#if you could save yourself (you'd save us all)
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rafelandia · 2 days ago
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Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)
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Word Count: 5.4k
Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy
Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.
Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.
“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.
“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”
She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers. 
“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”
The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.
“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”
Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.
“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.
“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.
“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.
“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”
Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.
“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”
Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.
“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”
“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.
“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”
Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.
“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”
She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.
“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”
Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.
“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”
She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.
“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”
A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.
“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”
Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.
“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”
Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.
“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”
Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.
“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”
//
Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.
He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.
“Baby?” Rafe called out.
Nothing.
His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times. 
And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.
She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?
Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife. 
Good. She was sleeping. 
He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely. 
All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.
His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.
“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door. 
He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.
“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."
Nothing.
Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.
“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”
And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.
“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.
“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”
She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so. 
After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.
“I went to the doctor today.” 
“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.
“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.
“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.
“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.
“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”
Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list. 
“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.
“Ten weeks.”
Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.
“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.
“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.
“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”
He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister. 
It was all too sudden.
“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”
“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.
He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.
Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.
“I can’t do this.”
“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.
“That’s the problem, Rafe.”
He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.
“What?”
“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."
Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.
“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”
His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.
“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.” 
Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this? 
“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."
“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.
“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.
“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”
“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.
“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”
“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.
“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”
The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.
She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.
“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands. 
“I just-,” and then she broke.
Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.
“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”
His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.
Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.
“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”
“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”
She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.
//
Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.
She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.
Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.
“Can I come in?”
His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.
He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.
“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.
“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.
Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.
“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”
She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.
“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”
He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.
The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.
“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.
Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.
Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his. 
“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.
“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.
“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”
“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.
“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”
She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.
“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”
This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face. 
“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.
After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.
“Two babies,” he huffed.
“Two babies,” she repeated.
His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.
“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”
“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”
Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.
“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.
Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.
“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”
“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.
“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”
Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.
“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”
“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.
“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.
Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.
“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”
“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.
“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”
“Okay.”
Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.
When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now. 
Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did. 
With two babies.
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days ago
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your best girl || alexia putellas x reader ||
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You comfort Alexia when she returns after the Olympics.
18+
Everybody had a job. You had nearly forgotten that with the craziness of the Olympics. Alexia worked hard to be the best captain for her country that she could. There was only so much that her on-pitch presence could do. Their issue was at the coach's level, and the team suffered because of that. Alexia had only come back to you a couple days early after being knocked away from the medals, and that was where your job started.
It was always difficult gauging the amount of space to give Alexia. You understood how devastating a blow it was, having lost the chance for a medal at your first Olympics. Back then, you had wished that someone would have helped you pick up the pieces of yourself, but instead, you tried to brave it all on your own. Alexia wasn't like you, and that was where you apprehension about talking to her came in.
The thought of smothering Alexia and pushing her away haunted you constantly. You needed to do something to show her that you were there for her that wasn't over the top of dramatic. And so, you dropped as many little hints that you were just waiting for her to come to you. You thought for a moment that you'd end up driving yourself mad waiting for Alexia, but the silence and tension in the apartment only lasted for a few days at most.
"What is all of this?" Alexia asked as she stood behind your desk chair. You tried to turn, but Alexia was holding you forward. You could feel her lean down a bit, reading over your analysis of the games for work. "You've been busy."
"Never too busy for you though," you told her. Alexia dropped her hands from your chair, finally allowing for you to turn and face her. "I'm glad to see you up and around a bit."
"The bed felt a little cold, and I know that it's not really a big thing, but I was hoping that you had some time to join me," Alexia said. You nodded, quickly saving the small additions you had made to your analysis paper before shutting your computer down and following Alexia into the bedroom.
It looked like she had been cleaning a bit before she came to get you. The nest of blankets that Alexia had created to curl up and wallow in was now dismantled. She had tidied up her laundry from the floor and made the bed, which you knew were big steps. Aside from that, you didn't let the candles on the bedside table or the songs from your R&B sex playlist playing.
"How exactly am I helping you warm up the bed?" you asked teasingly. Alexia played it innocent as she sat back on the bed. She patted the spot next to you, and you all but rushed over to join her. Sex hadn't been on the table for you mentally when Alexia got home, but you were a bit relieved to not be waiting weeks like the last big loss Alexia had faced.
You didn't understand how someone so amazing could get down on themselves so easily. Alexia was under immense pressure from fans, but it was nothing compared to what she put herself through. You felt guilty learning from those around Alexia that it only got worse when you came in the picture. In your eyes, you were washed up and spat out by the game, but Alexia held you in the regard that some had during your prime.
"I did have a couple of things in mind. I think that I need a little reminder of who I am." Alexia ducked her head down until her face was tucked into the crook of your neck. She was being shy, like she was ashamed of really asking for what you wanted. Still, you completely understood wht she needed. It wasn't exactly what had become your normal, but you were still definitely up to reminding Alexia that she didn't have to win everything in order for you to love and cherish her.
"I get that you need this for what happened in Paris, but forget about football and the Olympics completely. Right now it's just the two of us. I am just me, and you are just you." Alexia struggled to take your words to heart at first, but that was expected. You were used to this little speedbump, but it was the most important part of everything in your eyes. "You love me despite the fact that I haven't worn a jersey of my own in three years. I'll love you even if you never put another Spain or Barcelona jersey on again. I'll love you when the day comes that your body can't handle the game anymore, and I will take care of you when you inevitably push yourself too far again. Do you know why?"
"No," Alexia answered. You turned her face so that she was looking at you and you only.
"Because I did not fall in love with Alexia Putellas, the footballer. I fell in love with the woman who doesn't know how to tread lightly, so she wakes me up at odd hours every single time that she gets out of bed. I fell in love with the woman who goes out of her way to take care of her community and everybody that she cares about. I fell in love with the woman who runs into the arm of the couch every single morning because she's too busy watching me walking into the kitchen. I fell in love with you because of what I saw off of the pitch," you told her. Alexia was blushing deeply, unsure of what to do with praise in that sense.
"I just wanted to win and make you proud. You got this new job after working so hard these past couple of years to learn Spanish. You're doing so much, and what have I done to compare?" Alexia confessed. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Alexia was constantly doing things that often made you feel a bit inferior, so it blew your mind a little to hear that Alexia had been feeling this way too.
"Ale, you are the best soccer player in the world. I'm only here because I gave up and called it quits. You're doing amazing things all of the time. You're the best in the world, and let's face it, I wouldn't have gotten my foot in the door if I wasn't your girlfriend. I could have worked and worked and worked forever, but they wouldn't have cared." Alexia's face changed from its formerly soft expression to a hardened one. "I'm not here to argue about my achievements with you, I'm here to remind you that this one setback won't define your worth."
"Just you wait, they'll be referring to me as (Y/n) (Y/l/n)'s girlfriend. Hopefully one of the better ones," Alexia said. She sounded so confident and sure of herself that you had to believe her.
"You'll always be the best one. Hopefully you'll also be my last one," you told her. Alexia leaned in and kissed you, slowly pulling you on top of her. You let the kiss progress naturally, neither of you pushing things too far without the other pressing equally as much.
"Take this off," Alexia requested as she started tugging at the hem of your shirt. You sat back and started removing the pieces of your clothes that Alexia asked you to. In turn, she briefly moved you off of her lap to completely undress herself. The tension in the room thickened a bit as she laid down again, legs spread as you stood at the end of the bed.
"You look unreal," you muttered as you moved onto the bed. You didn't want to leave Alexia waiting. Alexia didn't want to wait either, guiding your head between her legs without any ounce of hesitation. You could see that Alexia was already wet. She wasn't soaked but still undeniably wet.
You didn't have a chance to tease Alexia. She guided your face to her cunt, movements on the cusp of being pushy. Alexia was almost always in control, and she doubled down whenever you were topping. She didn't want to wait around or be teased, Alexia wanted to cum. You still had your chance to revel in the taste of her, even if it wasn't in the same way that she got to with you.
It didn't come as a surprise to you to have Alexia grinding her hips to move against your tongue. She didn't seem to want your fingers at all, working herself up on just your mouth. You loved it, loved knowing that you could make Alexia feel so good with just a few simple movements. Topping Alexia gave you a rush that you'd be riding for the next couple of days, until Alexia felt up to the task of "putting you back in your place."
"I'm so fucking close. Don't stop, please don't stop," Alexia swore. She wasn't usually one for pleading, but you'd take it. Her hands were gripping your shoulders tightly, nails digging in as you savored every drop of her that you could. Alexia let you continue with the strokes of your tongue past her first orgasm, only pushing you away after the second. She rode one high into the next before her brain and body seemed to catch up to each other.
She was sensitive, and her legs jerked shut, nearly hitting you in the process. You didn't sit back and stare, instead going straight into the bathroom to get a warm washcloth. Alexia let you clean her up, not saying anything to you until after she had grabbed new clothes to wear for the night. You stripped the bed and put everything in the washer, slightly surprised to find Alexia waiting for you in the kitchen when you were done.
"I don't think I let you know how important you are to me. I don't know how badly I would have spiraled without you here," Alexia told you. You blushed as she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you from behind. "Tomorrow, I start training again. I've only got a few years until the next World Cup and Olympics."
"I mean, I guess," you sighed. Alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek before she grabbed a snack to take into the living room. You went decided to go to bed, already well aware that Alexia wouldn't get to bed for another hour or so at least. You set an alarm for 1, deciding that if she wasn't in bed by then, you were going out to the living room to collect her yourself.
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nemesyaaa · 1 day ago
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kwisifiisidz OMG Reading this through the sickness of my body is insane !! you left me breathless Nini with this one ?? i'm always such a fan of your writings but this ??? it was so much beautiful in a way i can't describe. i love this type of angst so much and i'm just so sad about it ! i read this like i'm listening to a sad song :(( wow wow wow 💖💖💖
you were in no means ready to see him, let alone work with your ex-fiancée again. you knew he’d been stealing glances at you while you all trek your way through the sandy dunes of the coast of morocco, but you were strong enough to keep yourself from looking back and meeting his gaze. —already at the beginning and i know it's gonna ate
"are you serious?" were the first words you'd tell him in a year. he pulled out a wad of cash and his passport from his belt bag. "that's like, hundreds of dollars, rafe! you could've fed your sister!" he turns to look at you, piercing blue eyes burning holes through your soul. "listen, my only job was to get you pogues to morocco. no more, no less. if you don't wanna get lost, you gotta follow me, I'm your best bet," "as if," you roll your eyes, "we're in the same boat—no pun intended—but, you are also in a different country," he pulls you into his chest with one arm, whispering in your ear, "yeah? but guess who has the money? guess who actually has defense skills. not you, huh?" — this whole scene because it was incredible. this is so accurate to me please 😭😭
this day felt like years. after an extensive search for groff, you'd finally found him. you rode on the back of the motorcycle rafe stole, holding onto his waist. you couldn't help but have your mind flashback to your last motorcycle ride with him, still on kildare, on the way to courthouse to get marriage documents. his cologne hadn’t changed either. you remembered how his cologne lingered on every article of your clothing. you knew he’d been about it too from the way his body tensed up. — the bittersweet feelings of the old relationship 💘
gentle hands hold your face, "rafe, you can't save me, I'm sorry," you feel a warmness fill your body. "no, no, I can, we can get you to a hospital! stay with me-" you cough again, louder this time, "no, its impossible," he curses under his breath, before shouting to the sky. he embraces you, your voice getting weaker by the second, "hey rafe? can you tell me about our best memories? like...during our relationship?" your voice was barely a whisper now. — YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME NINI ??? IT'S WILD.
he nods, voice barely steady as he begins to talk, "we had a lot of good memories, but my favorite was our last summer, where we were gonna get married in the fall. I shouldn't have cheated, I'm so sorry," he sobs onto your shoulder, "remember when all we did was go surfing? and I taught you how to ride those big swells 'cus you were too scared...and...how we were gonna move out of kildare after we got married? we were gonna move to colorado, live that white picket fence type of life," he bitterly chuckles, "I screwed up, I screwed us, and I'm so, so, sorry. If I could rewind time, just to feel your lips on mine again, just to hear you laugh, just to have you look at me with so much love, I would. I'd make sure you were never under this situation." your mind replayed all of those memories, and with shaky hands, you pull him in for one last kiss, pulling back to say your last words, “I never stopped loving you, rafe,” before letting your body finally succumb to your injury. — i'm just falling in love (again) with your writings at this point. it was like an amazing poem. tysm for this one, for sharing with us. i'm feeling unwell but so glad to be able to read this one ✨
okay season 4 rafe where they broke up and shes a kook turned pouge, and its just a bunch of angst and basically all of s4 with her?
our last summer - rafe cameron x reader
synopsis - he wishes he could've had one last summer with you
warnings - angst, kook turned pogue!reader, mentions of cheating, (slight) sofia slander (I love her tho!!), stabbing, character death
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you were in no means ready to see him, let alone work with your ex-fiancée again. you knew he’d been stealing glances at you while you all trek your way through the sandy dunes of the coast of morocco, but you were strong enough to keep yourself from looking back and meeting his gaze.
your main priority was sarah, who you could tell was getting queasy from the amount of activity she’d been doing these past couple of days. once you saw the skyline of a city, your ounce of optimism returned.
around a year ago, you’d been happily engaged to who you thought was the love of your life, rafe cameron. after you’d found a tank top that wasn’t yours in your shared bedroom, you’d knew he was seeing someone else, but you didn’t expect that someone to be your own best friend, sofia.
you had followed the pogues to morocco after what groff had done to jj. you were willing to follow them to the ends of the earth, never leave a pogue behind, john b's words echo in your head.
you were sitting with sarah, rubbing her back while the rest of the group went to go get some food for her. rafe was mumbling incoherent sentences, something he always did while pissed off or annoyed, and you tried your best to ignore his complaints. "you okay?" you softly spoke up, sarah meekly nodded her head in response.
you hear the shout of multiple voices, turning around to see the rest of the group running towards you. you stood up, dumbfounded as the moroccan authorities chase your friends. already? one of them apprehends you, and you writhe at their grip. you plead to them, but its no use. you turn around, seeing rafe also getting held up. the rest of the pogues were nowhere to be found. as long as they got each other, they're safe.
after a quick interrogation, the authorities let you both go. you let out a huff, not only because you were falsely accused, but because you're now stuck with your ex-lover, in a foreign country.
