#so like you can have both in the same show

[phantomrose96]

When people join self-improvement or even hobbyist communities, there are some absolutely critical skills of fundamental skepticism they need when going in. I think most people who get into these communities aren't aware of these.

And just, as a fundamental few:

Does this person stand to gain financially from the thing they're trying to sell you on?

Is the business model of this whole community one of artificial competitiveness? Is there a pressure around never lapsing, or never straying from the model being sold to you?

Are the claims made in this community becoming bolder and bolder deviations from standard information?

These are absolutely rife in fitness, nutrition, and financial-advice communities and they often receive very little scrutiny except among those who already "got out." Because from the outside, seeing someone get into fitness is a good thing, good for them, glad to see it, look at that dedication, happy for them. Same on the other categories, and probably numerous others I haven't seen.

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Does this person stand to gain financially from the thing they're trying to sell you on?

If the answer is yes, that does NOT mean "immediately abort", it means keep that in mind when you're interacting with their content.

This nutrition influencer has given you some great recipes for free, and now they're promoting a "really fantastic" brand that they have an affiliate link with? Their motivation isn't to be your friend and helpfully clue you in on a great product. It's to make money off you.

You really like this fitness influencer's work outs, but she gets MORE interaction and MORE viewers the skinnier she gets? She CLAIMS she's been losing weight naturally with healthy eating and exercise, and she's still full of energy, and You Can Too. This is not your friend. This is not someone who knows you. This is someone under large financial and social pressure to do everything she can to put out her best appearance and her happiest appearance, and your attention and belief in the appearance is where the money and clout come from. You really need to remember this in the same way you remember to look both ways before crossing the street. You can cross a street and you can follow a fitness account, but protect yourself when doing it.

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Is the business model of this whole community one of artificial competitiveness? Is there a pressure around never lapsing, or never straying from the model being sold to you?

Communities stay strong if they retain people. There are a lot of fine and positive ways to retain people, but it's often easier to retain people by instilling them with a sense that they must be here. They should feel bad if they lapse or if their attention drifts. What they were before was inadequate. Everyone outside this community is inadequate. Do you want to go back to inadequate?

Is that financial subreddit that taught you valuable lessons about 401k's, index funds, and budgeting also quietly pressuring you to always do more? Are the top posts from extremist examples of people living in destitution so they can show the most extreme screenshot, and curate the envy of everyone else who ought to be ashamed of not doing as well as them?

Is that fitness community that got you into jogging also putting you in the mind that the truest and best people exercise 7 days a week? Never miss a metric? Never compromise on their dedication?

Is that person who "cut out all sugar and feels amazing" informing you that you should never have another cupcake in your life? And if you DO it's because you're BAD and DON'T WORRY, you'll get RIGHT back on the horse after. Shame will motivate you to come right back, and stay with the community, and never leave.

As long as you stay, the community grows. As long as you stay, the ad sponsors and the endorsed products and the influencers can benefit more and more. And sometimes, there's perhaps not even a malicious force behind it. It can happen from evolutionary pressures. The communities that survive are the ones that retain people. A community that trips accidentally into a model of pressuring people to stay is one which retains people and thrives.

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Are the claims made in this community becoming bolder and bolder deviations from standard information?

You joined because you wanted to learn to cook for yourself. And this community has been helpful! You know how to make some delicious things. You've tried vegetables you've never tried before. And maybe you needed some convincing that brussel sprouts can be yummy, but what do you know, turns out you like them roasted.

But what else is being said? What things are being said with more and more frequency? Is it that "humans don't actually need any sugar, and it's a poison being sold to us?" Is it that "seed oils are toxic for you"? Is it that "pasteurization is bad"? Is the raw fruitarian convincing you that cavemen lived exclusively off fruit and you can too?

They'll have sources sometimes. Check them. Are they cherry-picked? Are they from an insular echo-chamber? Why isn't the mainstream literature aware of this? And if the answer has anything to do with "because mainstream wants to TRICK YOU and you're actually BAD for ASKING" then don't engage. Disregard. Take the recipes if you must but apply your skeptical filter to all the parts that are snake oil.

Sometimes it's that another community is only a stone's throw away. That person with a great financial portfolio has only good things to say about crypto, and what they're saying is making sense (average person [not smart] [poor] [bad money skills] laughs at crypto, but you're smarter. you're on the in-track). That amazing bodybuilder is pulling the hottest dates, and he says it's about male-confidence, and he says there are good support guides on becoming a respectable masculine man, and all you need to do is reclaim your masculinity in a society that wants to steal it from you.

In any place like this, come up for air. Come up for air FREQUENTLY. Talk to regular people and engage in academic literature outside this circle. Conspiracy thinking wins if you draw all your information from the entity trying to sell you on the conspiracy.

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And I hope this is clear but my message is not "never join a community." My message is know danger when you see it. Recognize when you're being used or pressured. Don't fall for conspiracy thinking. Protect yourself. You can use a gas stove to cook meals but don't touch the flame and don't burn your house down. You can cross the street but recognize the signs of a car coming down the street.

And I'm making this point because so many people just don't know. ...Because getting into fitness is "good" and "self-improvement"! So is nutrition. So if financial responsibility. People walk into it and the extremism can make them feel accomplished, and admired, and like they're a part of something, and maybe even like a proper self-punishment for their own inadequacies. And people on the outside won't save you because "Wow! He spends 3 hours at the gym every day! I wish I was that dedicated." is a common attitude, and will push you deeper into what has its claws in you.

Everything I'm saying is not because I'm so much smarter and so much holier-than-thou for knowing this when others don't--I'm saying this because I was in it. I fell for it. Not all the examples above, of course. But I recognize the machine in them. It is highly appealing to run farther and fast longer and overload your class schedule when you don't feel good enough and want to prove something, and so many communities will sell you on the idea this IS an accomplishment. Then once you do, you have to do it forever. Or else you'll go back to not being good enough. And since fitness is "good", and weight-loss and good grades, no one can save you but you.

The answer was not to give up on the hobbies I was doing. I cook for myself most nights. I run and bike as regular parts of my routine. I like new recipes and I like half-marathons. But these are just positive additions to my life and they do not define my worth. If I miss a work-out it's whatever. If I order take-out it's whatever. I fundamentally do not care about the influencer with the washboard abs, and if I try a work-out from her, I have no loyalty to it. If the new recipe I try mentions "clean eating" I'll roll my eyes and just figure out if the recipe seems good. If the recipe is botching itself to avoid certain scare-words I will simply find something else.

There is absolutely a reasonable place for challenging yourself and trying things outside your comfort zone. The internet is full of resources to do so much more than you currently know how to do. And if that community is an oven, recognize it's an oven. Wear oven mitts. If it's actively on fire, leave. You're the only one protecting you. Stay safe.

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ teddy’s notes: some cute things about bakugou and his loser girlfriend reader!! these are very much random and just something that made me feel all warm inside <33

bakugou, who gently nudges you to move onto the sidewalk when cars go by and has to hide his fond smile when you give him a satisfied grin and point out how you’re now taller than him, which he ruins by stepping up to the sidewalk and staring you down easily. your shoulders slump and you grumble curses at him while he smirks and pulls you in with the heavy weight of his arm on top of your head.

bakugou, who acts like he would rather be anywhere rather than shopping with you, but still continues judging your taste and choosing things that fit better. and since you like him so much you tend to listen to his opinions very attentively which turns the tips of his ears red and makes him lose the chain of thoughts building in his head. however, nothing shows in his face, his pleased little smirk being the only indicator of what he’s feeling.

bakugou, who forces you to study with him because you like to procrastinate and do everything right before the deadline and he absolutely despises it. it amazes him how inattentive you are sometimes; staring off into the wall whilst chewing on your pen, humming a song under your breath, sneakily typing away in your phone — he can’t help but yell at you, feeling like he’s dealing with a kid. when your lower lip juts out slightly, trembling and pouty, and you start sniffling, bakugou rolls his eyes and tugs you closer to sit in his lap while he does his homework, mumbling about how much of a crybaby you are and to at least attempt to listen to him. “sorry, ‘tsuki, i’ll do my best” you peck his cheek and stare down at his notebook, and bakugou shakes his head, wondering why he even tries. (bc he loves you).

bakugou, who has no fucking clue what to do when you first kiss. his room is dark and the movie playing in the background is long forgotten because you’ve been staring at him for 10 minutes now and he’s been pretending not to notice your staring for 9 minutes. at some point, you lean in and bashfully peck the corner of his mouth, and when he pulls back with a loud “what the hell was that, loser?” you run away from his room with a quick “nothing! bye!”, nearly falling face first onto his carpet.

bakugou, who doesn’t mind it if you hold onto him when you two are walking. his hands are in his pockets usually, but he does go out of his way to offer you his arm or just tell you to hold onto him however you’d like. linking your pinkie with his, gripping his sleeve or the hem of whatever he is wearing; he especially loves it when you grab his arm with both hands and press yourself closer, rambling on and on about whatever topic is on your precious mind.

bakugou, who actually likes your quirk and admires the way you use it. even if it’s not super compatible with his, bakugou will find a way to make it useful for him and have you in the same team as him because he feels like he can also protect you if something happens. katsuki also secretly drools over your hero costume because it sits very prettily on your figure, and when you catch him staring both of you turn into flustered messes.

[soft-beams]

you and me (let's make something great)

author's note: so i had an idea, and originally, it was gonna be a ficlet mainly focused on debauchery. BUT THEN my brain decided to turn it into something longer with plot, so here we are. it's very soft in the first bit but don't be fooled, it gets filthy as it progresses. please enjoy!

cw: gp!vi, afab!reader, pregnancy talk, breeding kink, dirty talk, nsfw 🔞 (primarily in the second part)

wc: 3.3k

dividers: @/cafekitsune

part i: let's talk about it

There’s always been talk of starting a family.

Kids with the white picket fence and a garden large enough for them to run around. Maybe a dog or two and a cat because you’ve always spoken about how much you want one. It’d be everything that’s so simple and expected of a family, something so ordinary that it’s almost laughable. But you and Vi never had the opportunity to experience what the ordinary family is.

She grew up an orphan with only her sister by her side, only able to survive due to Vander’s kindness.

You had your own set of problems; a family that didn’t listen or could listen but choose not to.

So to have a family where you can give your children the life you weren’t able to have, that means the whole world and more.

Vi toys around with the idea of asking you again, about the possibility of starting your family as soon as possible. You’ve been together for ten years and married for two, and life has never been as perfect as this.

You’re both doing well at work, bills are being paid on time and there’s even some savings in your joint account. Even savings to potentially look into starting something if that is what you want.

You’re swaying around the kitchen, speakers blasting your playlist as you cook up dinner for tonight. You’ve settled on a simple pasta dish, warm and spicy with delicious herbs. The sauce is bubbling away on the stove and your hips follow the stir of your wooden spoon. You bring the spoon up to your lips, blow gently before having a taste. A hum leaves your lips as your eyes flutter shut, pleased with what you’re creating.

Vi’s enchanted by you and one might call her silly, to be captivated by you merely making dinner. But it’s the mere act of it, the domesticity of it all and how you show your love through everything you do. Even if it’s cooking a dish that you’ve both eaten a hundred times before.

That’s what being in love is and Vi is greedy to share that with someone who’s both her and you.

“Taste this for me?” You ask, facing where she’s sat at the kitchen island. Vi’s quick to hop off her stool and make her way towards you. Her arms encircle you the moment she gets close and your smile brightens at the touch. You lift the spoon up to her lips and even though she knows it’s delicious, Vi goes in for a taste. She mimics your pleased hum from before, swaying you to the slow beat of the song that now plays.

“Babe, you crush it every time,” Vi reveres, causing you to roll your eyes fondly. “How do you do it? Were you a famous chef in your past life or what?”

“It’s pasta sauce,” you respond, voice deadpan but expression vibrant. “The same pasta sauce we’ve been making for five years and can make with our eyes closed.” You turn around in her arms so you can attend to the sauce, Vi taking this opportunity to latch onto your back. She nuzzles into the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss into the sensitive spot there just so she can feel you shiver. “It’s hardly Michelin star worthy.” You pause. “Wait, can dishes be given Michelin stars?”

“Fuck if I know,” Vi murmurs, hooking her chin over your shoulder and settling in. From here, she can see a pot full of water boiling for pasta and the sauce thickening nicely in its pan. “So I want to talk to you about something.”

“We can’t go to the water park next week,” you say, amused. “We’ve had this discussion like six times and as much as I would like to go and hit the wave pool, there’s no—”

The laughter that bursts out of Vi’s mouth is enough to hurt her chest. But it doesn’t stop her from cackling, burying her head into your shoulder in an attempt to muffle how loud she is. She can feel the shaking of your body and hear your lovely laughter as you join her, fully leaning into her chest for support.

“No, you idiot,” Vi manages to say through her chuckles. “Oh fuck you, this was supposed to be a serious thing.”

“Why do you think I said what I said?” You retort playfully and Vi falls even more in love with you, as if that’s even possible. “But tell me what’s on your mind, baby. What’s going on?”

