#is the tag i used for a similar ask before i think

[amnmesias]

𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

word count: 12.4k

summary: After the war is successfully won, Remus is left with one last battle to face: The Ministry’s order to all werewolves and survivors to attend a support group in order to effectively be accepted into regular workplaces. You face a similar dilemma, being forced to attend the group in order to not lose your precious spot in the Quidditch league. You find each other somewhere in between. 

tags: scars mention but with no detailed description. some violence. hurt/comfort themes all around, along with some fluff. fem!reader, reader has hair long enough to be played with. smoking and cigarettes are big plot points. found family. background jilypad, harry is a menace. minimal y/n use. nobody dies, post-war fic. 

a/n: hi helloo!! well, here is my next work… i’m really excited about this one. terribly sorry for the 11k words, i got a bit carried away the more i proofread. again, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! xx

...

“Fuck.” 

Remus stepped out to face the humid day, the consequence of his harsh movements immediately made itself known in the pain of his joints. His hand trembled as he placed the cigarette between his lips, somewhere behind him steps interrupted his silence.

“You alright, Moons?” Asked James, taking a tentative step towards his friend. Remus nodded, taking his time to savour the smoke in his lungs. “‘M sorry about what happened—”

“It’s hardly your fault.” He shook his head, and James sighed. “I just… I just don’t think it’s very fair.”

“I know,” He passed the cigarette to James, who accepted it readily, his own anxiety barely contained. “Don’t know what Dumbledore was thinking.”

“I don’t think this is directly his doing, either.” Said Remus, eyes lingering a beat too long on the scars peeking through the sleeve of his jacket. James passed him the cigarette. “If anything, the support group is probably the best solution he could come up with.” 

“Surely you’re not thinking of attending, Remus?”

“And what am I supposed to do, James? Be a stay at home nobody taking care of your son while you go on about your day? ‘Cause no one will give me a job because of this–” He closed his eyes, horrified at the edge of his own voice and mortified at the tears threatening to leave his eyes. He threw the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, eyes now lost in nothing. “‘Sides… You heard the man, it’s non-negotiable.”

“Well, I could pull in a few–”

“It’s fine, Prongs.” James frowned, but let it go. Remus sighed and pushed his hands inside his pockets, fingers itching to pull another cigarette out of the box. “I’m not too miffed about it, really. It’s just… The idea of airing my… my lycanthropy to people I don’t know has me feeling a little uncomfortable. But I’ll survive. What’s the worst that could happen?”

What he almost did not survive, however, was the electric shock he felt coursing through his veins when he spotted you outside Janus Thickey Ward, fingers anxiously picking at the skin of your lips and pacing around the corridor. 

Now it’s important to point out that Remus, in all his half-blood upbringing, never once he considered himself religious, but in that moment he prayed to every saint he could remember that it was all a coincidence, or at least a misunderstanding. How could you, a well-known and incredible witch, stand before him– a nervous wreck, minutes before the so-called Werewolves and Survivors Support Group meeting he had been dreading all week, when not so long ago you were on the cover of Witch Weekly?

“Ah, Mr. Lupin,” Said the healer as she stepped out the door, you looked up, fear deeply rooted in the frown of your eyebrows. “How kind of you to join us, come, come! We’re about to begin our session.” She ushered him in, and Remus found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you as he stepped into the room. 

Remus immediately moved to take the closest seat to the door, but he was horrified to find all the chairs neatly arranged with signs with different names. He sighed, reached inside his jacket’s inner pocket for a cigarette and sat on the tiny chair labeled as Remus J. Lupin. His amber eyes scanned the room and the people quietly chatting around, each of them with visible scars to match his very own, people he recognized from packs he visited during his own missions. But you remained a mystery to him as you walked to your chair, next to his, and plucked the cigarette out of his lips.

“We’re in a hospital,” You said, your tone bored and a complete opposite to the state he found you in minutes before. “Have some respect.”

“Yeah, well,” He shrugged but pocketed the cigarette for later. “None of these people mind, I assure you, they already go through hell and back, every month, mind you.” 

You eyed him curiously and opened your mouth, but whatever words you were about to speak were interrupted as the healer walked towards the center of the room. He inhaled deeply and laid back in his chair, ready to get through the session with the most patience he could muster. 

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Healer Figg and I will be in charge of moderating this support group, therefore you must report to me upon arrival in order to keep track of the attendees. The names provided will not be published nor shared without your permission unless you are in a position where you could endanger yourself or your fellow companions.” She said, making a point of looking at everyone in the room. Remus swallowed hard. “Now, who wants to begin?” 

And well, Remus desperately wanted to say he genuinely enjoyed the session, but that would’ve been a complete lie, especially when he spent most of it wishing it was over. Every now and then, he dared to look over at you, your expression blank but your fingers a clear sign of your anxiety as you toyed with your hair. Sometimes you would feel his lingering eyes on you and meet his gaze, your own eyes desperately trying to hide the mixture of emotions inside your chest.

“And what about you? What’s your name, love?” Asked the healer, and you looked up to find her addressing the question to you. You mumbled your name, a slight edge to your voice as murmurs echoed around the room. “What brings you here, y/n?”

“Do I have to?” You asked, trying to get impossibly smaller in your chair. The healer smiled, as if she was accustomed to those responses. 

“If you want to be signed off, yes, you have to.” 

You closed your eyes, as if her answer physically pained you. Remus supposed it did, him being familiar with the after moon aches that came with his own condition, you probably weren’t so far off. 

“Um, well, I was uh… my family was attacked by a,” You paused, scanning the room. “By a werewolf.” The room remained silent as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I’m the only survivor.” 

“Oh, sorry to hear that, love.” Healer Figg said, and scribbled something in her pad before looking back up at you. You, for your part, seemed grateful for the pause to collect yourself. “Is this why you’re here? To find some sense of community?” 

You frowned, “Um, no…? Not, really. I, uh, I play for the Holyhead Harpies, the league said I must attend these meetings or they’ll remove me from the primary team.” A shaky breath left your lips, but you recovered quickly, visibly more relaxed as you added, “See, otherwise Partridge would fill my spot and that wouldn’t do anyone any good, crazy woman, that one.” At that, Remus couldn’t help himself from snorting at your statement. 

Healer Figg turned to him, eyes curious. “Is something the matter, Mr. Lupin?”

“What? No, no.” He shook his head immediately, hoping his disruption wouldn’t encourage the healer to ask him any questions. “Terribly sorry.” He mumbled, properly chastised.

You smirked, and turned to the healer, who looked down at her pocket watch and clapped loudly. “Oh, it seems we overstayed our welcome here, a retired globins meeting will take place shortly in this room, so we must wrap this up. Thank you for coming.” Remus blinked, suddenly aware of everyone around him standing up, you included. “Refreshments are free for everyone to take. I’ll see you next week.” 

He made to turn to you, an apology frizzling in his tongue but he frowned as he watched you walk out the room without looking back. Remus frowned and tried to follow you, however, his fellow werewolves circled him with numerous questions about his work on the Order of the Phoenix, all grateful for his help towards the werewolves rights movement. His eyes lingered a beat longer on the door and surprised himself when he realized he looked forward to the next meeting.

—

You stared hard at the flame at the end of your cigarette, your fingers shaking slightly a result of the cold weather and your tiresome tendency of forgetting your gloves. A habit you unconsciously picked up since the attack, still used to how your own mother would meet you at the door to properly help you bundle up for the low temperatures, walking away with a faint kiss mark on your cheek, before you lost her to– You shook your head, willing your head to think about something else, something less disturbing. 

Few members you recognized from the previous session walked past you, waving and giving you courteous nods as they themselves mentally prepared for the meeting. You gave yourself a couple of more minutes before entering. 

When the captain of your team walked to you with the news, sadness in her own eyes barely contained, you had half the mind to quit the team for good. The trauma of the attack still lingering in your body as she explained the reasons behind the league’s decision, and she begged you to consider it. You weren’t stupid, you knew the possibility of losing you was as much of a tragedy to the team than it was to you, but the idea of speaking out about what happened in front of unknown people who had managed to survive their very own attacks with much worse consequences, made you queasy in your stomach. You supposed you had it better than them, therefore you had less reasons to make a fuss about the whole ordeal, when they had full moons to dread and transformations to suffer; suddenly your new acquired taste for medium rare, almost raw meat being the only consequence of your own attack seemed a pointless thing to cry about. 

“Hey,” You turned, only to find Remus Lupin’s tall figure walking to you. He seemed far more relaxed than last week, very much like you. Both filled with acceptance towards the situation. “Can I have one?”

You wordlessly passed him your carton, he nodded as he opened it and grabbed your lighter from inside as well. A bemused smile tugged at the corners of his lips at the green and gold embellishments in the lighter, the Holyhead Harpies logo front and center, you bit your lip and looked away trying to hide your smile. 

“Sorry about the other day,” He said between an exhale of smoke. You turned to him again. “Didn’t mean to laugh at your… your situation.”

“It’s quite alright, I knew you weren’t.” You smiled. Remus nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “You play Quidditch, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus supposed he had that one coming. “Call me Remus, please.” He stretched his free hand out and you shook it, your soft palm against his own scarred skin. You said your name quietly and he had no qualms in hiding his own smile. “Oh, I know. But not because I’m a Quidditch fan myself.”

“Well, isn’t that a shame.” You stepped on your cigarette, your boot making a faint sound against the concrete. “Thought Potter had brain washed you by now.” 

“Ah, yes. Well, he thinks I’m a lost case when it comes to Quidditch so,” You chuckled quietly, remembering James Potter and his intensity whenever you encountered him at the pitch. “Lily won’t believe me I’m talking to you, though. She’s a big fan.” 

He enjoyed the way you blushed at his compliment, “Oh, that’s nice. Tell her I said hi?” You said as you walked to the entrance, he stared at your back as you disappeared into the building. 

Remus smiled to himself, blowing the smoke out one last time before putting out his own cigarette. An optimistic feeling lingering inside his chest as he walked inside, maybe this support group idea wasn’t so bad, the more he thought about your tiny smile and faint blush, the more he was looking forward to the next session.

—

“Harry, please,” Remus begged, the tiny wooden  spoon in his hand mid air as the baby shook his head mutely. “You had this just the other day, and you loved it!”

“No.” He said, apparently loving that word when it wasn’t used against him. “Bad Moony!”

“Bad Moony?!” He asked, aghast. James laughed from his spot on the couch. “James, what have you done to your child? Just yesterday he couldn’t leave me alone!” 

“James.” Chided Lily as she walked into the kitchen, assessing her own son and the tall man miserably trying to feed him. She placed her hands on her hips, “Could you stop terrorizing Remus, for once in your life? Here, love,” She made to them and Remus stood up readily, passing her the spoon.

“Terrorizing?!” James echoed, entering the kitchen with faux offense. “It’s hardly my fault Harry decided to antagonize everyone today. If anything it’s Remus' fault for not learning to pick his battles.”

“Prongs, be nice, I met your hero last night.” 

“Oh?” Lily turned, her attention divided between the conversation and feeding her son, who, for his part, knew better than to disobey his mother and happily ate her offerings. “Who might this hero be?” 

Remus frowned at Harry before turning to his friends. “Remember y/n, from school?” 

“What?” James exclaimed, suddenly in front of Remus. The bespectacled boy grabbed him by the shoulders, hazel eyes big with surprise. “From the Holyhead Harpies? Where? Why have you held this information from me? Moony, what the f–”

“James.” Lily chided again, now busying herself cleaning baby Harry’s face. Remus sent her a pleading look. “Besides, if Remus wants to keep his late night rendezvous with this pretty girl to himself, it’s his own decision.”

“Thank you.” Remus nodded, meeting James’ eyes with a satisfactory smirk. Then turned back to the redhead. “Hold on, rendezvous is not the word I’d use. It was just a coincidence.”

“Was it?” Lily asked, irking an eyebrow. “My mistake, then. Your face is saying a completely different thing, though.” 

James seemed to catch his wife’s meaning immediately and smirked salaciously at his friend. Remus groaned and dropped his head to his hands. There was shuffling around and little Harry’s babbling making background noise as Lily walked to change his now food-stained clothes. 

“Wait, where did you meet her last night?” James asked after a long silence. “I thought you had– Oh.”

Remus suddenly felt like this was a conversation none of them had any right in participating. He looked away, eyes lost in the way Lily cooed quietly at Harry as she changed his clothes. A heavy feeling in his chest he suspected was merely guilt, surely he wouldn’t want anyone to go on about his business with other people. Especially when the topic was still raw from the war that had just ended. 

James reached over and patted his shoulder consolingly. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.” 

“Say anything about what?” Asked Sirius, having just walked in time to listen to their hushed conversation. “What are you two babbling about? Remus, what happened to best friends?” 

“Your own fault for going only God knows where.” Remus retorted with a shake of his head, grateful for the change of topic. 

“I’ll have you know I was away buying healing potions for you, dearest Moons.” He said, presenting him with a heavy, brown bag. Remus sighed. “And before you say anything, I absolutely do guarantee you that I don’t mind buying these at all. You’re not the only one with battle scars, alright?”

“Hardly.” James snorted, “Love, getting into a row with a random dog does not count as battle. That’s you being a complete plonker.” 

Sirius gasped, “We’ll see if this plonker is free tomorrow morning to watch over Harry when you and my gorgeous Lilyflower leave for work.”

“Watch over your own son, you mean?” Remus asked, but James beat him to it. 

“Remus can watch Harry, don’t ya, Moons?” 

He laughed loudly and stood up, “No can do, Jamie. I have important matters to attend to.”

“Are said matters a new code for a certain lovely Quidditch player, perhaps?” Asked Lily as she walked in with Harry on her hip, who stretched his arms out as soon as he spotted his father. 

“Scandalous!” Gasped Sirius as he held Harry to his side. Remus groaned, not at all planning to participate again in the same conversation. “And who this lovely Quidditch player might be?”

“Alright, I’m leaving.” He nodded shortly, and turned around. Harry shrieked happily as the man kissed his head lovingly. “Bye, Harry.” 

“No kiss for us, Moony?” Lily asked jokingly, wiggling her eyebrows at him. Remus groaned, betrayed that his own best friend would join in on the banter against him. “Or are you reserving those for—”

“A menace. The three of you.” He said, and walked to the door. “Keep this up and I’ll take Harry from you, this is your first warning!”

—

“What else was I supposed to do?!” Remus asked, his own smile barely contained as he heard you laughing next to him. “I was going crazy, it seemed appropriate at the time!”

“Alright, I’ll give you that,” You allowed, straightening your posture where you laid next to him against a wall. Remus blushed faintly when your arms brushed his when you brought the cigarette to your lips. “But surely you could’ve picked a better song… Changes? Really?”

“Oh, I’ll have you know it would be the best song to die to. Anything from Bowie really,” He considered it, then added, “Or Pink Floyd.” 

“Okay, Pink Floyd I can accept.” You nodded, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. Remus suddenly thought that you looked very lovely under the low street lights. “Didn’t realize you were such a music snob... Well, I suppose it makes sense, keeping to yourself all the time at school.”

And well, Remus couldn’t really blame himself for the way his heart almost leaped out of his chest at your comment, the insinuation that you had noticed him back then. He hoped you wouldn’t notice his blush, or the loud way his heart was beating against his ribcage. You blew out the smoke from the corner of your lips, you had painted them a pretty shade of red he admitted to love, but there was something about your eyes, lost in nothing during the session and now next to him, you seemed… sad. 

“And that’s enough about me.” He cleared his throat, moving to lay over his shoulder against the wall so he could fully face you. You looked over at him with surprise. “Tell me about you.”

“About me?” You asked incredulously, as if Remus wanting to know about you never crossed your mind. He nodded, eyes soft as he studied you. “Um, well… I don’t know, what do you want to know?” 

“Anything.” He shrugged, smiling at you as you frowned, your eyebrows scrunching adorably. “Or at least tell me something I wouldn’t find in that bloody magazine.” 

You smiled, visibly relaxed at the olive branch he offered you. “Read much about me?” Now it was Remus’ turn to smile sheepishly at you. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Okay…” You looked up and brought your free hand to pick at the skin of your lips, a deep rooted habit of yours, he noticed. “Oh, I know. When I was little, the first time I showed signs of magic,” You began, meeting his gaze with a tentative look, something in his eyes motivated you to grow momentum as you continued, “I was outside playing with Sylvie, our family cat, and I don’t remember correctly but my mam said something about her not listening to me that made me so angry that I sent her flying… quite literally.” You laughed, a melancholic glint in your eyes as you placed the cigarette in your lips. 

Remus watched in awe at the red lipstick stains on the filter, but he recovered quickly when you looked at him, “Hold on… You sent your cat…? Flying?” He barked a laugh, surprising both of you. 

You laughed, nodding. “Pretty much, yes. She was alright, in case you’re worried. We found her a couple of hours later, she was stuck on a tree.”

Remus smiled, “And did Sylvie ever forgive you for that? I’m sure you scared the wits out of her.” 

“Nah, that bloody thing wasn’t scared of anything.” You shook your head, your chuckles taking a sad note. Remus frowned. “She quite literally threw herself at Greyback and his pack when he came pounding at our door, fearless creature, that one.” 

Remus felt the air getting sucked out of his lungs at your words. You exhaled deeply and chanced a glance at him, your eyes wide and fearful. 

“I… I’m sorry.” You whispered, harshly throwing your cigarette down to put it out. Remus followed your movements in silence. “Don’t know why I–”

“It’s okay. No need to be sorry, certainly not on behalf of that… that,” He sighed deeply, not courageous enough to finish his sentence, instead, he cleared his throat. “Back there, when you said you said you reckoned Voldemort targeted you…”

You studied him quickly, a slight purse to your lips as you considered your words. “I’m muggleborn, so...” You shrugged, as if that simple fact would make the tragedy obvious, or remotely acceptable.