"are you serious?" were the first words you'd tell him in a year. he pulled out a wad of cash and his passport from his belt bag. "that's like, hundreds of dollars, rafe! you could've fed your sister!" he turns to look at you, piercing blue eyes burning holes through your soul. "listen, my only job was to get you pogues to morocco. no more, no less. if you don't wanna get lost, you gotta follow me, I'm your best bet," "as if," you roll your eyes, "we're in the same boat—no pun intended—but, you are also in a different country," he pulls you into his chest with one arm, whispering in your ear, "yeah? but guess who has the money? guess who actually has defense skills. not you, huh?" he shoves you out of his arms, making you stumble backward. you scoff, following him through the crowded streets.
"you look nice," a slight smile dawned on his face as one of the store clerks helped you wrap your scarf around your hair. you both had changed into more neutral colored outfits to help blend in. "hold on" you see rafe turn to a stand that's selling phones. you impatiently tap your foot as he dials a couple of numbers in. you follow closely, wanting to find out who needed his attention so badly.
your heart clenched as you heard another female voice, quickly realizing that it was sofia. of course, why wouldn't he call his girlfriend? now, you distanced yourself from him, looking at the floor as you drag your feet along the dirt, getting your shoes dusty.
this day felt like years. after an extensive search for groff, you'd finally found him. you rode on the back of the motorcycle rafe stole, holding onto his waist. you couldn't help but have your mind flashback to your last motorcycle ride with him, still on kildare, on the way to courthouse to get marriage documents. his cologne hadn’t changed either. you remembered how his cologne lingered on every article of your clothing. you knew he’d been about it too from the way his body tensed up.
you shake your head, he probably does that with sofia now. you sniffle, hoping the sound of the engine would muffle it. rafe pulls off to the side of the road, stopping at a well. you use this time to regain your distance from him, stretching from the long ride. "is that it?" you point to the city down the cliff, squinting your eyes. groff looks at the map, nodding his head. you see the two men bent over the well, and you shuffle to see what they were looking at. "...good thing hollis and I paid off that girl...what was her name? sonya? oh, sofia!" you see rafe's face twist. you kneel down in front of the well, next to groff, "what are you talking about?" "its really none of your business," he retorted.
what happens next is a blur, groff pulls out a knife, attempting to stab rafe. rafe's reflexes work in record-time, but it was a horrible decision to try to help him at this moment. as groff attempts to defend himself, you feel the blade go into your stomach. you let out a sharp gasp, after seeing groff get shoved down the well, you collapse, rafe gracing your fall. "hey, hey, y/n, stay with me, please," his voice cracks as be sits you down on the side. he holds your wound, and you let out a painful groan. his eyes widen. he still calls out for help, desperation lacing his voice. "no one can hear you," you cough.
gentle hands hold your face, "rafe, you can't save me, I'm sorry," you feel a warmness fill your body. "no, no, I can, we can get you to a hospital! stay with me-" you cough again, louder this time, "no, its impossible," he curses under his breath, before shouting to the sky. he embraces you, your voice getting weaker by the second, "hey rafe? can you tell me about our best memories? like...during our relationship?" your voice was barely a whisper now.
he nods, voice barely steady as he begins to talk, "we had a lot of good memories, but my favorite was our last summer, where we were gonna get married in the fall. I shouldn't have cheated, I'm so sorry," he sobs onto your shoulder, "remember when all we did was go surfing? and I taught you how to ride those big swells 'cus you were too scared...and...how we were gonna move out of kildare after we got married? we were gonna move to colorado, live that white picket fence type of life," he bitterly chuckles, "I screwed up, I screwed us, and I'm so, so, sorry. If I could rewind time, just to feel your lips on mine again, just to hear you laugh, just to have you look at me with so much love, I would. I'd make sure you were never under this situation." your mind replayed all of those memories, and with shaky hands, you pull him in for one last kiss, pulling back to say your last words, “I never stopped loving you, rafe,” before letting your body finally succumb to your injury.
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taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx
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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 days ago
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Not Quite Poison
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Barty Crouch Jr. X Potter!Reader
Summary: after a chance meeting in the library; a whirlwind love affair between Barty Crouch Jr and the youngest Potter blossom, but neither of them were prepared for how life would go after.
AN: MONTHS. I have finally finished this after MONTHS. Sorry if the writing style is a bit whiplash, I have changed a lot since then. I can't get away from Barty he owns my whole heart
CW: not proof read, no use of Y/N, Obsessive!Barty(implied obsessive reader), sexual themes and scenes, graveling and begging, Protective Sirius and James, fighting, lying, self indulgent, cursing, Remus x reader if you squint, angst, angst with slightly happy ending, fem reader, not cannon complacent, sexual innuendo, underage drinking, major character death (unless...?)
WC: ~17k
You never felt as bold or as powerful as you did at Hogwarts, walking the halls with your older brother and his friends. 
Shamelessly you always thought they were the coolest. The Marauders, James Potter; Head Boy, Remus Lupin; Prefect, Sirius Black; one of the most clever and strongest duelists in the school, and Peter Pettigrew; the sweetest boy you'd ever meet. 
They had a reputation for themselves even before you came to the school a year later. Not that it surprised you, your brother had always been a moth to the limelight. You were just happy he never aimed that at you, being fiercely protective of his little sister. They all were pretty defensive when it came to ‘little Potter.’
But, there was only so much their help could do.
“Dreadful! A Dreadful on my potions exam!” You groaned as you wiggled the parchment in front of you, as if shaking it enough would change the ink that was etched on the page.
“I have never gotten such a low score in my life!” You whined and hugged the paper. Giving a small sigh as Sirius ruffled your hair. “Calm it, Bambi. It’s just a practice test. You're becoming Moony.”
Sirius gestured behind his back to Remus, who was wearing an offended look.
“I'm sorry I couldn't help you more.” Lily called over from under your brother's arm, sending you a sympathetic look. You just mumbled.
“It’s alright, Red. If even you can’t save me, I’m well and truly done for.” You groaned and Remus nudged you with his elbow.
“I could always give you a hand.” 
You shook your head and bit your cheek. “Nah, think it’s best I crack on alone. No distractions.” You waved your hands out dramatically, full of resolve. Enough to make Sirius laugh at you and Lily to roll her eyes fondly. The redhead looked up and smirked at James who seemed to be lost in his own little world, staring at her. 
“Jamie, dearest?” 
He blinked out of his daze and smiled at her. “What's that?”
“Were you paying any mind to your little sister?” 
“She was talking?” He muttered and looked over at you, greeted by a bird that wasn't under his arm, instead poking from between your index and ring finger. “Ah, so I’ve finally learned to tune her out. Only took me seventeen years.”
“Sod off.” You stuck your tongue out at him and he blew a raspberry back, before Lily gave him a reprimanding smack on his shoulder. 
“You're meant to be head boy.” She huffed and you just smirked. 
“How they let him get that badge, I’ll never know!” You shouted up to your brother who made a mocking face at you with his eyes crossed. Remus snickering from your other side.
“Oi, James, keep it to yourself,” Peter mumbled, shuffling out of spitting range.
“It's like watching two first years go at it.” Sirius mumbled and Remus shrugged. “I don't think they ever left that age.”
You rolled your eyes fondly at the jabs as Lily grabbed your brother's face and squished his cheeks, leaving him a smiling fool.
“Okay, I'm heading to the library.” You offered and got a variety of responses as you left. “Got to make sense of this disaster of a grade.”
Their echoes of conversation faded out as your shoes hit the path to the library. Once there, you were shocked to see how many people were studying in the now cramped hall. It was fair to say that everyone here had a poor score on their test.
What was worse is you didn't recognize a single person. Not well enough to sit with.
You walked down the long path between the aisle and tried to spot an open seat somewhere. That was, until you spotted an empty table. An entirely empty table with a few spare books shoved across the old oak. You lit up and hurried over to take the seat closest to the wall. Setting up your things to begin to study, not noticing how people had been avoiding that table like the plague.
As you set up your books and notes you were oblivious to any presence around you, until the seat right next to you was pulled out. “You know…”
You looked up quickly and you were greeted by a pair of piercing green eyes that made your heart stop. What was it with Potters and green eyes? You'd never know. 
“If you wanted my seat that bad, you could have just asked.” You were suddenly snapped to your senses when you recognized the voice.
Bartemius Crouch Junior. Fuck.
You didn't talk to many RavenClaws, you hardly talked to any male classmates considering how often your brother would scare them off. Sirius wasn't much help either.
However, Crouch had a special reputation. Hanging around dangerous Slytherins, loud, dangerous, obsessive and as smart as a damned whip. You only knew what Sirius told you about him, which was nothing good, considering how both of them absolutely despised each other. James didn't like him either, but Lily spoke highly of him.
Lily spoke highly of almost anyone, though.
You only realized you had been staring at him when he arched his eyebrow.
“Cat got your tongue, Potter?” He teased as he took his seat and you snapped out of your thoughts. Still just blinking owlishly at him. This made him chuckle softly, leaving him to simply shrug and get back to work.
With how he behaved around most of the students you expected him to chase you off or bare his fangs- maybe bite you. Who knows? People described him more like a rabid animal than a proper student. Yet you had sat in his seat, at his table, pushed aside and even stolen one of his books, and he was as calm as a cat. 
“Er- sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.” You whispered and he glanced over at you. Meeting your eyes with a slowly growing smile.
“So she does talk?” He teased and you pursed your lips.
“When she wants to.”
“That's not very Potter of you.”
“It's very me of me.”
His smile only grew as your banter continued. His shoulders seemed to relax and he became a bit more playful. You felt like you might be insane, were there two Crouchs? There is no way this is the same boy who almost beat Sirius to a pulp over a remark about his own brother.
“So… do you mind if I study here?” You asked softly and he shrugged, going back to his paper. 
“I don't mind a pretty face.” 
This time it was your turn to smile, rolling your eyes a bit fondly. You got back to your notes, writing down each problem you had gotten wrong and looking for the proper potion recipe, starting with Wiggenweld. You began to mutter to yourself as you looked across three different books. Rubbing your temple in irritation as you tried to understand the ingredients and grew more and more infuriated. 
“You're doing it wrong.” You heard Barty mumble from beside you. You snapped your head over to glare at him and it only served to make him chuckle. 
“I don't think I've ever seen a Dreadful in my life.” 
You flushed a bit and moved your wrist to hide your marks. “What happened to you being nice to me?”
“Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled and shifted his seat a bit closer to you, looking at the books. “What's got you confused?”
“I just..” You sighed and gestured to the books. “Every one of these say something different! Salamander blood until it turns yellow, then orange, then green. But this one says Unicorn horn and Lionfish spines. And then this one says Sloth-”
“Woah woah woah, pretty girl, breath.” He pushed and you took a sharp breath. No one but Sirius had ever called you that, and certainly not in that tone. He lifted his arm and you got a good view of his bare forearm from where his sleeve was rolled up, showing off a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a magpie, you think. He smiled at how you took it in. “Did it myself.”
Your eyes widened and looked at him in shock. He seemed giddy with excitement at your interests. “That and this,” He mused and stuck out his tongue, using his middle fingers to press it flat against his lip. Showing off his tongue piercing and his black nails. Your eyebrows shot up to your hair line.
Him and Sirius were scarily alike. It was almost comforting.
“Woah…” You mumbled and he laughed. Smiling ear to ear.
“Look here, kid.”
“I'm your age-”
“Shhh, I'm spitting wisdom.” 
You couldn't help but laugh and relax fully as his fingers lined the pages of one of your books. “The reason they are so different is the one thing Professor Slug on my Horn doesn't tell you,” You laughed a bit in surprise at the vulgar nickname, “Is the potions you study under him have several different ways to make it. Salamander blood being the one taught in class.”
You looked back at the books and tilted your head a bit. “Why wouldn't they tell you that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I don't even use those recipes, I made my own.” 
You looked over at him in shock and he just smiled at you. 
You knew Crouch was a genius, he made sure everyone knew. But to have your own concoction for the potion you couldn't figure out how to brew according to instructions? You were baffled.
“Really?” 
He nodded and you furrowed your brow. “Why Wiggenweld?”
His lip twitched and you could see as the smile left his eyes but not his lips, slowly biting his cheek. “I'm prone to.. accidents.” 
“Your fights.” You whispered and he shrugged. 
“Those too.”
“Typical Crouch behavior.” You murmured, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice. Talking to him was feeling more natural by the second. “Always getting into trouble.”
He grinned at that, leaning back in his chair with a casual confidence that was slightly charming. He had a way about it, how his sleeves were rolled up and his tie was loose. Robe discarded and undeniably handsome- “What can I say? It’s a talent of mine.” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling more at ease as you continued to chat. The tension from earlier with your potions exam began to fade, replaced by a curiosity of learning who this Barty boy really was. It was a strange feeling, considering the reputation he had, but he seemed different here, away from the majority of the school, he was so gentle and sweet. 
“So, what’s your recipe for Wiggenweld?” You asked, hopeful for a bit of help. You leaned in closer, the books between you momentarily forgotten.
“Alright, but you have to promise me something,” He whispered and leaned all that more closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You can’t tell anyone I’m teaching you this. It’s our secret.”
“Deal!” You nodded, your excitement bubbling over. You didn’t care about the implications of keeping secrets; you were just grateful for the distraction and the chance to understand potions from a different perspective. Definitely not to keep talking to him, not at all, he was just so damned sweet.
“Well, I use this version of it.” He gestured to your test, “But no Salamander blood. Just Horklump and Dittany.” 
“What?” You whispered in shock and he sent you a playful wink. 
“Trust me, yeah?” He gestured to the pages. “You just need to stew them for no longer than ten minutes. Stir it the first two- Potter?”
“Yeah?”
“You should be writing this down.” He teased and you quickly scrambled for your quill, cheeks flushed as he found you just staring. 
You quickly scribbled down the details, heart racing as you focused on Barty’s instructions. The way he leaned in, so close that you could catch a whiff of his cologne, made it hard to concentrate. You tried to tune out the little voice in your head that reminded you of his reputation; all you wanted was to absorb the knowledge he was sharing. Nothing more.
“Okay, so after you’ve stewed the Horklump and Dittany, you need to add a pinch of powdered mint. It has to be powdered, if you add any fresh mint the juice will wind both of us in detention.” He continued, his voice low and steady, as if he were sharing a well-guarded secret. “But don't tell anyone that. It's just to get the color Slug likes so much.”
You couldn't help but smile at his goofy antics. “We?”
“Hm?”
“We'd end up in detention?”