Vi takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second to gather herself. When she opens them, you’re turning off the burner for the sauce and reaching for the fettuccine to the side. Just as you’re pouring the pasta into the bubbling water, Vi’s thoughts spill out.

“I want to have a family with you.”

You go still for a moment, your arms poised above the boiling water with the empty pasta box in your hands. Vi’s unable to see your face but she isn’t necessarily worried about your reaction. It’s a conversation that you’ve had multiple times over the span of your relationship, but today is where you start taking steps towards putting it in action.

“Well, yes,” you start, placing the pasta box back on the counter. Then you’re turning in her arms so you’re facing each other again, your eyes peering into hers. “We’ve spoken countless times about this.” You smooth your hands over the rounds of her shoulders, your face soft. “I’m still very much onboard with this because I want to have a family with you too. But I’m guessing you want to talk about a timeline.”

Vi nods, momentarily speechless because you always just get her, even without her having to say anything. She pulls you away from the stove to sit you on one of the kitchen island’s stools. She notes how you eye the pasta and makes a mental note to attend to the pot after five minutes.

“We always did say that we’d really start considering it once we’ve gotten our lives sorted,” Vi says, standing between your thighs. “And I’d say that our lives are pretty solid. We’re no longer in debt and we’ve got a decent amount saved away.” Her fingers play with your hair, causing you to lean into her touch. “So I thought that now would be a good time to try.” Vi then shakes her head. “Obviously, it’s your choice because it’s your body and I’d never want to pressure you into doing anything because of me and—”

Vi doesn’t notice she’s rambling until you’re pressing your finger against her lips, fond amusement colouring your features.

“I married a good woman,” you say, so tender that Vi feels her heart swell so much that it hurts. It presses against her ribs, pushes up on her lungs making her breathless. It makes her cling to you, hiding her head into the curve of your shoulder. Your hands come around to run soothingly down her back and she melts. “I know it's my choice, baby. You've never made me feel like it wasn't.”

Despite Vi knowing that, the relief that hits her is cool and instant. It's always nice to hear that she isn't pressuring you; that she's allowing you to make your own choices regardless of what she wants.

“I've always wanted to have children with you,” you continue, still running soothing patterns down her back. “That's something that has never changed and probably never will.” You then lean back and Vi's graced with the excitement in your beautiful eyes. “I imagine a little kid who's a mixture of me and you. Maybe my hair and your eyes or vice versa.”

“I hope they get your personality,” Vi says softly. “That they get your kindness and empathy. Your patience and wisdom.”

You laugh quietly, closing your eyes to hide from the blinding of Vi's earnest gaze. You're embarrassed, she can tell, and that makes this moment all the sweeter.

“Well, I hope they get your strength and conviction,” you reply, tilting your head up so the tip of your nose catches the softness of Vi's cheek. “That they get your loyalty and ambition. Your sympathy and empathy.”

Vi's cheeks burn at the compliments you dress her in. Compliments that you would call truths because that's how you see her. Even under all the mess and mistakes, you see the diamonds that rest beneath the dirt.

She'll never understand why someone as special as you forever wants to be with her.

“So…what are you thinking?” Vi asks, eager to see where your head’s at. She watches as you purse your lips with a hum, eyes rolling upwards to stare at the ceiling in thought. Then you’re looking back at her with a smile and that’s how Vi finds her answer.

“Really?” Vi has to double check, to be sure that you’re both on the same page; that this is what you want to do from this moment.

“I’ve been wanting to suggest it for a while but—Violet!” You exclaim out of surprise, laughter startled from you when Vi pulls you in for a tight hug. But your arms are wrapping around her instantly, holding on with a solid grip.

“Thank you,” Vi whispers into your neck, planting a delicate kiss over your pulse. “Thank you so much.”

“No need to thank me,” you say quietly, returning the kiss to the curve of her ear. “I want this too.”

Vi nods and gives you a firm squeeze before pulling away, but not too far so she can still keep you in her arms. She’s so overwhelmed; there’s so much she wants to say but all of it is tied at the back of her throat. The words aren’t coherent but they have meaning and Vi will try all she can to convey how precious that meaning is.

“Okay so,” you begin after you both sit in relaxed silence for a while. “I love you so much and you’re my everything but if that pasta’s mushy, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You lie,” Vi replies, nuzzling at your cheek. “You love me too much to hate me.”

“But I love pasta more,” you tease, your soft laughs muted by the gentle press of Vi’s lips against yours.

The pasta has gone soft but you don’t seem to mind, all too distracted by Vi's sweet kisses.

“So you’re officially trying for kids now?”” Jinx says one afternoon in the small cafe they often frequent. It's raining outside and there's a chill in the air that seeps into your bones and makes you want to stay in bed. That's where Vi wishes she was now, all curled up underneath the sheets with you.

“Yeah, we had a proper talk about it a few days ago,” Vi says. “Not that all the other talks weren't proper but our plans didn't have a start date.” She swirls the remaining dregs of coffee in her mug. “Now we're both ready and soon there's gonna be a kid in the picture.”

Jinx hums, taking a sip of whatever iced concoction she's gotten today. “I mean, it's a big thing,” she says around her straw. “Bringing a small human into the world. Plus babies are kinda gross with their uncontrollable bowel movements.” Her nose scrunches up. “Not to mention the crying and screaming and inability to talk for the first two years.”

Vi shrugs. “Yeah, but I don't give a shit about any of that.”

“Well, duh. Because you're with someone who's gonna make it worthwhile,” Jinx replies matter-of-factly. “It's kind of like being in love with the person of your dreams makes you more tolerable to things. Shocker.”

“You're already falling into your Cynical Aunt role.” Vi says, deadpan but smiles when Jinx chuckles.

“Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna love the shit out of that little goober,” Jinx says strongly. “Gonna be the best auntie in the world. Much better than Caitlyn or Mel, that's for sure.”

Vi makes a doubtful expression, an eyebrow raised, and raises her hands to placate when Jinx aims her butter knife at her.

“No, you'll be great,” Vi tells her and despite their jokes, she means it. She sees how Jinx is with kids; how she may not seem interested at first but then slowly opens up. Not to say that she connects with every child but when Jinx cares, she cares with her entire heart. So Vi knows that her children will be loved.

Jinx eyes her and takes another sip of her drink before saying, “There's something on your mind.”

Vi huffs. “How can you tell?”

“I'm your sister, we grew up together,” Jinx lists off. “I mean, ignore the fact that we didn't talk for seven years but I know you.” She finishes off her glass and pushes it to the side. “What's going on?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Vi chuckles, running a hand through her hair, before leaning back in her seat.

“I just…worry that I may not be a good parent.” She confesses after a moment.

“Why?” Jinx asks straight away, not giving Vi the time to wallow too deeply.

“Because…I mean, look what happened with us,” Vi says, gesturing between them. “I left you alone for seven years over a misunderstanding that took ages to fix. I was supposed to be there for you when our parents died. When Vander died and I…” Vi stops for a second, a heavy knot in her throat. “...I wasn't there and I'm just scared that I'm gonna fuck all of this up.”

Jinx stares at her for a bit, her expression unreadable, before she gives a big eye roll.

“You're so stupid,” she says loudly.

“Gee thanks.” Vi replies.

“You're so stupid because I don't think you realise how good of a big sister you were,” Jinx continues. “How good of a big sister you are. Life sucked for us for a long time, Vi. Especially after our parents and Vander died. Then the hits kept on coming and we had no say in how we survived for a long time. Yes, we got separated and yes, it made me so fucking mad at you, but you came back for me.” She takes a deep breath. “If we could redo the past, we would. But we can't. But things have been fixed and you've shown me time and time how capable you are.” She then laughs. “I mean, you've been in a committed relationship for twelve years, Vi. Most people don't last up to the five month mark.”

Vi tries to ignore the sting behind her eyes, the tears that slowly blur her vision.

“Plus you guys are totally in love,” Jinx says, a slight smile curving her lips. “It's absolutely nauseating but it's also kinda beautiful. You'll make a really good parent, Vi. You got the best of mom and our dads. And your partner kicks ass and is one of the best people I've ever met so…” Jinx shrugs. “Your children are gonna be so lucky to have you two as parents.”

There’s then a lull that falls between them and Vi's trying so hard not to cry. So she swallows back the knot in her throat, chasing it away with her last bit of coffee.

“Saying all of that must have driven you nuts,” Vi jokes weakly, reaching out to give Jinx's hand a grateful squeeze.

“Yeah, I feel gross and need to take a shower,” Jinx jokes in return, weak too and she squeezes Vi's hand just as tight. “Consider that your birthday and Christmas gift.”

Vi laughs loudly, eyes crinkling and mouth wide with the joy she feels.

“Fair enough.” She concedes, knowing damn well Jinx will surprise her with a homemade gift regardless.

“...So, gonna go home and blast your baby batter into—?”

“Jinx.”

A week or two pass after those conversations are held. Life maintains its norm, leaving you and Vi to continue your existence in its blissful way. It's comforting as it is confusing, because Vi knows that everything’s on the table now. Left wide open for the both of you to bask at.

Vi waits for your move, watches you with a keen eye as you drift throughout the days. She cooks the both of you dinner every other night, picks you up from work every day without fail and holds you close at night so you fall asleep. She does what she knows to do, does it because it has that essence of normalcy.

But that doesn't stop the urges from arising. It doesn't halt the need that bubbles in her stomach every time she sees you. It's overpowering, overwhelmingly so, and Vi fails to understand it until one late evening.

You're curled up beneath Vi’s arm as a movie plays on the television. It's a standard comedy, nothing utterly hilarious but enough to pull a few chuckles from both of you. Vi has hit optimal relaxation, all loose and soft due to you being so close. She can smell the scent of your body wash, drops her face into your hair so she can inhale what lies there. Your shampoo and something so uniquely you.

Her focus has since shifted from the movie, all of it on you as she notes how you’re barely paying attention to the screen. You’ve got this faraway look in your eyes, seemingly lost in thought and Vi wonders what's going through that pretty head of yours.

Then you do something unexpected; you shift a hand towards your stomach and…gently rub at it. The arc of your hand graceful as you follow the slope of your covered flesh. It looks soothing, similar to how you rub Vi's muscles on the days the flare-up of old injuries is too much. But it's also different and Vi's quick to notice it; she sees how your hand comes to lay at your lower stomach and—

Oh.

Vi's suddenly feeling a bit flustered.

A minute goes by, slowly ticking, and Vi tries not to give herself away. She tries not to reveal how the simple act of you rubbing your stomach has her heating up. How she's instantly imagining your stomach round with her child and the way your hand would look caressing the bump.

So tender, so gentle.

Something hot within Vi stirs, causing her to grow a bit restless. The movie captures her attention for a bit, but it hardly does much. Especially when you're pressed into her, still rubbing at your stomach and fuck, her sweatpants feel a little tight.

Because it isn't only about your stomach growing with life inside you. It's also about the transformation you'll grow through. How you'll get softer, how your scent will become a little milkier. How your breasts will swell in preparation and how you'd be a stunning image of how you belong to.

Vi.

Because it's Vi who'll do that to you; it's her who will fuck you full until you can't take anymore. It's Vi who will come and come and come in you until it takes and she sees the fruits of her labour.

It's her who'll…who'll breed you until you’re tongue's tied and your body's a wreck.

So beautiful and pilant and hers.

“...Vi?” Your voice calls her home, like a siren's song, and she's retrieved from her debauched thoughts. “Vi, sweetheart, the movie's done.”

Vi blinks at the television, the credits rolling down the dark screen. How long had she been spacing out for.

“Oh,” she says lamely and you chuckle, standing up from the couch. You tug at her arm, smiling tiredly, as you tilt your body towards the bedroom.

“I'm sleepy,” you say, giving one more tug before Vi’s standing on her feet. “Let's go to bed, we've got work in the morning.”

“Uh huh,” is all Vi can manage as she allows you to lead her to your bedroom.

Something new has clicked in her brain.

Something deep and primal at its core.

...She cannot talk to Jinx about this.

[lidiasloca]

hello!! I was wondering if you could write an azriel x reader fic where they've been best friends for centuries and one day the bond snapped for her. And she starts to avoid him because she thinks he doesn't love her so she doesn't show up to things they usually do together and whatnot (or however you want to put it!) but meanwhile Azriel is going crazy because he misses her and has been in love with her for years and then he confronts her and the bond snaps for him as well!! sorry if it's too long hahah but thanks

is it chill that you are in my head?

azriel x reader

friends to lovers

It was curious to think that no matter the strength you applied, no hit you made would ever hurt Azriel.

Yet, the Illyrian seemed intensely determined not to let you get to even touch him.

“Where’s your mind?” he asked as he dodged yet another hit. You took, at least, a bit of pride in his breathless voice.

You also took pride in how much you had made him sweat already, but you didn’t let your thoughts linger there too much—your eyes, neither.

“In trying to hit you.”

“Well, isn’t it frustrating you won’t satisfy your mind?”