“Oh.” You sent him a sideways smile, a small trembling thing. Remus wanted to reach out and… What? Do what? He wasn’t sure, but you seemed desperate to change the topic, or leave. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright, hardly your fault.” You straightened your posture, fingers anxiously fixating on a patch of skin in your lips. Remus bit his own lips as he considered you, and desperately thought on another topic, anything to stop you from leaving. “See you soon, then?” You offered. 

“Yeah,” He breathed out, nodding quickly. A candle of hope lighting up inside his chest. You smiled at him, a similar hopeful look in your eyes. “Yes, of course.”

“Bye, Remus.” 

Remus watched you go, a frown in his face. He sighed and laid back on the wall, feeling rather good about the exchange despite the sour turn of events. He had hoped to ask for your number at some point after the session, heart aching to get to know you better, but he supposed it could’ve ended much worse. Eventually you both had to address the elephant in the room, but he could wait, he was willing to wait an eternity if it meant to keep you a bit longer in his life. 

He sighed deeply, reaching out for another cigarette before parting to his own flat. The lighter you brought him heavy on his pocket. You had handed it to him with a mischievous smile, so you stop taking mine, you said while handing it to him when you both noticed yours had ran out of fluid. Remus smiled around the cigarette and brought the lighter to his lips, but his eyes stopped on the messily handwriting on it. Your number. 

—

As the days passed, you weren’t ashamed to admit the giddiness that possessed you when you returned to your flat from practice, fingers itching for the telephone to talk to Remus. Both of you made a routine to end your days with long conversations that easily lasted all night, asking questions that you both usually would hold back from but were feeling confident enough with the help of the distance and the telephone.  

“Harry, stop,” Hissed Remus through the other line, you smiled. Muffled sounds came from his side, no doubt wrestling with his godson for the telephone. “Sorry. He’s in a mood.” 

“It’s okay. He seems like a firecracker, that one.” You pointed, fingers toying with the telephone cord. “Again, can’t really blame him when he has James Potter and Sirius Black genes. Next time you see Lily please offer her my most sincere condolences.” Remus laughed, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

“I will do that, definitely. Add mine as well, while I’m at it.” He mumbled, and laid back and away from Harry’s hand trying to grab the phone from him, he balanced the baby on his lap and used a hand to raise it away from him. “Harry, no. Moony is on a call with a very pretty girl, do you want to play with your toys? A nap maybe?” He whispered, and you smiled against your own phone. Surely not meant to hear the last bit. 

You turned to the clock in your kitchen, reading the time and inhaled deeply, mustering all the courage you could manage. 

“Need help with him?” You offered quietly, hoping to not be heard over Harry’s shrieking. 

There was no response from the other side and you felt both relieved and disappointed, you scolded yourself for thinking that way. 

Then, “You don’t mind?” 

“Not at all, I’m not very well versed in babysitting but I’m sure two is better than one.” You said, your grip on the phone tightened as you stared at your socked feet. “I don’t mean to impose, I just…”

“It’s alright.” Remus breathed out, sounding equally nervous to how you felt. You let your hopefulness linger a bit longer. “Ever been to Godric’s Hollow?” 

You smiled, and just like that, as soon as he provided you instructions for apparition and gave you a very heartfelt goodbye, you rushed to your room and changed your clothes. Fingers tingling with excitement as you locked your own apartment and made to apparate right to Godric’s Hollow. The Potter cottage sat at the very heart of the village, a pretty looking house decorated with well-tended flowers and warmth radiating from every angle you looked at it. A home that drowned in love despite it almost being a cause of tragedy in the wizarding community. 

Remus smiled at you as he opened the door, tiny Harry clinging to his side as both studied you. His light brown hair was tousled, standing on all sides in a clear show of his distress, but his amber eyes looked at you so, so softly you almost melted right there despite the snow surrounding you. You waved shyly, and he seemed to snap out of his trance.

“Hi,” He breathed out. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Hi,” You echoed with a chuckle. Harry blinked at you, his green eyes, a carbon copy of Lily’s, scanning you curiously. “I brought biscuits.” And just like that, you proved yourself worthy to Harry. “Can I come in?” 

“Yes, of course.” He nodded, stepping aside to let you in. You were immediately welcomed by the faint smell of hazelwood and baby powder. “Here, let me take that.” He tried to help you, but his arms were full. 

“It’s okay,” You laughed, feeling rather comforted that Remus himself didn’t know what to do. 

You took out your coat, arms raising to untangle the scarf from your neck. Remus’ eyes involuntarily roved over your form, stopping on the scars peeking through your abdomen, he immediately scolded himself when you looked up to meet his gaze, blind to his reaction. Harry took your lack of layers as an opportunity to reach his arms out, his eyes now fixated on the biscuits you held in your hand. 

“Oh,” You said as the baby basically launched himself into your arms. Remus chuckled and took the bag from your hand and you properly fixed your hold around Harry. “Hello, little one. I’m y/n.” His response came in a happy shriek followed by incoherent babbling, you smiled. “Well, it’s very much my pleasure to help you take care of Moony. Is he giving you a hard time?” You said and Remus let out a startled chuckle. 

His heart did a funny little dance when his family nickname came out of your lips. “Oi, stop talking about me like I’m not here.” He said, words taking a sweet quality. 

“Sorry, sorry,” You smiled up at him and he guided you towards the sitting room. “Well, isn’t this a cozy home?” Harry babbled excitedly, fisting your jumper. “Oh, you did this? You got good taste, Harry.”

Remus felt his heart bursting inside his chest, so he walked to the kitchen to put the kettle on, desperately trying to distract himself before he could lose all his strength to not walk up to you and kiss you silly. He smiled to himself as he listened to you whispering here and there to Harry. 

“Tea, dove?” He called out.

“Oh, sure.” You said, voice muffled as the toddler placed his hands on your cheeks. Remus felt like he was very much on the same wavelength. You laughed. “Is he always this touchy, or just his mood like you said?”

Remus walked in with two cups in his hands, “It’s usually the pretty girls that have him acting like this.” He laughed at you wrestling with baby Harry, who tried to bring your hair to his mouth. “I can hardly blame him–Harry, stop that.” He chided, placing them on the coffee table to reach over and take the baby from your lap. 

“It’s really okay, Remus.” You said, smiling up at him as you studied him with the baby in his arms. You very much wanted to kiss him, your heart still reeling from being called pretty. Twice. “He’s probably going to tire himself off soon, didn’t you say it’s past his bedtime?” You reached over for your cup, trying very hard to hide your blush.

“Yes, indeed it is.” Remus leveled Harry in front of him, the baby simply giggled and grabbed his face, very much like he did to you before. You laughed over the rim of your cup. “He just enjoys antagonizing me, don’t you, Harry? He’s very much like Sirius on that front.” 

“I’m sure he’ll crash out soon,” And as the words slipped past your lips, Harry paused his ministrations to Remus’ face to let out a big yawn. Both you and Remus smiled triumphantly. “See?” You whispered.  

“I’ll go put him down quickly.” Said Remus very quietly, lowering Harry to his chest, you nodded mutely, eyes in a daze as you admired them both. The domesticity of it all. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a second,” He looked down at Harry, then added, “Hopefully.”

You watched him climb up the stairs no doubt to Harry’s nursery and sighed deeply, eyes scanning the room with something akin to longing. The walls were filled with photographs in every space, all the way to the ceiling; most of them were solo shots of Harry, him laughing, crawling and one even bawling his eyes out, the image shaky as if the person taking it was debating between consoling the baby or capturing the moment. The rest you recognized from school, Lily and James and their first kiss after a match, you remembered that moment, then James and Sirius kissing mid-air, each on their broom, a scarlet crowd behind them, or them celebrating graduation day. The biggest one, though, was the one from their wedding, the one you vaguely remembered seeing one morning on the Daily Prophet. Lily looked beyond beautiful, her crimson, long hair in contrast with the white dress. James and Sirius both sported almost matching tuxedos, a lily of the valley arrangement for their boutonnières. The three with wide smiles that could be seen from earth, you were sure.

The photograph that caught your eye, though, was the one of Remus and Lily on the dance floor from her wedding day, a candid shot of them lost in the moment, laughing away despite the growing tensions. He looked very handsome as he twirled Lily around, you immediately noticed, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes rovered over the photo. You moved your head to look over to the next one, but a large hand covered it from you.

Remus laughed at your startled face. “Oh, don’t,” You blinked again, but recovered quickly and frowned at him. “What?”

“You think I was admiring you?” You asked, a surprised chuckle left his lips and you stopped fighting against your own smile. “I’ll have you know Lily immediately caught my eye, I see where ickle Harry got his looks from.” 

He walked over to stand next to you, both of you admiring the photographs in silence. “I’ll tell Sirius you said that, enjoy your time here cause I just know he won’t let you come in the future.” A giggle escaped you, startling him as he turned to you. He desperately wished to drown in the sound of your quiet, girly giggling. “Thank you for coming.” 

“No problem,” You smiled up at him, his eyes unconsciously fixating on a spot on the corner of your lips. “You’re so good with him, really patient, too.”

“Yeah, well,” He brought a hand to his nape, shy in his movements. “I had plenty of practice with James and Sirius.” His eyes softened as he looked back at you, the corner of his lips tugging slightly. “But again, all I needed to calm those down was to threaten them to burn their shared T. Rex autographed record, so…”

“I assume Harry doesn’t own a T. Rex autographed record for you to threaten, then?” 

“Well, no,” He conceded, following you back to sit on the couch. Really close, you noticed immediately with a smile on your face. “But he does have a Quidditch star as a babysitter so he might have some advantage there.”

You snorted. “Please tell me you did not just compare me to Marc Bolan.” 

Remus found himself scooting a bit closer to you under the pretense of grabbing his own cup, if you noticed, you didn’t show, but your smile was blinding. Your sudden closeness brought out a nervous, happy giggle out of you. You slid your finger around the rim of your cup, Remus’ eyes followed your movements in a daze. 

He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of the silence between you, “If James is to be believed, you might as well be the league’s very own Bolan,” You blinked, clearly not expecting that response from him. “And uh, well, I remember some matches from school too, you’re really good, dove.” 

“Remus…”

“What? It’s not like I’m lying, I’ve got people to back me up.” You shook your head, very much like you didn’t believe him. Remus suddenly had the desperate urge to knock some sense into you. “Oi, I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” You smiled at him, a tiny forced thing, like you were trying to convince yourself as well. “It’s just… Sometimes I feel like everyone makes me sound like this incredible player, when in reality I’m just…” You sighed, like finishing the sentence physically hurt you, you raised your hand to your lips. 

Remus decided to take a risk, and he reached over to take your hand from your lips before you could pick at your skin. Then, “Is it because of… of you being…”

“I’m not a werewolf, Remus.” You frowned, but you didn’t move your hand from his hold. However, Remus did flinch like your touch suddenly burnt him. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re… not? Then why…?”

You sighed, like this was a conversation you had been dreading. Remus supposed you did, he did too. Then, “The league, they… they said I had to attend the meetings or they would be forced to release a statement. And I don’t–”

“You don’t want people to assume you’re a werewolf?” Asked Remus, a slight edge to his voice that made you frown. “Are you ashamed?”

“What? No, I– Remus. I just don’t want people to know, okay? It’s not because I’m ashamed, or have some negative feelings towards werewolves or… or– Why do I have to explain myself to you, anyway?” You exhaled abruptly, then met his gaze. “Would you want people to know about your lycanthropy, Remus?”

“Absolutely not.” He said quickly, without thinking, too. 

People being aware of his condition had always been one of his deepest fears, one he carried throughout his school years and even after graduating Hogwarts; when tensions and rumors of a war started to surface, many people turning their backs on each other and ‘lesser’ creatures that didn’t fit the pureblood ideologies. He supposed it was a very valid fear, but having you asking him that question felt like a slap across his face. A wake up call of what he had been dreading since that meeting with the Order and Dumbledore laid down the conditions for him. 

“Then why would I want people to know about what happened with my family? So everyone in the Ministry can have their own ‘I knew it’ moment? I think werewolves already have enough on their plate for me to add more fuel to the fire.” You said between nervous sips of your tea, Remus’ own tea already being a sad, cold thing. “Especially when it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not a big– You almost died, y/n.” He said, desperate to make you see his point, a point Remus himself wasn’t sure what was. “How could you say it’s not a big deal?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? And I’m not about to turn my family into a sob story for the Daily Prophet just because I didn’t attend the bloody support group.” You sighed, and this time you reached over to take his hand. “Remus, I like you, okay? I truly do, but you need to stop seeing yourself like this lesser, undeserving person–”

“How could I not?” He snapped, making you frown deeper at his tone. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just— How can you think that way about werewolves, so.. so benevolent, when we killed your family? Attacked you without reason?”

“Us? Without reason? They were sent to do it, none of the werewolves in Voldemort’s barracks had a say on anything. Yes, they might have had some reason or they probably were conditioned to think like the rest of them… But I don’t go around using my… my case to tell people all werewolves are the cruel monsters they’re painted to be. Not all of them anyway.” You searched for his eyes, hoping he would understand your point. When it was clear he wouldn’t meet your gaze, you dropped his hand in favor of holding his face. Remus’ lips parted in surprise. “You need to stop putting yourself under the same category as them. You’re not them, Remus. Neither are the people in our group. Greyback and their people… They’re the ones in the wrong, the ones that want to harm their fellows by feeding into the harmful stereotypes.”

Remus let out a breath, like he had been holding it for a long time, his eyes never once leaving yours as you both stared at each other, a promise in your gazes. Your eyebrows pinched slightly, and he had the sudden thought that maybe you weren’t done, or worse, had changed your mind mid rant. He shyly reached over to place his hand on the side of your head, long finger gently combing the baby hairs of your temple behind your ear. 

“I’m sorry…” He whispered, afraid that speaking up would scare you away from cradling his face in your hands. Remus thought he could get lost in your touch. “I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions, or get so… defensive.”

“I think… I think some defensiveness is alright.” You allowed, your features relaxing as you whispered back. “But it’s really alright, Remus. We must’ve had to have this conversation at some point, though now and with a baby quite literally sleeping above us wasn’t the scenario I had in mind.”

Remus took your attempt at a lighthearted joke as a sign to change the topic, “Have many scenarios with me, then, dove?” He asked with a tiny smirk, you dropped your hands from his face.

“You’re truly insufferable, Moon— Wait, is that why your friends call you Moony?”

His hand moved from your cheek to the nape of your neck, his thumb sweeping your baby hairs up and down in a way that brought goosebumps to your skin. Remus smiled like that had been his plan all along.

“Don’t call me Moony,” He said suddenly, and you blinked in surprise. He was quick to fix your train of thought, “Every time you call me Moony I really, really want to kiss you. If you do it again, I fear I won’t be able to hold back.”

This brought a shy smile to your face, but as quickly as it came, it turned into a smirk. “Terribly sorry, then, Moony.” 

He let out a startled laugh, and brought his other hand to your cheek, a silent permission to proceed with his intention. You, for your part, seemed in a daze as you breathlessly roved your eyes over his face, hands around the crook of his elbows as you scooted closer. Remus watched in awe as your eyes fixated on his lips with something akin to yearning, and self-restraint be damned, he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his lips over yours. 

Now it’s important to say he desperately made a plan of kissing you silly all night as soon as he tasted your lips and the faint notes of bergamot from your tea, he decided to never let go of you, to kiss you until the skin of your lips were the least of your concerns, had it not been by the door being opened wide open in a swift, loud motion. Sirius gasped dramatically at the sight before him, James and Lily in toe with similar reactions, you and Remus sprung away almost immediately at the commotion. 

“Oh– Moony!” He said, a hand to his chest as if he had been the one caught. “In my own home? In my own couch that I bought? How fucking dare you! I’m kicking you out, you ingrate.” 

“Hi.” You said shyly.

“I don’t even live here.” Remus said simultaneously. 

“Well, aren’t you the loveliest sight?” Said Lily as she walked to you, ignoring her husband’s antics. You stood up almost on reflex to accept her hug, your movements awkward. “How are you, honey?”

“I’m doing alright.” You said, your hand instantly finding a patch of skin to pick in your lips. Remus’ eyes followed the movement. 

“She ought to be alright, based on what we just walked into.” James pointed, walking to you both, Remus nudged him rather loudly. “Hi, James Potter, big fan.”

You smiled bemusedly and searched for Remus’ eyes. “I thought that was Lily?”

“Yeah, right, as if Lils could even differentiate a quaffle from a bludger.” Sirius joked, then stretched his hand out to you, as if you both hadn’t shared the majority of your classes at school. “Sirius.” 

You chuckled, grateful for the distraction to compose yourself. “I know.” You said, but shook his hand nonetheless. “But it’s nice seeing you lot again.” 

“And what brings you here this beautiful evening, y/n?” Lily asked, making herself comfortable on a wingback chair next to the couch. The blue color of the chair a high contrast to her green dress. 

Both James and Sirius seemed in a daze as they ogled Lily, you cleared your throat awkwardly, “Well, I…” You turned to Remus with wide eyes.

“She came here to help me with the menace that is your son.” Completed Remus, “Not that you wouldn’t know, seeing you made him that way.”

“Well, good for Harry,” Said Sirius as he draped himself over Lily, she accommodated herself to hug his middle. “Someone has to keep you on your toes.” 

“It really was no problem,” You interrupted, knowing well they could banter the entire night had none of you butted in. “He basically fell asleep after I got here.” 