He gave a chuckle. “Can't let you get in trouble for my secrets, can I? How could I live with myself?”
“What a gentleman.” You cooed and he gave a playfully solemn nod. 
“Truly, I am.”
“I would totally let you take the fall for my antics.” You countered and he put a hand over his chest with a gasp. You giggled and he couldn't help but smile at your look. 
“You're much prettier than your brother.” He hummed and you paused, turning to furrow your eyebrows at him with a bright smile. Clearly, he had no shame in what he said.
“Watch what you say, my brother may disagree with that.” 
Barty smirked, clearly unfazed by the warning. He seemed so.. shameless. “Let him. I’ve dealt with worse than a jealous Potter before.” He leaned in a little closer, his tone playful, yet there was an undertone of seriousness in his eyes. “Besides, I would hate to disappoint him. But my type is more.. about your height, your hair color, your eyes. Have to say, the only thing wrong with you… your name.”
You felt your cheeks flush with warmth at his compliment, the boldness of his words making your heart race. Who was this guy? “Oh really? What’s wrong with my name?” You asked, trying to keep your tone teasing, but the stutter in your tone betrayed you.
“Potter is a lovely name.” He hummed, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “But if you are looking to try out something different, I have some ideas.“
“Is this you flirting, Crouch?” 
“Call me Barty. And if you have to question it I might just have to up my game.” He lit up like a child and your heart clenched hopelessly. He didn't even attempt to play coy with his new found attraction, you wondered hopelessly how many people had told this boy no. Certainly not enough.
Thank Merlin for that.
You couldn't help but laugh, trying to mask the fluttering in your chest. “Well, Barty, I don’t know if you’re just charming or if this is some elaborate scheme to distract me from my disastrous Potions exam.”
He leaned in closer, resting his chin in his hand, eyes focused solely on you. “Maybe it’s a bit of both.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting to suppress a smile. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re delightful,” He shot back without missing a beat. The intensity in his gaze made you feel a little dizzy, like you were the center of an exhilarating storm. Like you were worth all his attention.
You had only been speaking for an hour and it seems he made up his mind about you so quickly.
“Okay, Mr. Charming.” You said with a smirk, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Let’s focus on Potions before you completely derail my study session.”
“Fine, fine.” He chuckled, leaning back into his chair but not breaking eye contact. “What's your next question?”
You spent the rest of the day with Barty, drilling on about the exam and your potion questions, falling into an easy and familiar rhythm. Eventually, even when your questions were answered and the library was empty, you two stayed. Even as it grew dark outside and the only lights came from the candles on the table. You two keep droning into easy conversation.
“You know.” Barty hummed. “This isn't the first time we've met.”
“Really?” You asked, your head in your arms as you leaned on the table over your books. He nodded. “Mhm. We met before, when we were younger. Before Hogwarts.”
“Before Hogwarts?” You echoed, trying to piece together the fragments of your memory. “I don’t remember meeting you before then. Are you sure?”
Barty chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m sure. It was at Diagon Alley.”
Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you tried to recall any memory of him. “Diagon Alley? I don’t remember that at all.”
“Yeah, it was ages ago. You were with your family, and I was there with my mum.” He explained, with such a sweet smile that reached his eyes. “You had just gotten your first wand. You were so excited, waving it around like you were already a pro. I was upset because my magic hadn't come in yet but you and your brothers came around the same time.”
You felt a spark of recognition at his words, completely baffled he would remember something so utterly small and insignificant to him. “I do remember being really excited! I think I accidentally turned my brother’s hair blue for a week after that.”
Barty burst out laughing, the sound bright and infectious. “See? You were a little troublemaker even back then.”
“Hey, it was an accident!” You protested, laughing along with him. “I was just a kid.”
“Still, it’s good to know you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.” He muttered and bit his cheek. Suddenly so.. thoughtful and distant. 
“... how did you remember that? I hardly remember it and it was the day I got my wand.” You have a small nervous laugh.
“You really don't remember?” He laughed and you just furrowed your brow in confusion.
“Woah, I'm that forgettable?” He teased and laughed as your eyes widened in horror. “I'm only teasing.”
He rolled his jaw a bit and laid his head on the table to look you in the eyes. “I was throwing a fit, you know. I wanted a wand so badly. You walked past me on the street and you pointed your wand at me. You shouted; ‘tears be gone and magic be strong!’ And just toddled away after your mother.”
Your jaw dropped a bit before you slowly covered your face in embarrassment. Giving a low groan as you began to laugh. “I don't remember that. But that's what my mum always told us when we got hurt. Said our magic would heal our owies.”
He chuckled and nodded. “I stopped crying. When I got my magic the next year I was sure it was your doing. I'm not surprised you don't remember me.”
“It's not that you're forgettable-”
“Heavens no, not that. Just… you are always doing small things like that. You don't know how much it means to people.”
You flushed a bit at his statement and looked down, unable to keep his eyes anymore. “You're exaggerating.” 
“I'm not. Everyone just adores you.” He mumbled and you shook your head.
“And everyone is scared of you.” You challenged. “Not everyone knows what they are talking about.” 
“They are scared of me with good reason.” He corrected and you shook your head defiantly. 
“You're not scary.” 
“I can be.” 
“I'll believe it when I see it.”
“I guess you'll never believe it then.”
You tilted your head a bit and looked up to meet his eyes. He was smiling so softly, so sweet, eyes gentle and almost suffocating. “I would rather die than scare you.”
You stared at him, a bit stunned. Struggling to catch yourself but all you could muster was. “You could never scare me.”
“Good.” He whispered in earnest with a nod of his head. “Good.” He smiled.
Before you both could continue talking, you heard the grand doors creek open, both of you looked up like deer in headlights. You saw Remus poke his head in and he smiled at you, before giving a grimace of a look at your company. 
You stood up as you saw Remus leave, giving a low sigh. “Sorry, I kept you here so late.”
“Don't worry about that.” He muttered as he began to help you pack up. “I'll put your books away for you.”
You gave him a surprised look before you furrowed your brow. “Are you not heading out as well?”
“Not now. I have a few assignments to look over.” He mumbled and your eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Wha? Oh! Oh, Barty, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to distract you.” You whispered and he shook his head, chuckling.
“It's alright, you can make it up to me.” He muttered and you nodded vigorously. “Distract me again? Tomorrow? Same seat?”
You were stunned for a moment before you slowly smiled to match his. “Time?”
“I'll be here all day.”
“Understood.” You smiled and gave him a small wave. “Goodnight, Barty.”
“Goodnight, Star.”
When you made your way out of the library and noticed James, Lily, Remus, Peter, and Sirius. You tilted your head a bit curiously when you saw James with the map.
“What's this about?” You hummed and James pointed at you like an accusatory child.
“Nuh uh! You and Crouch? Gross! No!”
You furrowed your eyebrow in confusion and looked over to Sirius who was glaring at you. Peter looked nervous to meet your eyes.
“You upset your brothers.” Remus muttered to you and you tilted your head. 
“It would seem so.” You mumbled back and Lily gave a little giggle. James didn't appreciate your mellow response.
“Bambi that boy is no good for my little sister.” James huffed and you could have sworn if you rolled your eyes any harder they would fall from your head. 
“Oh Merlin, here we go.” Lily mumbled.
You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at James, trying to keep your expression calm. “You mean the boy that helped me understand Potions better than I ever have? The same boy who’s been nothing but nice to me? You guys really need to relax.”
Sirius chimed in, his tone teasing but serious. “Nice? Junior? He's a walking red flag, love”
“And you’d know all about red flags, wouldn’t you, Sirius?” You shot back, a smirk creeping onto your face. You couldn’t help but needle him a bit, knowing full well his own history.
Lily laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. “Come on, you guys, let her have some fun! She’s old enough to make her own decisions.”
“Lily!” James huffed and gestured to you. “She's only 17.”
“18 in two months.” You put your hands on your hips as Remus smirked. “58 days.”
“Right on.” You mused and you and Remus shared a high five.
“Wha- I- no! No, I don't like it!” James whined like a child. “He's a Death Eater.”
That killed the fun chillingly fast. The hall was silent- in truth, no one knew anything about who was truly what. The only people you guys knew to be those monsters were the ones who claimed it. Like Mulciber, Avery, and even some of the other younger Slytherins.
The only evidence they would have to that would be the company Barty chose to keep.
“You watch your mouth.” You snapped quickly at James who looked a bit caught off guard that his usually sweet playful sister was so serious. Your blood was boiling with anxiety and inching for you to back down, you just wouldn't. To be in the middle of a war and to use that word so freely?
“You don't know what rumors like that can do to someone! And, I'll have you know, he is the sweetest boy I've ever talked to!” You snapped at him and his jaw dropped. 
“Not you, Remus or Peter.” You reassured and they nodded in agreement. 
“Not me.” Peter smiled at his friends and earned a smack from Sirius. Remus had the good sense not to say anything.
“You're such a git, James! And I won't be letting you continue to dictate my social life!” You snapped and the second Sirius opened his mouth you glared at him down. “You either greaser!” 
Remus snickered and you shook your head. “I'm going to my dorm!”
Lily scurried up to follow you, giving the boys a playful ‘hmph!’ As she passed.
Remus was about to say something before Lily grabbed his arm and dragged him along. Leaving the three older Gryffindor's alone in the hall, baffled.
~~~
You stomped right up to your bed and slipped across it with a groan. Remus was next, mocking your childish stomps before he laid the proper way across your mattress, arms behind his head. You glared at him before Lily sat beside you and patted the side near her, coaxing you closer.
You sighed and sat up, wiggling closer. 
“Baremius, huh?” She prodded and you nodded, leaning on your palms beside your knees. Her tone was always so soft and patient. She was always so… peaceful. 
“It's not like that. But James- ugh! He just gets on my nerves.”
“Not like that?” Remus spoke up from behind you two. “He looked like he was about to kiss you.”
“I have that effect on people.” You cheeked, quickly trying to cover up your heating cheeks. “He was helping me with potions. Nothing more.”
“Well, that's good.” Lily muttered and you half glared at her.
“Good?”
“I can't believe I'm about to say this.” She muttered. “I agree with your brother on this one.”
You gawked at her before you looked at at Remus who suddenly looked nervous. 
“And you?”
“In my defense, putting aside the rumors and.. his behaviors. He's a guy.” He shrugged and you gave a scandalized laugh.
“And you're not?”
“I'm a man.” He hummed and flexed playfully, showing off his arms and making you laugh, laying back and across his stomach. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and laid her head on his chest, looking at you with a soft smile.
“And in my defense, honey, I know him. He's friends with those horrid Slytherin boys and…” She looked away for a moment. “Snape. I know you can't judge someone on their friends alone but…”
“It says a lot.” You muttered and slowly hid your face in Remus’s stomach. He lifted his hand to ruffle your hair and you gave a loud and annoyed groan, looking back at Lily. “Do you really think-”
“I haven't seen any proof.” Lily quickly hushed you. “But just.. be careful, yeah? May want to keep him at arm's length.”
“...” You sighed and began to pick at the cables of Remus’s sweater, earning a smack from him. “I'll keep my distance.”
“That's our girl.” She smiled and leaned in to kiss your temple, making you laugh.
“You have to marry my brother now.” You insisted and Lily gave a snort. 
“Oh, look at this.” Lily mused and reached behind her, the second you lifted your head she flung a pillow at your face, leaving you to fall against Remus’s stomach. He let out a sound that resembled a balloon deflating and it left you and Lily giggling like fools.
You stared up at the ceiling as Remus and Lily began to chat aimlessly. You began to pick at your nails and pause. You wondered if there was any truth to it, the rumors and his actions. 
“I would rather die than scare you.”
His words replayed in your head over and over. What did he mean by that? Was it just you? Was his persona an act? What made you the exception?
The way his head tilted and his eyes looked into yours, it was something so genuine. Scarily affectionate. You wondered if it really was just that conversation. That day you met and that comment you made to him about magic.
Was he really not used to such simple compassions?
“Earth to bambi.” Lily called out and you looked over at her with a curious look. She smiled.
“So you won't get tangled up in him, yeah?” She prodded and you bit your cheek. You must have missed a lot.
“Yeah.. I'll be careful.” You muttered and she smiled.
“Good. I'm off to my patrols.” She hummed and sat up, grabbing her books and saying her goodbyes.
Remus looked down at you to see that distant stare again. Giving a weak chuckle and patting, giving a hum. “Wanna braid my hair?”
You sat up wordlessly and flopped on the pillow next to him. “Actually.. Can you read to me?”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want, bambi.” He mused and grabbed one of the books from your coffee table. Shifting up so you could lay your head on his chest, listening as he started the same book he's already ready you a million times.
~~~
You kept your promise and you avoided Barty. Everything went back to the status quo. At least for the first few weeks.
James had let it go a week or so later and Sirius was still weary of leaving you alone for too long. Ever since he started staying at your house in year five, he had become just as hovering and doting as your brother. But with Lily and Remus as reinforcements they never pushed it too far.
Then came the full moon. Remus would never allow you too far from the Gryffindor towers the nights leading up to it. No one, really. 
He would sooner see you in detention then letting you out of the dorms and especially not near the dark forest the night of the full moon. However, even if you couldn't help the night of, the very next morning no one could stop you from rushing down to the shrieking shack with breakfast and water for the boys.
It was never anything complicated, just a few biscuits and water before you all were lugged back for classes. This morning was no different. As you walked with the boys out of the shrieking shack and towards the school. 
The sun was shining bright, casting warm rays across the forest floor as you made your way back toward the castle. The air was crisp, fresh from the night’s chill, and you felt a sense of accomplishment in being there for your friends. 
“Thanks for this, lil Potter.” Remus mumbled, his voice still a bit hoarse but warm with affection as he took a sip of water. He was leaning heavily on his crutch that he still tried to insist he didn't need. The other boys were busy sharing their own sleepy banter, but you just smiled. “Of course, Moony. I wish you'd let me help more. I feel like I've become an animagus for nothing. I can still taste the mandrake leaf, I'll have you know.”
“I told you he wouldn't let you help like, five times!” James shouted ahead as he slipped back on his shirt. Remus strayed behind in his slowed step. Sirius shook his head.
“If we had it our way, and you weren't so spoiled, you wouldn't be one at all.” He snarked in all his grumpy morning glory and you gave a sarcastic laugh.
“What got up your ass this morning? Hopefully not Remus in his state.” 
Remus began to choke on the water you had given them and Sirius gawked at you. James let out a laugh so loud it startled a few birds from the trees.