“You get cocky—I’ll hit you down there,” you threatened, taking in his amused grin.

“There you can get?” he questioned as he circled you.

You held your fists up, following his eyes as he eyed you like a vulture. “You don’t want to find out.”

“I don’t,” he replied, just as you went to hit him.

He dodged it effortlessly.

And even had time, as you retracted your arm, to take it and pull you toward him, unbalancing you until you fell onto his torso.

As he prevented you from the fall he himself had caused, you found yourself close enough to his body to make out the intention written on his face.

A threat for a threat, you realized as you stared at those deep hazel eyes.

His face lacked any sympathy as he spoke, his voice death and sensuality all in the same honeyed spoon. “Don’t make threats you cannot back up, love.”

Your breath caught at the darkness that surrounded you. The darkness that you faced when you had his lips so close to yours, his eyes so focused on you.

Azriel was that: darkness. Both the dark that scared you as a child and the dark that now let you dream of him without guilt in the depths of the night.

“You’re right. No more threats,” you breathed as you drove your knee upward—

His hand was steel against the futile force of your movement. And a mocking grin on his lips was all you could think about due to the roaring in your ears.

Bastard.

The knee you were going to use to teach him a lesson was held in place with his right hand, which now moved down, and down until it found a place on the back of your thigh. He urged you nearer him.

Close enough. Until your surroundings vanished and you could only see his face, his never-faltering smirk when you made it so easy for him to mock you.

This was the Azriel you had only for yourself.

Not polite shyness, or quiet kindness.

But darkness.

All of it—all of him. Darkness.

Everything, but his eyes.

While you liked to have this flirtatious, dangerous Azriel—which you both called friendship—you still found yourself fantasizing about the light in his eyes and how soft they were, how romantic and intimate, and everything that he shouldn’t feel like.

Where all of him was dark, his eyes were golden.

Lightness.

Like a thread that led you through deeper parts of him, of his soul.

Too intimate.

You let out a long exhale. “I’m not in the mood,” you mumbled.

And it broke your heart the way he immediately released you. How gently he let go of you as a flash of… pain painted his eyes.

Then it was gone in a blink. And that smirk found its way to his face again. “I make you exhausted quite fast.”

“Mhmm,” was all you could mutter as you watched him—those eyes.

That thread.

What was that?

He held your stare with a bit of confused amusement. “What do you find so interesting?” he smiled.

You took all your bravery… and a step, and another, until you were back where you started: looking deep into his eyes, close enough to feel his breath on your face.

He didn’t dodge this time. And neither did he smirk as you placed both of your hands on his face to make him meet your eyes.

Those golden eyes.

There was something in them.

That lightness that guided you through the darkness—his darkness.

As a thread.

A gasp broke through you at the realization, at the feeling in your heart—your soul.

You took a step back, your hands sliding away from his face as gently as a wind’s whisper.

He eyed you worriedly, taking a step toward you as you kept walking away.

“What?” he asked, finally that mask off his face.

But you couldn’t bear the sight of his eyes again. The feel of that thread.

M-

“What is it?” he asked, desperation lacing his words.

Ma…

“Y/N?” he pleaded.

Mate.

You winnowed away before he could pronounce another word.

…

You knew hiding was not the solution. You knew you would have to face him eventually—he was one of your closest friends after all, yet…

“I cannot do it. I cannot see him.”

Another of your closest friends was there to make you think logically.

“Y/N,” Nesta said, taking a seat on the couch in your bedroom. “You’ve been hiding here for almost a month. You can’t hide from him forever. He’s your—”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, despite how stupidly childish it made you sound.

Nesta exhaled as if indeed, you were acting stupidly childish. “Mate? You cannot hear the word mate?”

There was a tinge of mocking in her tone that made you meet her eyes with fury in yours. “It’s very easy to look at me and judge me when you don’t know what this feels like.”

“What? Having an Illyrian as my mate?” she asked with a soft smile on her lips, and you knew your friend well—you knew it wasn’t mocking anymore.

Nesta, as if to prove you right, walked toward where you sat on the bed and made herself a place next to you, moving her hand to caress yours like a mother would.

She didn’t say anything, though, so you replied, emotion running your words slowly—unsteady. “You don’t know what it’s like to know your mate… doesn’t want you back.”

“You don’t know if Azriel doesn’t want you back.”

“Yes, I do. I know Azriel.”

“Well, I know him as well. And I know—actually—all the house, and probably all Velaris, knows he likes you. A lot.”

You shook your head.

Nesta went on, “He flirts with you all the time, Y/N. In all honesty, it was about damned time that bond snapped for one of you. It was clear you had something.”

“Exactly: something,” you rectified. “That something, Nesta, is flirting. Flir-ting. Nothing more, nothing else. That’s all he wants from me. Taunting and touching and provoking and friendship. But not love. And most certainly, not a damn mating bond.” You took a staggered breath, not able to meet her eyes anymore. “Not with me.”

Nesta watched you silently, then said, “You don’t know that.”

You shook your head, wiping a tear that slid down your face. “You don’t know either.”

“That’s true,” she replied, handing you a tissue with her free hand as the other drew circles on your wrist. “We won’t know until you ask him.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “So, I just ask him if he wants the mating bond with me? That simple? Thanks, Nesta.”

Her eyes narrowed at you in warning to watch your tone, yet her faint smirk provoked one to bloom on your face. “Yes. It’s that simple.”

“And when he says no?”

She shook her head. “What if he says no,” she corrected you.

Your smile grew just a bit. “What if he says no?” you echoed.

“Then I’ll beat his ass on the training ground. And have Cassian beat him afterward.”

You chuckled lightly, imagining the scene.

But the question appeared in your mind, and you took the courage to ask her.

“And what if he says yes?”

By the warm look in her eyes, you knew she had understood. “It’s a long way to go. But one finally learns to let herself be loved, Y/N.”

And by one, you knew who she meant.

You were grateful that afterward, Nesta and you had a more lighthearted conversation. And when it turned dark outside, Nesta gave you a hug and left your bedroom.

You knew you had to also leave your bedroom at some point and face what awaited outside that comfort.

But love seemed to find you just where you thought you were safe.

“Can I come in?”

It certainly wasn’t Nesta’s voice.

Your hand trembled as you went for the knob and opened the door.

“Can I come in?” Azriel repeated, and you realized long seconds had passed of just you staring, unmoving.

“Yes,” you whispered, letting him through and closing the door.

You had prayed he stayed like that—backward to you, staring outside your window. Anything but have his eyes meet yours.

But he turned to you.

He was even more beautiful than ever, even if you couldn’t help but notice the dark circles around his eyes, his pale lips, or his eyes… almost lifeless.

Like the light had deserted him.

Like the bond had abandoned him… because he didn’t want it.

“It’s been weeks,” he eventually said, and his voice carried enough emotion you had to lean on the door, afraid to crumble to the ground. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“I’ve been busy.”

He took a step closer to you, making you meet his eyes again. “With what?” he demanded.

You weren’t fast enough to make up a lie before he said, “You’ve been avoiding me.” It wasn’t quite a question. “You are mad at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” he muttered, taking another step.

“I’m not, Azriel.”

He stopped his following step at the sound of his name. He looked like he had been slapped, and his face morphed into something unreadable.

“I’m sorry," he murmured.

“What?” you asked, walking towards him when he looked down.

You had to see his face, you had to understand him.

“Whatever I have done. I’m sorry. Forgive me and… be my friend again.”

You stopped in your tracks, not having quite reached him. Friends.

His words both broke and healed your heart. The desperation in them, the vulnerability.

You stared at the selfless male who cherished your friendship in front of you. Maybe you could take that and give up dreaming. Maybe you could convince yourself that friendship was better than nothing, even if it killed you.

“I miss you,” he said, and you decided that was the final blow.

A sob broke through you, raw and desperate, and his expression shifted instantly. He closed the distanced and his hands found your face, those scarred palms trembling as they cupped your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “Don’t cry, please. I’m sorry.”

Friends.

Mates.

“What are you even sorry for?” you mumbled, shaking your head faintly.

“The last time I saw you - when you got… mad at me, we were doing what we always do. Well, what I always do. That stupid flirting, that… you know. And I know that bothered you. And I’m sorry. I never knew it made you uncomfortable before and… I’m sorry,” he said again. 

You quietly stared at him, at the sadness and guilt in his eyes. “It’s not that it bothers me...” you said because it never had, but maybe now—maybe now it hurt your feelings - but that was because of you. It was not his fault. 

Yet you couldn’t speak your thoughts before he went on. “It does. I saw it in your eyes… like you were disgusted.” His voice cracked. “And it broke my heart, because… I don’t want it either.”

There it was.

The truth you’d been bracing yourself for.

Friends.

That’s all he wanted you to be—a friend.

He took a deep breath, his hands falling away from your face as he stepped back, as if retreating from his own vulnerability. “It’s all a lie, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched.

“I thought that’s what you wanted—the only thing you wanted from me—and I tried to convince myself that I could settle with that. That it would be enough. But…” His gaze locked on yours, piercing and raw. “I can’t.”

“What?” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The world stopped turning.

“I love you,” he repeated. “And I don’t want to keep pretending I’m okay with only being your friend. I don’t want to keep pretending. I just… I just want you to know that I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t remember what life was before you.”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think.

Mate.

“You love me?” you whispered.

He nodded as a tear ran down his face. 

Another sob tore from you and his hands were on your face again in an instant, pulling you close. “I love you, too,” you murmured, the words spilling out.

And at last, the color returned to his eyes again, hazel-golden shining in the dark room. 

And that was it; the light that you needed, the strength that guided you—that encouraged you to tell him. 

“I am… I am your mate.” 

A beat later you realized you weren’t the one who had spoken. 

-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas

azriel masterlist

a/n: thanks for requesting, i hope the fic is of your liking, though i took some liberties in the writing. thanks for your request, love!!

[cazort]

things people can do:

listen and understand and show you they understand, which can sometimes help you feel better even if that's the only thing they do

help you with an insight or idea that you might not have thought of, which might improve your situation or how you feel

offer you some sort of material help if it's a situation where that would help (and sometimes material help can indirectly help with problems they have no control over, like for example if i'm really stressed by a situation out of my control, having someone bring me food when i'm out of food might help me so much even if the main bad situation itself is unchanged)

be grateful that you have shared with them how you are really doing, even if they can't do anything to make you feel better. i know i am like this much of the time, like when i know someone well, i can often tell when they're not fine but say they're fine. and when they tell me how they're really doing, it makes me feel good, because i know they trust me and feel safe and comfortable enough with me to share how they are really doing.

feel better about their own struggles. the person asking you how you are, may not be doing well themselves. they may even have similar struggles. and if everyone around them says they are fine, they may feel alone. but if you open up, you may be helping them to realize they are not alone. you can then both feel solidarity, perhaps commiserate.

so yeah. this is why i often actually tell people what is going on with me when i'm not fine, and why i really appreciate it when others do the same with me.

not just friends, sometimes strangers.

like once i was in a coffee shop and there was a long line and the scene was hectic and several customers in front of me had been snippy with the baristas, so when i got up to the front of the line the barista was like "what can i get you?" and i paused and i was like "how are you?"

it threw her off guard. she sighed and i could see her whole posture change, like she shrugged her shoulders and physically relaxed and her face changed. she looked visibly tired and exasperated but more relaxed, and she didn't answer my question but she didn't need to, i could read the answer all over her face. and she was like: "you are the first person who has asked me that in a while and i can tell you care" and that's all she said and then i made my order.

but it really touched me because it was a genuine human connection, a sharing of a moment of intimacy with a stranger that i think was beneficial for both of us, in a sea of hectic, stressy interactions that can be quite alienating.

i think that that small interaction taught me a deep lesson, that sometimes, sharing with someone that you are not doing well, can actually be a gift to that person. it can be a tiny moment of mutual healing, even if nothing further comes from it. it reaffirms the thread of humanity that is all-too-often missing in our modern society.

[simpjaes]

Thoughts on jealous Jay? Like is he gonna give silent treatment and then fuck you senseless or talk it out calmy and be a cutie and sulk like a baby till you give him attention and needs alot of affirmation (ITS A HORRIBLE ASK I DONT KNOW HOW TO DESCRIBE IT OKAY IM SO SORRY)

Oh.....oh. what if...both?

WARNING: could be considered dub con to some people, be aware of that. not proof read.

Three days.

It's been three whole days since your boyfriend last spoke to you, and your mind has been running in all sorts of directions to determine why. Three days, that's how long it took you to get it. That's how long it took you to wonder if Jay is planning to break up with you over it.

Over Sunghoon, and the way he called you mid-sex with Jay all those nights ago. He was just asking if you took notes during the last class since he skipped, that's all. You didn't even answer the call, but it's the fact that Jay glanced over at your ringing phone and saw his motherfucking name.

It was eleven at night. Why did he have any reason to call you so late? "Jay..." You make the same attempt you have been making each day, every hour, as much as you can to try and get him to respond to you.