“Oh?” James said, turning to Remus, who groaned and threw his head back. The bespectacled boy reached over Remus to address you, “You mean Remus or Harry?”

“So this git has been kissing you all night? Using my son as bait?” Sirius asked in faux indignation, though his fingers calmly toyed with Lily’s hair. “Remus you cheeky bastard.”

“Can everyone please stop attacking me?” 

“No can do, Moony. It’s hardly an attack when we’re telling the truth, you’re a real git and a pretty cheeky one too sometimes.” 

Remus looked at you imploringly, “Dove, need me to walk you home?”

“Add educated to the list, too.” Said Lily in between giggles. You smiled. “Maybe you’re not so bad, Remus, isn’t he, y/n?”

“He’s quite alright.” You said breezily, desperately trying to hide away the blush in your cheeks. You turned to Remus, “You don’t mind?” 

“Not at all.” He shook his head and walked to the door. Pointedly flipping his friends off. “Here,” 

You grabbed your coat from his hand. “Oh, thank you.”

“‘Not at all’ he says! When just the other day he properly groaned at me for asking if he could peel me an apple!” James said with a smile as he watched Remus help you bundle up for the cold. “You know, Pads, maybe he is an ingrate.” 

“I told you, but you never listen.” Supplied Sirius, both men offering you and Remus an out. 

Lily loosened her hold around Sirius to send you a tiny wave which you returned enthusiastically before stepping out the door. Had it not been that it was still reeling from your kiss, Remus’ heart would’ve probably combursted right then and there at your silly interactions with his own friends. He felt a really warm, sweet feeling settling in his chest when he realized you fit perfectly in their little family, eagerly following along in their banter against him. Remus hoped the sight would be something to last him for the rest of his life. 

—

The stress and uncertainty from the other night, a full moon, where you waited for Remus to let you know it had been alright and managed to return home without problem seemed difficult to wear off, the lingering anxiety settling in your body like it planned to stay there for a while. You tried to ignore the heavy feeling in the middle of your chest as you walked towards the pitch, hands distractedly fixing your gloves and gear as the coach threw pointers no doubt to the players already in the field. Calista, the team captain, immediately flew down to meet you on the floor as soon as she spotted you, her face pale and an alarmed look on her eyes. 

“Morning,” You said, watching her walk towards you with tentative steps, she seemed in a state of restlessness as her gaze traveled over your surroundings. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“I don’t know who talked to them,” She replied instead, and you frowned. When she realized you genuinely had no idea, she presented you with a rumpled page from the Daily Prophet. “I’m so sorry, I know you didn’t want people to know.” 

Your eyes skimmed hurriedly over the page, the knot in your stomach you had previously deemed a stomach ache turned into a full blown hollow feeling that consumed you whole. Calista reached to pat your shoulder consolingly, and it seemed that’s all you needed to shake you off your shock. 

“How could they—” 

“Well, isn’t this our lovely star,” Came a voice you recognized well, you turned to find Partridge herself walking over to you with a smirk on her face. “Is your furry little fella alright? Heard last night was quite the moon.”

“He’s not– What the fuck, Partridge?” You managed to say, your blood slowly boiled to the point of seeing red. It seemed that was the reaction your problematic teammate had been aiming for. “You did this?” You lifted the page to her eyes, by the look of her eyes you immediately knew she recognized it before you could present it to her. 

“I owed Skeeter a favor,” She shrugged, taking her gloves off nonchalantly. You did the same, but with completely different intentions. “What? Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“You knew damn well,” You spat, angrily throwing your gloves and the page away. Partridge’s facade changed as she studied your stance, but she recovered quickly. 

“Well, I thought you had stopped worrying about it, seeing that you so thoroughly enjoy associating yourself with the likes of your people and half-breed monsters in broad daylight.” 

You reeled back, as if she had actually punched you in the face but you schooled your face almost immediately. “Well, of course, I see you nearly everyday, don’t I?”

She marched to you in anger, but you stayed still in your place. “You little bitch, don’t think for a second you will keep your spot in the league after this. Why, you stupid mudblood.”

You laughed bitterly, “You think I’m scared of you, Partridge? Or losing my spot? Unlike you, I’m a bloody good player, any team will scout me as soon as I drop the Harpies.” With a sudden feeling of satisfaction, you noticed her clenching her fists. You added, “Also… Mudblood? Really? Wait– Is this why you’re so miffed with me? Because a muggleborn is a better Quidditch player than you? Well, you got another thing coming–”

You felt the sting before your eyes could even follow the movement of her hand, slapping you across the face with a strong hand. Calista gasped loud enough to catch the coach’s attention, she stepped forward to push Partridge away from you but you raised a hand. 

“You show me every day how pathetic you truly are. That’s all you got? Cause I’d really like to give you a real demonstration.” You smiled, a wicked thing that had your teammate leaning back with surprise and Calista swallowing anxiously. 

“Now let’s not–”

Well, you truly would’ve loved to say that had been the end of it, that the coach had reached you both in time to end the upcoming brawl. But none of that had happened, all thanks to your quick seeker reflexes and pent-up anger, you had Partridge on the floor in a quick second. She screamed but managed to throw punches as you, despite your ire-charged reaction, decided to only give her a scare. You had to give it to her, she had a rather appropriate right hook that you had the misfortune of intercepting while you were pulled away. Calista and the rest of the team paused as they studied you, you brought your hand to your left eye, feeling suddenly rather dizzy and a little nauseous. 

“What the devil is happening here?!” Yelled the coach as he inspected the outcome, grateful that you weren’t visibly injured, or well– “Partridge, did you just hit your teammate square in the bloody eye?! What’s the matter with you?” 

“She–She jumped at me! She’s mad!” Partridge pointed at you, you looked up to find her properly rumpled but not hurt at all. “She said she would give me a demonstration, then– then attacked me!” 

“Attacked you?! You hit me first!”

“That’s enough out of you,” The coach spat, turning to you to inspect your eye, he clicked his tongue pensively. “Need you to go to the healer to get this checked.”

“But–” 

“I’ll handle your teammate. Surely there’s an explanation to this circus.” He turned to Calista, who straightened her posture in very captain fashion. She nodded at you, a silent promise that she would make sure Partridge wouldn’t get out of it unscathed. “Go.”

You exhaled abruptly and grabbed your gloves from the floor, making way to the healer’s tiny cubicle to get your eye checked. As you walked out the pitch, you caught a glimpse of the page you sent flying mid brawl, a candid photo of you and Remus kissing one late night after the meeting, a few days ago. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach but now for completely different reasons. 

—

“And I still hear it, minutes before the transformation, sometimes I can feel him lingering close, even though he’s locked away!” Exclaimed McDougall, a thin man that had been a victim of the Imperius curse by Riddle himself. You frowned as you listened to his heart-felt rant, your eyes very pointedly trying to look everywhere but at Remus. “It’s driving me mad!” 

You watched in curiosity as Remus raised his hand. 

“Is there something you’d like to say, Mr. Lupin?” Asked the healer kindly, Remus nodded, then cleared his throat. “Go on, then.”

“Uh, this happens to me too.” He spoke out, voice scratchy like it hurt him to speak. You bit your lip anxiously. “What I do, uh, I like to play music, I’ve found that the wolf likes it during the transformation. It helps, sometimes, with the voices.” 

You studied him meticulously, taking inventory of his scars and the new ones he acquired the night before. His hand shook slightly where he rested it over his knee, the previous scars in his hands a faint red as if they had been reopened again, a bandage peeked out from his sleeve. His hair disheveled a little like he tried to comb it but gave up mid action, but other than that, he looked like the same Remus you had grown to adore. His amber eyes met yours as Healer Figg continued talking to the rest of the group, and he sent you a soft, tentative smile. You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you waved shyly at him, a tentative tiny thing. 

As soon as you left the healer’s office at the pitch and after you met with the coach, you made your way to your flat to assess the damage before it was time for the meeting. You had desperately tried multiple beautying spells and make up products to make the black bruise taking up most of your eye and temple so faint that it would pass right through Remus. Your efforts were to no avail, so you decided to get there a bit later than usual in order to avoid him questioning you about what had happened, or worse, you telling him about the article on the Daily Prophet. You weren’t sure which one you dreaded the most. 

“Thank you everyone for coming, again, it has been delightful to see the outcomes of the group, you all have progressed very much.” Healer Figgs said, pulling you out of your own head as she turned to you. “Let’s all extend our applause and say goodbye to our companion, y/n, who has successfully finished her time with us.” You looked away from Remus, who you felt staring right through your soul as you shyly smiled at the rest of the group. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled, laying back on your chair as if you wished to disappear against the wall. Everyone stood up, and you took that as your queue to finally leave. 

Your hand shook slightly as you opened the door of St. Mungo’s and caught a breath of fresh air. You dug inside your purse and brought a cigarette to your lips, somewhere behind you the door opened again and quick steps followed you. 

“What was that? Back there?” Remus breathed out, catching up to you. You looked down in order to hide your face from him with your hair, he frowned. “You’re done?” 

“Yeah, um, I was told today I filled my quota for the league.” You said quietly, Remus had to lean closer to hear you. “I was going to tell you–”

“When? Today? When you barely said hi to me the moment you got here?” 

You sighed dejectedly and brought the lighter to your lips. To your rotten luck, the flame lightened your face and gave Remus a very clear glimpse of your pathetic attempt at covering your marred skin. 

He inhaled sharply and gently grabbed your face in his hands, “What happened to you?” Your lips parted in surprise around the cigarette and met his worried gaze. His thumb swept over the skin and you hissed. “Sorry, sorry… Dove, who did this to you?”

“It’s nothing.” You said under your breath, shaky fingers plucking the cig out of your lips. “Really, Remus, it was just an accident.” 

“It certainly doesn’t look like nothing.” His eyes studied you, and you suddenly felt very insecure about your face. Stupid Partridge, you thought. “Are we keeping secrets now?”

“What? Remus, no.” You reached to grab his wrist with your free hand, your hold earnest and desperate as you looked into his eyes. “I just… I just didn’t want you to worry. That’s all.”

“Well, I ought to be worried,” He frowned, bringing your temple to his lips, where they lingered a beat too long as you both savored your hold on each other. 

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, “It was one of my teammates.” You finally said after a moment, Remus pulled back with a frown. “Did you read the Daily Prophet today?” 

“Ah,” He nodded, and grabbed the cigarette from your hand. You watched in awe as he pensively studied you, then, “I had an inkling it was about that.”

“You saw it?” 

“Of course I did, James dumped about 7 copies on me this morning, full moon be damned.” He said, you smiled despite your anxiety. Remus mirrored your tiny smile, happy that his efforts worked. “It doesn’t bother me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But, she… she aired your condition to everyone.” You supplied quietly, a slight frown in your eyebrows that Remus wished to kiss away. “She called you a–” You seemed to work yourself up again, and he wondered what exactly went down to bring this kind of reaction out of you. 

“I don’t care, she doesn’t know a damn thing about me.” He said, and put out the cigarette in favor of holding your face again. “There was a time I would’ve cared, and would’ve tortured myself about that, but now it all slides right off. Dove, please don’t go around picking fights for me. Especially with people like her.”

You looked down, eyes fixated on a spot in his chest. Remus suddenly thought you looked very beautiful, a slight vulnerability to your demeanor that made you look angelic. He kissed your temple again, very softly to not hurt you, then searched for your gaze. 

“But that’s not everything, isn’t it?”

You met his gaze, and his heart ached at the glossiness in your eyes. His eyebrows pinched slightly, and watched as you curled your arms around his middle, your hold desperate for comfort. Remus sighed as you hid your face in the safety of the crock of his neck. 

“I tried really hard to protect them from… from people commenting on their story, how they died. I didn’t want them to become another fatality of the war, and–” To your horror, a tiny sob left your lips and you closed your eyes. Remus thumbed the tears in your cheeks away with very gentle movements, careful of your tender skin. “I couldn’t even do that. I keep just failing them day after day, the league pulling me back, getting into fights and proving everyone right all along. I… I don’t know what to do, the least I could do is be someone worthy for them and to honor them after they died because of me and–”

“Wait, no. They didn’t die because of you.” He frowned, and you seemed to have a hard time meeting his gaze, he curled a hand under your chin to look into your sad, teary eyes. “How could it be your fault? Dove, that man is at fault, he’s the one that killed them, he sent the order. There’s no way you would’ve known.”

“But… but I could’ve tried harder at protecting them. I should’ve done something.” You finally let out the thought that had been consuming you for months and kept you up at night. “How can people call me bright and promising in that stupid magazine… If they only knew how useless I was during the war.” You chuckled humorlessly. Remus decided he had enough of it.

“Listen to me, y/n. You being this incredible, promising witch and your parents’ deaths aren’t mutually exclusive. Voldemort targeted all the muggles and wizards that didn’t follow along his insane ideology, there was nothing you could do to stop that from happening, I know you don’t want to call it that but it truly was a tragedy… because no matter what you had tried to do, he sent his best men to kill you and your family knowing it would be one against four. It was meant to be a tragedy whatever the outcome. And your parents? They would've been so bloody proud of you for fighting the death eaters off, for surviving and fighting tooth and nail for your future that was almost ripped away from you. Don’t… don’t count yourself out just because of this, it might feel like it sometimes… but you’re not alone.”

You bit your lip, finally meeting his gaze. Remus exhaled deeply as he finished off his desperate rant, some fight still lingering inside of him to make you see his perspective. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally said, your finger sweeping back and forth where your hand held his wrist. Remus watched as you inhaled, channeling all your strength to compose yourself. “I… Thank you, Remus.” 

He smiled softly, “No need to be sorry, or to thank me. I would do this every day, pretty much like you would, too.” You blushed, and he found himself ignoring his self-control and leaned forward to kiss your lips. They tasted a tad salty, but not any less sweet. 

“They would’ve really liked you,” You said as you broke away, Remus’ smile got impossibly wider and grabbed the sides of your face to kiss you again. “Ouch.”

He gasped, “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss just shy of your bruise. “Let’s go get you fixed up, hm?” He placed his arm around your shoulders, and you trailed next to him in a daze. Still slightly shaken up, Remus noticed; he tried another angle. “So, proved myself worthy to the in-laws already?”

You smiled sheepishly, “Don’t let it get to your head, though.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you rounded the corner, his flat building in view. 

Remus sighed happily as he dug inside the pocket of his jacket for his keys, his other arm head-set in holding you close to his side. You, for your part, seemed to enjoy his hold around you and walked next to him with a tiny, shy smile, your hand picking at the skin of your lips distractedly. 

“Here,” He helped you out your coat as you both walked in. You immediately took notice of the homely ambience to it, Remus’ taste all over the flat as your eyes rovered the room with curiosity. Remus’ heart did a little flip as he studied you, “Wait here, I’ll go check what potions I have for your eye.” 

You nodded then made a beeline to his couch, a worn out, lived in thing that matched with the decor in the walls. Just like the Potters’, he had countless photographs hung up on all the walls, evidence of his happiness despite the numerous trials he had suffered in the past. The biggest one, you noticed, was one of him holding Harry as a newborn, his amber eyes red and with some tears welling up, you felt a tug in your heart as you scanned it. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Said Remus with a breathy chuckle as he walked to you, a container and wet cloth in his hands. You laughed as you walked to him, “What is it with you and photographs?” 

You shrugged as you sat in front of him on the couch, Remus placed the container on his knee before gently pressing the warm cloth to your face, to remove your flakey concealer no doubt.

“I’m used to still images back home, seeing them move is something I don’t think I can get used to–Ow!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Remus placated, a slight frown to his eyebrows, he made his movements extra gentle to not hurt you again. “A very valid point.” He added, then placed the cloth down. “Ow, dovey, that was a hard punch, it seems.”

“You should’ve seen Partridge.” 

“You hit her?”

“Nah, just gave her a scare. Also gave her a proper demonstration on how it’s done, real muggle style.” He barked a laugh, and opened the container next. You scrunched up your nose at the smell. “That’s foul. Is the smell alone a punishment for getting into a fight?”

“Probably,” He hummed, eyes fixated on your bruise as he gently patted the cream potion on your skin. You felt your insides mushy and soft with gratefulness and something akin to love for him. “I stole this from Madam Pomfrey so I wouldn’t put it past her.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Using your Pomfrey privileges to steal supplies? Oh, Moony, you’re incorrigible.” Remus paused his ministrations to meet your eyes, you smirked playfully at him.

“You will have your kiss after I finish this, dove, do not fret.” He commented breezily, thoroughly enjoying the way you flushed. Remus chuckled as he finished putting the rest of the potion on your eye and kissed it softly, he grimaced, “Shit, that really is foul. Terribly sorry, dovey.”

You laughed. “It’s okay.” Remus placed the container and cloth away to fully face you, you smiled up at him with something giddy and excited in your chest. “So, where’s my–”

Remus smiled, a wide, bright smile that almost blinded you as he grabbed the nape of your neck and pressed his lips against yours. You laughed against his lips, your mood suddenly lifted now that you had what you wanted, Remus kissing you silly and holding onto you like you were about to fly away, and by the happy sigh that left your lips when you momentarily broke away, he wasn’t so far off. You shyly reached over and placed your hands tentatively around his middle, Remus, without breaking away, grabbed your arms and circled them around him, a permission to hold onto him as much as you wanted. You readily accepted the invitation, fisting his jumper with longing and deepened the kiss. 

“Not here,” Mumbled Remus between kisses, he helped you up and immediately pressed his lips against yours again, as if stopping kissing you could physically harm him. “Dove,” He said breathlessly as he pulled you to your feet, you let him manhandle you, a wicked smile on your lips as you pulled him back down to you. “Come on,” He held your hand and guided you down the hall, no doubt to his room, your insides suddenly recoiled with anxiety. 