Remus rolled his neck before he nudged you a bit and gave a low groan. “It will keep you safe. Just in case… you know, anything happens.” 
“Nothing will happen.” You assured and he shrugged, always ready to believe he could hurt you guys at any second.
“You never know.”
“You'd never hurt me, Remus.” You whispered and locked your arm with his. He shook his head.
“Moony would.” He challenged and you shook your head back at him.
“No, I mean, you wouldn't be able to. I am simply getting that good at self defense magic, didn't you hear our new professor? Could wipe the floor with em.” You cheeked and Remus gave you the most sour look you had ever seen, making you giggle.
“Can I?” Peter whispered from beside you and you handed him your water easily, giving a laugh when he threw it back and chucked the damn thing.
“Thirsty?”
“We shouldn't have drank.” He muttered and your jaw dropped.
“You four drank? That has to be illegal. More- more so illegal than whatever we have been doing so far.” You scolded and Remus just gave you a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, looking off into the forest with a playful huff. Only for you to pause when you saw some bit of blue behind you guys. 
You began to slow down more, furrowing your brow at the figure you swear you saw, just following you guys. Your arm untangled from Remus’s and he paused, looking back at you. Then, you saw cigarette smoke. You trailed back a bit more before you turned sharply. 
“I think I dropped something! I'll catch up!” You called back before you hurried down the trail. Looking along the tree line. Only then did you spot exactly who you thought you saw.
Barty looked at you with wide eyes, from the thicket of the trees. You two locked in a staring contest for a few moments before you heard Peter’s voice call out to you.
“You okay, Bambi?” He shouted and you quickly ran into the proper tree line. Grabbing Barty by his lapels and pushing his back against the nearest tree. He gave a small ‘oof’ as you took the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it on the ground, stomping it out.
He didn't react much besides rolling his head in annoyance and looking up at the leaves above you as you attempted to hide him. “What are you doing here?” You whisper hissed, assuming the worst.
He sucked his teeth a bit before looking down at you with a quirked eyebrow, “Can't take a morning stroll?”
“Were you following me?” You asked incredulously, stepping back from him as he fixed his uniform. “Not.. initially.” 
“Yo! Bambi, you alright?” Sirius called down and you pursed your lips, giving Barry a once over. He looked.. sad. Almost bored. Nothing like the playful boy in the library.
“Uhm… yes. Yes!” You shouted back. “Wardrobe malfunction! I have a spell for it, just run ahead!”
There was a long pause before Remus shouted back. “Alright!”
As you listened to the boy’s voices finally fade out into the background you slipped your hands in your robe pockets. 
“Why are you out here?” You finally asked and he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. He walked over to a well worn log and sat down. Looking back to the path one more time you finally sat by him, hugging your cold knees. 
He took off his robe and threw it over your lap. Before you could protest he took a letter from his pocket and handed it over to you. Taking out a box of smokes and starting another one.
You looked over the letter carefully, the envelope was beige but it had a blue stamp. Carefully, you unfolded it.
Bartemius,
I find it utterly disheartening that I must waste my precious time addressing your incessant foolishness yet again. Your childish antics are a stain on our family name, and quite frankly, I am beyond exhausted by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation. Another fight within a week? Pathetic.
How dare you presume to send a personal letter to my office as if your juvenile escapades warrant my attention? If I sought updates on your disgraceful behavior, I would have asked your mother- though I suspect she has long since learned to ignore your antics. It astounds me that you continue to associate with those beneath you, dragging my name through the mud and jeopardizing the reputation I have painstakingly built in the ministry.
Your conduct is an embarrassment, not just to yourself but to me and our entire lineage. I expect to see a marked improvement in your behavior, though I have little hope that you possess the maturity to effect any real change. If you cannot rise above your base instincts, you will remain nothing but a disappointment. Do not insult me further with your incompetence. 
You felt your heart clench tighter with each line you read. It was like someone had cut out the devil's tongue and used his linguistics to verbally lash the pages, and the lack of warmth in the words left you feeling hollow. It was hard to reconcile the boy you’d just been speaking with- the charming, playful Barty- with the boy described in this letter. 
Let alone a boy as sweet as Barty could be subject to this. Your thumbs began to crease the page the tighter you held it.
You knew you were lucky to have a father like yours. He would never speak down to you like this, he was the one who begged you to write. About anything and everything. 
“I wanted him to know I got all O’s.” He muttered, gesturing to the letter. You looked over to him in surprise as he tightened his jaw but kept his expression unreadable. “Should of known it wouldn't have impressed him.”
“Barty…” You whispered, looking up at him with concern etched across your features. You felt your eyes begin to sting and your vision blur. He was staring off into the distance, tense as he took a deep drag of the cigarette. How could someone be so cruel to him?
You schooled your expression, giving a sniff or two as you used your sleeve to dry your tears. Then, your turned to face him fully, pressing the letter firm against your lap.
“You impressed me.” You declared in a stern tone. He furrowed his brow and looked at you curiously. You kept a straight face. “It's impressive, Barty. It's impressive and.. I'm impressed.”
He gave a weak, almost scandalized laugh before he bit his cheek, trying to hide a smile. “You are?”
“Mhm.” You nodded earnestly and he gave a low chuckle as you began to sniff again to try and keep your tears back.
“So.. is that why you'd been avoiding me?” He mused and your shoulders sank a bit. You have a deep sigh and hugged your knees. Burying your face in his robe still draped over your legs.
There was a moment of pause before you finally gave in. “You're not.. you're not a bad person. I don't think you are.” You whispered. “But my brother does. And his friends.”
“So what?” He asked softly, no malice in his tone just genuine curiosity. 
You hesitated, the weight of your words hanging in the air. “So... I don’t want to get caught up in whatever is brewing around you. I know there's something. They care about me, and I care about them. I can’t just ignore it. And Lily she's...”
Barty’s expression shifted slightly, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. “You think I’m dangerous?”
“I think you have a reputation.” You countered, trying to keep your tone neutral even as your voice wavered. “And it’s not just who you hang around with. It’s the way people talk about you- like you’re some kind of monster. I've.. heard things. What you've done, I mean.”
He chuckled softly, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose I’ve earned that.” He admitted. “But I’m not dangerous. Not to you.”
You felt a pang of something- so heavy and tight in your chest at the way he said it. There was an honesty in his voice that made you hesitate, and for a moment, you saw not just the boy with the reputation, but someone who seemed genuinely weary of the way others perceived him. No.
The way you perceived him. The hypothetical danger he posed to you. He was more concerned with how you felt about him then anyone else.
“Then why do you hang around with them?” You asked, trying to understand. “You could easily distance yourself from them, you know. They are.. they are monsters, you know what they did to Mary and Lily. They are important to me.”
Barty shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that didn’t quite match the tension in his expression. “They’re... my friends. They understand the game. It’s easier to be with those who don’t expect me to be anything other than what I am.”
“But that's not fair.” You huffed boldly. “That's not fair to me. I won't pick between anyone and my friends because my answer will be my friends.”
“Yeah..” Barty took another long drag of his cigarette. “Me too.”
The weight of his words hung in the air between you two, a heavy silence stretching out as you both considered the implications. You had to let yourself realize that with a father like his… his friends were truly all he had. You watched as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, the tendrils swirling in the sunlight filtering through the trees. His face was partially shadowed, but you could see the conflict in his eyes- caught between the reputation he had and the reputation his friends built.
“So, you’re saying that you’d rather be with them, even if it puts you in a bad light?” You asked, your brows furrowing in concern. “Is that really worth it?”
Barty leaned back against the tree, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Not all of us can be Sirius Black.” He chuckled dark and your lip twitched. “Not all of us have a Potter waiting to save us and I'm not leaving Regulus alone either.”
You furrowed your brow at him and he just shrugged. “Why didn't Regulus come along?” You whispered softly and he shook his head.
“Wrong question star. It's not my job to question him. I'm the one who's there for him.” 
You stared at him for a moment longer and Barty met your eyes. It was like a stalemate for a good few minutes.
At that moment, you wondered if the houses were truly picked properly. Because you had never known anyone braver and more loyal than Bartemius Crouch Junior. You gave a low sigh and then smiled at him. He slowly returned it and your smile only widened.
Giving a small giggle he tossed his finished cigarette and held his hand out to you. You took it and he pulled you up, tossing his robe over his arm.
“You should run off now, yeah? Before your brother finds me defacing his sister's reputation.”
You shook your head with a bitter laugh. Taking a moment to appreciate him up close. Eventually, you gave in, getting on your toes and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. One that seemed to stun him.
“You really are remarkable, Barty.” You whispered and he couldn't hide his goofy and bright smile from you. 
“And you, Star Potter, are a beautiful experience, everytime.” He said, his voice low and earnest, a spark of genuine warmth in his gaze. You felt your heart flutter at his compliment, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this small pocket of time.
“Now, run along.” He whispered, his tone teasing as he stepped back, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “Don’t let them catch you talking to me, or they’ll think I’m corrupting you.”
You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to walk back toward the castle. “You wish you were that lucky!” You called over your shoulder, feeling lighter than you had in days.
He watched you go with a small sigh. Shamelessly he put the robe to his face he could smell the faintest linger of your perfume. His eyes closing tight, as the scent reminded him you were real. 
“Merlin, I really do.”
~~~
Sneaking around was your brother’s bread and butter, not yours. 
But you found it harder and harder to really stay away from Barty. His persistence didn't help.
Small things started happening. Like chocolates began to appear in your books, flowers showing up on your desk, and other small things that were undeniably Barty. You couldn't get away from him. Whether it was the shared glances or the way he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race, it was undeniable how much you were starting to fall for him.
You’d see him in the halls between classes, his eyes catching yours briefly before he flashed that charming smile. Sometimes he’d join you at the library, his presence both comforting and slightly thrilling. Each time felt like a secret shared in the quiet corners of Hogwarts, a world apart from the repetitive life of your friends. Not that you didn't love them- you adored them. 
But the attention was nice.
“I got an Outstanding!” Lily sang as she held up her test, smiling ear to ear. James gave a wolf whistle to make Lily laugh, earning a shove for it. 
Sirius looked at his parchment and gave a low whistle before carefully setting it back down, making the group laugh.
“That bad?” You cooed and Sirius smirked at you.
“Yeah? And what did you get, bambi?”
You bit your cheek and looked down at your parchment. Slowly turning it over with one eye closed, only to give a delighted gasp. “Ha! Outstanding!” 
You flashed the paper to the group and Remus gave a laugh, Sirius playfully glared at you and snatched the paper away from you. “Horseradish! You cheated.” He insisted and you laughed.
“I did not cheat!” You protested, trying to snatch your parchment back. “I just studied really hard!”
“Sure, sure,” Sirius said, grinning as he held it just out of your reach. “What’s your secret? Did you bribe Slughorn?”
“That didn't cross my mind, actually.” You cheeked, and Remus clicked his tongue with a playful shake of his head. “Disappointed.”
Sirius laughed, holding your parchment a little higher. “You could have had him eating out of your hand with some chocolate frogs, you know.”
“Next time, I’ll be sure to bring him a whole box.” You shot back with a grin, finally managing to snatch your parchment back.
“Look at my little sister!” James piped up, pinching your cheeks. “I knew you had brains in there somewhere!”
“Sod off!” You huffed and he just laughed, letting you go.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile at the actual cause of the O. As your brother and everyone began to get back to their idle chatter, you looked across the hall to the RavenClaw table, but you didn't see him. As your eyes drifted across the hall to the Slytherin table, you found your eyes trapped by a pair of stormy gray ones. Regulus Black simply nodded to you and looked down.
You wondered if he knew.
You pouted a bit before you looked back to the group. “I think I'll spend my free period at the library.” 
“Awe, booo.” Peter called across the table.
“Come on, Bambi, don’t be a hermit!” James chimed in, trying to coax you back into the conversation. “You just got an Outstanding! Celebrate a little, you'll turn into my Evans!”
Lily gave a scoff.
“Yeah, you deserve a break.” Sirius added, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “How about we all go to Hogsmeade this weekend? A little fun to reward your hard work?”
You hesitated, torn between the prospect of hanging out with your friends and the nagging feeling that you wanted to see Barty again. “I would like to. But I really should review.”
“Come on, bambi!” Sirius pleaded, leaning forward with that infamous grin of his. “You can study later! Hogsmeade is a perfect way to unwind. Plus, we’re all going together. It’ll be fun!”
You bit your lip, glancing toward the Ravenclaw table again, half-hoping to see Barty’s unmistakable figure. He still wasn’t there. “I really should-”
“Should what?” James interjected, crossing his arms in an exaggerated manner. “Your grades won’t crumble if you take one break. Besides, you’ve been studying like a madwoman. You deserve a little fun. We haven't really hung out since you started this new study obsession.”
“Yeah! What’s the point of getting good marks if you can’t enjoy yourself?” Sirius chimed in. 
You sighed, biting your cheek. While you loved your friends and cherished the time spent with them, the thought of Barty lingered in your mind. “I just think I can study more effectively if I focus on Potions right now.”
“Come on’, you can’t keep avoiding social interactions forever!” Sirius exclaimed dramatically. “You’ll turn into a hermit! Just imagine it: ‘Bambi, the hermit of Hogwarts’- it has a nice ring to it, actually.” He mumbled.
You giggled despite yourself, but the thought of Barty won over. “Sorry boys.”
“I think it's a good idea.” Lily hummed and you felt a bit guilty. Giving a firm nod and gathering your things and hurrying out of the hall before they could continue to protest. 
The soft breeze from outside pushed back your hair a bit as you walked. The smell of the great hall flickered out and was soon replaced by the not entirely pleasant dampness of the dungeons. You weren't walking down the halls for long before you were suddenly yanked into a broom closet so fast you squealed.
Quickly a hand came over your mouth and you- like a normal person would- freaked out. Slamming your head back into the unseen attacker’s face. You heard a groan as he let go and spun around, only to stare at Barty with wide eyes. His hand covering his bruising nose and smiling at you.
“You scared the daylights out of me!” You scolded quickly, pushing away your embarrassment and annoyance with him- especially since he got such a strong reaction out of you. He just smiled and chuckled at you. 
“Sorry, sorry.” He muttered. He had such a pretty smile, even when he was being an absolute moron. Oh, you owe Lily so many apologies. His hands slipped into his pockets as his shaggy hair fell a bit over his face. 
“Just had to see you.” He whispered and you nodded.