And it's the fact that he still shows up every day like usual, like he's not mad at you. Yet, he leaves every night without a work towards you, not a goodnight kiss, not a hug, not even a "sleep well." "Are you going to break up with me?" You meekly add, noting how he doesn't even glance in your direction and, instead, sits on your couch as if you're the one invading his space. For the first time in three days, she shoots his eyes to you, narrowing them. Finally, some emotion. Yet, still...no words. No reassurance. Nothing to make you feel better, or to indicate that Sunghoon is the reason, or that he's not breaking up with you. Instead, you find yourself backing away from him as he storms up at you. Back, back, back until you're hitting the kitchen counter and unable to escape from him. He says nothing, he doesn't even kiss you, and instead you feel his hands pulling your shorts down too fast to argue. Then, you're being flipped around, further proof that he can't even stand to look at you right now. And, so, you let him. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants if it means he will finally go back to normal. You're thankful he does too. Though it hurts knowing it took him plunging into you from behind, pressing your face into the cold counter to actually open up about why he's upset. He had to treat you like you mean nothing in order to remember you matter, much, much more to him than either of you can imagine. And now, as you sit somewhat numb against his chest, he whispers the warmth back to you. Apologetic, guilty for having let his jealousy get the best of him. "Baby, I-" He pauses, knowing there's nothing he can do to erase the fact that he just fucked you without any care or gentleness. "I had it my head that you...were going t-" "It's Sunghoon, isnt it?" You blurt, looking at your boyfriend and the way he pouts and relishes in his own guilt. There's a small nod from here, a shameful one. "You ignored me for three days over Sunghoon?" Another shameful nod, proving to you just how insecure your boyfriend is and how much he probably needs you to reassure him that there's no one like him in your life.

[smilesatdawnmain]

Taken Back (Part one)

“Take. Him. Home.” Macaque’s voice was sharp over the phone.

Wukong ducked his head a little, “I did. We did. We are there right now.” he says, yet at the same time, was walking out of the gates to leave said location.

“I can hear you Wukong. You are walking away.”

“I took him home!” Wukong disagreed, one hand holding a phone up to his ear, the other holding the hand of a small little cub. They walked side by side, swinging their arms a little. Behind them was a run-down, horribly smelling, poor excuse of an establishment.

It also just so happened to be the little one’s home.

“Wukong-”

“I was telling him about Xiaoxiao, and he asked if he could meet him and well- he wasn’t busy, we aren’t busy- Play date!” Wukong says with a grin. Below him, the child, a little fella named “MK” looked up with an excited smile.

With chubby cheeks, large round eyes, and the most adorable little nose, it was no surprise that Wukong's heart was being stolen.

“Mihou,” he says before his mate could say more, “If you could just see him. Just look at him for a moment…” he exhaled. Wukong had only seen him once and it was like he was under a spell ever since. He couldn’t seem to let the child out of his sight, to stop holding this little hand- afraid to let go.

Macaque sighed heavily on the other end of the line. "Wukong, I know you mean well, but you can't just take the boy whenever you please. He has a home and a family-”

“He lives in an…!” Wukong paused, whispering, “Orphanage.” Wukong's heart clenched at the thought of returning MK to that dismal place. He looked down at the little cub, who gazed back up at him with those big, trusting eyes.

“Ah-” Macaque didn’t finish. He seemed to be debating. "Wukong, he’s human.” he says when nothing else came to mind. A human in their world was at greater risk.

"I know, I know," Wukong said, his voice softening. "But just for today, hmm? A play date. Xiaotian is always looking for more friends.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Macaque spoke, his tone resigned. "Fine. But just for a few hours, Wukong. Then you need to take him back."

Wukong grinned triumphantly. "You got it, Mihou. We'll have him back before sunset." He ended the call and turned his full attention to MK, who was practically bouncing with excitement. "Ready to meet my little monkey?" Wukong asked, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately.

MK nodded eagerly, his eyes shining. "Yeah! Let's go, let's go!" he jumped up and down, swinging his hand against Monkey King’s. His hero- everything he thought he would be.

MK was afraid that he would bore the Monkey King with all his endless questions. He was used to being ignored or told to be quiet by the caretakers at the orphanage if he talked too much. But the Monkey King was different. He listened attentively, never getting tired of MK's chatter. And chatter MK did when allowed. “We’re you talking to the Six Eared Macaque just now??” MK asked. “L-Liu’er Mihou. That is his other name in the book! I drew pictures of him too-” he paused, and pulled out his sketchbook to show. “The book says he is pretty with 6 ears, but it never said what else he looked like.”

Wukong tilted his head, curious if the boy had somehow heard their conversation. “That was him, yeah. He’s my mate.”

“Your boyfriend?” MK asked.

“Mate,” Wukong corrects. The child looked confused so Wukong changed the word, “Husband.”

“Ooh!” MK nodded, understanding now. “And you’re the wife??”

Wukong choked a little. He sputtered and coughed, caught off guard by MK's innocent question. "No, no, I'm not the wife," he managed to say between coughs, a warmth to his ears. "We're both husbands."

MK looked up at him, his brow furrowed in confusion. "But in the stories, there's always a husband and a wife. He is the husband and you-" he drawled out, giving Wukong a look that CLEARLY meant he was the wife.

Wukong shook his head, and stammered, kneeling before the boy with a slight grouch, "I am not a wife! Sometimes there can be two husbands or two wives. Love is love, no matter who it's between."

MK considered this for a moment. “So then can there be a husband, wife and husband again?”

Wukong blinked, “Um…”

“What about a wife, wife and husband?” MK continued.

Wukong scratched his cheek, “I-I guess? I mean-”

“Love is love, no matter who it’s between.” MK copied Wukong’s words, as if something in this world was finally clicking for him.

Wukong laughed sheepishly. This kid certainly had a lot of questions. But it was nice that he wanted to learn and see the world. As they walked, he watched MK open his sketch book, trying to flip to a certain page with just one hand. Wukong peered down at the sketchbook MK proudly held up, his eyes widening with surprise and delight. On the page was a drawing of Macaque, with his six ears prominently featured. While the details were a bit childlike, the likeness was undeniable.

"Wow, MK, this is amazing!" Wukong exclaimed, gently taking the sketchbook for a closer look. "You've captured Mihou perfectly. I bet he'd be flattered to see this."

MK beamed at the praise, his cheeks flushed. “Hehe.” he giggled.

Wukong mused, touching the picture lightly. He nailed his ears, his fur, his eyes… In a childish doodle, yes, but… how did MK know what color Macaque’s ears were? One orange, one yellow and one purple? Did it say that in the book? Did it say Macaque skin tone, fur color… did it explain the little dimple he had when he smiled?

Wukong didn’t know, as he had never really read the Journey to the West himself. Kind of pointless when it was something he physically was there for.

MK's drawing was remarkably accurate, considering he had never met Macaque in person. Wukong turned to the boy, his curiosity piqued. "MK, how did you know what Mihou looks like? Did the book describe him in such detail?"

MK shook his head, his eyes wide and earnest. "No, not really. The book just said he had six ears and was pretty. Was I close?” he asked, hoping he was.

Wukong paused, studying the drawing again. "You were more than close, MK. This is exactly what he looks like. It's almost as if you've seen him before."

MK's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Really? Wow, I can't believe I got it right!" He bounced on his toes, thrilled that his artistic instincts had been so accurate. Sometimes he liked to imagine when the Six Eared Macaque looked like in his dreams too. Silky fur, kind auburn eyes, and a sweet smile. Calling to him- “Moon Drop.” Though, sometimes the vision is fuzzy and like splots of color. His dreams are so strange.

Wukong stared at the piece of paper in wonder. There were no lies in MK’s words. No deceit in his presence… Actually, in contrast, MK had a very lack of presence. He couldn’t really smell him, or sense him, even with him right next to him.

He considered investigating this further, but they were starting to gather some eyes with them just standing in the street like this. Wukong hadn’t put on a glamor either, so the appearance of The Monkey King was definitely raising some eye brows.

Leaving this for later, he handed MK back his journal to put in his backpack again. “Well, let’s get going. Don’t wanna lose too much daylight,” Wukong chuckled and led the way, MK's small hand clutched firmly in his own. As they walked, Wukong pointed out various sights - a colorful butterfly flitting by, and a funny-shaped cloud in the sky. MK absorbed it all with wide-eyed wonder. Eventually, Wukong lifted the boy onto his shoulders, leaping up to the roof above.

MK squealed with delight, hugging his head tightly as he held on. Making some spitting noises, "Hair!" his face planted right into the Monkey's King's heap of orange fur.

Wukong laughed, "Sorry, a bit of a mess up there." The two shared a laugh before Wukong asked, “Afraid of heights?” he asked.

MK shook his head no. Such towering things never bothered him before. With that said, Wukong summoned his cloud, allowing it to rest before them as he settled MK on top of it. MK’s eyes were wide like saucers as he sunk into the plushness of the cloud, nearly disappearing in it’s fluff.

Wukong peered over with a wag of his tail when MK giggled.

Wukong hopped onto the cloud beside MK, the billowy surface dipping slightly under his weight. "Hold on tight, little one," he said with a mischievous grin. "We're going for a ride!"

MK's tiny hands gripped the cloud's fluffy edges as Wukong willed it forward, the magical conveyance gliding effortlessly through the air. The city below them grew smaller and smaller until the buildings looked like colorful toy blocks dotting the landscape.

"Whoaaaa!" MK exclaimed, his voice carried away by the rushing winds. Looking down, the city seemed so small and insignificant. Like a distant dream. Was this itself a dream?

Leaning against the Monkey King he clung to the man’s side, feeling secure and safe. The Monkey King smelled like peaches and sunlight- MK dind’t realize how much he loved that smell until now.

As the magical cloud soared higher, MK's initial excitement gave way to a peaceful contentment. Snuggled against Wukong's side, he felt a warmth and comfort he had never known before. The orphanage, with its cold, bare walls and strict caretakers, seemed a world away.

Wukong glanced down at the little boy, his heart swelling with affection. In such a short time, MK had captured a piece of his soul. He rubbed the boy’s back as they took the journey back home. As city turned to valleys, which turned into mountainy landscapes, a moment of lava covered lands, and then the jungle soon followed.

“My home,” Wukong says as Flower Fruit Mountain came into view beyond the lush canopy. His Home. Mihou’s. The tribes. His Son’s…

Maybe…

If he wanted, it could be this little Cub’s too…

As the cloud descended towards a clearing near the mountain's base, the tribe could be seen eagerly following after its descent. They chirped in greeting to their king, and curiosity to the little one clinging to his side.

Amid the group, a flash of bright white fur caught their eye. A tiny figure appeared, enthusiastically waving at me. It was Xiaotian, Wukong's energetic little monkey offspring, bouncing up and down in excitement, "Baba! Baba!" Xiaotian called out to warn Macaque, his high-pitched voice ringing through the jungle. "Daddy is back!" Throwing his arms up, he seemed to still when the cloud lowered enough to view. His Father upon it- but also someone else.

Someone…

XIaotian lowered his hands slowly, a strange sensation coming over him. He was alert, eyes wide. To anyone else it might seem that he was just taking in the account of a stranger coming into their midsts.

Yet, something far deeper was clicking in Xiaotian’s little head. Something he hadn’t prepared for- and didn’t know how to comprehend. It froze him in place, stiffening his joints.

Behind him, from the shadows, his Baba emerged, arm cross and staring at his husband. “He certainly is, Sun spot.” he sighed, settling his hand on his baby’s head. He glanced down when Xiaotian seemed tense, curiously brushing his hand to the child’s cheek. XIaotian subconsciously turned into the comfort, but his eyes never left his Father- or more correctly, the child his Father brought with him.

The cloud settled gently onto the ground, dissipating into wisps as Wukong stepped off with MK. The little boy clung to Wukong's hand, his eyes darting around nervously at the unfamiliar surroundings and the curious faces of monkey’s peering at him. They sniffed, but could get no scent from the child.

"Welcome to Flower Fruit Mountain, MK," Wukong said, giving the boy's hand a reassuring squeeze. "This is my home, and my family." he mused when MK half hid behind his leg. MK’s eyes were moving wildly, taking in every sight. The monkeys, the trees, the man with six ears who, as the stories had said, was very beautiful. And then…

MK's eyes landed on Xiaotian, who continued to look at him with a difficult-to-describe expression.

Whole

MK jolted, his knuckles turning white as he grasped onto Wukong’s pant leg.

MK and Xiaotian stared at each other, transfixed, as if the rest of the world had fallen away. The parents were speaking above them, some banter and slight annoyance on Mihou’s part. A nervous chuckle from Wukong.

All of it was distant, even to MK’s incredibly good hearing.

All that mattered, instead, was this boy. Like a memory from a dream.

He had never seen this boy before and yet, he recognized his eyes. Recognized the snow white fur of his arms. Recognized the butterfly marking on his face, and the dimple on his cheek. A fluff tail that seemed to move on it’s own agenda. He knew this boy.