You sighed as he kissed you again, his fingers toying with the hem of your jumper, you sucked in a breath and deepened the kiss again, hoping it would distract him from his intentioned hands in your middle, but to no avail, he unconsciously lifted the hem and placed his hands over the scarred skin around your waist, if what he found troubled him, he didn’t show, but you stilled and Remus pulled away slowly at your reaction.

“Dove?” He frowned slightly, and you willed your lungs to accept air as you breathed quietly, “Was I too harsh with you? I’m sorry,” His hands found your face again, and you met his gaze, his lips parted in surprise as he noticed the troubled look in your eyes. “What is it?”

“I just..” You sighed, biting your lip nervously. Your fingers grabbed the hem of your jumper, Remus’ eyes flashed with realization. “I haven’t been with anyone… after… you know.” 

“Oh,” He breathed out, scanning your face for regret, but you seemed mortified enough to even meet his eyes. “They don’t bother me, but if they do to you, I won’t touch them. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry,” You said under your breath, suddenly feeling like you wanted to cry. Why was your past so adamant to ruin your present? You thought bitterly. “I don’t know why I… I’m sorry,”

“Hey, it’s quite alright.” Remus leaned down to search for your eyes, he cupped your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, dove. It truly doesn’t bother me, as long as you’re comfortable.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” You said, holding onto him in the desperate selfish way he was starting to adore. “I just, I keep forgetting they’re… there and it always feels like a rude wake up call when I notice them.”

“I get it,” He nodded, and kissed your eyebrow. “Believe me, I do. Mine used to bother me too, not so long ago, but they’re part of me, of my story. Though they hurt like hell, I’ve eventually learned to accept them. It’s okay if you’re not ready to accept yours, lovely girl.”

You looked up at him, very overwhelmed with gratitude and love for him, you were sure your heart could explode soon. Remus seemed to notice it as he lifted an eyebrow in question, and kissed the corner of your lips after you gave him a short nod. When he pulled away and walked a few steps back from his bed to give you space, you were only mildly disappointed at the distance. 

“We don’t have to do anything, but you can stay over if you want. Have a cwtch, maybe?” He asked, offering a tiny olive branch that felt gigantic to you. You smiled and nodded eagerly, he mirrored your giddy reaction and brought your hand to his lips. 

Remus nodded and laughed when none of you made to move, “I don’t have…” You trailed off, and his face brightened. 

“Oh, no need to worry about that,” He smiled and walked to his drawers, excitedly shuffling some things inside, then lifted a black shirt out. “You like Bowie, don’t you?” 

You laughed and accepted the clothes he presented you, he placed a kiss to the crown of your head as you followed him to his bathroom. Your limbs suddenly felt rather heavy and exhausted as you changed your clothes into his, a ratty Bowie shirt and some boxers that looked awfully big on you. You tried to not stare at your reflection in the mirror as you changed, but had enough courage to inspect his healing work on your bruise. Small steps, you supposed. 

Remus felt his own heart falling out of his arse when he stepped out of his own bathroom, to find you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, looking around his room and fighting against a yawn that tried to escape your lips. He was overwhelmed with tons of feelings as he walked to the bed and threw himself over it, pulling you down with him. The sound of your surprised giggles echoed around the room as he propped himself over his elbow, eyes full of love as he looked at you. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked quietly then, your finger tracing the letters of his own shirt. Remus held your hand captive and kissed your palm, then reached over and kissed you. “Remus,” You giggled as he placed sloppy kisses on your face, cautious of your eye. 

“Just happy, ‘s all.” He mumbled as he pulled you close to him, you happily accepted his hug. “I still can’t believe I went to that support group just to get signed off for a job, and not only left with a job but with the prettiest, smartest witch as my girlfriend.” Your chuckle came in a sleepy breath, eyes closed as you drowned in the sound of his voice. Remus didn’t mind, telling you all that was his own private indulgence. He placed a kiss on your forehead, “And she fights for my honor unprovoked, too.” He added. 

“Of course that’s the part you fixate on,” You mumbled, words quiet and slurred like you fought against sleep to speak out. 

Remus fought against his own drowsiness, “Oi, you think someone there caught a photo of that?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“It would be a very lovely addition to the wall.”

“Remus,”

“Well, I was just thinking, since you love photographs.”

“Goodnight, Remus.” 

—

Champagne flutes sat empty over the tables as the record on the turntable echoed faintly around the room, one of the records Lily picked halfway over. James and Sirius busied themselves picking up the trash and cleaning the remaining dishes respectively as Lily climbed down the stairs after putting Harry down to sleep in his nursery. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her, Remus and you passed out on her couch, clinging to each other. You still wore your Quidditch gear from the match earlier and Remus didn’t deign to change his Holyhead Harpies jumper neither, even after the match had been won and long over. 

“They’re asleep?“ Asked Sirius, and both his spouses shushed him immediately. 

“Yeah,” Lily nodded, then walked back to the kitchen to continue helping with the tidying. Her green eyes fell on the polaroids she left out to develop. “Oh, isn’t this adorable.” She gasped with a smile as she picked them up.

She walked back to the sitting room and stood in front of the wall, eyes searching for an empty spot for the new additions. James stood behind her, a frown to his eyebrows as he helped her out. 

“What about moving these, lovie? So they can fit here.” He pointed, Lily followed his eyes and nodded excitedly. “I hardly think ickle Harry would mind.” 

Lily lifted her wand and whispered a sticking charm to the new additions, a warm, happy feeling in her chest as she admired the final product. 

There stood two new photographs to the family wall, one of you winning the Major League match, your big smile as you lifted the Golden Snitch in the air and the crowd roared behind you; the other a candid photo of you Lily took that very same night, of you and Remus dancing and laughing, both of you sporting matching bright smiles as you celebrated the big win of the night. His arm placed firmly around your waist as he playfully dipped you low, and baby Harry clapping happily somewhere in the back of the shot, but the real star of the photograph was the glistening ring in your finger as you cupped Remus’ face, Hope Lupin’s very own engagement ring that was passed down as an heirloom to you.

[ngage2003]

To me, Marble Hornets partially works so well as a story due to its incidental use of parallels and when it contrasts them. Alex and Jay are both people corrupted by Operator influence who ultimately follow the same path and up in the same place, both of their differing selfish qualities (Jay's Curiosity, Alex's need for control) ultimately dooming them. Tim saw the Operator as a kid and implicatively so did Alex, yet those two end up being both our devil and martyr of the story, two totally opposites.

Marble Hornets does this though not only with characters but relationships, the most infamous example being Brian and Tim being friends before the former's death, and Masky and Brian being partners in crime after it.

A lot of this is probably to some degree incidental honestly, especially when we get down in the weeds, but I believe that there is another parallel to Brian and Tim's friendship in the narrative too, one that is more about contrasting it than paralleling it as with Masky and Brian.

Let's talk about the relationship of Jay and Alex.

⟦content warning: some vague talks of codependency⟧

Alright, so far warning, this is going to get a little "headcanon-y" but I really just want to talk about/analyze the fascinating relationship of these two and my personal thoughts on how they know each other.

Most of the time between Jay and Alex on screen is spent in season 2, but really their whole friendship is to blame for this series happening. After all, Jay was a close enough friend to visit Alex before he moved out, and to ask in the first place for his tapes.

I think its important to talk about what we specifically see of them though, as Alex's reluctance to kill Jay is by and large a defining feature of the series. If he hadn't been so hesitant after all, Jay would have never uploaded the tapes and the series wouldn't exist. But while Alex leads Seth to his death and as to be practically forced to kill Brian by the Operator—

Clarification: in Entry 51, the one where Brian is presumably killed the first time, Alex has to be tortured by the Operator before he is seemingly willing to hurt him. If you're wondering what I mean by that, please check my #ng.operatorture tag for elaboration. - Basically though, I think when the Operator teleports fully living people away, it tortures them, like how we see with Tim in Entry 65. This process is done as a way to sort of break people down mentally by the Operator, as a way of feeding and also to compel them or try to get them to accomplish a goal it wants. Tim only avoids this fate because he is a system and Masky protects him.

—he doesn't kill Jay, despite having ample opportunity too, and the Operator more than seeming to want him too. Sure, yeah, Alex attacks Jay when giving him the tapes Entry 71, but even then, even with Jay defenseless and unconscious and Alex thinking everyone else his dead, he can't kill him.

Why? What makes Jay special? Or rather, what makes him special to Alex Kralie?

Well, I believe that Alex and Jay are long time friends, a relationship purposefully contrasting the fast friendship of Tim and Brian in college that similarly runs deep for the both of them. I think they could have known each other in highschool, and maybe even a little before, both being neglected outcasts who ended up clinging together as they finally found community in the other. I think that foundational connection is why, despite all Alex's hard edges and his antsiness which harshly contrast Jay's passivity, he keeps Jay close, holding him at arms length as a script supervisor rather than a camera man but always near.

I don't think this deep of a connection could just be a college crush or something similar, because for Jay's part, we see a similar level of emotional connection from him, with how doggedly he is willing to follow Alex for many months before he finally snaps to get information, being led around in circle after circle and doggedly following at Alex's heels. Sure, Alex is a lead, but Jay's willingness to keep his head done and follow him is frankly ridiculous, especially after he witnesses certain things like Alex being willing to break their associate's leg and leave him got dead in a dirty, abandoned building.

The two enable each other in a way. Jay does little to press back against Alex's harsh will and rude remarks, not even helping Tim out of the building and often flailing with responding to his vitriol, and Alex uses Jay's curiosity against him, manipulating him onto the path he wants because he has the answers and he knows Jay wants them. I don't think they were always like this of course, but this is a pattern of behavior that is too easy for them to fall into, and honestly could come from them being isolated and only having the other as a friend for so long in the somewhat rural south. When you are two hurt people in a bad situation, you tend to accidentally do stuff like this, as you grow around the other much like a tree and a strangling vine. There isn't anything wrong with that, the problem comes in with the fact that Alex never changed and neither did Jay, and under the corrupting influence of the Operator they're getting worse.

Despite that, I think if there are things Alex Kralie holds near and dear to the core of his self, Jay Merrick is one them, and I think because of that it is very likely that early on in season 2, Alex was still subconsciously fighting the Operator's compulsion. Now, I don't think he was consciously aware of it—lets not get ahead of ourselves—but we know Alex is a stubborn person, and if Jay was important to him I think he could've been resisting to some extent. We know the Operator's mental manipulation isn't absolute, as even if it leaves people believing they're right, Jay pushes back against it in Entry 82, fighting subconsciously before the Operator straightens him out. Why couldn't Alex have done that too? Why couldn't that be why Jay lives so long? Despite the fact Alex tried to knock Seth, Brian and Tim all out within 24 hours.

Advertisement: Curious why I believe that? Read the Deluge section of my analysis/theory, "why the hell is Brian using Catholic Imagery?"

I think the moment Alex finally crumbles, and the moment he is beyond saving, is Entry 52. There is a lot going on at this point between him and Jay, but to some degree I believe this is because he finds out about the Marble Hornets channel, and his trust in Jay, his guilt at the idea of killing him, his resistance to the Operator's manipulations- it crumbles. After all, if he can't trust Jay, who can he?

Alex: I didn’t want Jessica involved! That’s why I told her I found Amy! That’s your fault! When I gave you those tapes, I told you to never mention them again! I thought that implied not sharing them with the world!

◉ Entry 52, at four minutes, 18 seconds.

In Alex's eyes, Jay is practically spreading this sickness like candy on halloween. He is taking a delicate matter and manhandling it and undoing all Alex's hard work to contain it. Bringing in Jessica was bad but this- this is a new low. I think its possible Alex could have even been considering bringing Jay in to help him "stop" the sickness, whatever strange way Alex believes he can/is doing that, but this straw, finding the Marble Hornets channel, on top of everything else, it broke the camel's back.

That is when he finally, properly threatens the life of one of the most important things in his.

Alex only continues to decline after this point in the series, his death as a husk of who he once was being inevitable.

Footnote: For the record, I do not think Jay is some hapless victim of Alex, don't be silly. Jay is just as bad as him in a lot of regards, but is just actively less influenced by the Operator and more subtle with it. Honestly, he is a low empathy autist to me, and that doesn't inherently make him bad, but he also just doesn't act to try to be kind to people when he does inevitably pick up on things, instead prioritizing his own wants most the time or ignoring them unless he has a reason otherwise. He is selfish, and he acts selfishly throughout the series, and that is important to acknowledge about him. I think both he and Alex came from broken homes and I think their behavior and codependent relationship reflects that. Cougjs. If folks are interested in my highschool Jaylex headcanons feel free to send me an ask.

[dragqueenstarscream]

hey, its me again, back with more Starscream thoughts, so you just know things are about to get uncomfortably real and introspective! Again, prefacing by saying that a lot of my analysis is based on my own eerily similar experiences to Starscream, so I'm not 100% sure how much of this actually rings true and what is just me projecting.

I have entirely fallen down the StarOp rabbit hole thanks to you, at a speed I never could have expected. When I first finished TFP and started browsing the tags, I'd see the occasional StarOp post and at best be like "alright, sure" and at worst a little confused on where it was coming from, given the infrequency of interactions between the two after like, early season 1. But since I sent that first ask in it just clicked and like.

Before, I was always of the opinion that Starscream joining the autobots was something that could never really work from a character perspective, not just because of his dependency on Megatron like I talked about last time, but like, even if Megatron was completely out of the picture I never felt like the full on redemption and becoming a functioning member of post-war society that becoming an Autobot would entail would particularly be desirable to Starscream (if even possible for reasons both in and out of his control.)

I sorta felt like any good ending for Starscream would have to entail him moreso escaping the narrative than anything else, given the extent to which he's stuck in this cycle almost on a cosmic level, with how he's unable to escape it in any universe, any continuity, which of course ties into wider thoughts on how this franchise seems uninterested in letting Starscream ever escape that cycle. A sort of El Camino style ending, where leaving behind everything you know and running away to Alaska is considered a good ending, all things considered. That naturally led to me shipping him with Knockout, given their chemistry and the fact that they were this close to running away together, it just felt like the most compelling option, narratively speaking.

But now that I've caught onto the StarOp agenda, I've sorta cracked the code and realized that you can make a compelling and believable path to Starscream becoming an Autobot by having him getting together with Optimus initially be on a subconscious level an outlet to recreate the cycle he was in with Megatron purely because he's used to it and doesn't know how to live without it.

Outside of the obvious ideological and moral differences, Optimus and Megatron have a lot in common, especially from the perspective of Starscream. They're both big, strong, masculine figures, and natural-born leaders that effortlessly compel those around them to fight for their respective causes. They both radiate power in a way that I imagine you can almost feel when around them (and in a way I know it, because that's often how it felt being around my personal Megatron, it's why it was so easy to fall back into his arms over and over.)

All this to say, when Starscream gets with Optimus, he's not escaping the cycle, he's changing his target. If he became an autobot he would instantly become the most dedicated autobot, not out of any ideological reasoning or particular desire to be good, but out of an intense loyalty he effortlessly placed in Optimus. But of course, the loyalty phase is only half of this cycle.

This next part I'm heavily basing on what I've realized about my own experiences, so bear with me for a second, (I also doesn't think it exactly applies to TFP as much as it does some other continuities, G1 maybe but I haven't seen much of G1 so idk for sure) but I feel like sometimes Starscream almost tests Megatron in a way when he feels like Megatron's priorities are drifting away from him, (since remember, he needs to be the most important bot in his life, Starscream is desperate for Megatron to be as obsessed with him as he is with Megatron.) so Starscream will sort of do something stupid, maybe he comes up with some harebrained scheme that's probably not gonna work, or he makes some tactical or administrative decision entirely based on what he's feeling on an emotional level, to see "will Megatron back me on this?"

because Megatron does stuff like that all the time, he's far from being a better tactician than Starscream, (notice how the moment Starscream leaves in season 1, the decepticons stop winning like, at all until he comes back?) and he makes rash decisions out of anger all the time, and Starscream goes along with all of it, every single time, so it's only fair that Megatron lets him get away with doing something kinda stupid this once. and when Megatron inevitably doesn't, either because it would work against the Decepticons own goals, or purely because he doesn't want Starscream to think he has power over him, (and despite how good he is at hiding it, Starscream does have power over him in a lot of ways, I might talk about that some other time.) Starscream lashes out, betrays Megatron, and leaves, because once again all the loyalty he gave to Megatron got him nothing in return.

and let's be clear, Starscream doing this is toxic as fuck, but at the same time of course it is, it's almost impossible not to become toxic in an environment like this. And that really comes back to bite you when you get out of that environment, but on a base level still have these habits and base level impulses that might have helped you survive back then but are terrible for the actually decent people you've surrounded yourself with now.

With that, we cut to today, where Starscream is an autobot and he tries to pull one of these "tests" on Optimus because the honeymoon phase is over and Starscream is instinctually ready for things to start getting worse, maybe they had like, one minor argument and Starscream instantly assumed the worst. and I imagine Optimus "fails" the test, says "no, I'm not backing you on this, I'm not gonna let you do that", but unlike Megatron who does so while prioritizing his own ends and his control over Starscream, Optimus is saying no for moral reasons. And I imagine he tries to explain that to Starscream, but that answer isn't hitting him properly because again, Starscream's only thinking in loyalty.

Everything Optimus thought was progress on Starscream's part in living up to autobot ideals was really just newfound intense loyalty to Optimus, his growth was really just him doing what he thinks Optimus would want him to do and what he thinks would gain him Optimus's loyalty in return. and, from Starscream's perspective, it didn't work, so he's thinking "obviously Optimus doesn't care about me at all, fuck him, I'm out of here." so he makes this big display of betraying the autobots and running away.

and from there, it's the question of if Optimus sees through what this is really about. The other autobots are probably no help in that regard, they all probably fall into one of two groups, the "At no point in time was I not 100% sure that this inevitably was going to happen" group, and the "I mean, I had hope for him, and it seemed like he was doing good, but I'm still not that surprised" group.

