your chest. “Well, the student can always become the teacher.” She mumbled with a smile. “Now don’t forget your jumper, you’re on the brink of missing your train.” You jumped up, grabbing said jumper alongside your suitcase and guitar case, ready to apparate to the station.

The station, bustling with magical activity, screamed of students excited to return to Hogwarts, with magical firecrackers flying across the platform and chocolate frogs escaping their packaging. Parents cuddled up nostalgically, remembering the first time they’d dropped their children off here.

Platform 9 ¾.

You sighed, turning towards your godmother for the last time before you’d leave her until the summer. Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug. Shutting your eyes tightly to savour the quick moment with her, you were interrupted by a bright flashing light in your direction. All too familiar to the feeling, your eyes snapped open, exposing the reporter and her cameraman in front of you. You glared at the pair of them, letting go of your aunt’s hug to flash her one last smile and a loving “Bye bye” before rushing onto the train, where you know the journalist wouldn’t dare follow you.

"Rockstar y/n l/n shares tearful goodbyes with her godmother before hopping on the Hogwarts Express to mark the beginning of her witchcraft journey in the UK. Will she receive the same praise in the land of the Brits as in the United States, or will her career fall short? It’s difficult to tell if the new audience will boost her sales due to its new exposure to her music, or if the teenagers of the UK will find l/n unrelatable. Only time will tell…"

The whistle of the train had you jolting awake in your seat, looking around the empty compartment to make sense of your surroundings. Sighing, you blinked the fatigue away, observing the figures crowding the hallway of the train. You followed the pack’s movements, gathering your suitcase just in time for the train to come to a halt, wheels screeching on the tracks as it settled on the platform, the door to the compartment slamming open. “Newbie, I’m guessing?” You spun on your heels, eyeing the boy in front of you wearing green robes. “What gave it away?” He chuckled, nodding towards your suitcase. “Leave your stuff on the train.” You eyed him wearily, gaze wandering down the hallway to see if he was trying to fool you. Alas, none of the other students carried their luggage with them. Cautiously, you lifted your suitcase onto the seats next to you, deciding to trust the stranger.

The boy stuck his hand out in front of him, a strand of blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. “Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy.” You shook his hand with a thankful smile, introducing yourself to the pureblood. It didn’t take long for you to notice the newspaper Malfoy carried under his armpit, making the carriage ride up to the castle uncomfortable, realisation of his previous knowledge of you dawning on you. At the glimpse of your smiling face in the paper, you wondered how they represented you today.

Were you the snobby pureblooded princess who threw away everything her parents did for her, or the poor, vulnerable teenager whose parents abandoned in the midst of their hatred for the other?

The castle was impressive, more so than Ilvermorny had been, you noted as you stepped foot in the entrance hall. You weren’t surprised that Malfoy immediately left your side, catching a snippet of the remark he made to his friend who met him in the hall, beginning with “Mate, you’ll never guess who…” Instead, you allowed yourself to be whisked away by a tall, intimidating woman who suddenly appeared in front of you, summoning you with an ominous call of your name. You followed the nameless woman down the halls of Hogwarts until you stopped in front of two open double doors, tall enough to reach the high ceilings of the castle. The Great Hall was full of students, some of which were still taking their seats at their designated tables. You felt as though every single pair of eyes in the hall turned to look at you as you stood in the entryway. The view was somewhat more intimidating than your largest selling concert, despite the decrease in number of people.

Gulping, you let your gaze wander to the man sat at the centre of the teacher’s table, returning his steady stare. Albus Dumbledore. You’d read books about him; his problematic backstory and the people’s tendencies to forgive and forget. Here he stood now, in charge of the next generation of wizards. You watched as he stood up, booming voice echoing in the hall as he gathered the students’ attention.

From the Gryffindor table, Sirius elbowed James, innocently sat next to him, desperately waiting for dinner after a rigorous snow fight with the other marauders. James hissed, turning towards Sirius, who redirected his gaze towards the doors of the Great Hall, where you stood.

“Mate she looks scary.” James muttered, eyes glued to your fixated glare, your overconfident posture, your perfectly manicured nails. “Yeah.” Sirius sighed in amazement.

Ironically enough, your composure communicated the exact opposite of what you were feeling. You had to consciously keep the muscles in your legs flexed otherwise you were sure they’d be seen shaking from the other end of the hall. You kept your hands flat against the sides of your thighs to ensure you didn’t nervously fiddle with anything, only moving your hand to flick your hair over your shoulder because it was itching the side of your neck uncomfortably. “Oh she thinks she’s so much better than us.” Sirius heard a girl mumble further down the table, watching as your beautiful hair was swept behind your shoulder.

“Students of Hogwarts!” Dumbledore began, silencing everyone in the hall. “Welcome back! I hope you’ve had a wonderful winter holiday. As I’m sure many of you have heard, we are starting the new year with a new student to join our community of witches and wizards. To welcome her, she needs to go through the rite of passage that every student here at Hogwarts has gone through. Miss L/N, would you please step up to be sorted into your Hogwarts house?”

“You’re joking.”

The hall erupted in laughter at your comment, which had come out much louder than you’d intended, and Sirius heard the girl who’d previously made a comment on you now say “Never mind, she’s so right about that.” Your head snapped to the tall Professor next to you, eyes desperately looking for her to tell you that Dumbledore was, in fact, just joking. However, she only smiled sympathetically at you, putting a hand on your shoulder to softly nudge you down the hall. In an attempt to ignore the eyes following each step you took, you observed the different tables around you. Blue, red, green and yellow. God, you didn’t care where you were put as long as it wasn’t the yellow one. That colour didn’t go with any of your clothes.