“There are better what's to get a girl’s attention.” You muttered and he couldn't stop smiling at you.  “Does it still hurt?”
You muttered softly and he nodded, leaning down a bit to your height. You smirked and raised your finger as if it was your wand. “‘tears be gone and magic be strong.” You whispered and he gave a low hum.
“You know…”
“Hm?”
“I'm not a kid anymore.” He chuckled and you flushed a bit, rolling your eyes. 
“You could've had me fooled. What do you want me to do? Don't pull girls into a closet- no, don't pull anyone into broom closets.” You scolded and he just laughed, again, the most beautiful sound you'd heard all day.
“How about you kiss it better?” He pushed and you gave a snort. 
“So you are a kid?”
“Come on.” He whined and gave you his best puppy dog eyes. “You hurt me, star.”
You held back a laugh, though the urge to playfully shove him away was strong. Instead, you gently cupped his face, watching his expression soften as you leaned in, pressing a quick, light kiss to his nose.
He closed his eyes, humming contentedly at the contact. “Again.” He murmured, barely opening his eyes.
“Needy.” You teased, but obliged, giving him another small kiss. He muttered the same request, and you rolled your eyes, leaning in to pepper his nose with a flurry of quick kisses, each one lighter and faster than the last.
But then, just as your last kiss hovered, he lifted his chin, guiding your lips to his. You gasped softly at the unexpected move, but he only pulled you closer, hands shifting from your hips to your waist, deepening the kiss. You couldn’t help but smile against his mouth, warmth flooding through you as you melted into him.
“Cheeky.” You murmured against his lips.
You felt the gentle rumble of his laughter as he held you tighter, closing every bit of space between you until it felt like you’d always belonged there, tangled in his arms, with nothing left between you but the sound of his heart beating against yours.
“Congratulations on potions.” He mumbled and he stepped a bit closer to you. Leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.
You giggled and slipped your hands up his arms, grabbing his biceps and your laughter getting louder as his kisses became a bit more sloppy and messy. From your temple to your cheek to your neck. Devolving you both into laughter and loving kisses.
“Barty?” You whispered and he kissed from where his lips we pressed to your ear. 
“Mhm?”
“You should kiss my lips again.”
He paused and slowly his lips curled up into a smirk against your neck. “Anything you want, star.” 
He slowly kissed a trail up your neck, to your chin, to you cheek. You were growing a bit impatient, but you couldn't bring yourself to be mad about it. It was slow and sweet. The opposite of him.
The anticipation built with each gentle kiss, and when Barty finally pressed his lips to yours, nothing else mattered. The kiss was everything you hoped it would be; soft, warm, and filled with all the excitement from the sneaking around you had been doing.
You both pulled back slightly, your foreheads resting against each other as you shared a quiet moment, the sound of your mingled laughter still lingering in the air. He was warm, he always was. Just quiet and content. "I've been wanting to do that for a while.” Barty admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his confession. "Me too."
After a moment of pause, Bart slipped his hands out of his pockets and around your waist. You slowly opened your eyes to see he was staring at you so obviously. So much affection and.. pain in his eyes. Carefully your reached up from his shoulders to tangle in his hair. 
“Baby.” You cooed, watching as the black pupils of his eyes grew twice their size. 
“I love when you call me that.” He whispered and kissed you again. This time, with a bit more hunger for it. 
The intensity of the kiss took you by surprise, yet it felt natural, as if this was where you were always meant to be. Barty's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if trying to erase any lingering distance between you. The world outside the broom closet faded away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, private moment. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that mirrored the emotions you'd both been holding back for so long.
When you finally broke apart, both of you slightly breathless, Barty rested his forehead against yours again. "I need to know.” He whispered. “You're my girl, yeah?”
“Yours.” You confirmed without hesitation. “Your girl.”
Barty's eyes softened, and a relieved smile spread across his face, as if the weight of uncertainty had been lifted. You hadn't realized that for these past few weeks, despite all the flirting and stray touches, the meetings and secret rendezvous you'd never confirmed what felt so obvious to you.
"Good.” He murmured, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek. "Good.”
The two of you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, savoring the stillness and the shared understanding that had only deepened. It was rare to find moments like these at Hogwarts, where every day was bustling with activity and noise, but here, in the quiet confines of the broom closet, you had carved out your own little haven.
"We should probably get back before they start wondering where we are.” You whispered reluctantly, knowing that duty and friendships couldn't be ignored forever. If Remus or anyone went looking in the library for you it was over, Merlin if they pulled out that map they loved to use on you so much you were done for.
Barty nodded, though he made no move to let you go just yet. "I suppose. But we’ll have more time together soon, right?"
"Definitely.” You assured him, smiling as you reluctantly stepped back, already anticipating the next secret meeting, the next shared glance across the crowded halls.
As you both emerged from the broom closet, the world seemed a little brighter, the halls a little more welcoming. And as you parted ways with a lingering look, you knew this was just the beginning of something wonderful.
~~~
You never thought Barty was capable of restraint- his affections for you were never a secret. He had been bold from the start, confessing his feelings on your first meeting as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You assumed he couldn’t hold back if he tried. But the truth was, you had underestimated him completely.
You were a Potter, you were no stranger to a love that burrowed into your heart like a bug. James was a prime example, but he had nothing on your father. You knew love like you knew the sunrise, Potters were love. That still didn't prepare you for the love of Barty Crouch Junior.
The moment you became ‘Barty’s girl,’ subtle gestures turned into grand, unrelenting declarations. Flowers appeared on your bedside in ornate bouquets, chocolates transformed into extravagant assortments, and he began slipping you old notes from his classes, annotated with messages he thought you’d enjoy. Sometimes, you’d find an anonymous love letter tucked between the pages of your books, though you always recognized his handwriting. It was a whirlwind of adoration that grew so excessive even your friends couldn’t ignore it.
The rumor spread quickly: you had a secret admirer. A very devoted one.
What started as stolen glances in the hallways and whispered words in broom closets evolved into something deeper. He became a constant, pulling you into hidden spaces where he’d kiss you like you were the only real thing in his world. His kisses were desperate, his hands always seeking some part of you to hold, as if he feared you might slip through his fingers.
Your world shrank to accommodate him. It was thrilling, yes, but also overwhelming. Each secret meeting was marked by a mix of exhilaration and dread that only lended to thrive in you, every touch, every breathless encounter behind closed doors, reminded you how deeply tangled you were becoming in each other. It was intoxicating and dangerous, like standing too close to a fire.
When he looked at you, it was like he was trying to memorize your every detail, like you were his only source of light. 
“You don’t know what you do to me,” He murmured one night, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead against yours. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing the curve of your jaw as his eyes searched yours with raw intensity. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’d burn the whole world down if it meant keeping you.”
You shivered, his words igniting a heat in your chest. “Barty…”
His lips crashed against yours, swallowing the rest of your words. The kiss was frantic, a collision of need and longing, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you closer, like he couldn’t get enough of you. Your knees buckled slightly, but his arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you, grounding you. 
“You’re mine,” He whispered against your lips, his voice low and fervent. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.” You breathed, the words spilling out before you could stop them. And it was true- somehow, he’d claimed parts of you you didn’t even know existed. You couldn't even fathom were your breath started and his ended. 
He sought you out in the quiet moments, trailing his fingertips down your arm when no one was looking, writing your name in the margins of his notes when he thought you wouldn’t see. You began to realize that to him, you weren’t just a girl he fancied; you were his anchor, his sanctuary in a world that seemed determined to tear him apart. He was becoming yours too.
Your eyes searched for him in every room. The way he flashed you that sickeningly slick smirk when he caught you staring. How he would follow you out of any room you happened to share, just to steal you away from whatever task he deemed not more important then his time with you. Shushing you in empty corridors as his hands found a spot just above your skirt. Ruffling your tie in slight frustration and marking skin no one would see but him. All while looking at you  like you were his last salvation.
~~~
The fire crackled in the hearth as you sat cross-legged on your bed, your Transfiguration book open in front of you. Lily sat at your desk, rifling through her notes, while Remus lounged on your bed, one arm thrown casually over the back of a pillow. The three of you had settled in for a relaxed study session, but conversation had drifted away from studies.
"So, are we ever going to find out who it is that's got you all flustered lately?" Remus asked with a teasing grin, nudging your ankle with his foot. Lily looked up from her notes, her eyebrows raising with interest.
"Oh, Remus, give her a break," Lily sighed with a small smile, though you could see the curiosity twinkling in her green eyes. "She’ll tell us when she’s ready."
You felt warmth rise to your cheeks, and you gave Remus a playful kick back. "You’re both ridiculous," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "There’s no one."
Remus rolled his eyes, his smile widening. "Sure, and I'm the Minister of Magic."
You shook your head, flipping open your Transfiguration book to avoid his gaze. "Fascinating. The Minister and all- and you can't even tell me which wand motion is the proper technique to transfigure my desk. Study don't pry into my very uninteresting love life."
"Uninteresting, huh?" Lily asked, her voice laced with skepticism. "I don’t know, those flowers you’ve been getting seem pretty interesting to me."
You opened your mouth to retort when something caught your eye; a folded piece of parchment, carefully tucked between the pages of your book. You furrowed your brow as you pulled it out, unfolding it to see the familiar slanted handwriting of Barty.
Meet me in my dorm. I’ve got something to show you.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly folded the note, trying to suppress the smile threatening to spread across your face. You slipped the parchment under your pillow, feeling both Remus’ and Lily’s eyes on you.
"What’s that?" Remus asked, his smirk only growing.
"Nothing," you said quickly, giving them both a bright smile. "Just a reminder for myself."
Lily narrowed her eyes playfully, clearly not buying it, but she didn’t push. "Alright, fine," she said, glancing at the clock on your bedside table. "But I think I should be getting back to my own dorm soon. I promised James I'd meet him."
You nodded, swinging your legs off the bed. "Yeah, I should… um, I’ll be back in a bit."
Remus gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything as you grabbed your robe and made your way towards the door, feeling the folded note burning against your skin. You slipped out of the room, trying to keep your excitement in check as you made your way through the castle.
Not long after you left, James appeared in the doorway, his hair as untidy as ever and a bright smile lighting up his face. "There you are, Evans," he said, striding into the room without knocking. "Ready to go?"
Lily stood, gathering her notes, but before she could respond, James’ eyes flickered to your bed, where the edge of the note you’d tucked under your pillow peeked out. His eyes narrowed slightly, and with the mischievous curiosity that had always been a part of him, he reached over and pulled it out.
"What’s this, then?" James asked, more to himself than anyone else.
Lily turned, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the note. "James, put that back. It's not yours."
But James had already unfolded it, his eyes scanning the words. His playful smile faltered slightly, his brow furrowing as he read the message. “... she's meeting someone. At night.”
Remus wasn't proud of himself, but he felt his body jolt forward at the idea. His brow furrowing as he looked at the handwriting. 
“Surely not.” Lily muttered skeptical, walking closer and pouting. “James, whose handwriting is that?”
“Don't know.” He mumbled before he glanced at Remus who grimaced a bit. “I know how to find out.”
~~~
The sun had long since set, plunging the room into shadow. The lone candle on the nightstand burned low, its golden light flickering uncertainly across the walls, casting fleeting glimpses of the intimacy shared within. You lay beside Barty on his narrow bed, his body curled protectively around yours. His hand cradled your cheek, thumb tracing gentle lines as if memorizing your face. His other hand gripped your waist, not possessively but securely, as though grounding himself in the reality of your presence.
His green eyes, bright and intent, held yours with a tenderness so consuming it made your chest ache. The world outside seemed to vanish in this space- no war, no sides, no betrayals. Just the boy you loved, smiling softly at you like you were the only thing keeping him alive.
"What are you smiling about?" You teased, brushing your nose against his, your fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck. He sighed at the touch, his eyes fluttering closed briefly before fixing on you again, filled with the kind of raw vulnerability he showed to no one else.
This was your Barty. The boy who could switch so drastically between needing every bit of your skin against his own, and loving you like you were a fragile truth.
"Just you." He murmured, his voice thick with affection, his smile deepening. "Thinking about how breath taking you look right now.."
Your heart swelled at his words, at the way he looked at you as if you were his last breath. You pressed your lips to his, slow and soft, letting the warmth of his embrace spread through you. His arms tightened around you, his desperation seeping through the way he held you close, as though he feared you might disappear. 
But even in this fragile moment, reality intruded. Your lips trailed down his jaw, leaving a line of soft kisses along his neck. As your hand slipped beneath the sleeve of his shirt, your fingers brushed against something rough, foreign. You froze, your heart stuttering as your fingertips traced the unfamiliar texture.
"Barty, what’s this?" You asked, pulling back slightly, your brow furrowing as dread began to creep into your chest. “Did you get a new tattoo?”
His entire body went rigid. His eyes snapped open, the warmth in them replaced by something colder, darker. His hand shot to your wrist, gripping it with startling intensity, though his touch remained gentle. “It’s nothing.” He said- no, demanded quickly, but his voice cracked, and his gaze flickered away. The tension in his jaw, the way he avoided your eyes. It betrayed him.
He couldn't hide from you. Not after he'd given you every way to see him.
"Barty.” You pressed, your voice trembling now. "Show me."
For a long moment, he didn’t move, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the faint twitch of muscle. His eyes darted to yours, filled with a fear so raw it sent a chill through you. Slowly, with trembling hands, he rolled up his sleeve.
The world seemed to stop.
Etched into his pale skin, dark and stark against the flickering candlelight, was the unmistakable mark of the Death Eaters. Your breath hitched, the air in the room turning ice cold as you stared at the symbol that now defined him. The room, once warm and safe, felt suffocating, as though the walls were closing in around you.
"No.” You whispered, shaking your head, your voice breaking as tears stung your eyes. "No, Barty, tell me this isn’t real. Tell me it’s a joke. Please." 
He reached for you, his expression desperate, pleading. "It’s not what you think.” He whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his own guilt. "Please, just listen- fuck, let me explain."
"Explain?" You choked, the word a bitter laugh as you scrambled to sit up, the sheets tangling around your legs. “You’re one of them, Barty. A Death Eater. The people who are trying to kill my brother, who would destroy Lily, who hate everything I stand for. How could you? How could you do this?”
He flinched as if you’d struck him, his hands trembling as he reached for you again. “I did it for them,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “For Regulus. For Evan. They needed me- I had to protect them.”