But of course, Optimus isn't Megatron, he does care about Starscream and wants him to know that, so I imagine he actually tries tracking down Starscream to have an actual conversation with him to try and figure out where his mind has really been at these past few months, and if he catches on to even a little bit of the subtext of what I've been saying here, he's gonna be like "oh shit, there is a lot more we need to work on than I thought."

and yeah, Megatron fucked up Starscream in ways that its gonna take years to properly unpack, so Starscream is lucky to have found quite possibly the best person to help him through it in Optimus. It's gonna be a rocky road, but Optimus is in for the ride.

and I do think this relationship could eventually become healthy, and I like reading fics where they've managed to make it healthy, but I do think at first it really wouldn't be, and as someone with the autism that makes you obsessed with themes and motifs and subtext, the process of seeing it become better, of seeing Starscream have to unlearn these old harmful defense mechanisms, THAT is really what makes my brain vibrate, especially because I've had to go through that same process myself after finally getting away from my personal Megatron for what I'm thankfully certain now is the final time.

also kinda realizing a lot of this kinda sounds like borderline personality disorder, which. that might be something I have to look into in regards to myself, damn. anyways, yeah, thanks for letting me kill the vibe again, appreciate it! I'll probably try and keep these shorter in the future, I imagine it's kind of a lot to suddenly have 1500 words of deep character analysis with hints of traumadumping suddenly thrown in your askbox lol. If this actually was a bit too much then I'm sorry, you can tell me to dial it down a little if you want.

and this, right here, is why starop is my favorite transformers ship.

you really hit the nail on the head with this one. when done well, it's not only cute and fun to explore, but it's also a deep dive into starscream as a character and what could possibly lead to a redemption arc. sure, you don't need starscream to fall in love with optimus to redeem him, but how that would actually play out is so fascinating.

sure, i love aus where starscream is an autobot spy the whole time. yes, i love aus where they were in love in the past and got separated. but the idea of starscream replacing megatron with optimus in his mind fits him so well, because, as an abuse victim myself, it's easy to find yourself drawn to people who remind you of your abuser.

and that's where optimus' kindness sets him apart, because when starscream pushes back on him, optimus doesn't do what starscream expects. he doesn't lash out or hit him or verbally berate him. he responds with honest concern, trying to figure out what's wrong.

and that kindness, that sincerity, is something starscream doesn't even realize he's been missing the entire time.

i do believe they have the potential to be healthy, but the fight towards them actually becoming healthy and helping starscream get out of his toxic mindset is part of what makes these two so damn compelling.

always happy to have another starop fan.

(also you don't have to worry about toning it down lmao, gods know i ramble like a maniac about my favorite things. i'm not gonna be the one to judge)

[front-facing-pokemon]

[cathalbravecog]

first thing i drew on my new tablet to test it out is the tv beast themselves

[puppppppppy]

i feel shy talking here when i dont have anything worth sharing but i cant help feeling like ive said things in the tags that could be brought up in court

[hayaku14]

hello why is kaishin more popular than shinkai or what i mean is why bottom shinichi is like the most widely believed one? lol not really in the fandom just vaguely familiar with the anime from childhood it's just my mutuals likes this ship. i'd thought shinichi being the top would be more popular given his personality.

anon sorry for the late answer!!

imma be real honest with you, anon, i've loved the kidco dynamic since i was conan-sized but i only realized kaishin should be making out around 2021 so i don't know if i'm the best person to answer this question LOL BUT, i'll give you an answer!

tbh, i think for fandom shipping in general, the main character more often than not is the chosen bottom and whoever else is the other party is topping them. in japanese media especially, the ship names are mostly born from putting the kanji of their names together wherein the order of which indicates the seme and uke. since this happens early on, we kinda get stuck with that as the popular ship name whether you prefer the other way later on.

perhaps kaishin is more popular but not entirely by a lot compared to other ships where it's completely skewed to one side. i see a lot of shinkai too. ofc there are people who prefer one way over the other exclusively and that's completely fine!

personally, i think confining them into seme and uke or top and bottom does a great disservice to the kaishin dynamic because to me we should be looking at their sub-dom dynamic more and why they're actually peak switch sub and dom!!!!

that's fucking right kaishin is actually peak switch and i will die on this fucking hill!!!!!!!!!!

when you say shinichi would be the "obvious top," i'd like to assume in your heart you actually meant "the obvious dom" (LOL) but i think that could also apply to kaito.

i think the appeal of kaishin is the push and pull between them. the give and take. they're always trying to one-up each other. sometimes one pushes and the other gives way, sometimes it's the other way around.

i will be honest, perhaps switch pairings might just be my preference but I have never encountered a pairing that felt this completely equal in the switch department more than kaishin. like for other ships i'd sometimes be like, "yeah they switch but A is 70% more dom than B." But for kaishin I'm like, "oKAY THEY'RE 50/50 THEY'RE EQUALS THEY'RE PERFECT HALVES RAAAAAHHHH"

now how does this answer your question? well, i have no proof and im going off of vibes and like i said im no veteran in this ship fandom but, i think a lot of people do enjoy the other way around as you think it would've been. it's just that...it's something that can just be filed under the kaishin tag too. because it's basically the same sometimes. the only different thing is who's topping and bottoming. like sometimes i'm scrolling through twitter and i'd see art that's giving shinkai but it's tagged as kaishin and vice versa lol.

also personally i prefer calling them kaishin because i love the letter k and i associate the name shinkai more with makoto shinkai so every time i see people refer to kaishin as shinkai, my mind just conjures up an image of kaito, shinichi, and makoto shinkai together and i know that's fucking hilariously weird but it sometimes happens!!!! LMAO so even if i'm thinking about shinkai stuff, i still prefer using the name kaishin lol.

(but having the kaishin/shinkai distinction is definitely still useful especially for people who want to filter through one way or the other so fuck yeah to the ship name shinkai you're here to stay!!!)

anyway in conclusion, top shinichi is popular too dw lol, or maybe i should say bottom kaito is popular too lol i see yalls

also sorry that this answer is not only late but also a whole essay that doesn't even straightforwardly answer your question lol my bad anon

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmate AU of sorts? Like, every subject of Ymir gets visited by the Godfather at some point during their life. The Godfather comes to the person “at the right moment” with a few ring models for the person to choose within (each ring is made with the respective person in mind and their personality/life, all made by Ymir herself). The one ring that gets chosen is then given to their soulmate by the Godfather. The whole idea is for the person to get their ring back from their soulmate when they meet (if they meet) (and for the soulmate to get their ring too from the person).

NO RING LOOKS ALIKE. EACH ONE IS UNIQUE, MADE SPECIFICALLY FOR THE PERSON.

IF the person doesn't like any of the rings, they can describe their dream ring to the Godfather. However, in that scenario the person doesn't get to see the ring until they meet their soulmate. IF the person refuses to choose a ring altogether (say they either don't believe in soulmates or have no interest in taking part of this), the Godfather decides for them. That's for in case the person changes their mind at some point.

The soulmates don't have to be strictly romantic or anything like that. The pair(s) are decided based on how compatible the two are, made by Ymir herself to help her subjects avoy the pain and suffering she went through for loving the king. They're perfectly made for each other so to say. Still, Ymir doesn't force anything on anyone. She just wants to help.

IF the soulmate isn't a subject of Ymir, then they don't get to choose a ring (for example, Niccolo doesn't choose a ring BUT gets Sasha’s ring. And Sasha doesn't get any ring, but she gets to choose hers). Theoretically speaking someone can have more soulmates, but the cases are extremely rare.

No ranting about JeanMarco with this one, mostly because I don't have much to say on the matter lol. Marco gets Jean's ring within a few weeks prior to enrolling and Jean gets Marco's ring two years into their training (because let's be honest, Jean at the very beginning wouldn't be ready for the realization that Marco's his soulmate. Jean after two whole years of friendship though?). I don't see Marco going around asking people about their ring and stuff, so he keeps it ‘secret’(he just doesn't open the subject). Is only when Jean goes to Marco and shows him the ring Godfather gave him that, you know, pieces start to fall into place. Marco doesn't even let Jean rant excitedly about it, he straight up pulls out the ring out of the pocket and pushes it in Jean's face. The whole situation is chaotic. I think. Too tired to think properly rn.

[cinnabeat]

its interesting bc natori is trying to protect natsume the only way he knows how and natsume is being confronted with things hes never had to before and hes learning a lot of things abt himself and his worldview

[foolinafable]

your wildest dream, his nightmare

Five Hargreeves x Reader Synopsis: Walking into Max’s diner as a respite after you and Five are seemingly stuck you don’t think you could’ve imagined a better outcome surrounded by various versions of your lover. At the same time, for him it’s nothing more than a bad dream he hopes will end soon. Word count: 760 Tags: Fluff, Jealous Five, Crackfic Note: This small fic because it's funny to imagine jealous Five being jealous of himself

“Come on”

Five grabbed your hand as he led you out of the tube to, probably, another timeline. It must have been a few hours the two of you had been stuck in this place going station to station still with no idea how to get back. 

You turned left but instead of being greeted with the usual blankness for Five to scribble about in his notebook you instead were somewhat blinded by the light of a sign.

‘Max’s delicatessen.’ You made eye contact with Five to the side of you before tilting your head with a nod towards the building. He simply followed your lead before quickly grabbing the door to let you in first. 

You turned back to smile in thanks when you noticed his shocked expression, head quickly turned back towards the diner at a call of your name to see the whole diner was made up of your lover. Looking back to Five, your Five, in bewilderment a shocked smile on your face.

The look on your face seemed to take him out of his stupor clearing his throat before leading you into the diner- trying to find an empty table for you to sit at. He was quickly stopped by another Five, one sat on his own, and gestured for the two of you to sit opposite him. Five begrudgingly agreed as he realised the restaurant was at max capacity. No spare table in sight.

You quickly shuffled onto the brown bench when the other Five spoke 

“It’s rare to see one of you around here” he smiled happy to see you

“Maybe this is not my typical scene” you rebutted a cheeky smile on your face that the Five opposite you seemed to enjoy, dimple now showing from smiling so wide

“Maybe” he breathed out in a laugh 

Before you could continue to speak with this version of Five another one appeared in front of you, this one not wearing a suit or vest. He quickly placed down a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich in front of your Five. He then turned to you placing a very familiar drink in front of you

“Your favourite” he declared when you looked confused  

“How did you know?” You smiled at him eyebrows furrowing as his cheeks went red

“We all know your favourites” he shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world

“Um- Thanks” you nodded your head in gratitude 

“Anything for the missus” he mumbled before leaving to go back to the kitchen 

You took a sip of your drink when your Five spoke irritated “What was that about?” a hand possessively stroking at your thigh 

“A lot of us having seen our version of her in a long time” the other Five spoke wistfully   

“How sad” you stated before turning around in your seat you waved and greeted the Fives around you who all became quite delighted at your attention all greeting you with a similar bravado.

“Okay.” Five declared “I think we are done here” he quickly at up pulling you up with him by grabbing hold of your hand once more 

“But we just got here, can’t we stay a little longer and rest?” you asked not wanting to leave. I mean why would you, surrounded by multiple versions of the man who loved you, say no to having his attention on you?

“No, we need to get back to my family in our timeline, come on. We are wasting time.” he rebutted practically pulling you away from the diner seemingly getting even more annoyed as the other Fives shouted goodbyes towards you.

“I didn’t realise I was so annoying, that was a nightmare” Five claimed as you sat on a train hopefully taking you back home

“Sure you weren’t jealous?” you quipped staring at him mischievously

“No” he grumbled arms crossing against his chest

“Then you won’t mind if I-” you spoke moving towards the doors to go back to the diner, quickly shutting up when Five grabbed your hands pulling you back onto the seat beside him. You simply smiled at his look of false ire towards you as the train started to move. Resting your head on his shoulder as he let a smile grace his features giving a kiss to the top of your head.

You hope that at some point you will get to return to the diner- a place you have just coined akin to heaven on earth.               

[reshinless]

Can you write kinich x reader smut

──── i w'na ride?!

𝜗𝜚 synopsis. whatever position he wants >_o

𝜗𝜚 pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader(?) see this however u want cuz in som of the bullets i use boobs or discreetly mention chests (kinich is also a lowk perv)

𝜗𝜚 director's notice. i'll explain why he'd like this trust me, !!nsfw content ahead!!

inspired by the moments where he kept hitting the pose where his hands behind his head plus the one scene where he sat in a tree with his hands behind his back (or maybe i'm imagining things.)

kinich who reluctantly visits the beach(es) plus hot springs in the toyac springs region because mualani says you both need it, seeing as how much you both work beside each other, you'll definitely need a nice bath! especially the rumors of the heated conditions the springs seem to excrete.

kinich who no matter how long you and him have met each other, he'll never get used to seeing you in a bathing suit. even when you both were still kids fooling around on the beach with mualani. the atmosphere back then has almost never changed, walking along the sandy coast, feeling each little particle fall over your toes, the sun roughly about to set, the scenery was a sight to behold!

now that you both were older.. he would be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to you, your way of fighting, your appearance, how well you compliment him, it was almost like a corrupt addiction. even ajaw mentions how cheesy it is each time he sees kinich looking at you, whether it be lust or love in his green eyes.

mualani was overjoyed to hear that you've never gone out to swim, especially in the temperature she's usually in. kinich decides to tag along, totally not because he definitely wouldn't mind seeing you in different swimsuits/trunks.

kinich who you didn't mind letting him stay outside the changing room while you put on different suits while mualani actually help you choose (unlike someone who just kept ogling his eyes at you)

mualani who chose something that revealed more than appropriate portion of your skin (which was a lot, and imagine this similar to the one lumine wore!!), kinich who couldn't stop eyeing you up and down, ajaw teasing with digital sunglasses over his face; "y'know sunglasses help cover up what you're tryna look at!"

cue kinich smacking bro away again :pray:

you only got more attractive in his eyes. watching how you walk up to him, holding out a bottle of sunscreen to him, asking if he'd put some on your back before you'd go surfing on mualani's shark.

kinich didn't wanna admit but he was a little more than just turned on while spreading the lotion over your shoulders and back down to your back, his calloused hands feeling you up and down..

kinich who felt a little guilty but couldn't help but always slowly let his view dip down to your ass. shit he could already imagine what it'd look like without that last piece of clothing. too bad he can't rip it off you right here and now.

kinich who ran his hands around your chest, your sides, every curve that you wouldn't suspect him from.. he could already feel the tent in his pants rise.

kinich who couldn't resist looking at your pretty body through the blurriness of the water, almost forgetting to swim back up from being a little more than distracted. only coming back up after mualani mentions he's the winner of holding their breath underwater challenge.

a sigh of relief.. or maybe pleasure rather remembering yesterday on how close he got to be to you, palming his erection with hurriedness, thinking of how soft you felt under his fingers, only a thin layer of sunscreen that wouldn't make it weird between you both, kinich catches himself moan your name quietly in the changing room before he goes back out to you and mualani for day two of your summer break of 5 days in total.

sitting under the comfortable shade of an umbrella he brought, putting sunglasses on to rest for a bit before going in the water, or at least that is what it looks like. in all real reality, he was taking sneaky glances at you from less than appropriate angles, he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.

kinich could barely hold himself back for the next 2 days, wherein you all toured around mualani's hometown (for the sixtieth time, but then again it never gets old seeing a different culture every now and then!)

on the last day of your adventures with mualani, she offers for you both to finally bask in the warmth of the hot springs! the natural wonder of her home! kinich was reluctant at first, but agreed seeing how you were just oh-so happy to oblige.

this time, mualani got you a different swimsuit, one muuuuuchhh more revealing this time. it's clear now that she knows kinich's little crush on you, and now she knew that you liked him back.

mualani who coincidentally forgot the milk, and silly snacks she baked earlier that morning, oh would you look at the time! i guess she has to go get them... kinich who lowkey panicks, he already is a little flustered from your new look (but manages to quickly cool himself down)

kinich who is gentle while letting you slowly dip your feet into the water, this wasn't his first time here but he knew it was yours, stepping into the water first while holding your palms softly.

you two finally both sit in the springs comfortably, right in front of him, talking about whatever you and mualani did while he sunbathed (under an umbrella). building sandcastles and such.