Your heels echoed on the stairs, and you almost rolled your eyes at the sight of the stool placed in the centre of the platform. It was too cliché. You sat down, folding one leg over the other before the same old Professor approached you, this time carrying an old, filthy hat. You returned your gaze to the rest of the hall, watching each pair of eyes scan your body before your vision was stolen, and you welcomed the darkness. The sorting hat was heavy on your head, and a few sizes too big, you realised, feeling the tickle of the hat’s rim against your nose.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, I know just where you should go.” What the fuck? “Oh give me a break, I’m just trying to make this a little fun.” Fun? The hat’s raspy voice echoed in your mind, and you almost fell into a trance as it scanned through all your memories. Like a movie, a certain memory displayed itself in your brain, your very own voice echoing in your head. “Shut up! Shut up! I don’t want to live with either of you!” “Mhm, confrontational, rebellious.” The hat murmured in your mind before ultimately yelling out:

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Sirius was the first one on his feet, cheering you on as you made your way down the steps and towards the table. He tried hiding his disappointment when you were whisked away by a group of girls in his year group towards the front of the table, greeting you with welcoming smiles. Halfway through dinner, Lily had to scold him for how often he glanced your way.

On the way back to the common room, Sirius sped up, trying to catch up with you while dragging James and Remus with him by the wrists. The crowded hallways were the cause of Sirius's lack of success, and he huffed loudly when he couldn’t manage to slip past someone, the gap between you and him increasing as people pushed past him. When he finally made his way through the Fat Lady’s portrait, he grinned widely, eyes scanning the cozy common room, only for the smile to fall from his face when he couldn’t spot you in any of the seventh year students’ usual spots.

He was too late; you’d already been whisked away to your dorm.

It was only a week later that he’d managed to finally speak to you, despite sharing most classes with you. Mary and Marlene had clearly become close to you, and you’d even gotten to meet Lily, but Sirius? Well, you had no idea who he was.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

Sirius, Remus and James were late to class. They had been doing so well with being on time and avoiding useless detentions, a resolution they had made together for the new year. They rounded the corner of the hallway, panting loudly as they ran, trying to catch the stairs before they shifted again, which would inevitably make them even later.

You sat on the stairs with a bored expression, leaning your chin on your hand, your bag on the floor next to you. You had gotten here a few minutes ago, and just like the three marauders, had missed the stairs. Loud groans pulled you out of your train of thoughts, looking up to see where the voice had come from to find three boys your age — the marauders. They were all panting: Remus had his hands on his hips, head thrown back to catch his breath, and James had crouched down, leaning his head on the stair’s railing. “You alright?” The mysterious boy caught your attention. He stood nearly directly behind you and had long curly hair and a sweet smile, though his eyebrows were pulled together in concern at the sight of you sat alone on the stairs. Just like his other two friends, his chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath, cheeks slightly rosy. You nodded softly “Yeah, gave up trying to find my way to class ten minutes ago.” Sirius chuckled, moving to sit down next to you. You could hear his heavy breathing, but he still asked “What class do you have next?”

Sirius knew what class you had next.

You had transfigurations, same as him. But you hadn’t noticed that you shared the class with the boy, unlike him, who had internally cheered when you first walked into the transfigurations classroom. “Transfigurations. Marlene gave me a tour of this whole place like a week ago but I still can’t get my head wrapped around it.”

“You let Marlene give you a tour?” Remus’s voice suddenly sprung up, causing you to look at Sirius in confusion. He felt his heart surge as he realised you were looking at him to clarify. You had instantly chosen to trust him. “Was I not supposed to?” Sirius shrugged with a smile, “She’s just not the most… knowledgeable person of the castle. She still gets lost getting from the common room to the Great Hall sometimes.” Your laugh surprised him, and you reached a hand out to him, saying “I’m y/n, by the way.” Sirius’s grin widened impossibly as he shook your hand, introducing himself and the marauders behind him.

“Well, we’ll walk you to class. We’ve got McGonagall too.” You shook your head at Sirius’s offer, pushing yourself off the ground to stand up. “No way I’m going class 15 minutes late. I’m not waiting to be humiliated in front of a full class of people who probably already know who I am.”

“Fair enough.” Sirius stated, mimicking your movements. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye. “I take it you know who I am then?” Sirius’s cheeks darkened, but he didn’t let the exposure humiliate him. You’d think he was pathetic. He puffed his chest out confidently. “You could say I’m an avid enjoyer of your music. But that doesn’t make you any different to the next guy.” With the smile that blossomed on your face, someone would have thought that Sirius gave you the most flattering compliment. “Okay, good to know, Mr. Sirius.”

“Black.” He added, “Sirius Black.” Your eyes widened slightly at the name. Pureblood, you noted. One of the sacred 28. You both looked at each other with acknowledgment. He knew who you were, and you knew who he was. You took the silent moment to take in his features: striking silver jewellery on his fingers and around his neck, you spotted tattoos creeping up the collar of his uniform. A rebel. As his eyes bore into yours, you instantly knew there was a mutual understanding between you. And without another word, you were turning the corner to the next hallway and disappearing from Sirius’s sight until the evening came.

You lingered at the bottom of the stairwell to the girls’ dormitories, debating on making an approach or not. You liked Sirius. He obviously related to the parental pressure, and didn’t care too much about you no matter how much he liked your music. And he had style. Realistically, it was also about time to make friends other than your dorm-mates and their one friend. You imagined that no matter what happened, it wouldn’t be worse than your interaction with Malfoy. “Sorry.” You muttered, moving away from the staircase to let some girls make their way up to their dorms.

Feeling the girls look back at you, you mustered the courage you had to stroll across the common room towards where Sirius sat with his intimidating group of friends. The group turned their attention to you as you approached them, and you ignored the nerves building up in your gut, instead saying “Hey”, though it was mainly pointed towards Sirius. The boy was already making space for you to sit down next to him before you had the chance to ask. You were grateful when the others around you carried on with their conversations, turning towards Sirius. “Hey Sirius, do you know if there’s an extracurricular or something about spells in song?” The boy in front of you furrowed his eyebrows as though he had never heard of the concept before, and you knew that was a bad sign.