Your laughter came out hollow, bitter. “Protect them? What about me, Barty? What about us? Did you think of me when you let that thing be branded onto your skin? Did you think about what it would mean? About the promises we made?”
“I love you.” He pleaded, his voice breaking on the words. His eyes, wide and glistening with unshed tears, bore into yours, his desperation bleeding through every syllable. “I love you more than anything in this world. I did this for us; for you. I thought I could keep you safe.”
You shook your head, your chest tight, every word he spoke only twisting the knife in your heart. “Safe? You think this is keeping me safe? Barty, you’ve tied yourself to the very people who want to destroy me, my family, my friends. Dorcas got out. She didn’t need to join them. She did it for Marlene! You had a choice, Barty. You could have chosen me.”
“Don’t do this.” He begged, his voice trembling as he sank to his knees in front of you, his hands clutching at yours. “Please, don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I can’t- I won’t survive it. You’re all I have.”
His raw vulnerability shattered something in you, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing anchoring him to humanity. But even that couldn’t change the mark on his arm, the choices he had made. You tore your hands from his grasp, stepping back as tears streamed down your face.
“I can’t do this.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to hold yourself together. “I can’t be with someone who’s made that choice. Picking that side. Not when it means standing against everything I believe in. I love you, Barty, but this…” Your voice broke. “This isn’t love. Not when it costs so much.”
His face crumpled, his body trembling as he clung to the edge of the bed like it was the only thing holding him up. “You are my side,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re everything to me. Without you, I’m nothing. Darling, please. You have to trust me.”
Your heart shattered at his words, but you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t let your love for him blind you to the truth of what he had become. Turning away, you moved toward the door, each step feeling like a physical wound.
“Please.” He whispered one last time, his voice so broken it nearly stopped you in your tracks. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll fix it. I'll fix us, darling, my love.”
You hesitated, your hand on the doorknob, tears blurring your vision. “I’m sorry, Barty,” you whispered, your voice trembling with grief. “But you’ve chosen a side. And it isn’t mine.”
With that, you stepped out of the room, the soft click of the door behind you sealing the final break between you. Each step down the hallway felt like walking through fire, the ache in your chest consuming you. You pressed a hand to your mouth to stifle a sob, the image of him- broken, desperate, lost- burned into your mind.
But you kept walking, because if you turned back, you knew you’d never leave. And that was the one thing you couldn’t allow. 
Not when his love came with a price you could no longer bear to pay.
~~~
It was well past curfew when you stumbled back into the dormitory, your body heavy with exhaustion and your heart feeling as though it had been shattered into pieces too small to ever put back together. Every step echoed hollowly in the silent hallways, the sound swallowed by the crushing weight in your chest. You didn’t care about the risk of being caught; the only thing propelling you forward was the desperate need to collapse, to sink into the safety of your bed where the world couldn’t reach you. 
But the sight that greeted you when you pushed open the door wasn’t the solitude you craved.
James stood with the Marauder's Map clutched tightly in his hand, his face flushed with a mix of anger and worry that twisted painfully at the sight of you. Sirius paced like a caged animal, his jaw tight, his dark eyes alight with barely restrained frustration. Remus sat perched on the edge of your bed, his brow furrowed with concern, while Lily lingered by the desk, her green eyes soft and filled with sympathy. Peter, as always, quiet. Hovering in the background.
"There you are!" James's voice rang out, sharp and filled with barely contained emotion. The sound made you flinch, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He crossed the space between you in two quick strides, holding up the map like a damning piece of evidence. “You want to tell me what the hell you were doing in the Ravenclaw dorms? Or should I save you the trouble? I know who you were with.”
The accusation in his voice hit like a physical blow. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The fight you would usually summon to deflect his concern- the sarcasm or sharp retorts; was gone. It had crumbled under the weight of the truth you could no longer avoid. Your shoulders slumped, the tears you had tried so desperately to hold back beginning to blur your vision.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you, James.” You muttered, though your voice was a faint shadow of its usual strength. It trembled, hollow and lifeless, like it no longer belonged to you.
James scoffed, his frustration boiling over. "Don’t have to explain? You’ve been sneaking around with him! Don’t you see what he is?” His voice cracked, the anger giving way to something far more fragile. "He’s one of them, isn’t he? A bloody Death Eater.”
His words were a knife twisting in your chest. You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath, your body trembling under the weight of his accusation. But you didn’t deny it. You couldn’t. Because James was right. He had been right all along. 
"Say something!" Sirius’s voice cut through the silence, raw and desperate. He stepped closer, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, his pacing halted by his need for answers. His sharp gaze burned into you, searching for some explanation, some reassurance that you hadn’t fallen so deeply into something so dangerous. He couldn't bare to see you follow, not after losing Regulus to it. “Anything.”
Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you whispered, “You were right.” The words came out broken, each one heavier than the last. “You were both right… about everything.”
The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of your admission pressing down on everyone. James’s expression crumbled, his anger dissolving into a mix of heartbreak and understanding. He moved toward you, his voice soft and filled with pain. “Oh, sweetheart…” He murmured, reaching for you.
That was all it took. The dam inside you broke, and a sob tore its way out of your chest. James pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as your knees buckled beneath you. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his robes, your whole body trembling.
“I thought he loved me.” You choked out, the words spilling from your lips in between gasps for breath. “I thought- he said he loved me. But he lied. He lied to me.”
James’s arms tightened around you, his own tears slipping silently down his face. “I know,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I know, Bambi. I’m so sorry.”
Sirius stepped forward then, his anger replaced by an aching sadness. His hand rested on your back, tentative at first, before he let out a shaky breath. “We were only trying to protect you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “We didn’t want this for you. We didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Lily knelt beside you, her warm hand brushing against your arm as she looked up at you, her eyes filled with sympathy. “We’re here now,” she said gently. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ve got you.”
You turned to her, your tear-streaked face trembling as you met her gaze. “I don’t know what to do now,” you admitted, your voice small and broken.
Remus, silent until now, stepped closer and placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was steady, grounding. “You take it one step at a time,” he said softly, his calm voice a lifeline. “Just breathe for me. Ten in, ten out. We’ll figure it out together.”
You nodded, trying to follow his guidance, your breaths still shaky but slowing little by little. The sobs subsided, leaving you with a hollow ache in your chest that felt impossibly heavy. 
“Come on.” He whispered, his voice filled with a protective warmth. “Let’s get you into bed. You don’t have to think about anything else tonight.”
You nodded with a distant look, letting him coax you into your bed. You felt like a child.
“Jamie, let's head back to the dorms, yeah?” Lily said quietly, her eyes flicking to James, who stood near the foot of your bed, still looking worried. 
“But..” James started, staring at your slightly trembling form, reluctant to leave you like this. He wanted to protect you, to make sure you were okay, but the look Remus gave him was enough to hold him back. Remus’s gaze was gentle but resolute, silently reassuring James that he would be here, that he’d stay by your side tonight. 
James sighed, his reluctance clear, but he finally nodded. He glanced at Sirius, then back to Remus, letting out a slow breath. “Right. Let’s let her rest then?” 
“Yeah,” Lily whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the back of your head. She lingered for a moment, her hand still gently stroking your hair. “We’ll be back in the morning.” 
Sirius looked like he was about to protest, his expression torn between wanting to stay and knowing he had to let you rest. But Remus quietly reached for the familiar book on your nightstand. He shuffled slightly, getting comfortable next to you. Remus turned his head to look at Sirius, offering a reassuring nod. 
“I’ve got her,” he said softly, his voice calm and steady. It was enough to ease some of the tension in the room. Sirius hesitated for a moment longer, then gave a small, reluctant nod. He exchanged one last glance with James before following Lily towards the door. 
James lingered just a heartbeat longer, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Get some sleep, alright?” He whispered, his voice filled with love and concern. “We’ll be here when you wake up.” 
“Goodnight, Bambi.” Peter mumbled from the same spot he stood earlier, slowly shying behind James as he left. And with that, they left the room, the door closing softly behind them. The silence settled back over the room, and Remus turned towards you, his presence a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone. He carefully opened the book, his fingers brushing over the worn pages. 
His voice, quiet and soothing, filled the room as he began to read, his words wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. You turned slightly, facing Remus, his voice becoming a soft rhythm that helped to steady your breaths, one at a time. His free hand rested near yours, close enough that if you wanted, you could reach for it. He didn’t push. He simply stayed, his calm presence anchoring you. Eventually, as his gentle voice lulled you, the weight on your chest seemed to lighten just a fraction, and you let your eyes drift shut. For the first time that night, you allowed yourself to let go, to let the exhaustion take over. The sound of Remus’s voice, the warmth of his presence, made it feel just a little bit more bearable.
~~~
You woke the next morning to soft murmurs drifting through your dormitory. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting the walls in a gentle glow. For a moment, the warmth tricked you into thinking everything was fine. But then the memories of the night before came flooding back. Barty’s betrayal, the heartbreak, the fight- and the ache in your chest returned with full force.
You forced yourself to sit up, rubbing at your stinging eyes. Across the room, you saw Lily and Remus speaking quietly near the window. Lily noticed you first, her soft smile tinged with sadness. She crossed the room, settling beside you and placing a comforting hand on your arm. 
“Morning.” She said gently, her voice careful, as though she were afraid you might shatter under the weight of it all. “How are you feeling?”
You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I don’t know,” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Your body felt heavy, like every muscle was pulling you back down into the mattress, but the weight wasn’t comforting- it was suffocating.
Remus moved closer, offering you a steaming cup of tea. “Take your time.” He mused, his gaze steady and kind. You accepted the cup with a small nod, letting the warmth seep into your hands even if it couldn’t reach your heart.
You hesitated before asking, “James?” The one person you were dreading facing. 
Lily and Remus exchanged a glance. “He’s alright,” Lily said gently. “Probably caught up with Head Boy duties. He’s just worried about you.”
You nodded, guilt twisting in your chest. “I didn’t want to upset him…”
Lily squeezed your arm. “He loves you. He just needs time to process everything. He’ll come around.”
Remus gave you a soft smile. “How about some fresh air? It might help clear your head.”
Reluctantly, you agreed. Staying in bed wouldn’t make anything better, and maybe the cold air would numb more than just your fingers. You wrapped a robe around yourself and followed Remus and Lily out of the tower, their steady presence keeping you grounded as you moved through the quiet castle halls. Each step felt like a small victory against the chaos inside your heart.
Just as you began to feel the chill of the air prickling your skin, a familiar voice shouting down the hall made your blood run cold. The words were indistinct, but the rage behind them was unmistakable. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you quickened your pace, your pulse pounding.
When you turned the corner, the scene stopped you in your tracks. James had Barty pinned against the wall, his fist gripping the collar of Barty’s shirt. His face was twisted in fury, his voice shaking as he snarled at him. A small crowd of students had gathered, whispering and watching the spectacle unfold.
“You think you can just hurt her?” James spat, slamming Barty against the stone wall. “You think there wouldn’t be consequences?”
Barty didn’t fight back. He stood there, taking every shove, his face pale and hollow, but his eyes- his eyes betrayed him. They weren’t empty; they were frantic, burning with guilt, fear, and something that terrified you when they flicked to your own. He didn’t even seem to register James’s words. His entire focus was on you, standing frozen in the hallway.
Sirius leaned casually against the wall nearby, a cigarette dangling from his lips, though his sharp eyes were anything but relaxed. “Go on, Prongs,” he muttered, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Give him hell.”
Your voice cracked as you shoved through the onlookers. “James, stop!” You shouted, panic lacing your words. But James didn’t hear you, his rage blinding him as he shoved Barty again, his voice trembling with emotion. 
“You don’t get to treat her like that, to use her, and walk away like nothing happened!” James’s fist cocked back, and you screamed again, louder this time. “James!”
Sirius turned, startled by the desperation in your voice. He immediately straightened, stepping toward James. “Mate,” Sirius hissed, grabbing James’s shoulder. “She’s here.”
James froze, his chest heaving as he turned to look at you. His face softened the instant he saw the tears streaking your cheeks, but the tension in his body didn’t fade entirely. He let go of Barty’s shirt with a sharp shove, his hands falling to his sides. 
Barty stumbled back, his hand reaching up to rub his neck, but his eyes were locked on you. His voice was hoarse and trembling when he finally spoke. “Please…” His gaze was raw, desperate. “Please, just talk to me.”
You froze, the pain in his eyes tugging at something in your chest even as you recoiled from him. “I don’t want to-”
“She doesn’t need to,” Remus’s voice cut in, low but firm as he stepped in front of you. He placed a steady hand on your arm, keeping you rooted beside him. “That's all, Crouch.”
Barty flinched at the tone in Remus’s voice, but he didn’t look away from you. “I just need a moment,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “Just one chance to explain- she has to know that I didn’t mean-” 
“Bartemius.” Remus said sharply, though his tone never rose. His calmness was like a dam, holding back the chaos in the room. He stepped forward slightly, his hand still on your arm. “That's all.”
Barty’s shoulders sagged, his face crumpling as he looked at you one last time. “I love you.” He whispered, his voice so broken it sent a chill down your spine. “You have to know that.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Remus gently tugged you closer to him, shielding you from Barty’s gaze. “Come on,” he murmured softly. “Let’s go.”
As Lily took your other side, guiding you down the hallway, you could feel Barty’s eyes following you, like he was clinging to the sight of you as his last lifeline. Behind you, Sirius muttered something sharp under his breath before stomping out his cigarette and following James, who stood frozen, his jaw tight as he stared after you.
You felt like a pathetic child. Being ushered around and babied, but you didn't fight it. You wanted this nightmare of a year to be over. 
So when Regulus and Evan finally came, and the Black brothers shared some hateful words- and Lily dragged James away from the impending fight, you stayed hidden under Remus’s arm. The yelling and the arguments just sounded like buzzing in your ears. Leaving you to stare blankly off at the mess you had created. Watching as Evan took Barty away and Regulus glanced at you with an expression that flashed between sour, sympathetic, and careful. Turning on his heel to hurry after his friends. You wanted this year to end.
~~~
The rest of your sixth year at Hogwarts passed in a haze. After the confrontation between James and Barty, you felt like you were living in fragments- moments of warmth with your friends interrupted by long, suffocating stretches of numbness. James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, and Peter had rallied around you, protective and supportive, but the pain lingered. Barty’s betrayal, his mark, the weight of his choices. It all clung to you, no matter how hard you tried to shake it.