"ahhh... kinichhhh! you should've been there. i would've wanted you there at least, dunno about mualani-" it felt like almost immediately his trunks tightened.. maybe he got the wrong size?

oh but the sound of you verbally saying you needed him definitely is a huge turn on. well you didn't necessarily say 'need' but you definitely wanted him there, good enough.

kinich who already has you straddled on top of him, directly on his boner, fuck he could feel it already. his hands are already on your hips letting you grind over his erection, this felt better than he could've ever fantasized of!

kinich who lets you ride him, the water you both were already surrounded only made it sound all the more dirtier. it didn't help that the sly little smile on your face, all he could do was bury his face into an arm of his own, looking away from you.

kinich whose hands were in his hair, intertwining with every little strand, the flush on his face only worsened each time you bounced on it, he could barely make eye contact with you, not because he didn't want you.. ohh it was because he thinks if he did he'd come immediately!!

kinich who holds you close as his climax comes closer as well, holding you tight in his embrace, he could feel your warmth, your skin, your everything, all he could was quickly drift his calloused palms back down to your hips, making sure no drop of cum was waaaasssttteeedddd

you could see how good you made him feel, even with just a sneaky, yet lustful glance, yet plop plop plop is all you can hear echoing throughout the cave, your hands propped up on the wall as kinich pushed against your back, his grunts only getting louder, eager to please you. seeing how your eyebrows knotted

kinich who felt intoxicated as hell in your scent, almost breathless as his head fits into the empty slot right beside your collar, fire pooled down inside your abdomen as you slowly reached your peak, watching how beautifully your eyes rolled back, feeling warm semen shoot up in your stomach. holy shit were you a beauty to see.

the musky scent of sweat mixed with the warm water below you both, kinich could still feel you clench harshly on his cock, even after release, fixed & still processing what you both had just done.

kinich who brings you out the bath, wrapped in a towel, bridal style and all, before mualani can come back with the milk and snacks- "hey what is that white stuff mixed in the water- what did you two do?!"

kinich who holds your hand while you both stroll throughout the shops opened up at nighttime, the constellations in the sky connected like it was used to it, the fresh scent of grilled fish was clear in the air's aroma, filling everyone's noses, mualani couldn't just give all this fish just to you two anyway!

kinich who fully confessed his feelings to you, no sex no lust, just him wanting you to sense how much he's been longing for you, in hopes you'd reciprocate it. in which you did with open arms!

m: "aha! i knew it! you both finally told each other you like each other didn't you!!", k: "no need to shout.", y/n: "i suppose!"

mualani will stop teasing for now, and let you two be, just with each other as the stars reflect off the light you've shone into his life.

kinda cringe might delete :100:

[starz-n-stuff]

Dc x dp headcanon/prompt idea thing! If u wanna use just tag me on here with a link if it’s ao3 or wherever else

What if the GIW controls what’s accessible on the internet? Okay so imagine that for whatever reason Tim Drake has a laptop from Danny or maybe Tucks PDA:

“Hey, Tim, you called while I was in class so now you’re on speaker and everyone can hear you.” Danny tells him quickly before he can say anything.

“Alright,” Tim doesn’t seem to care if the class is able to hear, “so the laptop is fine now, but it wasn’t letting me into some things, citing an error code that shouldn’t exist so I did some digging and Danny is there only one network provider in Amity?”

“Yeah, everyone uses it, why?”

“I think they’re controlling what is visible to you all on the internet. Because there’s no result online for Superman or, or, the Justice League, none of that.”

You could hear a pin drop in the classroom, even Lancer, who had been intending to tell Danny to hang up or take the call into the hallway was staring at Danny and the phone, spinning a pencil in his hands.

“Who… who are those people? Superman and…” Danny trails off.

“Superman is an alien from the planet Krypton. Our sun gives him powers like flight, heat vision, ice breath, and a whole lot more.” Tim explains, “and The Justice League is an organization of superhero’s dedicated to protecting Earth and its inhabitants. If they knew about Phantom or Amity, or had received any sort of distress call they would’ve sent someone over with a similar power set and helped train Phantom, since he’s a newer hero.”

It’s silent in the classroom. Nobody has anything to say.

“Can you fix it?” Danny asks, voice scratchy from the burning in the back of his eyes and throat.

So yeah— I know nothing about technology n stuff so feel free to like play around with the idea. Also did anybody else’s teachers make us answer our phones on speaker if they rang in class? Or was that just my terrible high school?

[gothcsz]

ugh I want to be sat on javi's desk whilst he tells me to spread my legs so he can see how wet I am for him 😩😩😩

tags: f!reader, lil bit of dirty talk, terms of endearment (amor, baby), established relationship, husband!javi, no use of y/n, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), oral (f), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 3k w/c - gif cred

a/n: two very similar prompts that i have merged together and hope lives up to what you guys were asking for 🖤 thank you @almostempty for finding the gif for me because that's all i was thinking about when i started writing this. also dedicating this to @yxtkiwiyxt because i know you love husband javi 🖤

The soft click of the door shutting behind you barely registers as you slip into his home office. Your eyelids are heavy, the remnants of sleep still tugging at your senses as you blink them away. The clock on the wall reads 3:00 a.m. sharp.

The gentle glow of his desk lamp casts a golden hue over his chiseled profile. It’s a scene you’ve walked into countless times—Javier immersed in his work, utterly focused, documents spread haphazardly across the desk.

“Amor,” his voice scrapes through the quiet, rough and low from hours of silence. He leans back in his chair, the leather groaning softly beneath him, and his arms open, beckoning you close. His dark eyes soften when they meet yours. “What are you doing up?”

You step toward him without hesitation, as though pulled by a force you can’t resist. Sliding onto his lap sideways, you settle yourself against his comforting frame, resting your head in the warm crook of his neck.

The familiar scent of him—a mix of his cologne and the faint, earthy tang of coffee—wraps around you like a blanket. 

“I can’t sleep without you, Javi,” you murmur, pouting slightly as your fingers idly trace patterns on the fabric of his shirt. “You know that.”

His large hand trails up and down your spine in slow, soothing strokes. He presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head, and his sigh feels as heavy as the workload surrounding him. “I know baby,” he murmurs. “I just have a lot to get through before my meeting in the morning.”

You groan in frustration, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. Your lower lip juts out in a way you know he finds irresistible, but it’s not just an act. “Sometimes it feels like you prioritize this,” you say, gesturing toward the chaotic sprawl of documents on his desk, “over me.”

His mustache twitches with a frown, the corners of his mouth tugging downward. “Don’t say that,” the sincerity in his tone clear. “You know that’s not true.”

“Then why are you here instead of in bed with me?” Your tone softens, though the ache of loneliness seeps through.

You know he works hard, tirelessly, to provide for you, to ensure you both have the life you dreamed of. But knowing that doesn’t always make it easier to compete with the demands of his job. Sometimes, it feels like you’re fighting for scraps of his time, his attention.

He doesn’t respond right away, but he doesn’t need to. Over the years, you’ve learned to read every nuance of your husband—the slight crease between his brows, the way his lips press together, the tension in his jaw. Reaching up, you trace a finger along his jawline, your thumb brushing gently over the sharp curve of his cheekbone.

His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you feel the tension in him ebb away, piece by piece.

Javier’s arms tighten around you, one hand resting on your bare thigh, right where your oversized t-shirt rides up, the other pressing into the small of your back. “You want me to come to bed?” 

His warm breath sends a shiver down your spine as his nose skims along your jawline, and you hum in response, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

His lips ghost along your skin, scattering kisses that make your breath hitch. “Seems like I’ve been neglecting my duties. Got my girl sittin’ here, pouting in my lap, begging for attention.” The faint rasp in his voice has lust pooling low in your belly.

A whimper escapes before you can stop it, your hips shifting instinctively against his lap. You’ve missed this—the intensity, the intimacy, the way he always manages to make you feel like the center of his universe, even when life pulls him in every other direction.

His hand inches higher, the rough pad of his thumb brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his knuckles grazing the edge of your cotton panties, sending a spark through your body.

 “Bet she’s warm and wet for me,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear before catching your earlobe between his teeth.

Your thighs part almost involuntarily, “Javi,” you moan, burying your face in his neck, your lips latching onto the spot just below his jaw.

His groan vibrates against you, low and guttural. His free hand comes down hard on your thigh with a satisfying smack, making you yelp and arch in surprise. 

“You can’t be marking me up like that, mi amor. It’s not exactly professional for me to walk into a meeting with a giant hickey.”

You bite back a smirk, your teeth grazing his jaw before whispering, “I don’t care.”

His response is swift and deliberate. The hand that had been teasing between your thighs moves, strong fingers wrapping around your throat in a firm but unyielding grip. He pulls you back from his neck, forcing your gaze to lock with his. The intensity in his dark eyes makes your breath hitch, and the way his thumb brushes the underside of your jaw sends a thrill down your spine.

“Don’t be like this, baby,” he rasps, his tone commanding but laced with affection, his thumb brushing lightly over the delicate skin of your throat.

He leans in, drawing you closer by the grip on your neck, his lips brushing yours so faintly it feels like a tease.

The tickle of his mustache against your skin makes you shiver, your thighs twitching in anticipation. The ache between your legs grows unbearable, and your mind spins with the need to feel him—any part of him. His pretty mouth, his strong hands, his delicious cock… you’d take it all, every piece of him until there was nothing left to take.

“Please,” you whisper, desperation dripping from your voice as you close the sliver of space between you and kiss him. It starts soft, your tongue gliding along his bottom lip before slipping into his mouth, tasting him deeply. He responds with a low groan, his tongue tangling with yours, and the hand at your neck tightens just enough to make your head spin.

You moan into his mouth, your free hand sliding down the front of his shirt, savoring the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers flirt with the cool metal of his belt buckle before venturing lower, cupping his hardening length through his slacks.

The sultry sound that escapes him urges you to palm him, your touch deliberate as you apply more pressure, delighting in the way he twitches beneath your hand.

His hips shift involuntarily, and you squirm on his lap, the dampness between your thighs growing as your neglected pussy aches for attention.

Javier breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your jawline, then back to your mouth, where he bites and nips at your bottom lip. His hand moves from your throat to your chest, cupping and kneading your tits through the fabric of your shirt. The feeling has you arching into him, silently begging for more as your nipples pucker.

When his hand slides back between your legs, you let out a shaky breath, your head falling to his shoulder. His thumb traces a teasing line up your soaked slit, the fabric of your panties doing nothing to dull the feeling. He alternates between feather-light touches and firm squeezes of your thighs, keeping you trembling and needy in his lap.

You latch onto his lips again, kissing him feverishly, your desperation bleeding into every movement. The air between you is electric, the sound of wet kisses and shared breaths filling the room. Javier doesn’t pull away, doesn’t rush you—he matches your pace, taking everything you’re giving him and giving it back tenfold.

His thumb circles your clit over your panties, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallows with a grin. “You’re so wound up, cariño,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “Can’t even think straight, can you?”

You shake your head, a breathy moan spilling from your mouth as he continues to toy with you, always a tease.

Javier’s dark eyes flick up to yours, filled with that commanding intensity that never fails to make your stomach flip. “Sit on the desk.”

Without hesitation, you do as he says, sliding off his lap and onto the edge of the polished wood, your palms bracing against its surface.

You perch there, your knees drawn together, but the look in his eyes tells you he wants more.

Javier rolls his chair forward, the scrape of its legs on the floor adding to the charged atmosphere. He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your knee. The warmth of his lips against your skin is welcomed, and when he taps your other knee with his fingers, you know exactly what he wants.

“Spread them, baby,” his command is like gravel smoothed by velvet. “Let me see how wet you are.”

Your heart races as you part your legs, the mess between them undeniable. His gaze drops, locking onto the damp spot that has already formed in the center of your panties. A wicked smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he leans forward, pressing another kiss on your skin—this time on the inside of your knee.

His warm breath fans against your thigh as he drags his tongue along its length, stopping just short of where you ache for him most.

His curved nose nudges against your cunt, and you gasp softly, the intimate gesture making you feel hot all over. He inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if savoring the scent of you. “Tan rica, amor.”

Javier’s tongue presses against the fabric of your panties, licking a broad, wet stripe that has you quivering under his touch. Your elbows give slightly as you lean back, surrendering to him wholly.

He hums in satisfaction, his hands firm on your thighs to keep you steady and spread as he works you over by tonguing at you over the fabric.

When he hooks a finger under the edge of your panties and pulls them aside, the cool air hits your bare skin, making you whimper. His eyes darken at the sight of your glistening folds, the damp curls surrounding your beautiful pussy, and he lowers his head again, delivering gentle kisses with his plush lips. 

The wet sounds of his mouth meeting your skin are indecently loud, and the lewd intimacy of it has your head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mutters, his voice muffled against you. “Miss her so much. Miss you.”

The affection in his words melts into the overwhelming pleasure as his tongue dips into your slit, circling your clit with unrelenting precision. A soft moan escapes your lips, and your thighs twitch beneath his touch, unable to resist the way he knows exactly how to undo you.

He grips you tighter, keeping you spread for him as his tongue delves deeper, tasting every heady inch of you. His groans vibrate against your sensitive skin, and the sheer devotion in his actions leaves you trembling, utterly at his mercy.

“Javi,” you moan, his name spilling from your lips as he devours you with an unrelenting hunger. The coarseness of his mustache against your slick folds sends jolts of pleasure through your body, and your hips buck upwards, desperate to feel more of him.

When his teeth graze your swollen clit, you yelp, the sharp edge sensation of it making your back arch as you fall flat against the desk. The crumple of papers beneath you is barely a thought in your mind, overwhelmed as you are by the pleasure of his ministrations.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, tangling in the soft brown curls and tugging hard.

He groans against you, the vibration an added stimulant from the amazing head he’s always giving you. “Oh yes, Javi, just like that,” you gasp, urging him on as your thighs tremble.

His lips close around your clit, sucking harshly, and you feel your breath lodge in your throat. Then he shakes his head, the movement rough and deliberate, and the friction of his facial hair combined with the firm press of his nose against your most sensitive spot has you spiraling.

“Oh fuck!” you cry out, your body trembling as the tension inside you winds tighter and tighter, especially when he stuffs his tongue inside of your fluttering hole, fucking you with it.

Javier pulls back just enough to spit on your cunt, the lewd sound making your body crave him more. His fingers slide through the mix of saliva and your creamy arousal, swirling it around the mouth of your cunt before he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you.

Your back bows off the desk, a yelp tearing from your lips as he sets a rhythm that’s both rough yet fulfilling. His fingers curl and twist just right, pressing against that spot that makes your entire body vibrate and colorful spots dot your vision.

He doesn’t relent, his mouth is back on your clit in an instant, his tongue flicking over it with a precision born from all the hours he’s spent learning your body.

The combined assault of his mouth and fingers is too much and not enough all at once. You’re drowning in the sensations, every nerve alight as he drives you closer to the edge with every pump, every lick. “Javi,” you choke out, your nails scraping against his scalp as the heat in your core threatens to spill over. “I’m gonna—”

He hums against you, doubling down on his efforts as if daring you to let go, and with one final wet, hot suck, you do.

Your orgasm crashes over you, ripping through your body in waves that leave you crying out his name, utterly undone in his hands.

When he pulls away, a glistening string of your essence clings to his swollen lips. His tongue sweeps it up eagerly, savoring you with a deep, satisfied hum, as if he hadn’t just devoured you from the inside out.

You barely register the clink of his belt being undone, the metallic sound followed by the soft rustle of fabric as he pushes his pants down just enough to free himself. His cock stands thick and proud, the head flushed in an angry red and glistening with precum, his heavy balls hanging beneath it, full and ready.

The sight alone makes your mouth water and your cunt clench with fresh need.

Javier leans over you, capturing your lips in a messy, hungry kiss. The tangy taste of your arousal lingers on his tongue as it slides against yours, drawing a whimper from your throat.

His groan reverberates through you as he drags the velvety, swollen head of his cock along the sticky seam of your cunt, spreading your wetness and teasing your sensitive clit.

He swirls himself around your nub, igniting sparks all over your overstimulated body, then slaps the hot tip against your bundle of nerves, making you cry out. “Javi,” you gasp, your hips bucking toward him, desperate for more.

He finds your entrance, the warmth of you wrapping around him as he pushes in slowly, savoring every inch. The guttural sound he makes when he sinks into you is pure sin. “Always so wet and tight for me,” he grunts, his teeth gritting as your slick walls stretch to accommodate him.

You throw your head back, a litany of curses and pleas spilling from your lips. “Oh fuck—Javi—you feel so good. I need you to make me feel this for days.”

He growls low in his throat at your words, his hips pressing flush against yours as he fills you completely, the heat of his cock nestled deep within you. The damp fabric of your shirt clings to your sweat-slicked skin, but all you can focus on is the way he feels—how his cock seems to claim every part of you.

Javi kisses you again, rough and unrelenting, before standing to his full height, his strong hands gripping you as he adjusts your position.

Your hips dangle just over the edge of the desk, his hand squeezing the curve of your ass while the other slides beneath your shirt to cup your breast. His fingers find your nipple, tugging and rolling it as he begins to move, pulling out  almost completely, his cock glistening with your arousal before he slams back into you.

The wet, obscene sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, spurring him on. Your hips rise to meet his, finding a rhythm together that has both of you moaning unabashedly, the desk creaking beneath you. 

Your cries and his grunts blend into a symphony of lust. 

“That’s right, baby,” he says through clenched teeth, his hand leaving your breast to shove your shirt up, exposing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. His pupils dilate as he watches the bounce of your tits with each thrust, his cock sawing in and out of you relentlessly. “Fucking take it. Take all of me.”

You grab his hand, guiding it back to your chest. “Don’t stop,” you plead, holding his palm over your breast as your second orgasm builds, hot and insistent. “More, Javi—give me more.”

He nearly growls, his hands roaming over you feverishly before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you upright. Your legs wrap around his hips, your arms clutching his shoulders as he fucks up into you. The change in angle is devastating, each thrust hitting deeper, making you go absolutely fucking crazy.

Your cries of his name are music to his ears, your nails raking down his back as your slickness drenches his cock, soaking the front of his thighs. His balls slap against your ass with every thrust, heavy with the promise of his release.

You bite down on his neck, your lips sucking at the spot he’d scolded you for earlier. He doesn’t stop you, though; if anything, the sharp sting of your teeth makes his own head spin. His hips snap harder, his breaths ragged against your ear. “Shit, amor—I’m close. But you first. I need to take care of you.”

Leaning back, you brace your palms on the desk, your hips swiveling against him as the tension inside you snaps. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, milking his cock as you gush, your release coating him in a creamy sheen.

“Javi!” you scream, your entire body trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure.