“You know, like when protection or love spells are, like, weaved into music?” Sirius straightened up in front of you, whisper yelling “What? Wait, do you do that with your songs?” You felt your face heat up and leaned back into the cushiony couch. “Kind of. I’m trying — learning.”

Unfortunately, Sirius had let you know that he hadn’t heard of such thing in the castle. In fact, he didn’t think that spells in song was a concept known between wizard and witches in the UK. That would be something you’d have to change. However, he was kind enough to lead you to the library, where he insisted on staying with you to find all your books on the subject so that you’d have someone to guide you back to the common room. It was so that you wouldn’t get lost again, obviously.

The library didn’t seem to have much on the topic, despite its grand size. You sighed, putting the books you’d found on the table in front of you. Your aunt seemed to stand correct, the student was becoming the teacher. Sirius sat patiently at the table, watching you ponder silently for a moment. You opened the first book, scanning its table of contents, before shutting it closed again. “This isn’t going to work.” You mumbled, putting both hands on your hips. You chose one of the textbooks at random, shoving it in your bag and gesturing for Sirius to follow you. You trotted out of the library, ignoring Sirius’s claim that you had to sign the book out. “I’m just borrowing it!” You exclaimed, taking the first flight of stairs up. Sirius had trouble catching up with you, and was quickly lured into a hallway he didn’t recognise. A hallway on the fifth floor.

“What are we doing up here?” He asked, breathing heavily. You ignored his question, instead whispering under your breath “Where is it?” Sirius matched your pace as you came to a slow walk, pacing in circles around the same pillar. “I swear it was here.” “What was here?” Sirius asked, watching you. But his question was quickly answered for him when a big wooden door appeared on the empty wall in front of you both. Matching gasps left your lips, and Sirius cautiously watched as you walked up to the door, placing a hand on its peeling paint. “The music room.” You mumbled, finally pushing the door open.

Sirius followed you through the wooden door, jumping slightly when it slammed close behind him. His breath had been taken away. The room was enormous. It had a stage with a grand piano and several percussion and string instruments littered around the room. There were even muggle microphones, which he knew you often used in concerts, contrary to the normal amplification spell.

In all seven years at Hogwarts, Sirius and the marauders had restlessly tried looking for this room: the room of Come and Go. They had read about it, doubting its existence after years of failure. And here you were, not even three weeks into your time at Hogwarts, and you had found it. “This isn’t a music room,” Sirius started, looking around. Your footsteps came to a halt, and you spun around to face him with your eyebrows raised. “This is the room of requirements. I never thought I'd live to see it.” Sirius returned his attention to you, a glint in his eyes like he was eleven, seeing Honeydukes for the first time. He’d have to take you there one day.

“It gives you a room you want the most. And you… You really want somewhere to play your music.” He guessed, eyes filled with empathy. You hummed. “Not just play. Write, compose. Sing too loud sometimes and embarrass myself.” Sirius laughed, and you joined in until a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. You spun on your feet and ran towards the stage, putting your hands on the floor of the stage and jumping so you could roll onto the elevated surface. Sirius followed you, equal ecstasy in his movements. Sirius sighed, staying laid down on the ground.

You grinned down at Sirius, a microphone now in your hand, and asked “Do you play any instruments, Mr. Black?” Sirius’s cheeks bloomed with a bright blush, and he sat up straight, shyly muttered “I play the piano.” You laughed, nodding at his words “Okay, I see. Pureblood parents force you to play? Let me guess, you have a sibling and they play the violin.” Sirius scoffed, muttering “Shut up” as he stood up, though his bold smile didn’t budge.

“I have skills. I’ll show you.” You hummed, unconvinced, watching as Sirius sat down in front of the grand piano, fingers skillfully resting on the keys. His fingers danced across the keys, and despite the years it’s been since he’s touched the instrument, he didn’t make a single mistake, shutting his eyes as he let the music flow through his veins. Sirius opened his eyes to glance up at you, and when he spotted the mesmerised smile on your face, he felt his fingers press all the wrong keys, causing an unpleasant sound to fill the room. “Sorry!” You both cried out, and Sirius furrowed his eyebrows at you. “I distracted you, I didn’t mean to.” Sirius shook his head, gesturing a hand towards you. “It’s your turn now.”

You and Sirius spent all night in the room of requirements, playing music and trying to teach him how to play the guitar. He took a particular interest in the electric one, which you immediately thought suited him. He was more than just a piano player. Sirius was a rockstar, whether he knew it yet or not.

“So tell me about this spell in song thing.” Sirius brought up after a long break from music. You had just returned from the kitchens, thankfully not too far from this hidden room, and had only narrowly missed some Professor who was doing their rounds. “Well, from what I’ve learned, you can either make the music to a song a spell, so that when the instruments are played together, a spell is cast. Or it could be the lyrics that are the spell. The difference between that and a normal spell is that the lyrics are real words, but our spells that we cast as witches and wizards are mostly latin. Never the spoken language that we use. But then it gets complicated, because if someone wants to replicate the spell, everything has to be the same. Each note, each harmony. Otherwise, the spell risks being a curse.”

Sirius was silent. He didn’t even have any questions. “Have you heard of the Ballad of the Witches’ Road?” You asked, and the boy nodded “You recorded your own version of it.” You grinned, nodding eagerly. “Well, the song was written centuries ago — no one knows by who or where it was written, but it became crazy popular. The original song wasn’t a spell, but then each version of it that was created afterwards had its own different spell. The sacred chant version uses the chant itself as the spell, but in the version that is most popular now, the guitar solo is a protection spell. I don’t know how it works, I really don’t.” Sirius’s mouth was gaped open, a silent question lingering in the air, but you refused to answer it if he didn't explicitly ask you. “And in your version?”