The school year ended with bittersweet farewells. James and everyone graduated, leaving behind an emptiness that Hogwarts couldn’t fill. On the train ride home, James gave you a fierce hug, his voice low but steady. “You’re going to be okay.” He whispered, as if saying it enough times would make it true. “We’ll all be okay.” His determination was a promise: he would fight, protect, and do whatever it took to keep you and the people he loved safe. It terrified how how devoted to the war he became, he hated to leave you at Hogwarts alone.
But the summer brought its own heartbreak. James and Lily joined the Order of the Phoenix, Sirius, Peter, and Remus close behind- throwing themselves into the war. The house was too quiet without James’s booming laugh or Sirius’s teasing remarks. Letters from James came sporadically, and the tension in his words bled through the parchment. 
Then, not long after James and Lily’s wedding, your world shattered. Your parents got sick and you hardly left their bed side. They died days apart and you wondered if that's what it looks like; real love. Not able to be apart for even a week before returning to one another no matter what disaster they left behind. Though, you knew it wasn't true, just your own comfort. James, crushed under the weight of his grief, threw himself further into the Order. You rarely saw him. Remus kept you company as best he could, but even he had missions that pulled him away. Sirius made sure to remind you that James just wanted to protect what little family he had left, it killed you to not be there with them. The isolation was unbearable, every goodbye feeling like it could be the last. The ache of losing your family was only worsened by the fear that the rest of the people you loved would follow.
When you returned for your seventh year, Hogwarts felt hollow, almost unfamiliar without James, Sirius, or the others. But Dorcas Meadowes was there, refusing to leave you to fend for yourself. She became your constant companion, the person you leaned on most. The two of you forged a quiet understanding- she never pushed you to talk about Barty, and you never asked about the darkness she’d left behind. Dorcas was the girl who had escaped the worst parts of her legacy, a beacon of strength and resilience that kept you grounded.
Still, no matter how far you tried to distance yourself from Barty, he remained a presence in your life. Letters appeared on your bed, scribbled with frantic apologies. Flowers were left outside your dormitory door, wilting reminders of his desperation. He cornered you in empty corridors, his green eyes burning with longing as he begged you to listen.
“I love you,” He whispered one evening, his voice breaking as he blocked your path outside the library. “I’ve always loved you- since we were kids. You have to know that. What I did- it wasn’t about hurting you. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought…” He trailed off, his hands trembling at his sides. “I need you, star. I can’t do this without you.”
You clenched your fists, your chest tightening at the raw emotion in his voice. His words always left a mark, reopening wounds you were desperately trying to heal. “Barty.” You whispered quietly, your voice shaking. “You need to let me go. This… this isn’t love. Not when it hurts this much.”
He flinched as though you’d slapped him, his eyes filling with tears. “It is love,” He insisted, stepping closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve never felt this before- it's terrifying. I haven't been in this much pain before. I’d give you anything- everything- if you just came back to me. Star I can't do this.”
You shook your head, your breath hitching. “That’s not what I want. I don't like feeling like this either, Barty. I wanted you, Barty. But you made your choice. Your cause- what they have done to my family alone-”
Despite your protests, the line between you blurred one night near the end of the school year. He found you in the Astronomy Tower, the only place you could escape responsibility. The sight of him made your heart ache. He looked so much like the boy you had fallen for; tousled hair, eyes filled with a longing so fierce it made your knees weak. And for a moment, you forgot yourself.
“I hate what I’ve done to you,” He confessed, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “I hate that I’ve hurt you. But I can’t stop loving you.”
The vulnerability in his voice cracked something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, your lips met his. The kiss was frantic, desperate. His hands cradled your face as though you were something sacred, something he couldn’t bear to lose. For a fleeting moment, you let yourself drown in him, in the memory of what you once had.
But as quickly as it began, reality crashed over you. You pulled away, your breathing uneven as tears blurred your vision. “We can’t.” You whispered, stepping back. “This isn’t right.”
Barty reached for you, his voice trembling. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t walk away again. I’ll change- I’ll leave everything behind if that’s what it takes. Just… don’t leave me.”
The sincerity in his words nearly broke you, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “If you loved me, you would’ve chosen me before it came to this,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “But it’s too late, Barty. You can’t undo what’s been done. We both.. we both know if it came to me or Regulus- me or Evan.”
“That's not fair.” He croaked.
Your eyes flicked up to his as your tears rushed down your face. “It isn't.”
His shoulders slumped, the light in his eyes dimming as your words sank in. For the first time, he seemed to realize that no amount of pleading or promises would bring you back to him. “I’ll always love you.” whispered, his voice hollow.
You turned away, your heart shattering as you walked down the spiral staircase, leaving him alone in the tower. You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. You knew if you did, you’d lose your resolve.
When the train pulled into King’s Cross at the end of the year, you were greeted by the sight of your brother and his friends waiting for you. James’s grin was wide as he swept you into a bear hug, and for the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe again. Sirius ruffled your hair, Remus gave you a reassuring smile, and Lily’s arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. 
Even as you smiled, as you let yourself feel the warmth of their love and support, a part of you still ached. A part of you still thought of the boy you had left behind. But as the summer sun warmed your face and James’s laughter rang in your ears, you realized that some chapters had to end, no matter how much they hurt.
~~~
The kitchen was warm, filled with the comforting smell of breakfast and the sound of soft laughter. Lily twirled Harry in her arms, humming along to the radio as James danced beside them, making ridiculous faces to elicit another bright giggle from his son. Harry’s laughter rang out like a bell, pure and joyful, filling the room with a happiness so genuine it felt almost untouchable.
June 24, 1981. The day meant nothing and yet everything, because for a fleeting moment, life felt like it was untouched by war. Even without Peter, the Potter manor felt like home again. 
Sirius leaned against the counter, a mischievous grin lighting his face as he watched James spin Harry dramatically before dipping him like a proper ballroom partner. “Fancy a dance, Bambi?” Sirius asked, holding out a hand to you with an exaggerated flourish.
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. “Only if you promise not to step on my feet, Black.” You placed your hand in his, letting him pull you into the center of the kitchen. The music was upbeat, and Sirius matched it with absurdly exaggerated movements, twirling you around with flair that made you laugh so hard you had to clutch his shoulder for balance.
Sirius finally let out a mock sigh, fanning himself. “Too much for me, little Potter.” He joked, stepping aside. “Your turn, Moony. Show her how a real gentleman dances.”
Remus chuckled softly, stepping forward with a shake of his head. He took your hand with a gentleness that made your heart ache, pulling you into a slower, steadier rhythm despite the lively tune still playing on the radio. Even with his weight pressed heavy on his crutch, and your movements small and slow, it still felt all the same. His gaze lingered on yours, his hazel eyes soft and filled with something you couldn’t quite name. 
"You deserve this.” He muttered quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. “To smile like this every day.” 
The warmth of his words filled your chest, but it was bittersweet, a reminder of all the times you hadn’t felt this light. You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a small smile. “You do too, Remus.”
He returned the smile, spinning you one last time before James swept in with dramatic flair, lifting you off the ground. “One more dance before breakfast!” He announced, making you laugh despite yourself. “No sad faces allowed today. We’re celebrating.”
It was perfect- the kind of moment you could tuck away and hold onto when the world outside felt unbearable. Lily danced with Harry in her arms, Sirius joined in with exaggerated moves, and the room filled with the kind of happiness you hadn’t felt in so long. For a brief, fragile moment, it was enough.
But then the music stopped.
The radio cut out abruptly, replaced by the somber voice of a news broadcaster. “We interrupt this broadcast to bring you an urgent update on the latest casualties in the ongoing conflict. The names of those lost in the recent skirmish include…”
The warmth of the room vanished, the light dimming as everyone froze. James set you down gently, his expression hardening as he turned toward the radio. Lily instinctively clutched Harry closer, her face pale. Sirius’s grin disappeared entirely, his hand hovering near the dial as though he could will the news away.
The list of names continued, some familiar, most not. Each one was a reminder of the growing cost of the war, of the lives slipping away like grains of sand.
And then you heard it.
“...Evan Rosier, Bartemius Crouch Junior…”
The words echoed in your ears, louder than anything else. The world seemed to stop. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, as the name repeated in your mind, over and over. Barty. 
The boy who had loved you so fiercely, who had been so lost, so desperate to make you stay. He was gone. Evan too, another name tethered to your past, but it was Barty’s that struck you like a knife to the chest.
At first, you laughed. You could of sworn James looked at you like you had lost it; you wouldn't blame him. It was ridiculous. The boy you knew, the magnetic and ethereal wizard who you gave your all too couldn't possibly be dead. He was your age. He was a kid. You had both just graduated- what in Merlin's name could they possibly be on about? 
Your laughter slowly died down into a choked gasp and a sniffle, your body stiff. You closed your eyes tight and tried to stifle your sobs. “No…” Your knees buckled, and James caught you instantly, his arm tightening around your shoulders. Sirius reached out, shutting off the radio with a harsh click, the silence that followed deafening. 
“He…” Your voice cracked, trembling as you forced the words out. “He’s really gone?”
Remus stepped closer, his expression pained. He placed a hand on your shoulder, steady and comforting. “Yes,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. 
Lily’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she rocked Harry gently, trying to keep him calm. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. The sound of her grief only deepened the ache in your chest.
James pressed his nose to your temple, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’m sorry, Bambi,” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
The tears came before you could stop them, spilling freely as your body trembled. You clung to James like he was the only thing keeping you grounded, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. The memories of Barty overwhelmed you; the way he’d looked at you, like you were his everything; the way he’d held you, as though letting go would destroy him. The thought that you would never see him again, never hear his voice or feel his touch, crushed you.
“I thought I was over him.” You whispered through your tears, your voice trembling. “I swore I was. But now…”
Sirius moved closer, his arm wrapping around you and James. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “We’ve got you.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your throat felt too tight, the lump of grief choking you. You lifted your head to look around the room, at the faces of the people who had been your family for so long. They were blurry through your tears, but their love was palpable, a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.
Still, the ache remained, deep and unrelenting. Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you had moved on, a part of you would always carry Barty. His loss wasn’t just his death; it was the loss of what could have been, the love that might have saved him if only things had been different. If only he chose it. Because you and Barty were a Hogwarts fling, everyone knows they don't last forever. But even if it crashed in a blazing glory, even if you both turned bitter, if the break up destroyed you. You'd rather feel that.
The kitchen felt colder now, the warmth of the morning replaced by the sobering weight of reality. And yet, as James held you tightly, as Sirius and Remus stayed close, as Lily hummed softly to soothe Harry, you knew you weren’t alone. Even in the face of heartbreak, you were still surrounded by love. And somehow, you would find a way to carry on.
~~~ Bonus Scene~~~
The house was suffocating in its silence.
Your childhood home, once filled with laughter and the chaotic warmth of your family, now seemed cold and lifeless. James and Lily were busy with their own lives, preparing for the future that everyone whispered about in cautious tones, and Sirius had left for good reason you couldn’t fault him for. You were alone, and the empty hallways of the Potter Manor only amplified the echo of your own thoughts.
It had been days since you’d learned the news of what befell Barty.
After the shock ran over you it took days of Remus coaxing to get you out of bed. Then days to be able to face a mirror. Everyone was supportive, helpful, but you felt just as pathetic as you did in school.
The ache in your chest felt heavier tonight as you climbed the stairs to your old room. The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting long, pale shadows across the walls. You reached your room and pushed the door open, slipping inside and locking it with a flick of your wand. It was habit more than anything; no one else was here.
You set your wand on the bedside table and turned toward the window, intent on shutting the heavy curtains, when a hand clamped over your mouth.
Panic erupted within you, and instinct took hold. Without thinking, you threw your head back as hard as you could, the satisfying crack of impact reverberating through your skull. A sharp, pained grunt followed, and the grip on you loosened.
Spinning around, your heart hammering in your chest, you braced for a fight- only to come face to face with the last person you’d expected to see.
“Bloody hell, star,” Barty groaned, one hand pressed to his nose as he leaned against the wall for support. Blood trickled between his fingers, but his lips still curled into that maddeningly familiar smirk. “That’s twice you’ve done that. Are you always this violent, or am I special?”
The air left your lungs, your body frozen in place. “No.” You whispered, shaking your head as if the motion could erase what you were seeing. “No. You’re- You’re supposed to be dead.”
Barty let out a low chuckle, straightening up and swiping at the blood on his face. “I think.. we should talk.”
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signedaiko · 15 hours ago
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Hi there! Could I request HCs of Optimus Prime, Prowl, and Ratchet (separately) from Transformers Animated with a Cybertronian![S/O] [Romantic] [Gender Neutral] who is an Autobot specialized in Special Operations?
Cybertronian![S/O] is a commander of their own Special Ops team back on Cybertron doing missions ranging from hostage rescues to combat. They tried to visit Earth with the Elite Guards whenever possible to see their respective partner(s) since they missed them.
They may be misunderstood as tough, scary, and dangerous at first glance, sometimes mistaken for a Decepticon before showing their Autobot insignia. Even mentioning their designation (name) sends shivers down anybot’s struts (backs).
In actuality, they’re kind, sweet, and less serious when off duty and can take a joke.
Optimus | Prowl | Ratchet [Animated]
In which their s/o is the commander of the Autobot's information operations and visits Earth to see them.
Reader is: Gender Neutral | Cybertronian | Autobot.
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Optimus
Despite all his sucking up to the commander, Ultra Magnus, few knew Optimus looked up to more than just the one
He wasn't under your authority, but you were still a commander, and he was so utterly proud of you for amounting to something
He hadn't seen you since his touchdown on Earth, but you'd been checking on him far more frequently to make sure he was okay
Initially, he doesn't tell you about the cons and tells you it's just human villains because he knows you're busier than he could ever imagine and doesn't want you to worry even more
But you do find out through Ultra Magnus when it's reported, and it only takes a week before you can find an excuse to step away from your position to see him
Your arrival on a small, dark ship catches the attention of Bee and Sari during one of their excursions, and they both go running back to their team, claiming more Decepticons have arrived
When he does go to investigate, he's pleased to see you step from the ship, but your name coming from his mouth only seems to unnerve the others more
"Whoa! Prime, you know them???"
"More than know, actually. Everyone, meet my conjunx."
Jaws are dropping
Very quickly they get to learn your and Prime's history together, how you met in elite guard training, how he saved your life, how different you were than the rumors made you to seem
"Don't be fooled; they're very scary when they need to be."