Xiaotian tilted his head, mirroring MK's entranced expression. He took a tentative step forward, then another, slowly approaching the human boy as if drawn by an invisible force. There was a moment of tense silence as the two children regarded each other, the jungle itself seeming to hold its breath.

Above them, the adults were in the midst of a small chat- Whatever annoyance MIhou had, he held his tongue about, giving only a grumpy look. Wukong smiled sheepishly, but had no doubt his mate would understand once he had a chance to just talk to MK. When they finally looked back down the children, they saw a strange sight of two in complete awe of each other.

Yet, what happened next, Wukong didn’t know if he would ever truly understand. He expected his son, Xiaotian, to be curious of this new little boy. He expected Xiaotian to perhaps be nervous, or over eccentric. To ask a million questions on who MK was and why he was here.

What Wukong didn't expect was for Xiaotian to suddenly burst into tears, his small body shaking with sobs.

Macaque was reacting immediately, dropping to his knee in concern for their son.

“Sun spot??” he panicked, gently touching the boy’s back. They worried perhaps he was in pain, that his illness was flaring, uncertain as Xiaotian rubbed the tears on his chubby cheeks.

The pitiful cries sounded so pained. He couldn’t speak, even as much as he tried, wheezing and extending his hand out. Holding it out feebly to the one that he didn’t know the name of, but had been so desperately seeking for so his entire existence.

Wukong thought Xiaotian was reaching for him and was about to rush to his child- when MK reacted first.

He was running.

MK eyes had be wide when Xiaotian dissolved into tears, the little monkey's cries echoing through the jungle. Without hesitation, MK stepped forward, his own small hand reaching out to meet Xiaotian's.

Their fingers touched, and in that moment, a strange sensation passed between them - a flicker of recognition, of familiarity, as if their souls had known each other long before this meeting.

They felt whole. Complete.

MK was never a child who cried. Perhaps once, like any child would, he was prone to little tears and whines. His time at the orphanage had taught him quick enough that he couldn’t allow himself to cry. There was no comfort in his tears, nor did it bring any rescue from his pain.

Still… Perhaps if he was older, and his heart was more hardened, even this moment would not bring those emotions forward. He was not older however. He was not someone grown.

He was just a little boy. A little boy who had been so alone, so lost, until this very instant.

MK's own eyes welled with tears as he grasped Xiaotian's hand tightly, as if afraid to let go. A sob escaped his throat, and then another, until he too was crying openly, mirroring Xiaotian's heartfelt display of emotion.

Wukong and Macaque watched in stunned silence as their son and this human child, strangers mere moments ago, embraced each other like long-lost brothers. Xiaotian's sobs gradually quieted, replaced by soft hiccups as he buried his face in MK’s shoulder.

To start the new year, I give you the first part of

TAKEN BACK

I'll most likely make more parts, though I do not know If I will also make art to go with it. We shall see. But for now, the boys are reunited and home~

[leafostuff]

No Strings Attached [Ft. Billlie's Sheon and Tsuki]

Author's Note: Im out of Hiatus!!!

And finally the continuation of No Names Needed, fun fact - this idea of a sequel with both Tsuki and Sheon was in my brain for a long time, i only now found the inspiration, time and energy to write it.

By the time this will come out, it will be 2025 so happy new year everyone, hope yall thought about your resolutions and had the a blast for 2024, Soon also my writerversary will come as well (Feb 5th) so that is hype as well.

Lastly, just want to thank @defmaybe for helping with beta reading the fic, it kinda is quite a mess when it comes to plot but i honestly enjoyed writing this so much.

And without further ado, hope yall have a fun read

================================================

So after that entire situation at the club’s bathroom with the mysterious girl, a couple of questions are now stuck in your head:

Firstly, how did she manage to convince you for a second round at her place so easily?, It’s not like you were in the right headspace for any reason considering you just reviewed the best head of your life and you were excited to see more of her but still.

Second, what are the odds that just as you were ready to take off your shirt, her roommate just so happened to arrive from her shift? Having to sit quietly on their couch listening to the awkward argument of having to leave the dorm for tonight so her roommate could sleep in peace after a long shift.

And lastly: why are they now making out on the bed with their underwear only?

“Nghh…Sheon…” is the only her roommate (which you are still not sure about

Her name) can mutter between kisses, her voice is sweet on the ears, especially when she moans with how her partner latches her luscious lips (which you can vouch for by experience) latch on a particular spot on her neck, “so good…”

“Yes unnie, it is so good” it's the way Sheon elongates the last two words which raises the sexual tension inside the room, and her hands are not left idle, rubbing her right thigh back and forth. 

“And look, he is so hard for us right now” she adds before slightly tilting her roommate's face toward your naked erection, everything happened so fast you don't even remember when you took off your pants. “What do you say, oppa, ready for round two?”

“Fuck, as long you tell me your cute roommate's name,” you finally respond, already inching closer to them with impatience and lust. However, it seems like Sheon has other plans.

“That’s not how it works” Sheon lets out a disappointed sigh, “You can't just get a girl’s name like that, first you need to let her suck your cock.” To any other person, Sheon’s response would be fucked up, but to you and the two girls? For some reason, it just makes sense. “But before all of that, let me get unnie to show her tits to us”.

Words quickly turn into actions as Sheon unclasped her roommate's bra, letting it fall onto the sheets, giving her mounds the full view they desperately needed. It's hard to pinpoint exactly her size, especially with how Sheon is not wasting a second by slowly pushing her friend’s face lower to face the tip of your hardness.

The last stretch though, she does by herself and honestly? Those two girls might as well be sisters since like Sheon, as soon as her lips wrap around the tip of your cock a switch flips in her head, immediately starting with slow and steady bobbing movement toward the base of your cock.

She even has the same deadly stare Sheon has when she looks up, seeing your eyes closed while biting your lips every time she gets your cock deeper inside her, letting out a soft mumble resembling a chuckle before increasing the pace and the passion she uses to drain you.

And it drives you fucking insane.

“Oh my god unnie, you suck his cock so fucking amazing” Sheon is shocked at the oral assault her roommate expertly does. “Let me just get naked and then I will start sucking his balls, okay, unnie?” Even with the immense pleasure you receive you can still see how Sheon quickly takes off her bra to reveal her rather small mounds before diving downward, facing your cock with a hungry gaze.

She shifts around to find a comfortable position near her roommate and then, without leaving you a place to get used to it, she immediately reaches her tongue forward, giving it a teasing lick that sends shivers to your brain never felt before.

The only thing you can do is grip the mattress of the bed, trying to find some semblance of control over your body while two professional arsonists set your body aflame with pleasure that can only be described as messy and the sounds they make doesn't help your situation.

“Mm shewon-” the black-haired girl muffles with your cock still inside her mouth, “he is swo hawrd-nghh…” she manages to say to her friend, who seems to get excited with each moment seeing her friend being fucked.

“I know, right? I bet he really likes it when girls like us suck his big, thick cock,” Sheon responds while her hands go to her roommate's hair, moving it from her face to give more space, then she turns to you. “What about you, oppa, getting close for my unnie?”.

You can only nod in response, as any other will take too much energy from you. “That's great oppa,” Sheon adds, taking a look sideways and see how into the feeling the other girl, you could bet she’s not even hearing a word of your conversation as her entire soundscape consistent of licking, slurping and moaning, all which gets you closer to what they have been waiting.

But then, Sheon rises from her position, moving herself from near her roommate to now sitting behind you. You can feel how one of her hands snakes up from behind, gliding across your naked chest before leaning her mouth to your right ears, whispering the magic you didn't know even existed.

“Fill her”

And all hell breaks loose. This simple request is enough to send you into overdrive, as you quickly put each of your hands on the black-haired girl’s head for control before releasing your first shot of your load into her mouth.

And it just doesn't stop, your mind is all hazy only focusing on that request, each buck of your hips forward gets you reaching the back of her mouth with your cock and then unloading another round of cum down her throat, getting the both of you to release a moan.

Sheon? She’s ecstatic, jumping up and down behind you frantically. Each pump of yours gets her giggling and smiling wider. “Yes, yes, yes!!, fill her oppa, fill my Tsuki unnie, she's such a slut for your big cock, let her have all of it” As if she knew all of your sweet spots, she reached her lips to your ear, giving it a loving kiss which gets you hornier.

Below you, Tsuki lets out tears from the pleasure overtaking her entire body, each drop of cum getting inside her gets her moaning while her hands gripping your thighs to not faint, meanwhile managing to mutter a slutty, needy “more” every time she takes her lips out to catch her breath, before taking you in further.

Your last drops of your white load eventually gets swallowed by Tsuki’s, pulling her lips out of your cock and letting you fall onto the bed, pleasure blurs every bit of your vision, finally having time to catch your breath for the first time of the night and your heartbeat to slow down.

“Fuck…you two…are insane” is the only thing you manage to say between heavy breaths.

“And the best part, oppa? We're not over yet,” Sheon says, her voice still seductive, you manage to raise your head and see the two girls as you suddenly notice something: their panties are off.

In front of you are now two girls, fully naked, presenting themselves to you in their full glory, Sheon with a slutty smile and a bite on her lower lip while Tsuki demeanor is more reserved however her eyes share the same curiosity and excitement as her roommate. Immediately, this gets you up and running once again.

“That's right Oppa, you still didn't have the chance to cum on Tsuki unnie's thighs…or inside my ass, and especially…” She then goes behind Tsuki, quickly inserting two digits into her pussy while her other hand goes to grope one of her tits, getting Tsuki to gasp in surprise from the surprising touch over her body.

 “You didn't get to cum inside our tight little pussies, Oppa,” she adds, now you're fully immersed in the show in front of you.

“Who knows, maybe a round or two later we could hear your name, right?”

It’s that question that guarantees both to them and to you that tonight's gonna be unlike any other night you ever had in your life.

[defmaybe]

A Romantic and Incomplete Guide to Tokyo

12 Days of Christmas: Day 8, January 1st, 2025

STAYC’s Yoon Seeun x Male Reader

3.7k words

Christmas Masterlist

The chilly air courses through your body inside Narita—thought it’d be warmer inside the building. You rub your hands, seeking just a tiny amount of warmth. Fuck, how cold is it?

The weather app shows a single digit temperature. Even the three-layer clothing you’re wearing doesn’t help, really.

Fuck.

“So, we’ll match you into pairs. For those who are already in a group–” you can’t quite focus on what the guides are saying. You’ve barely slept on the plane. The cabin croaked and cried all the way. God, it’s going to be another bad first day.

You’re too focused on your predicament to hear the voice of a woman beside you.

“Hey.”

Fuck, this place is cold.

“Hey.” Her voice is finally processed by your mind with a tap on your shoulder. You’re jolted out of your trance. Beside you is a somewhat tall (well, as tall as you), smiling woman. She doesn’t seem to be that much of a talkative person, judging from how she fully buttons her coat. You can handle that. 

Her eyes are gorgeous. It’s a pair that might hypnotize you somewhere along the trip. Her face is more on the wider side. She looks beautiful nonetheless. Fuck, you forgot to say something. Did you just stare at her like that? Good grief, first day and it’s over for you!

“Yeah, I get it. I didn’t sleep last night either,” she says with a chuckle. What a relief.

You blink to refresh yourself from the fatigue. “Y–Yeah, hi!”

You tell her your name. She tells you her name—Seeun. She tells you that people often misread her name as See-un, which is funny because she happens to have a friend named Sieun. Both of you are from the same city, though you two have probably never met each other.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m in the entertainment industry,” she answers with a shy smile.

With a face like that, yeah, she probably is.

—

“Definitely, Maybe.”

“What, did you watch it at fourteen or something?” Seeun asks with a chuckle. “I thought it was like–a three-star movie.”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

The two of you are treading aimlessly inside Tower Records (the Shibuya one), trying to find a few albums to take back to your homes. You’ve picked up a few. She has picked up a few.

“That feels a bit–condescending,” you say with a forced smile, a little disheartened. Come on, Seeun, you don’t have to be so rude!

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I mean–mine’s not much better either,” she apologizes, guilt looming in her voice.

“What is it?”

“The Last Jedi.”

You halt your movements, shocked by her answer. Sure, The Last Jedi still have a lot of supporters, but you didn’t expect her to be one of them.

“Really?”

She stops walking along with you, doubling down on her answer. “Yeah.”

“That’s brave,” you say.

She chuckles. “What? Are you going to say that I’m tasteless or something?” She walks past your face to pick up Good Riddance. You also have one back at your home from your trip a few years ago, the deluxe one.

“I gave it four and a half stars,” you reply. That’ll definitely impress her.

“That’s cool,” she says, eyes still focused on the album. Her expression seems happier, though. “What do you like about it?”

You lean in closer to Seeun to look at the back of the album with her. It’s the deluxe version, sixteen songs. If she wants to buy one, this should be it. “I love a movie with a vision.”

A smile escapes Seeun’s lips. She’s clearly impressed by your answer. “Says the one who has a two-thousands romance as their favorite,” she playfully teases.

“Fourteen is a crucial age in human development,” you scoff. “What did you watch back then?”