You cleared your throat, looking down at the guitar in front of you. “In my version, my voice is a love spell. I played it to my parents in hopes that they would fall back in love. Clearly, it didn’t work.”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

Over the next couple of weeks, you’d decided that you’d asked Sirius to come up with you to your music room too often. You were being a burden. If he wanted to come with you, he could always ask. You’d grown fond of the boy, and even his friends, though you never asked to sit with them. At breakfast, Sirius would wave you over, and you’d happily sit next to him, smiling and nodding along to the conversation, only ever speaking if a question was directed towards you.

In lessons, you’d sit and write song lyrics in a note book you took with you everywhere, and Professors loved to target you with bombardments of questions. You’d shut your book, tilt your head to the side and flawlessly answer every question thrown at you. They hated it, but it made Sirius smile. He was lucky that while people admired you in the hallways, he could call out your name, jog up next to you and hold enjoyable conversations with you. He even ditched his friends to go to Hogsmeade with you. When he’d asked you to come with the group, you stared at your hands, declining his offer respectfully.

“How about just us, then?”

“Sirius, you don’t have to ditch your friends for me.”

“But you are my friend.”

It hadn’t been a very successful outing, despite you and Sirius having a wonderful time. He took you to Honeydukes and smiled at the amazed expression on your face when you gasped. You dragged him over to the music store and signed a record of your album a young girl was buying. But when you both finally decided it was time to cozy up with a butterbeer, arms linked together, you met unpleasant company at the door of the three broomsticks.

Years of experience allowed you to spot reporters and journalists from a mile away. You stopped in your tracks, pulling Sirius back by the arm you had hooked with yours. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He had asked, following your line of sight. “Sirius, those are-” But it was too late, because they had finally seen you. The lady immediately sped towards you with a list of questions she was ready to ask whilst the man next to her pulled out an expensive camera and immediately started taking photos, the flash blinding you each time it went off. Sirius instantly tried shielding you from the pair, his hand slipping into yours so you wouldn’t lose him. Sirius dragged you into the popular pub, and by magic, Madame Rosemerta appeared and locked the door before the reporters could enter.

Sirius had immediately asked you if you were okay, but his question was drowned out by laughs coming from the other side of the pub. It was the same blond boy who had met you on the train, with his insolent group of friends who were joking about the encounter. Well, now you knew exactly who had ratted you out to the reporters. “Here, sweetheart.” Had said Sirius as he offered you a fresh butterbeer, but your mood had already been spoiled, and all you wanted to do was return to the castle.

“Look, Sirius, you’re wonderful, and I’ve had so much fun but-” your consistent glances towards the door had given what you wanted to say away, and Sirius nodded again. “Hey, I’ll walk back with you, okay?” Thankfully, the reporters were already gone by the time you left the pub, and you dug around in your pocket to pay Sirius for the butterbeer. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He had said, rejecting your two silver sickles.

Once in the castle once more, you hid in your dorm for the rest of the day, dreading the headline that would be on the papers tomorrow. Maybe they would scare Sirius away and he’ll stop spending time with you. Fuck, that would be the worst thing to ever happen to you, you thought, digging your head into your pillow.

You were very aware of your blooming feelings towards the curly-headed boy. In fact, every time you sat alone, or even in a lesson, and picked up a pencil, the only song lyrics you could thing about writing were about him. He invaded your mind, and usually, you wouldn’t complain about having some inspiration, but now? Well, you liked him so much you wanted him to collaborate on your music with you, to sing and to play with you. But you couldn’t do that if every single song you wrote was about falling head over heels for him.

Downstairs in the common room, Sirius was clenching his fists over the incident with the reporter. He went on about how you’d had so much fun together, all for it to be ruined by a two-minute encounter. “That shouldn’t happen to anyone! Fuck, I swear I’ll beat Malfoy up.” He said to his friends, letting his head fall back on the couch. James looked at him empathetically, but after a moment of silence, he shot a look to the other marauder who sat across from them, an idea suddenly popping up in his mind. Remus was already holding a quill in hand, parchment laid out in front of him.

“Hey, instead of beating that blond bitch up, how about we do something worse?”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

THE DAILY PROPHET

Heart of Chaos? More like heart of romance!

The young rockstar y/n l/n was seen cozying up with pureblood rebel Sirius Black at Hogsmeade on Sunday. As seen in the image, the couple was very physically close to each other, making fans wonder what is going on behind closed doors. Though we only have limited information on the topic, an anonymous source at Hogwarts has revealed to us this piece of information:

“Sirius Black is the only person she’ll speak to. Everyone is so welcoming to her, but she either spends time alone writing things, or she spends time with him. He’s probably the inspiration for her new album. I mean, you know how it is, the girl’s last album was literally called ‘Heart of Chaos’! All she does is probably write about boys!”

Everyone’s eyes were on you on Monday during breakfast, watching as you read the article about your so called love life. The worst part of the article wasn’t the assumption that you and Sirius were together, or that you were having sex ‘behind closed doors’. No, it was the assumption that your last album had been about boys when it had truly been about broken trust and personal healing. Hence, the Heart of Chaos.

Sirius noticed you hadn’t had anything to eat for breakfast, so when he saw you abruptly stand up, he pocketed an apple to bring to you later. He just hoped that Malfoy came down for breakfast before you left.

And indeed, an unrecognisable Lucius Malfoy ran down to the Great Hall just as you turned to face the entrance. Loud gasps and laughter was heard instantly at the sight of the disheveled teenager. Lucius had been transformed into your number one fan. His face had been made up for him to resemble a rock fan. A big, glittery, red star was painted around his eye, the other one sporting bold eyeshadow and liner. He wore heavy lashes that he couldn't tear off, and the best bit? Every single piece of clothing in the boy’s closet had been turned into merchandise you recently launched to promote your tour beginning this summer. In a desperate attempt to appear anywhere near normal, Lucius had begged Evan to lend him clothes, but the second he pulled the uniform on, it had also been transfigured into more merch.