His dark brown eyes are glued to where your bodies are joined, watching the creamy ring of your slick coating his cock with every stroke. It’s too much for him, and he buries himself deep with a hoarse shout of your name, his thick, hot release spilling inside you in thick, satisfying spurts, filling you to the brim.

Both of you collapse against each other, breaths ragged and mingling as your high slowly fades. His cock softens inside you, but neither of you rushes to pull away.

“It just gets better every time,” he murmurs, his lips peppering affectionate kisses along your neck and jaw before capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as he sighs contentedly. “Now,” you murmur, your voice soft and teasing, “will you come to bed?”

He pulls back just enough to brush his nose against yours, his lips curving into a smirk before stealing one last kiss. “Of course, mi amor.”

[joonsytip]

Left for Ruins || Seungcheol [Teaser]

Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Crime, Smut, Fluff, Office Worker Husband!Seungcheol, Investigative Journalist Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Being an investigative journalist, you would do anything to unravel the truth, even if it means getting married to the timid office worker Choi Seungcheol, who was in fact the best friend of your brother who went missing seven years ago.

Warnings: Mentions of all sorts of criminal activities, reader and Seungcheol are two people with contrasting personalities, exploitation, gaslighting, heavy themes involving syndicate etc.

Thanks to @diamonddaze01 for the amazing banner! ♡

Comment or send an ask if you wanna be tagged.

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

“I want you to marry me.”

Seungcheol is currently cornered, shying away from the proximity, unable to meet eyes even.

“W-Why do you want me to marry you?”, he manages to utter, body leaning back in reflex as you close in further.

All he gets from you is a very known cunning smile.

As you watch him like he's a prey, he pleads with you to give him some space.

“You're in your thirties, don't have a partner, got a stable job and a clean image. Don't you think we'd look good together?”, your hands take off his glasses, making him look into your eyes, “You are handsome and I've known you for as long as I can remember.”

Seungcheol finds it hard to maintain eye contact. Always soft spoken, he hesitates to ask you questions.

He needs time, he needs a push. You know it all and you know him all too well.

As expected, his hands reach yours to get back his glasses. He gently takes it and puts it back on. His eyes meet yours at his own will, for the first time that night.

“I’m practically blind without my glasses.”, he says softly, “Can I ask you some questions? Will you please answer them? And I have a lot to ask.”

You find it amusing, the way he awaits your response. If you deny, you're sure no questions will be asked. You're confident that you'd be able to coax him into marrying you with no such difficulties anyways.

You're known to be ruthless. You don't bat an eye before deceiving people, lies naturally flow out of your mouth.

When you give a nod, he asks you to take a seat, mainly for himself so you could back off and he could finally breathe.

“You've known me for years, Y/N. And I'm sure you're not asking me to marry you because you have feelings for me. Tell me the truth and I'll consider it.”

Your eyes glint dangerously but it's gone suddenly.

Your face falls, melancholia starts pouring into the atmosphere.

“I’ll be honest.”, you say, sounding sincere, “You were closest to my brother. It's been seven years since I saw him. I heard time heals but for me it's making things worse. I still can't believe that a good person like Daon would disappear overnight.”

Seungcheol takes the seat beside you, his heart aching in the memories of his best friend.

Your gaze drops at your lap, letting the sudden wave of tears stream down your face. It's a wound, unattended, always fresh.

With a croak in your voice you continue, “My brother trusted you the most and for me, I know that you've always tried to be a shelter, looking over as a guardian figure.”

Seungcheol’s demeanor is similar to yours, as he says, “When Daon disappeared, I just couldn't forgive myself. It always occurred to me that I should have searched more, did I give up too early? What if he's still waiting for me? I'll always live with this guilt.”

You both sit in silence.

“We could never repay you, what you did for us back then is something not even family members do.”, you feel Seungcheol go stiff when you place your hand on top of his, “My mom is nagging me to get married and I realised I trust you a lot. That if I gotta do this, I'd rather do it with you. I feel safe around you, Cheol.”

His ears are turning red, mouth going dry. His entire body screams for help.

You study him carefully, lips twitching as he excuses himself out of his home office for a moment.

As soon as he's out, you're off your seat.

“You're insane, Y/N.”, you could sense the disbelief in the voice coming from the earpiece, “You should be an actress.”

“Shut up, Jeonghan.”, you say through gritted teeth, “I have never let my hair down for this long, it's starting to irritate me. My ears are itching.”, you fix your hair so it covers the device in your ear.

Your mouth launches a string of complaints while your hands place work effortlessly to plant bugs over several places.

“The guy seems like a decent person. Throwing a marriage proposal just to wiretap his office seems a bit too much.”, Jeonghan keeps on speaking through the earpiece, "What if he agrees to the marriage, how are you so sure he won't?

You pay no attention to his rambles, skimming through the papers and files, eyes often darting to the door.

“Make sure the devices are working fine. I placed only one camera though, no place to hide others.”, your brows furrow as you go through the files, “Nothing useful here. Maybe I could get something in the drawers.”

But the sounds of footsteps approaching makes you halt.

Seungcheol on entering back notices you in the same stance as when he leaves you.

He carefully walks towards you, almost guilty when he kneels in front of you, “I appreciate that you think so highly of me but we're exactly opposite in terms of personality and aspirations. We won't work out. I'm sorry, Y/N but I can't marry you.”

You hear Jeonghan sighing in relief.

“Woah, he really didn't take the bait.”, you hear him mumbling, “We're done here. It's time for you to leave.”

Jeonghan is about to speak again but he hears sobs.

Seungcheol eyes you in horror as he watches you sob hysterically. Your eyes are red, nose flaring.

“Why don't you understand, Cheol?”, you choke, struggling to speak but do nonetheless, “Do I really need to spell it out for you!!”

Jeonghan shrieks on the other side, this wasn't on the card.

“Calm down Y/N.”, Seungcheol hesitantly holds your hands.

A second later he's about to turn to grab water for you but freezes.

“I like you, Choi Seungcheol! I really like you, a lot.”

Seungcheol's shaky hands somehow manage to grab your face, his eyes searching for yours, “Do you mean it?”

You scoff internally.

“Do I look like I'm joking?”, you say wiping your tears.

He observes you for a moment then you're being pulled into his embrace. Your lips curl up instantly.

Good for you, your tears flow as swiftly as your lies.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[oepionie]

— "THE PRINCESS TREATMENT." various

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend and the different ways he pampers and spoils you rotten ♡

⊹ [ cw ] — mentions of winter storms, prefect is implied to have bad living conditions, mild violence in the tweels parts, jade breaks someone's wrist, crowley slander, ace slander◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFFY! feminine reader! no gendered pronouns used, riddle uses his dorm position to spoil you, seeing trey driving is very hot, deuce biceps, leona and azul sugar daddy era, ruggie would rather freeze to death than have you be cold, jack carries you, jade and floyd will fight for you, rook makes you his muse and paints you, malleus renovates the entire diasomnia dorm for you, sebek carries your pink handbags◞

⊹ [ characters ] — riddle, trey, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, rook, malleus, sebek◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 4.9k+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞

—♰ RIDDLE

Princess treatment, Like—literally

Loathe is Riddle to admit—He can't deny the fact that being his lover meant you got special treatment. Prime example being your position at unbirthday parties. At the banquet table, just beside Riddle's designated throne, was your throne. Similar in style, it had a heart-shaped crest and golden frame; the only difference was that it was milky white rather than deep red. And despite his best efforts to downplay the favoritism shown to you, Riddle knows for a fact that he had the throne commissioned himself.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Come with me." The dorm leader says as he moves towards you, leading you towards your throne. He didn't fail to notice how your legs shook slightly as you walked alongside him or how your hands didn’t leave his coat once. Not that he minded.

The redhead clasped your hands in his as he sat you down onto the leather seat before adjusting the train of your dress to ensure that it wouldn't bother you.

"How are you fairing?" Riddle asked softly, kneeling before you to slip a leather-clad hand behind your knees. He set your feet up on a plush stool and slipped your pointed heels off, gently caressing your ankles. "I overheard you earlier, griping about your feet aching. I certainly hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."

"Ah, no. I just chose the wrong heels today. They're too pointy." You sighed, poking at your crimson red heels, which were discarded to the grassy sides. Groaning, you reclined back on your throne, the billowing, fluffy skirt of the dress Riddle had recently gifted tumbling all about you.

"I see." Riddle nodded in understanding, taking your hand and pressing a quick gentlemanly kiss on your wrists. "The croquet game is up next. I suppose you'd rather stay here?"

"Yeah, I think I need some alone time," you sigh. Riddle squeezes once more your hand in reply, letting his eyes shut in contemplation.

"Very well," He hums, moving to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "Do rest here a while, rose."

There was a soft smile as the leather of his hands glide across your back. "Oh, and, please let a member of my dorm know if you ever need anything. Worry not. I've instructed everyone here to be at your beck and call."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ TREY

Passenger princess treatment<3

Every weekend, it was routine for Trey to whisk you away from your beaten-up dorm. After all, he was sure it was nice to spend the day in a place where you weren't inhaling dust and spiders every second. Both of you would always go over to his parent's café in the city for a simple little brunch date. And without fail, Trey would always pick you up at 9am sharp by the school gates.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"… I was made for lovin' you, baby

You were made for lovin' me

And I can't get enough of you, baby

Can you get enough of me?"

Soft music played from the car's radio as the third-year weaved through the barren intersections, careful and slow. It seems as if the roads were merciful to you both today, calm and free of any traffic.

Trey languidly reaches one of his hands, calloused from his years of baking, over to rest gently on your thigh. His thumb rubs soft circles and nonsensical patterns over your plump skin while the other gripped the steering wheel in a loose hold, biceps flexing as he twisted the wheel to turn the car.

Focused as he was, you didn't miss how his gaze flits back and forth between the road and you, the expression swimming within them almost akin to a distant longing.

You place your hand atop his and lean against the passenger door. A wide grin spreads over your glossy red lips as you shake your head playfully. "Keep your eyes on the road."

Mirthful laughter spills from your mouth before your eyes flutter shut as you sway along to the song, mindlessly kicking your legs around. "Crashing and going to the hospital doesn't really sound like a good date idea."

A pensive smile creeps up on Trey's face, and he lets out a low chuckle. "Yeah? I just can't help it. You're a much more interesting sight."

He watched as the sun's dazzling light bathed your image in a beautiful, pleasant glow. To him, you looked ethereal, seemingly glowing and shining under the golden streaks of sunlight that pour through the windshield.

"What did I just say?" you sighed, smiling cheekily as you smoothed a hand over his clover-colored hair, fixing the stray strands moved askew by the wind from the open windows. "Hello~? Wonderland to Trey? Eyes on the road?"

He paused for a while before chuckling, his hands splaying out on the steering wheel as he turned his gaze back front. "Right, right. I'll be careful, princess."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰  DEUCE

Carries your things for you and will not let you do any heavy lifting at all plus he buys you drinks!

Screw Crowley Dire. You were sick of Ramshackle's awful, scratchy furniture. For once, you wished you could sit on something that wasn't littered with dust bunnies or looked like it came straight from the depths of the underworld—no offense to Idia. And so, using the money you had painstakingly saved over the last six months, you decided to buy a cute, frilly sofa.

Problem was—you couldn't lift it at all. It was too wide and heavy for your poor untrained arms. Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was more than happy to help ^^

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Um…Deuce? Are you sure you don't want me to work?" Perched atop the kitchen counters, you were worriedly staring down at him.

While he was preoccupied with lifting the couch, you were lazily sipping on a bubble tea—a drink which he bought for you himself. Humming, you let your gaze move from the soft line of his cheekbone, to the sharper cut of his jaw, before resting it onto the thick of his arms. " I don't mind helping, you know."

Deuce was standing by the door, arms tucked beneath the couch as he braced himself for lifting. "Yeah, I got this. Don't worry."

Now, why was he here, exactly? Well…First off, you didn't intend to call him at all.

In the middle of trying to haul your couch into Ramshackle's entrance, Deuce had appeared out of nowhere, offering his help. Despite your vehement denial, the stubborn boy wouldn't take no for an answer, and eventually forced you to sit down, shoving the bright, bubbly drink in your hand without saying a word.

So, here you were. Shamelessly ogling at him while he tried to find a way to bring the couch in.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to get hurt—Oh!" You gasped, hand flying up to cover your agape mouth when Deuce easily lifted it up as if it were made of air. In response to your expression of astonishment, he grinned and playfully flexed his arms. "See?"

While Deuce set the couch down in front of the TV, you slipped off the counters and strode over to him. Jumping into his embrace, you draped your arms around his shoulder and pressed a big kiss on his cheeks, watching in delight as his face exploded in pink. "You're so strong! Thank you so much!"

Deuce let a wobbly smile stretch across his burning cheeks, his hands slack atop your hips. "Y-Yeah! No problem."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ LEONA

Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 + Hints at passenger princess treatment

Leona Kingscholar was not a romantic. Naturally, he has stayed to himself ever since he was little. This lion was not the kind to be sentimental, gooey, or emotional. So it is astonishing how quickly this stone-cold personality of his breaks down when he's around you.

Every little thing you do drives him into a lovesick frenzy, and he has no idea how to stop it. He wasn't particularly into grand displays of affection or romantic gestures. Ergo, in an effort to express his adoration, he turns to more…costly methods.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Tell me what you want." Leona demands, tone serious as he wraps a rough yet protective arm around your hips. Both of you were standing smack dab in the middle of a large shopping mall. Though the more you stood here, the more you began to realize that this place wasn't really your…ordinary mall.

First and foremost, when Leona pulled up, there was private parking, and that was already intimidating to you in and of itself. Second, it seems like every single store in here was a luxury brand. You've seen a couple of these logos plastered onto the tags of Vil's or Jade and Floyd's clothes.

As a matter of fact, you were pretty sure their plastic bags cost more than your entire yearly allowance combined.

"Ah, um…"  A nervous sweat built up on your brow as you fished your wallet out, peering into what little funds you had. "Leona, honey—I just needed to get some school supplies…Is there a different mall we can go to?" You sheepishly smiled up at him. "I don't think I can afford to get anything here."

Silence immediately follows as Leona stares at you with a dumbfounded look. Blinking bluntly, he scoffs. "Who said you were paying?"

"Hu-Huh?" You stammered, fiddling with your wallet. The lion's eyes were ripped wide open in shock, as if the mere thought of you spending your own money on your own things was a criminal act. Something so ludicrous that even a person with his deceptive persona finds it distasteful.

"Ain't it obvious already? I'm paying," Leona huffs, dragging you to a nearby jewelry shop. Behind the glass were displays of glittering pearls and jewels, each of which had delicate and intricate carvings. "And we're gettin' more than stationary."

"But-!" You start, only to get interrupted as his calloused hand clamps over your mouth.

"No buts."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰  RUGGIE

Giving you his coat when you're cold and just being sickeningly sweet<3

Ruggie was used to working for others, and this habit of his pours over to you. Though it wouldn't take long for people to notice that his acts of labor was…different with you.

For others, Ruggie works because there's an exchange, a benefit, or a payment for him. For you, however, he does things with no motive in mind. He would never ask for more because he genuinely didn't need anything more, and if he ever did, a simple kiss or hug from you would be plenty.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

It was a frigid winter day and both of you were walking to school together, a routine you both developed over the past few months. As you followed him through the deep snowfall, the cold wind nipped and bit at your skin, making you shudder. Despite the struggle, you push on, the rough pads of your boots dragging along the thick blankets of snow.

Unfortunately for you, the flimsy cardigan you bought at Sam's did nothing to keep your body safe from the cruel winter.

While Ruggie's oversized warm coat helps kept him sufficiently warmed up, you, on the other hand, are struggling. You know you should have gotten a thicker coat, but this was all you could afford last minute.

Ever so caring, your boyfriend is quick to notice this and turns back around, trudging through the snow to meet you.

"C'mere," Ruggie drags you into his embrace and starts to slowly inch the coat off his shoulders. With your form now pushed against his body, he takes the chance to press a soft kiss against your cheeks. At the exchange of affection, both of you erupt in soft giggles, lovesick grins stretched across your lips.

The moment feels intimate, loving, and safe.

"Here ya' go." Suddenly he's engulfing you in his thick cloak and zipping it up. Protesting, you try to give it back, but all he does is snicker and shake his head. He peppers warm kisses on the side of your bare frostbitten neck, relishing in the giggles that spill from your lips. "Keep it. I can handle the cold. I'm used to it but I can't have you freezin' out here, now can I?"

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰  JACK

Carries you when your feet start to hurt, tee hee

Jack was strong and well-disciplined. He's worked hard and trained himself to peak physical condition, yet even then, he's continually seeking to improve himself even more. He's tried it all: fitness routines, weight lifting, and sports. And it pays off.

His strength has proven useful in a variety of circumstances. from physical education classes, sporting events, marathons, and, strangely enough, carrying you when your heels begin to hurt your feet.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

Jack looks around the booths as he takes your hands in his, pulling you along the festival crowds, "Hm. I think the takoyaki stand is around here. You were craving that earlier, right?" If it weren't for the intense dull ache at the bottom of your ankles, you would have been delighted to hear about the delectable octopus snack.

Instead, you hissed and pulled on the beastman's hand, halting to a stop, unable to take the torture of your heels any longer. "Jack, hold on a second."

Groaning, you slouch down on a nearby bench and kick off your heels, scowling at the dull throb that's pressing itself against the back of your foot. Jack quickly knelt down by your side, ears alert and tail swishing.

"What's wrong?" He questions as he drags your legs over to rest on top of his firm thighs. "Do your feet hurt?"

"Yeah," you sigh. "I kinda regret putting on heels at a festival like this…I didn't realize it would hurt so bad. I just wanted to look cute."

The wolf ponders for a moment before swiftly turning around, presenting his back to you, "Get on."