Prowl
Prowl, like most things in his life, kept any mention of you to himself
After all, the others on his team liked to pry, and you were something precious to him; someone no one understood but him
Not only that, but he was worried if he brought you up, someone might try to contact you, and he knew that above all, your missions were at their peak, one after another
It didn't take anyone else, though; his own silence and lack of disclosure eventually led to you deciding to visit him yourself, which culminated in him literally waking up to the others screaming about a con at the base
He knew the very sound of your spark hum apart from any other noise and immediately told everyone else to calm down
Of course he's happy to see you, but he really wishes you wouldn't see him at such a low point
Stuck with a team of nobodies on a planet one hundredth the size of the one you protected
But you never cared about any of that; you were just happy to see your bot again, and beyond all the war stuff, he was happy to see you, too
He's very protective of you and doesn't let you spend too much time with the others because they're 'too annoying to deserve your attention'
Ratchet
Ever since the mission he carried out with you to save Arcee, he'd felt shame in comparing himself to you
Ratchet used to be on your team before you commanded it, but he eventually strayed into his current position while handling his guilt
Guilt or not, he admittedly hated that you'd taken up such an important position because it meant you had a bigger target on your back
Communicating with you poses a danger to you, so he's reluctant to send much your way and just accepts transmissions from you, which only Prime manages to find out about
Ratchet doesn't care if you're scary or not, if you're strong or not; he just wishes he could keep you from being known, keep you safe
Against all his wishes, you continue to be a more important link in the war effort, and you are the one protecting him in the relationship more than anything
Ratchet manages to keep your first few visits to Earth a secret, but it doesn't take much more for the others to meet you, especially after they had to help chase Lockdown off from trying to take you in
He doesn't have much of an ego, but he does like seeing the younger bots fawn over how cool his s/o is
And hearing them talk about how everyone fears you, well, it makes him feel just a bit more certain that you can protect yourself and that he shouldn't worry as much as he does
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Author's Note - I have actually been rewatching all of Animated so, perfect timing! Blitzwing forever tho <3
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gluechugger · 3 days ago
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Okay yes hello mouthwashing fanart
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tfw-no-tennis · 2 years ago
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ween_anguish.mp4
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brick-van-dyke · 12 days ago
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If there's one thing I've respectively noticed from Zionists and defenders of Israeli war crimes, it's that every source, argument and potential avenue to explore each explanation is riddled with cherry picking, moving the goalposts and mental gymnastics to explain why their conclusions, which typically are barely even related to the sources they use, somehow overshadow literal reality and what we see with our own eyes.
While scrolling, one example I came across was the repetitive misrepresentation of BLM, antifa and quotes from Martin Luther King Jr, as well as statistics, scholarly journal articles and government website information. These are all good sources, yet every single time they're mangled completely until the only possible "interpretation" of any of them is "well Israel is right to defend itself after shorting rockets beforehand because the retaliation was brutal and all Arabs are bad by default therefore". As if any of these sources are even about individual exceptions of Israel versus hatred towards Arabs.
I think what I find most absurd, as someone in the middle of their own studies, is how every bit of critical thinking and logic goes out the window as they do every single thing possible to do what professors worldwide say NOT to do when evaluating sources. It's like watching a race to see who can tangle and misconstrue scientific information to fit their world view the fastest. Then said people say "um actually I studied at university before so it's actually not wrong that I'm doing this exact this everyone is warned not to do because I have a permit". Ignorance I can forgive, but willful and arrogant manipulation? That's another thing entirely.
#zionism#my gods y'all need to get a grip and start remembering that confirmation bias exists#and y'all use sources continually in this way while just generally having so much bs of presenting How To Not Use My Own Sources#or actually to be more correct you clearly do know you just choose not to because you'd rather be justified in resource theft and profit#Like the while tome it's been about either material gain or feeling good about yourself while you shit on strangers#and then I also see y'all make other accounts ro harass random Arabs for fun and random queers who aren't even related like#the fuck is wrong with y'all go sit down and think about why you all do this pointless bs#it's such a waste of your own life spending it looking for fights to help with your bottomless insecurities#Israel#fuck israel#long live palestine#like you can say hamas was bad all you like it doesn't actually change the situation and what y'all have been doing for 76 years#and actually longer but y'all arent ready for that conversation and how Zionists butchered Jews and helped Nazi Germany historically#like sorry that Was a thing that happened and if you want to label yourselves as The Sacred Protectors of Jews then you have to face that#Pretending history didn't happen isn't helpful to anyone including yourselves y'all just making Zionism look even worse and like idiocy#I mean it is but you all aren't helping yourselves by being literal holocaust deniers#and being like “but Zionists saved Jews afterwards” as if that somehow erases the fact they ALSO helped the Nazis#like history is full of contradictory bullshit so when you say “but what about this” you know that doesn't erase the other things right??#“That's worse. You DO see how that's worse right?”#I'm shaking you all and yelling this like it is WORSE that they killed Jews and then started playing the saviour and fellow victims#You do see how that is really bad for Jews today to be in a place created for political power plays and material gain through any means#like you see how that could be REALLY dangerous for Jews if they're that expendable to Zionist entities and the government#and you do realise that is literally what we are seeing from the actions of said government#and how they acting sadly very predictablely when you consider the historical contexts for its existence?#People who research this shit aren't surprised because it happens every single year and has been happening for centuries -#- before Israel the holocaust etc. It's been like this for as long as political Zionism and the French Revolution#It's been going on since pre Marxism and pre a lot of differing things but y'all pretend Zionists haven't ever harmed Jews ever when -#- there's a long history of internal conflict and in fighting that formed modern Zionism and plenty of internalised antisemetism within it#Yeah there's a genuine desire for return to the land (Not Own It just return and live peacefully)#but that is very very different to Political Zionism that formed as a socialist nationalist movement
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weenyoutubecomments · 4 months ago
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If You Could Save Yourself (You'd Save Us All) - Quebec
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iniziare · 5 months ago
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Re-tag drop: Yelan
#yelan: ic. [ that's a worst-case scenario. but all too often; the most pessimistic speculation turns out to be the closest to the truth. ]#yelan: inquiries. [ oh? you'd like to know more about me? what will you give in exchange then? ]#yelan: countenance. [ an old friend of mine once privately commented to me that yelan “is always smiling; but never with her eyes.” ]#yelan: introspection. [ like a phantom she appears in various guises at the center of events; and disappears before the storm stops. ]#yelan: meta. [ the chances are if i open this door; there can be no witnesses left alive. is that a sufficient reason for you? ]#yelan: little notes. [ how can things ever be the same again: knowing your life was saved when others weren't? salvation can be a burden. ]#yelan: wishes. [ that which hides inside her… that constant calling; it is the blood of heroes which has been howling for 500 years. ]#yelan: etc. [ every round of finger-guessing is a tiny adventure; and every roll of dice sends sporadic thrills down her spine. ]#yelan: home. [ i'm guessing you've fallen for the rumors about me being very wealthy; having high demands for my standards of living? ]#yelan: yanshang. [ the teahouse has really brightened up after the boss took over and kicked the fatui and gamblers out. ]#yelan: lantern rite. [ every year on this day; the lanterns light up the night. may the fire never die and may humanity endure. ]#yelan: chasm. [ perhaps she will plunge into that darkness one day; and the ill fate that once befell her ancestors shall find her too. ]#yelan: scope. [ i serve ningguang. the tianquan of the qixing. the scope of my work includes some of liyue's biggest secrets. ]#yelan: weaponry. [ water. divided it is as streams uncounted: close yet untangled. united it is as a giant wave: inexorable; unstoppable. ]#yelan: uncle tian. [ there's nothing wrong with wanting to win other people's respect. but when has uncle tian looked down on anyone? ]#yelan: ningguang. [ we both made a mistake: we shouldn't have involved ordinary folk in what we do. / ordinary folk? ]#yelan: xiao. [ you think you're oh-so cold and ruthless. i'm not buying it. - losing one of us so the rest can escape? some victory that is#yelan: keqing. [ if something happens that they didn't anticipate; it throws their plans into oblivion. but the yuheng is different. ]#yelan: ganyu. [ i could never work non-stop like she does. certainly not at that level of efficiency. i guess being half-adeptus has its pe#yelan: yanfei. [ when i help her out; i always get some invaluable leads in return. gotta say though: i think she respects me a little much#yelan: traveler. [ you don't have to be on guard around me. i never scheme against people who have my stamp of approval. ]#yelan: v youth. [ you're still young. be patient. believe in yourself; and don't look outside yourself to prove your value. ]#yelan: v. pre-qixing. [ i don't do these things to help the powerful or mighty get rid of dissident forces. but because water too has a sou#yelan: v. qixing. [ seeing isn't always believing. and if you can't trust your eyes; you certainly can't trust rumors. ]#yelan: liyue. [ liyue will never plunge into disaster without clue of the danger like it once did. she will see that it is not unprepared.#yelan: wriothesley. [ don't fight over fleeting gains or losses. focus on where your heart is leading you and move forward. ] delusionaid.#yelan. [ i can't change the facts. but if it's a choice between the cold; hard truth and blissful unawareness: i'll take the former. ]
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spilladabalia · 1 year ago
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Ween - If you could save yourself (you'd save us all)
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Video "Just Imagine" by Ilana Yahav
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Song of the Day
18 Aug., ‘23
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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you're in the habit of denying yourself things.
if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.
but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?
what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.
and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.
you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.
so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.
it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.
sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.
oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.
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patrophthia · 1 year ago
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mini skirt | theodore nott
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
wc: 3.5k
genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am
smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing
summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.
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Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.
There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"
Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."
"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"
He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"
You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.
"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."
And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"
"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.
Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."
"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."
His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.
But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.
You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"
His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."
You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."
"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.
"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"
Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."
You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."
"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."
There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"
"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."
It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.
Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.
"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."
"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"
"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.
Fuck, Blaise was not lying.
In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"
"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."
It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"
"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."
His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.
He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.
He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"
You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"
And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."
"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."
His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."
Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.
It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.
"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"
Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"
You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"
You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"
Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”
“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”
Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”
Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."
You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.
"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.
Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.
Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."
"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"
"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."
"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.
You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.
His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.
Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.
Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."
Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."
And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.
"Hey, I liked those!"
"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."
"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."
You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."
"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."
" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."
"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."
" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."
Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.
"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."
The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."
"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."
You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”
“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."
And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”
“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”
“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”
“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.
"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"
You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"
“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”
You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"
"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."
Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.
Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.
Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"
Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"
"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."
"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.
"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."
Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."
"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.
"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.
"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"
"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."
"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"
Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.
"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."
Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"
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— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡
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ozzgin · 4 months ago
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Just read your arranged marriage kidnapped by a most post and the humor in the servants always thinking reader is in peril. The same going for monster hubby (He just thinks they're submissive and breedable)
Like none of them realize they are a moster fucker cause they hide it so well. Like just imagining reader be like "oh be gentle with me I'm a dainty maiden" and then giving him the night of his life is hilarious. Or them having dinner and the servants feel bad for them cause monster hubby is eating human meat but their just thinking about other things he can use his tongue on.
Or maybe someone comes to rescue them from the terrible monster finally. But they don't wanna leave and instead fight the knight off. The knight thinks they've been brainwashed or something. Meanwhile the servants think the knight just wasn't good enough to rescue them.
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Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW! [Part 1] | [More Monsters]
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The servants are not blind by any means: they can tell, quite plainly, that their monstrous Lord has a soft spot for you. Not only that, but the beast nearly worships you! They've come up with many theories, the latest one involving witchcraft. Surely you must have some sort of magical trickery under your sleeve in order to subdue their Master. There's no other way around it. All previous humans have been devoured, or have died in a pitiful attempt to escape, terrified to the bone upon gazing at his blasphemous Majesty.
You can't blame them. It's probably better for everyone involved if you omit the fact that your source of witchcraft lies in your...genitals. Well, not just that, of course. Your husband had started to lose hope. His appreciation of humans never came to fruition before your arrival. He was expecting you to cower in fear, not throw yourself at him.
He wondered if you wanted something from him in return, but no one could possibly pretend so flawlessly: the way you clung to him unprompted. The way you hungrily took him in, tears welling in your eyes, refusing to let go until you could feel his load avalanching down your throat. The way you'd trap his hips with your legs, despite being weak and feverish, asking that he doesn't stop yet. If that wasn't proof enough, your whines and moans were loud and clear. To think he could have his own little human, one who isn't repulsed by his monstrous form. He would've been content with mere tolerance, yet someone who begged to be fucked by him? He's been delirious ever since.
He loves everything about you, naturally, but he can't deny the shameless addiction he's now developed towards your body. He'd pound you anywhere and anytime if he could. If he needs to leave for official matters, know that the return will burn in the back of his mind.
"An important date, Sir?" one traveling servant will ask, glancing at all the scribbles in the calendar.
"Indeed", he answers solemnly. It's the times when he can finally fuck you dumb.
While the servants worry about their devilish Master being put under leash, for the other fellow humans the opposite seems to be true. You recall your last "rescuing" attempt distinctly. During one of your evening walks, burly, foreign arms swept you off in an instant. Before you knew it, you were holding onto the armored shoulders of an unknown man, as he made his way out of the traditional garden.
"I'll get you out of here", he promised between heaving breaths.
You stared in confusion. What was he saving you from? A good dicking? No matter how much you explained that you do actually like your newly appointed husband, the hero wouldn't budge.
You ended up just walking back home when the man fell asleep.
"That was quite the long walk", your monster partner remarked, polishing his weapons.
"Oh no, I was kidnapped", you state casually. "Got us some fruits on the way back."
Would it have been better to lie about it? On one hand, you do feel terrible for whoever attempted to retrieve you from the claws of the tyrant. Your husband is very possessive, and you know he'll scorch the Earth until that treacherous pest is gutted and fed to the pigs.
On the other hand...he becomes particularly savage after such incidents. You won't be able to sit properly for the next few weeks, but it's worth it.
Tough luck, you tell yourself, lounging in bed with a satisfied smirk and torn apart hole.
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shoyudon · 6 months ago
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𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ
them forgetting a date night.
starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader
heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"
note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe
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──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.
the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.
but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?
clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"
you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.
"y/n . . . why did you—"
"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.
for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.
"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"
before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.
"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.
"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."
gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"
"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.
──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.
the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.
walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.
sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.
three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.
maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.
your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.
"what?"
"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."
scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."
you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."
"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.
sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."
you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.
──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.
all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.
"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."
dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.
despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.
it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".
wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.
he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."
you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."
toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.
"bye, toji. good luck."
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