“What have you done to me!?” He screamed over the laughter, marching over to the Gryffindor table, his gaze fixed on the marauders. You took confident strides towards Lucius until you stood right in front of him, blocking his route towards the three boys. The hall went silent when you put your hands on your hips, everyone listening closely to what you had to say. “And for the record, Malfoy, my last album wasn’t about boys, which I thought you might know considering you have been so far up my ass recently, you could practically see what I had for dinner last night.” You walked away from Malfoy as he stood in the middle of the Great Hall, an embarrassed flush on his face.

“Don’t worry,” Announced Sirius, standing up and beginning to follow you. “It wears off after 72 hours… I think.”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

Sirius was only able to find you a few hours later in the room of requirements, separated by clashing schedules. Sirius pulled the apple out of his pocket, offering it to you when he finally reached you. “Didn’t see you eat this morning.” You jumped at the sound of Sirius’s voice, a wide smile on our face as you shut your book, pushing it aside and making space for Sirius next to you. When Sirius sat, he wasn’t expecting you to throw your arms around him, engulfing him in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You mumbled into the crook of his neck. “Hey, why should you be embarrassed for something he did? Also, I’ve got to say your comment was beautiful.” “What, about him seeing my dinner?” Sirius laughed as you let go of him, throwing an arm around you and tugging you in closer to him.

“So, it doesn’t change anything for you?” You whispered to him, afraid of his response. “Why would a little gossipy article change anything for me? Whatever this is, it doesn’t need a reporter to put labels on it. So, tell me what you’re working on.” “I- just a song.” Sirius heard the wobble in your voice, but decided not to ask about it, watching as you wiped at your eyes. “Um, a song I actually wanted you to sing.” Sirius made a sound of surprise in his throat. “Love, you know I don’t sing.” Your laugh surprised him. “Yes you do, you just don’t know it yet.”

Sirius watched as you jumped up from your place on the couch “This song is a little different to what I usually write and perform.” You told him, pulling out your wand and grabbing the sheets of music from the table. You muttered a spell, enchanting each instrument to play its own part before you finally grabbed your electric guitar and lyric sheet.

The second your fingers strummed the guitar, all the instruments came to life in a melody that Sirius instantly knew would change the world as you knew it. Then, you began singing the lyrics, your voice as light as an angel for a tune that didn’t match it.

“I wanted to be with you alone

And talk about the weather,”

And Sirius was instantly in love. Not that he hadn’t been before, no. Sirius had realised that meeting his heroes wasn’t always a bad thing since he sat down with you in the middle of a staircase. You’d looked at him with angel eyes, looking to him for comfort when speaking to his other friends. Sirius was lost in a trance as you observed him now as you sang, watching for each and every reaction. You cleared your throat nervously when you got to the chorus.

“Something happens and I'm head over heels

I never find out until I'm head over heels

Something happens and I'm head over heels

Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart

Don't, don't, don't throw it away”

Sirius’s mouth was agape. He pieced the song together, you figured. He stood up from his spot, walking over to you and putting his hands on your guitar. The second you stopped playing, the rest of the instruments died down too, putting an end to your never ending song. You let Sirius take your guitar from you, passing the thick strap over your head so he could put it to the side. “You want me to sing it?” Sirius whispered, his face mere inches away from yours. You nodded “Can only imagine it in your voice.”

“You know, it's fitting, because I really am head over heels for you.” You gasped at Sirius’s words, moving your gaze down to your feet but his hand was already at your chin, gently pushing your chin up so you could meet his eyes again. “I really wanted to kiss you in the great hall today.” You muttered, and Sirius grinned. “So did I. I love myself a woman who will stand up for herself.” “So you’ll sing the song?”

“How about you let me get that kiss first?” You felt your cheeks get hot as Sirius leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your hands immediately gripped his crinkled uniform shirt, pulling his chest flat against yours. He moved a hand to the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he slid his tongue in your mouth. You pressed yourself onto your tippy toes, but just as you wrapped your arms around Sirius’s shoulders, he broke the kiss, saying with a wide grin “How about you teach me this song, yeah?”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

WIZARDS WEEKLY

Y/N L/N has begun her ‘Heart of Chaos: World Tour’, and fans were not surprised to see who she brought on stage.

Rumours of the singer-songwriter’s romance with Sirius Black started when she first moved to England to live with her aunt. The couple were spotted in Scotland’s very own Hogsmeade village, near the Hogwarts castle. Those rumours started around February 1978, and it is now September. The rockstar’s first show of the year-long tour was last night on June 10th, and fans went absolutely crazy. To open her second set l/n brought Sirius Black, her rumoured boyfriend, on stage with her, and they sang their newest collaborative song ‘Head over Heels’.

In a recent interview, l/n shared that her tour would be the start of something big, and it seems as though ‘Head over Heels’ is the beginning of that. The singer said that whilst she wrote and produced the entire song and its music, she felt as though the song would be perfect for someone else — that someone whom we now know is Sirius Black. However, when the pair of wizards sang ‘Head over Heels’ together, a strange phenomenon occurred. It seemed as though people in the audience became calmer, and there was more than one instance of people kissing during the audience. Whilst this isn’t exactly odd during concerts, our reporters noticed that this only occurred during the one song, and nowhere else in the show.

Experts are theorising that y/n l/n isn’t only one of the most talented artists of this new generation, but one of the most powerful witches too, embedding spells in songs, for instance, a love spell in 'Head over Heels'. This is often seen in music in North America, however l/n is introducing it to the rest of the world for the first time.

Sirius Black stayed with her on stage for the rest of the show, singing background vocals and playing the electric guitar to create the most magical duet people have witnessed in a long time. At the end of the show, they confirmed the old rumours started by an anonymous source, sharing a passionate kiss on stage in front of thousands upon thousands of fans. l/n revealed what the tour was starting — or rather ending, during the final moments of her first show of the ‘Heart of Chaos: World Tour’.