“Award winners,” she says, putting Good Riddance on top of a stack of Souvlaki, Pet Grief, Charm, and a few more albums you’ve never quite heard of. Unlock My World? Titanic Rising? 

“I had a lot of free time during the summer before my ninth–or tenth grade, so I kinda just watched whatever was in the award-winner section on Netflix.”

She counts the stack. It’s at six albums, for now. “But yeah, I particularly love The Last Jedi because Rian did what Jeffrey didn’t, or wasn’t brave enough to. Star Wars can be too safe a lot of times.” She continues walking into the G aisle, and you have to catch up with her.

“I get that,” you say, glancing around for potential candidates for your stack, nothing as of now. “So, just The Last Jedi, or–”

“Steel Magnolias,” she cuts you off sternly, confidently. You’re not surprised (both with the choice and how she cut you off). They really scream her.

“That feels more like you.”

A small laugh escapes her lips. 

“You could’ve just asked for my Letterboxd, you know?”

—

The ramen shop is filled with tour group members. No loud chattering, of course. The tour guide explicitly asked for that. It might disturb the other visitors.

You and Seeun are sitting with two other fellow travelers. The two of you are too shy to say a thing, though, so you just let Yeonjun and Miyeon shoot questions at you for the whole dinner. These two look so damn good. It’s as if they’re idols or something.

You learned about Seeun a little more. She has a younger brother. She was raised in Pyeongtaek. She has two cats at her parents’. You notice the way she keeps scrunching her nose. She looks so cute doing so.

She seems to love Shoyu ramen, but judging from a single order doesn’t seem fair. She eats with her mouth closed; that’s a good sign. Her mannerisms are just too perfect for a person. Her time in the industry probably teaches her a lot of this.

You trade contacts with Yeonjun and Miyeon as you finish the meal. It seems that they really are idols, after all.

“Maybe we can meet again soon? Like–after the trip,” Yeonjun asks.

Miyeon laughs softly, “You’ll have to be a bit conservative with your clothes, though. We don’t want any attention on us.”

“Sure,” you answer, and that’s a date.

—

“So, how about we keep switching every day? Four nights, that should be two for each.”

In front of you is a double bed.

A double bed.

You cannot fathom the idea of sleeping next to a person who you've known barely a day. It’s going to be awkward. You cannot do this!

“Y–You said you work in the entertainment industry, right?” You can’t risk her back just for your own comfort. Don’t be an asshole! Help her!

“Yeah, and?” she makes a slightly puzzled expression.

“Well, I don’t want your back to–”

“Do you know you can just ask them for a cushion?”

“Oh,” you utter. That was embarrassing.

“I’m not going to be a snobby bitch over a bed, you know?” she says with a giggle.

—

You cannot sleep that well last night, even with the cushion. Now, you’re walking along a road in Harajuku, a little fatigued, a little tired.

You take in the atmosphere around you, trying to inhale some clean fresh air. The trees are more than abundant. What an atmosphere. It feels so cozy, so comfortable. God, you just wish you could live here forever.

Seeun seems to notice the exhaustion that’s creeping up on you, though.

“Good sleep?” she asks, trying to gauge your current state. You’re tired, of course, but you can’t let her know that.

“Y–Yeah.” Well, the stutter in your voice is evident. That’s bad.

She chuckles, patting your back softly. Your body shudders at her apparently friendly touch.

“Well, it’s my turn tonight.”

The two of you trod along the streets of Harajuku. You take a few pictures. She takes a few pictures.

—

Well, you’re feeling a little guilty now. The bed is just feeling too comfy. Seeun is probably hurting her back down there.

You keep shifting and turning on your bed, unable to sleep. A lot is going through your head right now.

“Seeun?”

No answer.

“Seeun?”

Still no answer.

You lean your head over the edge, only to find Seeun already in slumber. A small smile is painted on her face. It’s probably a good dream.

You should just let her sleep.

—

“So.”

It’s Yokohama day. You’re sitting at a Starbucks under some tower, while the others seem to be enjoying themselves somewhere else. The chilly wind blows on your face.

“How about we–uh,” you pause, trying to gather the courage to say the next words.

“You’re making it look like it’s something bad,” she says, chuckling. A cup of hot latte rests in her hand idly.

“I’d argue that it’s pretty weird.”

“And I’d argue that I won’t be mad at you, like–how bad can it be?”

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to say the next words.

“Can we–Can we just–sleep on the bed together?” you ask, avoiding her eyes. The last few words come out a bit too fast, but you believe that the message was delivered, nonetheless.

She lets out a smile. “Sure, why not?”

You do a double take. You’re shocked that she’d say yes to it as easily as that. “That was easy.”

“My back fucking hurts.” And you two let out a laugh together.

—

She smells good.

It’s already one in the morning, but you’re still shaking in the dripping anxiety of sleeping next to her. And with that smell. You just can’t sleep.

Fucking hell.

“Seeun.”

“Yeah?” she answers immediately. God, hasn’t she slept yet?

“What perfume do you use?” And you hear a giggle come from your side.

“Dior’s Sakura,” she says.

“Can I–uh–see it?” you ask.

She grabs the bottle. You’re expecting her to hand you that, but suddenly, she sprays it on her wrist.

“Wh–Wha–”

She gives you her wrist, and the smell reaches your nose before you can say a word. You close your eyes. It’s so intense, yet so fresh, like spring.

“O–Oh.”

“How was it?” she asks with a giggle.

“It was–uh–pretty good.”

Seeun bursts out a laugh. “Come on, it’s definitely better than pretty good. Like–look at your face!”

It’s definitely better than pretty good. “Y–Yeah, it’s–heavenly, Seeun.”

“You want some more? C’mon, grab my arm. It’s yours,” she invites you, and to be honest, there has never been any arm you’d want to take in its scent more than Seeun’s.

With your instinct, you pull Seeun’s right arm closer to your nose, before taking a deep breath full of her scent, eyes closed. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that you’re in heaven right now.

You hear Seeun laughing from the left. It’s a bit weird to sniff a woman’s arm like this, really, but you couldn’t care less right now.

“I don’t think you should stop just there, baby,” she suddenly blurts out.

The word spurs you on. You immediately go over Seeun’s body to have her below you, all smiling and blushing. She’s avoiding your gaze. She’s shy, but she wants this. She’s craving for this, and so are you.

“What should I do with you, Miss Yoon?” you tease her, drawing a line in the middle of her chest with your index finger, making her keen softly.

“A–Anything, baby. I need you–right now.”

You immediately latch your lips with hers, invading her mouth aggressively. She tastes like strawberry. The wet sound of kissing rings over your ear.

“So–So good,” she mutters into the blazing kiss. Her hands quickly pull down your pants, revealing your throbbing cock underneath. She then starts jerking you off with her filthy hand. She wants to milk you dry as quickly as possible.

You pull back from the kiss. A string of saliva connecting your lips is evident. That looks so fucking hot. Below, she’s still rubbing your cock up and down, making your whole body shiver in pleasure.

“M–My god, Seeun,” you groan.

She only chuckles, before drawing her hand back, leaving you whining in the absence of her.

“Can’t have you cum outside of me, baby,” she whispers, unbuttoning her top. Her beautiful cleavage comes into view. Her nipples sit just around the edge of her shirt. You quickly swathe her shirt away, revealing her hard, dusky nipples. She’s ready for you.

Immediately, you latch your needy mouth onto her buds. The mixture of the salty taste of her sweat and her scent of spring are mixed into an aphrodisiac. Her raw, unfiltered moans fill your ears.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” she mewls. Her hands pressing your head onto her breasts. God, what a feeling.

You lavish her tits, hands trying to get rid of her shirt. She lifts herself up from the bed slightly to give way, and finally, the obstructing shirt leaves her taut body, exposing her upper body in all glory for you.

Still, it’s not enough. You need more. You need more. Your mouth travels down her toned tummy, making her moan is pure pleasure. Finally, you reach the edge of her pants, and you slowly, so, so slowly, pull them down, exposing her wanton cunt. Fuck, she’s already wet.

“Nghhh~” Seeun groans, a hand reaching down to rub her drenched folds by the sensitive nub. Her body jolts as she touches there. She’s moaning, and you can only watch.

“Goddamn it, Seeun. Thought you need me,” you utter.

Seeun giggles through her moan. “I–I’m waiting. J–Just need something i–inside me.”

Hastily, you unbutton your shirt, making you bare above her wanting body, before throwing the shirt to god knows where. You’re so ready to fuck her with your cock.

“Ah–will you just–ah–p–put it inside me already?” Seeun mewls, hand busy rubbing her cunt.

With sheer force, you flip Seeun so that she’s above you. You’re going to have her ride you until you’re dry.

“M–My god, you’re gonna have me do all the work?” she asks, her hands resting on your chest, almost clawing your skin.

“I–Is that okay?”

“Mmm, only if you cum inside me,” she answers sultrily, biting her finger.

You smile, lining up your cock against her pussy. She slowly sinks down, and–

“Ah!” the two of you moan in unison.

The feeling of Seeun on your cock is unreal. Her walls graze your cock, making you moan erratically. She ever so slowly sinks down on your cock, making you watch yourself disappear into her. Fuck.

She pushes her cunt down until you’re buried up to the hilt. You then languidly draw your cock out of her, before you thrust straight back into her pussy.

“Fuck!” she cries out.

You catch your tempo, starting to move in a steady rhythm into her needy pussy. Both of you groan in pure pleasure. God, this feels so fucking good.

“D–Do you know STAYC?” Seeun asks, trying to catch the rhythm of the debauchery.

STAYC, Star to a Young Culture. You’ve heard of them. A few hits have passed your ear. SO BAD, STEREOTYPE, Bubble. A pretty decent group, you’d say.

“Y–Yeah, have heard a few songs,” you reply, unsure where this conversation would go. She’s still moving up and down on your cock majestically. Her breasts sway with the movement. She’s beautiful. The sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy only brings pleasure to you.

“Well–” she grabs onto your shoulders, leaning in closer “–I’m one of them.”

What the fuck?

You shoot a confused expression towards her, before slowly turning into a laugh. “Ha–r–really?”

“Didn’t g–get this abs and thighs by a miracle,” she answers. Yeah, she does look good.

“Goddamn,” you exclaim, still shocked by the revelation. She’s an idol, a pretty popular one. “Well, it’s an honor to be engaging in a coitus with you, Miss Yoon.”

She bursts out a loud laugh. Her back arches. Coitus is the funniest word you could think of, and that seems to work on her. “Oh my god, coitus? What the fuck was that?”

You cannot help but to laugh along with her. “Ha–sorry, d–didn’t mean to.”

“I–If I can’t cum because of this–I’m gonna be pissed,” she says, chuckling.

You touch her thighs, trying to feel her approaching orgasm, and it’s there. She’s tensing up. “Looks like my words have no effect, Miss Yoon,” you tease.

“You’re lucky today,” she happily replies, poking your nose softly, as she keeps bouncing on your length. 

You keep thrusting your hips up to meet her thighs in the middle. Don’t want her to do all the work, after all. The wet sounds of your fleshes smacking into each other echoes through the room. The smell of your perfumes and sex are mixing into a concoction. It’s an aphrodisiac that only serves to drive you insane.

“G–God, you smell so good, Seeun,” you involuntarily utter, so lost in her scent of spring.

“T–Told ya, Dior’s Sakura f–for a Japan trip,” she says, voice almost moaning.

Your thrusting goes on, but the scent is just too hard to ignore. It’s making you crazy. You need her. You need her smell. Suddenly, you pull Seeun down towards you. She yelps in shock, before you take in the scent of the crook of her neck. Fuck, she smells like spring—so fresh, so clean. It’s so lively.

“Wh–What a freak,” she scoffs, but you’re sure that she’s enjoying this, judging by her moan.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply with a giggle, still inhaling her lively scent, pressing your lips on her neck from time to time. She tastes as good as she smells.

“G–God, you’re making me cum, baby,” she utters, grinding on your cock in an even more frantic motion. Her breathing becomes more erratic and seconds go by.

You pull back from her neck to roam over to her soft breasts above you. They feel so good in your hands. She cries out in the overstimulation you’re giving her—your hands on her chest, your cock digging into her dripping wet pussy. It’s heaven to her.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cu–ah!”

Her entire body becomes rigid. A stream of her squirt leaks out of her already-drenched cunt. Her eyes flutter in ecstasy. Her walls contract around your cock. Her back arches, showing her nude body in all glory for you. Her moan hits high notes. God, she has a wonderful voice.

You properly fuck her through her seemingly-neverending peak. You keep pounding into her pussy with reckless abandon as her body spasms above you. Her pleasure-infused moan grows shakier at the overstimulation. Her body then falls on top of you, locking you in a tight embrace.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god. Y–Your cock is so f–fucking good!” she shouts, spurring you on even more. Your pace quickens, plowing into her spent cunt erratically, so determined to fill her with your cum.

The familiar tension coils inside your stomach. You’re ready to fill her up. You’re ready to paint her insides white. You’re ready to breed her. You’re ready to reach the precipice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum,” you grunt, thrusting into her pussy frantically. Her body limps on top of you, simply without energy to move anymore.