"Eh?" You blinked, tilting your head to the side. Jack looks away, keeping his head tilted to the ground as a dark flush swept over his skin. "I'll carry you…I-If your feet hurt, I won't mind carrying you."

"Oh!" Smiling, you slip onto his back and wrap your arms snug around his neck. Jack clutches your heels in one hand while the other grasps onto your thigh. The beastman easily stands up, supporting both his and your weight as he heads towards the food stands.

"Who knew you were such a softie, Jack! Hehe." You tease, pressing a kiss against the side of his neck. The beastman flushed even more, avoiding your gaze at all cost.

"Tch. I-I don't go around doing this for anyone."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰  AZUL

Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 #2

Azul lived to spoil you.

For you, the octo-mer gleefully buys mountains of clothing. Your entire wardrobe has been thoughtfully planned by him (and often rapidly purchased, Floyd is always the victim to his 12am shopping whims).

Other than clothing, he's also quite fond of jewelry. He clasps pure pearls to your ears, drapes diamonds over your neck, and slips rings onto your fingers. It would be the highlight of Azul's day to see the items he had purchased for you proudly displayed for all the students on campus to see.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Shall we?" he asks softly as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up from your chair. The smooth white silk of your dress cascades off the plush leather seat, draping down to your ankles. Azul swiftly guides you away from the lounge, signaling at both Floyd and Jade in the corner to clean up before turning his attention back to you, once more. "I hope the food was to your liking, angelfish?"

"Oh, it was," you confirm, a smile playing on your lips. Leaning up, you press a warm kiss against his lips, one which he returns. "Thank you for the wonderful night, Azul! The dress as well. It looks beautiful."

"Why, of course." The octo-mer hums, running his hand up your back. As he slips both of you into his room, he shuts the door with his foot and guides you to his vanity. "Though I do have one last gift."

"Another?" You chuckle, "Don't you think you spoil me too much? I don't want it to seem like I'm leeching off of you…"

"No, you could never," Azul says as he motions you to a seat near the table of his vanity. The octo-mer reaches over and opens a drawer, revealing a nice velvet box.

As the box is opened, a gorgeous sea-glass necklace with a stunning silver-coral colour is exhibited to you. It sat prettily atop a white plush pillow, winking at you. Azul deftly runs a hand up your neck to pull your hair back and your lips parts in a "o" when he clasps it on.

"Azul," you breathlessly murmur. "I can't possibly—This must have cost a fortune."

"It's for you," Azul smiles. "Only for you."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰  JADE

You have scary eel privileges'

It was not uncommon for Jade to come knocking at your door in opportune times of the night to accompany you out for a walk. You mentioned once how you loved stargazing and Jade hasn't let that go since. For he too had always carried a fondness for the night, more specifically, the moon.

It was constant, a repetitive lustrous cycle, and despite his thrill seeking nature, he took comfort in its consistency. Walks with you were the highlight of his week, and he certainly does not take interruptions from pesky little bugs lightly.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

The night sky above Ramshackle was littered with painted specs of sparkling stars, burning brightly amidst the gradients of blue and black. Jade had a firm hand situated by the small of your back, gently guiding you along the dirt path of the trail.

"It's so beautiful…" You murmur in astonishment, craning your head up to peer up at the canvas of stars. Chuckling, Jade tugs you in closer to slip his large jacket over your shoulders. "I'm glad you like it, pearl. I do hope it's not too cold?"

"Not at all."

Both of you continue along your hike, going deeper and deeper into the thick, dense forest. As you trudged on, a bundle of wild mushrooms caught your eye and you halted to a stop, recognizing the patterns and spots on the fungi in a book Jade had once shown you.

"Wait here a moment. I just saw those mushrooms you wanted so bad. I'll go get it!" Before Jade could even reply, you were already off, sneaking past tall bushes and prickly trees. 

Just as you were about to pick your first mushroom, a low growl interrupts you. Freezing, your eyes dart upward to see a Savanaclaw student towering over your form. 

He did not seem happy.

"Oya? You're that Ramshackle punk, aren't you?…I have to say, Leona let you off real easy after that little spy mission you did in our dorm." He sneers, rolling the joints of his shoulders and moving closer, backing you up against a tree. "That's all good with me…Cuz' If he won't do something bout' it, then I will."

Suddenly, he was drawing his fist back, aiming for you. The sudden shift happened so quickly that all you could do was flinch and hunch over, preparing yourself for a hit.

Only for it to never come.

"My, my," a familiar voice muses. Breath hitching in your throat, you peek up and see Jade looming behind the boy. The eel's hand was coiled tight around the beastman's wrist, clasping tighter and tighter until there was a sickening snap. 

"How foolish of you to think I would allow that."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ FLOYD

You have scary eel privileges' #2

Floyd was a lot softer and caring than a lot of people would give him credit for. That or he just gives you special treatment. After all, the big bad eel found you endearing. You were his one and only beloved little shrimpy. 

You were the one who stood by him even when others dismissed him as strange or frightful because you loved and adored him wholeheartedly. So, he can't help but be protective of you.

Nothing will ever hurt you so long as he's by your side.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Shrimpy? What're you doing here?"

Sniffles and cries wreck your chest as you curled up on Floyd's bed, clutching his shrimp plush tight in your arms. Said eel was standing by the door, a look of shock plastered onto his features before it turned ice-cold as he approached your weeping form.

"My poor shrimpy…" Floyd rasps, tugging off his gloves to cup your wet cheeks with his big hands. "What's wrong with my shrimpy? Did someone do this? I'll squeeze 'em if they did."

The eel crawls into bed with you, tugging the plush out of your arms and slipping himself into your embrace. Soft warm kisses are peppered on your wet cheeks as Floyd coos at you.

Sobbing, you raise a hand to furiously wipe at your eyes before exclaiming, "It's Grim again! Why does he have to be so difficult?! I worked so hard for my alchemy exam, but it seems like he doesn't care! He's brought our grades down again!"

"It's that cat of yours again, huh?" Floyd clicked his tongue, thumb pressing against the corner of your teary eyes. He pressed a warm palm to your cheek, examining your face with close inspection as he slowly reached for your hand and set it down atop his beating heart. "No worries. Just let it all out, shrimpy. I'll have a talk with the baby seal later hehe~"

You sniffed and brushed his comments aside as you pulled away from the embrace, an action which made him pout. "…I'm not sure he'd even listen. Grim is as stubborn as a rock." 

"We'll see about that, shrimpy." Floyd scoffs, a frown on his face clearly visible as he pulls you closer once more.

"Yanno, I'm pretty good at alchemy myself." Floyd chirps, a dark grin slowly stretching across his cheeks. "I'm sure the baby seal won't mind having a private tutor session with good ol' me."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ ROOK

This man WORSHIPS the ground you walk on.

As they say, "Before you die, experience the love of a writer, poet or painter. If you're lucky enough to be an artist's muse, they will immortalize you." Such a muse you were to Rook.

Though it would take quite a lot of coaxing before he could have the pleasure of having you as his muse, at the rare moments you did agree—Rook did his utmost best to do you justice on the canvas.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

Portraiture looked into the life of the subject, revealed what was hidden deep inside, and examined it. With his hunter-like manner, Rook was all too acquainted with this study.

"A-Am I doing this right?" You murmur, trying your best not to move around as you held a bouquet of daisies up to your chest. There was a cream-tinted dress draped across your body as you reclined against the backdrop Rook had set up.

"Oui. Such beauty in your gaze, trickster. Angels lurk behind your eyes." The hunter flirts, resolute gazed locked onto your flustered ones as he drags his brush against the palette. There was an experiment with the hues for a time before he blended a few other colors.

"I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to do this." As he'd found the color he wanted, Rook turned back to you. He took careful note of every nuance and detail of your glowing visage and committed as much as he could to memory. Rook knew he’d have to make your portrait perfect. He simply couldn’t allow for anything else.

"You're very persistent," you huff with a small smile on your face. "I had to cave in eventually, huh?"

"But, of course!" Rook cheekily grins, turning his attention back to the canvas. "I can't let a chance like this pass me by."

Time passed and layers upon layers of color came together to form the picture he sought after. Out to the right, spread across a lush sofa, was your incandescent form. And he surely didn't hold back on the details. The creases in the fabric, the curve of your smile, and the contours of the plush pillows scattered on either side of the plush crimson sofa all draw the eye.

It was a large painting that he had boldly placed in Pomefiore's living room, much to Vil's chagrin. Try as he might, the dormleader couldn't get the hunter to remove it at all.

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ MALLEUS

Princess treatment? pff. That's cute. No, it's queen treatment to him.

You had a bad tendency of rambling on about whatever that came to mind, often without realising that another person was in the same room as you. Even if you initially didn't mind this little quirk of yours, recent events have made you realise that you should probably curb your mouth-running.

Even more so considering that your partner, caring as he was, had a tendency to be quite…impulsive. Especially when it comes to matters concerning your comfort and well-being.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

Malleus was flipping through a catalogue of colour samples and scrutinizing each texture with careful judgment. Slipping the page into your hands, he murmurs, "This is all rather lovely. Perhaps a dark crimson will suffice. Or would you like this wine red dye, my dear?" The dragon looked at you, patiently awaiting your response.

Only for there to be none.

You stood awkwardly at his side, your cheeks flaming up with shame. Tugging at his coat, you rose up on your tiptoes and whispered quietly, "Tsunotaro…when I whined about it being cold, I didn't mean for you to go this far."

"Oh?" He quirks a brow up, "Do you not like these colors?"

"Mal," you utter gently, handing the catalogue back to him. "I don't really think we need to—"

"Young Master. If I may," Sebek interrupts, voice raising to a strained high squeak, "Please do tell. Why are we replacing every.single marble floor in the dorm…with carpet?"

Malleus draws you in his arms, all while ignoring the enraged stare painted on Sebek's face. "My darling's feet become frigid cold when they walk along the marble flooring. I think it's due time for it to get redone," he says while running his hands tenderly up your back and gazing at you with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Sebek blinks, a strained smile sneaking up on his cheeks, "Well. I'm sure they can use slippers—"

"Nonsense." Malleus snarls, eyes flashing a luminous green. "How dare you even think of subjecting them to such a ludicrous act. Hmph. Using…slippers—How preposterous." 

"No. I think my way is much better." Shaking his head, Malleus turns back to the catalogue—paying no mind to the grief-stricken look on his retainer's face. "Now dearest, do you think burgundy would look good in the kitchen?"

───────────────────── · ·

—♰ SEBEK

Carries your sparkly pink purses for you, slay king<3

Sebek was not a fool. The fae was well aware he could be a bit…much at times. And even if he doesn't express it, he really values your nearly infinite patience with him. 

The boy was awkward at affection, and this is especially highlighted when it comes to anything involving romantic gestures. Even though your snappy crocodile was hard-headed and stubborn at times, he still showed you how much he cared in his own little ways. Even if it were something as simple as carrying your sparkly pink bag around the campus.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"You ought to have known better than to jest so lightly about Diasomnia that way!" Sebek barks out, a leather-clad finger digging deep into Ace's chest. However, as opposed to being upset as Sebek had anticipated, the ginger chortles, muffled giggles sneaking past his clamped up lips.

"Sebek, buddy." Ace wheezes out, shoulders shaking from the strain of his suppressed laughter. "It's kinda hard to take you seriously…wh-when you have that."

The Heartslabyul runt gestures towards your designer purse, which was snugly resting against Sebek's bicep, slung over his shoulder. 

It was quite the eye-catcher. The sparkling pink diamonds of its handle twinkled a bright brilliant white, so bright in fact that it was almost blinding. 

Epel takes notice of the logo and crocodile keychain attached to it and he perks up.

"Oh, it's one of those girly-lookin' designer bags Vil is always yappin' about," Epel points out, squinting his eyes to get a better look at it. "Ain't that the prefect's bag?"

Unfazed by Ace's mocking, Sebek scoffs arrogantly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Indeed, it is. As a knight-in-training, it is only right for me to possess the quality of a gentleman. Chivalrous acts like this are nothing to be ashamed of." He abruptly snapped his head over to glower at Ace, who was sitting rather comfortably in the cafeteria bench, crossing one leg over the over as he met Sebek's irritated stare. "Not that I anticipate someone like you to ever have experience with it.."

Sebek then rose from the table and strode boldly in the direction of your classroom, the pink bag swinging with each heavy step he took. Epel was leaning over the table, placing a shaky hand on Ace's shoulder as loud laughter racked through his body.

"Darn' right," Epel cackles, wiping the tears away from his eyes before turning to the ginger. "Nice ta' see someone still has sum chivalry…Unlike you, Ace."

The ginger visibly deflates, rolling his eyes as he mutters, "Yeah, yeah. We get it. He's down bad."

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[chibinasuu]

Hello! I saw your req’s were open >.< so I was wondering if I could ask for a zoro or Sanji x sleepy reader. Specifically where reader is constantly sleepy and NEEDS their naps or they will be cranky like a toddler XD sorry this is just exactly how I am and I think it’s kinda silly <3 thank youu && I love your work

asdjkdlakdj this is such a cute prompt!! thank you so much for the request! i know you said zoro or sanji, but i couldn’t decide so i just did both :) 

hope you enjoy <3

Much-needed Nap

Pairings: Zoro, Sanji x Reader (separate)  Tags: sfw, fluff, established relationship, GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

Zoro

“Zorooo,” You pouted from your perch on the bench of the crow’s nest, “How much longer are you going to take?” 

The swordsman in question was doing some push-ups effortlessly in the center of the room, “I literally just started warming up.”

“Oh, come on!” You went over and crouched beside him, poking the hard muscles of his bare back, “It’s nap time.”

He paused and looked at you incredulously, “You already took a nap right after lunch!”

“I can’t help it that I’m already sleepy again!” 

“Well, go take another nap then.” He said, continuing his reps, “I gotta finish this set.”

“But I wanna nap with you!” You whined as you belly-flopped onto his back without so much as a warning, your arms clinging to his neck, “Now, Zoro!”

Zoro, the monster that he is, didn’t even stumble and continued with his push-ups as if there was no added weight of another person’s whole body on top of his.

“Fifty more.” He compromised. “You can stay where you are. Hell, you can just nap like that if you want.”

After a few more reps, he chuckled, “This is actually great training – I could use the extra weight.”

You swatted the back of his head, and with an exaggerated gasp, you joked, “Are you saying I’m heavy?!”

His movement actually stuttered as he burst into laughter, “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you love me anyway.”

“That, I do.”

The motion of Zoro’s exercise had a similar effect on you as a rocking chair, and you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier. 

“...Forty-eight, forty-nine,” You vaguely registered Zoro counting, “Fifty!” 

He carefully lowered himself onto the mat and you rolled off him, “Ugh, finally.” 

Before Zoro could get up, you draped one of your legs and arms over him, trapping him to your side. 

Zoro laughed, “At least let me get dressed first.”

“No, don’t get up.” You snuggled closer to him, “I’m comfy.”

He squirmed to get you both into a more comfortable position. Now on his back with your head resting on his chest, he said, “Hm. Can’t believe I found someone who likes to nap more than me.”

“Seems like you met your match then.”

“Seems like I did.” He agreed.

It was dark when you were rudely awoken by Usopp’s shouts from below the mast, calling out that dinner was ready.

You sighed as you felt Zoro’s steady breathing, indicating that he was still fast asleep. You might be insufferable whenever you needed a nap, but your man was definitely more so whenever he needed to be woken up from his. 

As you gently shook him awake, his arm, which had snaked around your waist in his sleep, tightened even further. He buried his face into your neck and refused to open his eyes.

You let out another exhale. You could only hope that Luffy had not already inhaled all of the food by the time you two finally got to the dining room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sanji

“Hey,” Sanji called out, hands busy filling the kettle to make some tea for the two of you, “Do you want the blue mug or the yellow one?”

You were seated on the dining chair, your body slumped forward onto the table, arms pillowing your heavy head. It had only been a couple of hours since you woke up from your last nap, yet you could barely keep your eyes open now. 

The rain pattered on, the faint sound of it hitting the deck outside and the window of the dining room only added to your drowsiness. 

You had heard Sanji talking to you, but in your half-asleep state, you couldn’t find the energy to give him an answer. 

Sanji, still facing the stove, repeated the question in a slightly louder voice, thinking you hadn’t heard him. 

“I don’t care, Sanji!” You snapped as you put your forehead down on the table and closed your eyes.

Sanji paused, before immediately turning off the stove and putting away the mugs. Tea time could wait, he thought, but first, he needed to take care of his beloved. 

He walked to where you sat and touched your back gently to get your attention.

You lifted your head and looked up at him, about to open your mouth to apologize for your ill temper, but he already had a knowing smile on his face.

“Come on,” he said, offering his hand, “It's time for your nap, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed as you took his outstretched hand, “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Sanji only chuckled while he pulled you to your feet, “I know. You’re just tired, aren’t you?”

He led you to the plush couch on the other side of the kitchen, then sat down and patted his lap. 

You curled up on the couch, placing your head on his lap as you’d done countless times before. The cook’s delicate fingers automatically went to your hair, his gentle strokes slowly lulling you to sleep. 

“The blue one,” you mumbled sleepily, causing Sanji to reply with a confused “Huh?”

“I’d like the blue mug, please.”

Sanji smiled in amusement, “Sure thing, dear. We’ll get the tea brewing once you’re up from your nap.”

He touched his fingertips gently to his lips, then to your forehead, before returning them to your hair, “For now, sleep.”

You obliged, falling into a peaceful slumber, as you always do with him around.

a/n: FYI, i'm currently holding a cozy holiday drabble event so please join and send in your requests if you're interested!! check out the details here <3

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