This tour would be her last as a solo artist.

At the end of the tour, she will be joining a group called ‘Marauders of Mischief’, in which her boyfriend Sirius Black will be the lead guitarist. l/n and Black revealed to us that the other three members of the band would be Remus Lupin, James Potter and Marlene McKinnon, all of whom l/n met whilst she studied at Hogwarts for less than a year. When asked in an interview about how this band was formed, l/n opened up about a lot of details.

Y/N L/N: Truly, I didn’t speak to Remus, James or Marls much when I was at Hogwarts. But towards the end of the year, I opened up more, and when they discovered that Sirius and I were writing music together, they showed an interest. We spent a day in the music room together, and we instantly knew that we were forming a band. And James’s lovely fiancé, one of my best friends, Lily Evans is our manager, and you know, it’s the six of us against the world. I don’t want to spoil too much, but since I’ve become an independent artist, they’ve been helping me — and Sirius — out with this tour. So they’re on tour with us right now as our sort of ‘backstage team’ which means that we get to spend every day together. And that means we’ve spent a lot of time writing and producing music. So, stay tuned for what we release.

Coming circa 1979.

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @friedfreyfries, @azure-drag0ness

divider by @v6que

[gloomwitchwrites]

I’m obsessed with everything you post. 141 with a reader who’s social skills aren’t the best and sometimes they end up oversharing

Thank you!! I can absolutely drop a few little hcs about each of them!

written w/ gn!reader

John Price

Loves being with you because he can’t stand long periods of silence.

The sound of your voice is soothing to him, and he’d rather listen to you chat him up about anything and everything instead of living in his head.

Never mocks you or acts annoyed when you overshare.

If anyone makes an unpleasant comment about you, John is quick to shut them down.

Understands that sometimes you overshare due to not picking up on social cues and situations. He’s good about diverting the conversation subtly so you don’t stress about what you say later.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Because you don’t always notice when you’re oversharing, the two of you have figured out a nonverbal signal. Kyle might put his hand on your shoulder when you’re talking if you’re going off on a tangent.

This isn’t to put you down or make you feel like shit, but to help you realize when you’re oversharing, especially with strangers.

Doesn’t care that you overshare with him or with people close to him, and will absolutely judge those people if they find it annoying or put you down.

Gives you lots of reassurance and affirmations when you feel like you’ve gone too far and are negatively reflecting.

John “Soap” MacTavish

When he first meets you, he’s a little startled by how much you share with him.

But he’s not turned off by it. He finds it cute, and then, attractive. Everyone else walks through a conversation without actually saying anything.

Absolutely ignores everyone else in the room just to keep talking to you.

Loves that you’re a yapper because he’s a yapper.

Only shuts you up with lots of kisses that make you laugh.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Won’t interrupt because he loves hearing you talk his ear off.

Likes how you feel vulnerable and safe enough with him to overshare.

“I’m sorry. I talk to much”

“All good, dove. Love hearing your voice.”

Subtle asks questions between pauses just so you’ll keep talking.

Enjoys when you’re oversharing about a particular hobby or hyperfixation.

main masterlist

[sevsgiirl]

— sevika reassuring her anxious partner (soft and angsty headcannons)

synopsis: when you get into an argument with sevika, your anxiety gets the best of you. luckily, she knows how to get rid of your doubts.

note: this is my first time posting my hcs of sevika because I usually post long fics, but after seeing so many tiktoks of people mischaracterizing sevika recently saying she’d be the type to cheat after an argument (she would never) I just had to write this because I am not letting anybody smear my wife’s good name.

𖥔 sevika isn’t necessarily argumentative, but she is very stubborn. she doesn’t like picking fights with you, if she could avoid them as much as possible she would.

𖥔 however, she always feels the need to have the last word, and that riles you up.

𖥔 she never raises her voice at you and make it seem like she’s pissed, but her frustrations seep through.

𖥔 and she knows if the situation further escalates she’ll say something she’ll regret, so she’ll force herself to take a step back, look at you and say “we’re not doing this. I’m not in the right head space right now and clearly you aren’t too.”

𖥔 usually she’d want to fix the issue right away because she doesn’t like prolonging a problem when she knows simple communication could fix it.

𖥔 but when she knows it’ll take the whole day for the problem to be resolved, she’ll create some distance between you two so she can have a clearer mind before bringing up the issue again, and without any bias.

𖥔 however, when she tells you that she needs some time away from you for a bit, your anxiety levels skyrocket. you start scrambling for a way to make her stay and fix the situation but she just sees it as you wanting to argue again, so she shakes her head and goes for the door.

𖥔 “not now. I’m not angry but just give me some time.” she tells you before walking out the door and leaving you in your apartment alone, already feeling bad that the argument went too far.

𖥔 as a way to compose herself she’ll head over to the last drop to have a drink and play some cards, and people at the table would notice her brooding demeanor and ask if there’s trouble in paradise.

𖥔 she won’t answer, she doesn’t like taking advice from people especially when it comes to her relationship. she doesn’t like airing out her business, but people will chime in either way.

𖥔 telling her that as long as the love is still there, there’s nothing that either of you can’t overcome together. again, she stays silent but keeps it in mind.

𖥔 meanwhile, you’re back at home. it’s been a few hours and sevika still hasn’t returned and it’s getting really late.

𖥔 you start assuming the worst case scenarios. pacing back and forth as you wonder if she’s gotten tired of you already, and it doesn’t help when her past at the gardens come to mind.

𖥔 so your mind pivots to that, as bad as it sounds, your chest suddenly feeling heavy as the ugliest scenarios of her confiding in another woman’s arms plague your mind and you immediately feel tears forming in your eyes.

𖥔 you know she would never, but you always feared the worst. you’ve opened up to sevika about your trust issues and she always listened intently. her loyalty and devotion are her most notable traits, and you’d never doubt her. but still, during your darkest moments you can’t help but let those ugly thoughts win.