“N–Need you–b–breed me,” she whimpers, eyes barely opening, body getting ragdolled by your motions.

With any remaining energy, you’re so determined to fully breed her with your cum. You pound her pussy with your thrusts, chasing your own orgasm. It’s there. It’s right fucking there.

“Fuck!”

You reach your breaking point. Your entire body shudders at the peak. Your cock shoots cum into her wanton, needy pussy, filling her womb with your nectar. A guttural groan leaves your lips. You’re taking full pleasure in fucking her wanting body. Fuck, it feels so good.

You slowly come down from your orgasm. Your breathing finds its rhythm again, panting for air. Your hands cling to her body tightly, not wanting her to leave you. Both of you are blushing under this Tokyo moon, and you couldn’t be happier with where you are—under her, inside her.

“That–That was f–fucking good, b–baby,” she utters, stuttered. Her hands are caressing your flushing body, feeling every curve and contour.

“Y–You are too, baby,” you say, still trying to catch your breath under the gleaming moonlight. “Fuck.”

Seeun softly chuckles, slowly dragging herself off your cock. Your groan as her walls are grazing your sensitive cock. It almost hurts, but finally, you’re out of her wet cunt.

“I–I’ll go to the b–bathroom,” she whimpers before getting off the bed, limping towards the bathroom to wash your filths out. Your juices can be seen dripping down her meaty thighs, what a lewd sight.

As she enters the bathroom, you lie back down on your bed—tired, spent, waiting for her to come back. You think about what just happened with Yoon Seeun on this bed. You kissed her. You sucked on her breasts. You pounded her pussy with reckless abandon, then shot spurts of cum inside her. God, could tonight get any better?

“Babe!” Seeun shouts from inside the bathroom.

You lazily get up from the bed, thinking of what she could possibly want. You walk towards the door before opening it.

The sight of Yoon Seeun seductively biting her finger greets you. She’s leaning on the sink. Her breasts are resting on her chest gorgeously. Your cum is still dripping down from her used pussy, and you figure it out.

She wants another round.

“S–Seeun,” you say, leaning tiredly against the door. You don’t have the energy to go on anymore. You just want to sleep already.

Seeun giggles before walking towards you. There’s the sway of her hips. There’s the way she bites her finger. There’s the way she puts one leg in front of the other every step. And before you know, your cock is hard again.

You can go for another round.

She pulls her finger out of her mouth, biting her lip sultrily. She then plunges her bitten finger into your mouth, making you suck on it the same way you suck her tits. A chuckle escapes her lips.

“Think you can handle me again, baby?”

With her finger inside your mouth, you can do nothing but nod.

—

[boobertronian]

MUAY THAI - PART 2

Nayeon x M/Reader

Continuation of Jihyo’s Chapter

Proofread by @vorrentis, big thanks for some ideations by @authorhjk1

Word counts : 7805 words

All works are fiction

ENJOY !

“Music playing”

Kangnam : “ That’s a wrap! Yayy! Thanks for being here Nayeon and Jihyo! Your voices are a-ma-zing!"

Nayeon: "Ohh you’re very welcome Kangnam-Sunbaenim! We really enjoyed this recording!”

Jihyo: "I hope we can collab again soon!"

Kangnam: "I'm looking forward to that! See you later girls!"

Jihyo and Nayeon walk back to their dressing room

Jihyo : “ whew that was long, at least it’s done for the day”

Nayeon: "Yeah I'm hungry now, I wanna go home and watch Arcane, Kookeu is waiting for me at home too, I miss my little baby”

Jihyo: "Yeah right Unnie, you always miss Kookeu lol. But anyway, come by my house tomorrow, I have something to show you”

Nayeon: "What? It’s weekend! I just wanna lay in bed and sleep! It’s been a while I have a weekend off!”

Jihyo: "Trust me unnie, this “souvenir” of mine won’t let you down hehe”

Nayeon: "Ughhhh, fine, better be something good, if not I'm gonna take your stuffs as compensation!”

Jihyo: "See ya tomorrow unnie, and be one time okay, don’t leave me hanging!"

THE NEXT DAY

DING DONG

.

.

SQUEAK

Jihyo: “Well look who’s finally here, it’s cool, you’re only late for like two hours in a half. What took you so long?"

Nayeon: “I got up late, I accidentally bump myself to Kookeu’s plate, he made a mess, I gotta clean it, then I had to change, eat my food and...“

Jihyo: "Okay okay, sheesh unnie, you’re like a kid sometimes, gotta be more careful with your stuffs, I can’t believe we used to live in the same dorm back then”

Nayeon: "Oh my god MOM, stop nagging and let me in, I got you pizzas, ain’t that enough?"

Jihyo: "Seriously unnie, you’re a handful, come on in, don’t want you to make more noises outside”

Jihyo and Nayeon set up their picnic table and turning on Netflix, Nayeon wants keep binging Arcane but Jihyo wants to watch REAL STEEL, but they end up choosing Transformers instead.

Halfway through the movie, both of them already finished their food, Jihyo is sitting down on the floor while Nayeon is lying on the sofa, but suddenly jihyo pauses the movie and turns to Nayeon.

Nayeon: “Hey? What happened? We’re about to see those Deceptive...whatever those guys name are!”

Jihyo: "You wanna see the “souvenir“ I wanna show you unnie? It’s gonna turn things up a notch hehe.“

Nayeon: "Whatever Jihyo, show it to me quick so I can keep watching fighting robots!"

Jihyo: "Gimme a sec, you’ll love it hehe~”

Jihyo walks fast to her room and pull out her Ipad, and then walks back again to Nayeon where she lazily gets up from the sofa

Nayeon: "Don’t tell me you’re gonna show me that episode of Seobja. I watched it already.”

Jihyo: "Oh no, this is wayyy better than that, just open the video and see for yourself“ Jihyo said while smiling wide.

The clip starts and Nayeon leaned back in the cushion.

Nayeon: "Hey wait a minute, is this some sort of...what is it .. oh yeah Muay Thai training? Why are those guys...half naked? And why are you in the middle of those four?"

Jihyo: "Keep watching unnie.”

Nayeon and Jihyo keep on watching.

The clips recorded Jihyo’s entire “training” with the four guys, each of them fucking her holes out while Nayeon gasping, her hearts beating fast each second seeing Jihyo being ravaged in many positions.

The clip ends with Nayeon, eyes widening, still quite shocked from what she just watched Nayeon: "So...you’re telling me...that delays you told us was a lie? And you got fucked? By all those guys? Even that cameraman?"

Jihyo: "Yep! All my holes were filled! I accidentally kicked the trainer in the nuts and blew him out first for compensation, the other guys joined and yeh, all my holes were wrecked and filled. My body smelled like cum walking out that facility that day, I was goddamn sore too but it was worth it hehe.”

Nayeon: "Isn’t that why you said you’re “extra happy” finishing the filming over there and somewhat “high adrenaline“.

Jihyo: “Yup! Don’t you see, those guys are so buff and high stamina they kept fucking me for rounds lol I didn’t even want them to stop but we had to wrap up and they all K.Oed after that last bit, so I had to leave right after. But I got their numbers.“

Nayeon: "Their numbers?"

Jihyo : “Yeh, I still chat to them once in a while, they’re cool dudes, fuck good, nice personality, so why not hehe. Aren’t you jealous I got to spend time with some buff dudes stretching my holes out? (Giggles)”

Nayeon: "No I'm nottt !! But well yeh I do, I haven’t fucked in a while now, comebacks and all...you make me feel horny !!"

Jihyo: "Oh I know you’re always horny for buff guys, but I don’t think you can handle these ones, you’re so...soft~”

Nayeon: "Excuse me! I can handle dicks okay, you’re not the only one who does workout regularly, I'm tough too ya know! Don’t you see how well maintained I was during comebacks, and I still am okay!”

Jihyo: "Well alright then, you wanna compete? Whoever has a better sex tape gets to pay the other person’s rents for three months! I bet ya won’t even last that long with those guys let alone being fucked in all your holes.”

Nayeon: “Oh yeah? You’re on! Gimme their location and I'll prove you soooo wrong !! You’re gonna regret challenging Im Nayeon for this !!!”

Jihyo: “DEAL!"

LATER THAT NIGHT

Jihyo (texting) “ hey guys what’s up!"

Anurak: "Well isn’t it our “friend” Twice Jihyo! What’s up!"

Chakan: "Are you gonna “ visiting” us again?"

Chalerm: "please?"

Jihyo: "lol no, I have bad news for you. I won’t go there this time, got some schedules coming up “

Anurak: "Oh..ok..”

Chalerm : sad icon

Chakan : crying icon

Jihyo: "But I also have some good news, you know Nayeon right?"

Anurak: "Yes of course! What about her?”

Jihyo: "I gave her your address, she’ll be coming over there around the end of this month”

Chakan: "the IM Nayeon is coming here?"

Chalerm: "Wtf, is it for real? We love her !! Her latest comeback was hot.“

Jihyo: "Ohhh really ???? Well then, I guess I hope you guys will treat her well then hehe”

Anurak: "What do you mean by treat? Like help her practice? For a new show? Or something else?"

Jihyo: ""Something“ else, if you guys know what I mean, and I want you to give her the best “ training session “ you can come up with hehe”

Chakan: "Oh yehhhhhh we will, we’ll “ treat” her very very well for sure “

Chalerm: "We’ll show her some "moves” she’ll never forget”

Jihyo: "lol you horny boys, well then, have funnnnnn”

2 weeks later

Nayeon got off the plane and did her best to call the taxi, finally getting to her hotel.

She dosed off right at the moment her body hits the bed.

3 hours later

Nayeon: "Okay let’s see, this facility isn’t too far I guess, hopefully Jihyo didn’t troll me on this if not I'm gonna wreck her, but first gotta cover myself up, don’t wanna attract too many attention around here.”

Despite the hot weather, Nayeon manages to cover herself enough with a huge sunglasses and dress, calls a taxi and ready to go for the facility.

20 min later

Nayeon: "Oh my god that was longer than I thought, sheesh, in this hot weather I might melt like an ice cream. Thanks for not warning me Jihyo.”

Nayeon slowly walks to the door of the facility and walks up the stairs, suddenly a loud noise startle her.

"BAM” "WHACK” “POW”

“1-2-3 COMBO!"“ KNEE STRIKES!""ELBOW STRIKES!” KICK! ANOTHER KICK!”

Nayeon calms herself a bit, slowly removing her sunglasses, steps onto the mat and accidentally slips on the skipping rope.

"Ouch” - Nayeon blurts out

Anurak, surprised by her voice, stops his other two subordinates : "Excuse me miss? Who are you? Are you here for training sessions ? We’re closing early today so you might have to come back tomorrow. Very sorry about that.”

Nayeon, speaks in a shy voice “ Hi.. uh...my friend...Jihyo, introduced me to the place and said I can give it a try with Muay Thai here...am i...interrupting you?"

Chakan: "Oh no miss, we’re ending our session soon too, so you’re not interrupting “

Chalerm: "Are you a friend of Jihyo? We knew her from her last traveling show. Are you here for that as well?"

Nayeon: "Oh no no! I'm just a visitor, I don’t go here for any show at all, just wanna visit the place since Jihyo talked about it A LOT...I'm Nayeon btw, nice to meet you!"

Anurak: "Ohhhhhhh, you’re Nayeon ???? Like Im Nayeon of Twice??"

Chakan and Chalerm, can’t hide their excitement, speaks out loud in Thai: "She’s here !!"

Nayeon: "I'm sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier, I only want to go on this trip on my own so I had to...you know .. remain quite secretive a bit!"

Anurak: "Well now you’re here !! We three are your fans and you’re our big bias since the beginning, and we love your recent comebacks !!!”

Nayeon blush, shyly reply: "Well thank you! But since you’re closing doors soon, I guess I have to come back tomorrow then? I'm sorry I was late, quite a long flight and hot weather made me fell asleep “

Anurak: "Oh no no, we will still close the doors, but we can give you some extra time! Anything for our fav Twice member!”

Nayeon: "Oh sweet !! But...I don’t have any gears and such...only my sports clothes...is that ok...“ Anurak: "Oh that won’t be a problem, we have everything here! And we have some spare clean trousers for beginners too! If you buy two get 1 free!"

Nayeon: "Oh okay then! I'm gonna go change myself! See you in a bit !

While Nayeon goes to the lockers, the three fighters whisper in Thai

Anurak: "Fuck, she’s hot! She’s even prettier outside than on youtube!”

Chakan: "Yehhhh coach !!! I nearly got a boner hearing her sweet voice let alone seeing her in gears!”

Chalerm: "What should we do now coach, we’ll just “train” her like how we did it with Jihyo?"

Anurak: "just do that first, and we’ll see how it goes hehe. After all, we have ALL NIGHT with her “

The three giggle while Nayeon walking out, in her sport bra and black trouser, ready for action.

Nayeon then goes through the same training routine like Jihyo, but unlike Jihyo, she’s rather sloppy and a slow learner, and it takes her a while for the basics.