𖥔 as you imagine her seeking escapism in another woman’s body, you thought maybe if you had just shut up she wouldn’t go out doing god knows what so she wouldn’t be trapped in the same space as you.

𖥔 meanwhile, sevika is trying her best to walk in a straight line as she heads back home from the bar, mentally cursing herself for drinking too much because now, how else is she going to have a conversation about your argument earlier if she could barely form a coherent thought?

𖥔 it’s almost midnight by the time you hear sevika’s spare keys unlocking your door as she stumbles in, groaning as you step inside the living room and watch her walk in.

𖥔 “where were you?” you ask, your voice shaking but sevika didn’t pick up on your anxious state just yet.

𖥔 so she raises a hand to signal for you to give her a moment, but you being paranoid, take it a sign of her being annoyed with you.

𖥔 “I’ve had too much to drink, just give-“

𖥔 she stops dead in her tracks when she hears you sniffling, and it’s like all the liquor in her system got evaporated as she looks up and notices your watery eyes, fidgeting with your fingers and she immediately takes a step forward.

𖥔 “hey, what’s wrong-“

𖥔 “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to blow things out of proportion and I understand if you’re fed up with my shit, but sev, j-just…”

𖥔 her eyebrows furrow as you look down at your feet “hey, remember what I said earlier? I’m not mad. I just needed some space to clear my head.”

𖥔 your glossy eyes pierce through her grey ones as you gulp “I-I thought you got tired of me a-and…”

𖥔 she looks at you and encourages you to finish, but as you think about it you can’t help but feel embarrassed “it’s stupid.”

𖥔 “sweetheart, just tell me-“

𖥔 “I thought you went to the gardens.”

𖥔 all thought process quickly stopped working as she stares at you, dumbfounded. feeling her heart twist at the thought of you losing faith in her that you’d assume she’d go and sleep with another woman just because she was angry at you.

𖥔 she wasn’t even angry at you. she could never be angry. she was frustrated with the situation but she’d never have it in her to be mad at you and blame you for anything.

𖥔 she takes a step closer and extends her hand to palm your cheek, calloused but warm.

𖥔 “sweetheart, you know I’d never do that. ever.” she put both of her hands on your face and fixed you with a hard gaze “no matter whatever bullshit we go through, don’t ever think I’d stoop as low as betraying you like that. I wouldn’t even imagine doing that to you.”

𖥔 she swallows the lump in her throat. she wasn’t the type to get emotional but seeing your big doe eyes look at her, all pitiful and devastated, made her heart break. so with a sigh she pulls you against her chest and tightens her arms around you, running her fingers down your hair as she rest her chin on top of your head.

𖥔 “I love you. so fucking much. you could put me in a room with a thousand women and I’d still crawl my way out of there to get to you. nothing else matters. just you. you know that, right?”

𖥔 you sniff, nodding as you let out a shaky breath “I know and I’m sorry. I just got a b-bit paranoid.”

𖥔 she shook her head “it’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’m not going to be upset when I should’ve stayed here with you and worked things out. I’m sorry for making you go through that, baby.”

𖥔 after a few minutes you finally look up at her and gave her a wobbly smile.

𖥔 “it’s okay,” you nuzzled against her touch and sighed “I love you, sev.”

𖥔 she smiles, thumb caressing your cheek “I love you more.”

[heyclickadee]

Same.

And—okay, @mrsnaildood, your tags

got me thinking, because I absolutely think there’s something going on here between these two lines, and it’s interesting.

(More under the cut—this got long because I can’t shut up):

My two cents—with the caveat that I’m very much hardline Tech lives, and hardline that we’re not quite done with the batch’s story, just with the part focusing on Omega’s POV—is that they’re sort of both right and both wrong, and that the answer is a third road situation we haven’t gotten to yet.

Because, well, the squad does keep functioning after Echo leaves. It takes them a bit to adjust, no one is happy about it, but they operate just fine once they get their heads around it. They even function okay without Crosshair. It’s never quite the same, they don’t like it, but they can squeak by because they can collectively step in and fill the job Crosshair had on the squad (not that they’re filling in for the person, just the role of sharpshooter) to enough of an extent that they can complete missions when they need.

So, yes, Tech is sort of right that the squad can keep going, unhappily but still, if they lose a member. Except then they lose Tech and everything immediately falls apart. And stays fallen apart for an extended period of time because he’s not there.

I mean. The train car crashes because it won’t Echo slow it down (could Tech have hacked in and forced a system response? Maybe). Omega almost dies and they have to go back to Ord Mantell to have AZ save her (Tech doubled as the team medic—maybe they wouldn’t have had to do this if he was there). Omega gets captured. Hunter and Wrecker can’t find Tantiss and look every bit like they’re letting themselves get hit by trucks for leads. They search for months. Omega has to get herself out. They have to go to an entire other planet to unlock a datapad and then do a job for someone who might know someone who knows something to find out what an m-count is. They have to take the most convoluted way to Tantiss and then spend the bulk of their time there getting their asses kicked.

(Edit: To clarify here because I just realized how this came across, I’m not saying that Tech is more important to the squad than the others, because he’s not. More that he serves a different function; he’s sort of the engine that keeps them going, and they lost him at a time when they were already stretched thin and when what they really needed was an engine.)

We don’t even really get a happy reunion of the known surviving members of clone force 99. Echo leaves again, Crosshair and Wrecker aren’t part of the, “Whatever we want, kid,” conversation and don’t appear in the epilogue, and when they come sit down under that tree

the two of them are still visually separated from each other and the group in the center. This isn’t a whole, united family (I know we’re talking about them as a squad right now, but more on this in a minute—they’re still as broken as they were back in Aftermath, just broken differently. (Also, sidebar, Crosshair is sitting against the darkest part of the frame. Man is just surrounded by shadow, which. Hmmm.)

Anyway, all this to say that Crosshair is also is also kind of right. They are broken without Tech. They’re not the same squad. If Tech is meant to be dead then the handling of that death is atrocious, because he’s never dealt with as a person (and we get no indication anyone has dealt with it off screen), but if he’s alive then the cumulative effect of really only bringing up the loss of his skillset without allowing anyone to step up and fill his roll—not even Omega, who wins against Hemlock with a combination of skills she learned from all her brothers and her own capacity for strategy and compassion, and very much does things her way—is to say that they need him.

And the really interesting thing is that no one really refutes these lines even though there’s definitely space for them to do so. Neither Wrecker nor Hunter tell Tech that he’s wrong, they tell him that he needs to go talk to Omega because he snapped at her, she needs help adjusting, and she doesn’t actually want to be alone. The pushback against Crorsshair’s line completely sidesteps the question about whether Tech is really gone or whether Clone Force 99 is dead without him, and instead focuses hones in on Crosshair trying to infiltrate Tantiss by himself—something that Wrecker and Hunter won’t let him do. And, of course, neither Tech nor Crosshair ever take their statements back. (Crosshair doesn’t take the statement that he deserves to die back, either, which again. Hmmmm.

But, to add another layer to this, neither Tech’s nor Crosshair’s lines are delivered as objective fact. There’s a lot of emotional charge and neither of them is exactly calm while saying them.

“This squad existed long before Echo was a part of it, and it will exist long after,” is one of the most heated line deliveries we ever get from Tech. He’s done with everything, upset about Echo, really doesn’t want to talk about, would like things to stop going wrong for two seconds, and frankly I think he couldn’t handle Omega going on at that particular moment on top of everything else. So he snaps at her in a way that shuts down the conversation.

“Clone force 99 died with Tech! We’re not that squad anymore!” is agonizing. It’s one of the most pained things Crosshair says, and part of one of his longest trains of dialogue, because it’s just the preamble to Crosshair declaring that he’s going to go into Tantiss alone because he, “deserves whatever happens to [him] in there.” The whole speech together is basically, “We’re broken because we don’t have Tech, and we don’t have Tech because of me, so I’m going to go get myself killed over it.” Whatever Crosshair actually believes about Tech’s fate, and whatever Tech’s fate actually is, Crosshair’s saying this in a moment of anger, his primary motivation here is to get Hunter and Wrecker to let him go in by himself, and he’s saying the most out of pocket, painful thing he can think of to do so. (He has a habit of doing this.)

So, all this to say is that part of what these lines do is inform us of Tech’s and Crosshair’s perspectives and motivations in these moments more than anything else. Tech is deeply upset about losing Echo (and, as it turns out, losing Crosshair), but they have to keep going, and he can’t solve the problem they’re in by shutting down over it. Crosshair doesn’t think there’s anything left to carry on, and he’s in despair because of it.

Which is where I think we get to the point where they’re both a little bit wrong.

Given Tech’s perspective I think there’s a chance that, whatever else he was thinking—I don’t think there’s a universe where Tech wouldn’t fight to stay alive all the way down, but he’d know that if he did make it to the bottom alive that he’d be separated from the rest of the batch for who knows how long—he thought the squad could carry on without him because he watched them function through losing Crosshair and Echo. That it’d be hard, that they’d hate every second of it, but that they could adapt and function and then they…don’t. No one ever really deals with losing Tech—not the same as being sad, and something that would have needed to happen on screen—and they’re immediately plunged into a situation where his exact skillset could have solved the problem in, like, two days.

(Sidebar: if it turns out I’m right and this story isn’t quite done, and we do get Tech back, one interesting thing they could do is push very gently back against the idea of clone self sacrifice, and make, “he wouldn’t let us save him,” something Tech has to learn, because he was sacrificing himself for his squad but what his squad actually needed was him.)

And then for Crosshair…the thing about Crosshair is that he’s a perceptive individual who picks up on people and situations in a remarkable way, except that perception is then filtered through a filter of cynicism and self-loathing that ends up taking genuine insight and bringing it to the worst conclusion. And that’s before we get to Crosshair’s habit of just saying things he doesn’t believe with the intent of pushing people away. “We’ve been a train wreck ever since we lost Tech,” isn’t wrong. “We’re permanently broken and nothing can be fixed,” is the Crosshair filter talking. Besides—if clone force 99 can never be fixed, then what did Tech sacrifice himself for? And he fell on a mission he personally pushed for to save Crosshair; how does Crosshair going and getting himself killed over it in any way honor that?

All this to say that I think these two moments are absolutely in dialogue with each other. “It’s difficult, but we have to carry on,” vs, “We’re broken and I’m going to let it kill me.” Or, well…, “Adapt and survive, or die with the past.”

There’s a push and pull between them, but it’s in a way that allows the tension between the two perspectives to never settle at any point of the show. As long as there is more story to tell, however, I think the real answer to which perspective the writing agrees with is going to come down to this exchange:

“But we’re more than that. We’re a family. Aren’t we?”

“Yes—yes. Of course we are.”

Imagine for a second that Tech comes back, we get the entire bad batch family together, and that we do come full circle to this. Basically, that, yes, Tech was wrong about this particular thing, clone force 99 hasn’t existed in a real way in a long time, and that it actually died long before Crosshair thought, too. Clone force 99 as a functioning military unit died with the Republic. They aren’t the soldiers that they were, and they’ve all been through too much to be able to be. But that doesn’t matter, because they’re more than that. They’re a family. They always will be. And they don’t have to stay broken.

And for what it’s worth, Crosshair and Tech are the only members of the squad outside of Omega who talk about it in familial terms. And we never do round out the family arc. So it might be something they’re planning on coming back to.

remember in S2 when Tech said "This squad existed before Echo was a part of it, and it will exist after."

and then in S3 Crosshair said "Clone Force 99 died with Tech. We're not that squad anymore."

i just think about this a lot.