Nayeon :” uh .. coach ? Which leg comes in front ..? Uh .. is it this leg .. or this one ?” Nayeon keeps asking while her body shakes in confusions.

Anurak :” oh left leg in front and right leg behind ! Strong stance ok Nayeon ? Don’t twist your body too much . Yes that’s it , now you’re ready for some punches ?”

Nayeon :” uh .. yes coach ..!”

Anurak :” let’s go ! Gives me the hardest one you can go ! “

But even her strikes are quite weak compared to Jihyo.

WHACK

Anurak : "Harder ! Jab straight to the pad !"

THUMP WHACK THUMP

Nayeon : " omg oww !!"

Anurak : " Time for Knee strikes ! Go now !"

Nayeon : " Ok ok I'm trying !!"

THUMP

Anurak : " Faster ! Don't loose your balance ! One more time !"

THUMP

Nayeon : " omg my knee !"

Anurak : " Now give me your kicks ! "

WHACK

Nayeon, after her kick, slips herself to the ring floor : " ouchhhh!"

Anurak : " You're ok ?"

Nayeon : " uh .... coachhhhh !! It's too hard !! Can we please go ... very light & slow ? My body is still shaking from the punches ... "

Anurak :" oh ok. Well then we'll just go very light next round then. Take 5 and we'll continue !"

Nayeon : " uggghhhh... ok coach ..."

Anurak (thinking) : " Man, she is surely different, this is gonna take a while."

An hour passed by Nayeon (talks while panting): "Hey coach, can we...stop and...call it a day? I think...my entire body...is sore now, I didn’t know...Muay Thai...is this taxing…”

Anurak: "Oh sure, I think you’re already had most of the basics already, but it’s a tough sport! Not everyone can do this! Took us a while to get to this level!"

Nayeon: "Well then...You mind...if i...go to the lockers...i need to...catch my breath...and put on...some salonpas”

Anurak: "Sure Nayeon, we’ll clean up the place and wait for you out here, take your time!"

Chakan ( in thai): "Damn man she’s weak, no wonder Jihyo kept teasing her in our chats”

Chalerm (in thai) : “Yeh dude, not sure if she even last let alone...having that “session” with us, unlike Jihyo”

Anurak (in thai): "You two wait here, I'll go in and check if she needs anything, go clean up the gears and wait for us”

Meanwhile, Nayeon sits down on the bench panting: "Goddamn it Jihyo, you didn’t tell me this thing is that draining, how the fuck am I gonna spend...that other session with those three, my body so sore now I can barely move”

Knock knock

Nayeon: ”who’s there? I'm okay no worries!”

Anurak: "Oh it’s me Anurak, just wanna check if anything okay? May I come in?"

Nayeon: "Oh yeh sure...I'm okay...just sore that’s all.. but I got some water and rested a bit...so I feel a bit better now...but my arms and legs are sore ..”

Anurak: ”oh really? Hmmm? You mind if I check if you have any injuries? Beginners tend to have small injuries that they don’t know yet until the next few days so just wanna make sure? Would you mind if I do that for you?"

Nayeon (thinking): "Oh shit, she’s gonna examine my body, but...oh well...I'm too sore to do anything anw...a checkup won’t hurt...don’t wanna spend the next days with broken limbs “

Nayeon: "Okay, if you say so, please do, and please be gentle, I'm very sore”

Anurak: "Absolutely! Now how about you lay yourself face down on this massage bench and I'll take a look okay?"

Nayeon then lying down on the massage table, face down, relaxing herself, while Anurak taking some plastic gloves to start checking, moving his hands to her back and shoulders

Anurak: "Okay let’s see, shoulders are fine, no sign of injuries, also the traps and back muscles, pretty much tense, but no sign of heavy damage”

Nayeon (thinking): "Whew, at least that part done, but omg his hands are big and rough, but...why do I feel .. good letting him touching me...holy shit .. is this the adrenaline thing Jihyo talks about?"

Anurak, slowly moving his hands down to her pelvis, smoothly checking her lumbar spines, then moves slowly to her hamstrings and butt cheeks, feeling her soft pale skin, down to her calves. He does it slowly like he’s treating a national treasure, moving his hand on her slim frame just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything

Anurak: “Okay so, hamstrings are okay, tense but no tear whatsoever, same with calves, firm .. sorry, tense but no damage, nothing much beside tense muscles, I think this side of yours are FINE Nayeon”

Anurak(thinking) : “Damn fine too, fuck, I might have a huge boner touching her like this, her ass and skin are fuckin hot”

Anurak: “would you mind if I check your front too Nayeon? Would be good if I can touch...i mean check on if there’s any injuries?"

Nayeon: "Oh .. sure...you can touch...i mean check my front too, please”

Nayeon (thinking): "Holy fuck, my heart is racing, only his hands already made me feel like this, shit, no wonder Jihyo let them fuck her all the way, and I'm not gonna lose to her. Fuck, I think I can handle this.”

Nayeon rolls to the front, and Anurak continues with his "Checkup” by moving his hands slowly from her neck lines, and then to her skinny biceps, and lastly, to her meaty thighs. Each parts Anurak takes his time to savor the fairness of her skin while...doing his best to control his huge boner.

Anurak (thinking): "At this rate I might as well fuck her for real, just like how Jihyo did, but I can’t let it be too obvious, gotta stay calm.”

Anurak: "Okay Nayeon, can you lift your legs up and bend your knees? So I can check if you have any tear in your meniscus and such?"

Nayeon: "Okay sure”.

She slowly does it, exposing the curvy underside of her legs, making Anurak’s eyes drooling with lust

Nayeon: "Am I all good? Did I tear anything?”

Anurak, snaps back to his reality: "oh yes.. I mean No, nothing serious Nayeon, you’re only having tense muscles that’s all, no sign of injuries or anything too serious, if you rest up a few days you’ll be good”

Nayeon: "Okay, phew, I thought that training nearly drained the hell out of me, but I'm feeling better hearing that. Thanks Anurak”

But suddenly, Nayeon’s palm, while trying to get up, grab onto something that is both soft and hard at the same time. She turns to her left, her tiny palm is on top of Anurak’s bulge, and it’s getting bigger the more she holds it

Nayeon: "Oh shit, sorry Anurak I didn’t mean to!”

Anurak: "It’s okay Nayeon !! It’s an accident, no need to be shame about it ,it’s not that you INTENTIONALLY touch it”

Nayeon: "What should I do, sheesh my clumsy hands, I'll make it up to you then, this is awkward!”

Nayeon keeps talking while Anurak’s bulge are gettin bigger

Anurak: "Well, there’s this “ exercises “

Nayeon: "Will that help you to, you know, calm down? If so I'm gladly to help, you helped me checking up on my body, it’s my turn to return the favor”

Anurak: "Sure Nayeon, we can start...with you helping me removing my trouser”

Nayeon ( thinking): "Hell yeh, let’s see how big his dick is, I'm dying to see it like forever now” Nayeon and Anurak slowly move to the locker bench, and in one sweep she removed his trousers easily, making his dick pop out, tapping her face a bit, making her giggles cutely

Anurak, using his best to speak calmly: "Okay Nayeon, now what I want you to do is to use your palm and move slowly along my dick, it will "help” me calm down and I will ease up from the bone...tense here.”

Nayeon (thinking): "this guy lol, he thinks idk how to stroke a dick? Ain’t the first time I'm doing this, especially in lockers, alright then, I'm gonna give him the real POP of his life”.

Then, not wasting any time, Nayeon moves her palm slowly along his dick, at first gentle, back and forth, touching his balls along the way, but in time, she picks up the pace, forcefully bobbing her head up & down.

Anurak: “Fuck Nayeon, holy shit, did you try this technique before? Or are you just being a quick learner?”

Nayeon: "Oh I know this technique coach, I already did this MANY times.”

Anurak: "Well then, I guess you...know what to do next? It would help A LOT more.”

Nayeon: "Oh sureeeee, I'll help you eaaaaasseee up your tenseness, you will love itt!!!”

Suddenly, Nayeon, in a quick succession, open her mouth and starts wrapping her sexy lips onto his big cock, moving her head in and out to his crotch, sucking deep strokes to the base of his dicks, deep throating herself while looking up to Anurak’s pleasure filled face

Anurak (thinking ): "Fuck, holy shit she’s good, she’s too good, could be even better than Jihyo, holy fuck I don’t think I'll last long, she’s too good at this”

Nayeon, continues her blows, teasing Anurak by slowly pulling out from his dick, then suck it straight in again. She does it so quickly that Anurak starts to moan out loud in his own language

Anurak: "Fuccck Nayeon, I'm gonna .. I'm gonna cum...can’t hold it much longer...fuckkk ..!!” And in blink of an eye, Anurak pulls out his dick, stroking himself heavily, cumming hard onto Nayeon’s beautiful face, onto her nose, cheeks and onto her opening tongue, leaving huge blobs of cum onto Twice’s center.

Nayeon, taking her fingers and taste the cum on her face: "Oooh, you taste good coach !! I like itttt! Did it help you to ease up your tenseness?"

Anurak, panting hard while dropping his butt straight down to the bench, speaks out: "Yess .. Nayeon .. omg...it’s too good...oh fuck.. you made me cum...very hard...how did...you do that..”

Nayeon: "I have my ways, and I definitely knows it better than Jihyo (laugh out loud)

“Then you wouldn’t mind try it on us too?"

Suddenly a voice coming up, it’s Chakan and Chalerm, standing over the far right lockers, with their hard dicks out in the air, trousers down to their ankles, stroking them hard with their hands

Nayeon: "Wait, you guys were here all this time? When?"

Chalerm: "We were standing here since coach knocked on the door to check you out, we just sneaked in and been staying behind these lockers”

Chakan: "You’re too hot Nayeon, you’re our bias and we‘ve been fanboying you hard since the beginning, seeing you coming through the doors just making us do horny for you! You’re too pretty and too hot in those gears”

Anurak, still panting, but speaks out slowly: "They’re right Nayeon...since the day...jihyo sent us notices .. that you’ll come here...We were too excited...we couldn’t train properly…. We couldn’t resist you...let alone...seeing you in here...training...while wearing those gears...”

Chakan: "Coach is right...we intentionally closing the facility sooner than usual just to let you spending time with us only, we don’t wanna miss this chance”

Nayeon: "So Jihyo already let you know about my flight? And my visit here? So you were just pretending to be surprised all this time without telling me?"

Chalerm: "We’re sorry, it just, you’re a big star and we don’t have time to travel to see you in concert, and we couldn’t spend that much money for front seats, so this might be our only chances seeing you...we’re very sorry we didn’t tell you”

Nayeon, stays quiet for a bit, the atmosphere in the room suddenly getting tense due to it, making the three fighters feeling awkward, but out of the sudden Nayeon giggles and then laugh out loud.

Nayeon: "Oh my gosh guys, you could’ve said it earlier!!! Sheesh, the reason why I got here was because I saw your vid fucking the hell out of jihyo in all her holes, fuck that was hard, I even asked her to let me save that clip so I can touch myself to if, you guys are buff and hot as fuck, definitely my types hehe~”

Anurak: "So you’re saying, you’re kinda knew this all along? But you’re also kinda go with the flow?"

Nayeon: "Duhhh! I was afraid those tense trainings gonna let me waste my time dragging my lazy self here, but then seein your dick and these two dicks making me wayyyyyyy better now !! Don’t you see how I suck your dick? I just wanna compete with Jihyo who’s gonna last and make the best out of this, therefore, don’t hide anything from me anymore got it?"

Chakan: "So...Nayeon .. will you...uh...you know...let us do the “training” with you the way we did with Jihyo?"

Nayeon: "Hell yeah!" I'm here to get fucked, and I won’t leave the place until my holes are FUCKED properly, so yeh, do your best, I'm gonna stay as much as I want to here”

Chalerm: "Wooooaaaaa,fuckk yeahhh””

Nayeon: "But first, you guys have a shower here? I wanna get out of this mess, and it’s fuckin hot, so I'm gonna really need that shower, asap”

Anurak: "Sure! There’s a shower next to the lockers, right on your left, we’ll let you go clean up and...”

Nayeon, cut his words by putting her fingers onto his mouth, smiling widely: "I didn’t say I'll go alone did i? So...don’t you wanna join me?"

All three together: "FUCK YEAH”

Nayeon laugh a bit, and then rises up walking fast towards the shower, intentionally wiggling her ass for the three guys to see, trying to partially do her ABCD dance, albeit more lewd and sexually teasing.

Nayeon then removing her sports bra, turning her head back a bit to blow an air kiss to the guys, taking her left hand to cover her tits, with her fingers making signs for the three to follow.

The three guys, getting too horny, ripping out their clothes and following her straight to the shower, where Nayeon standing there, trousers down to her feet and starting to removing her underpants, showing them her entire naked body, with her fair skin "Decorated “ by the water running all over from head to toes, her round tits showing, her sexy tummy and her pussy lips baring, and her plump cheeks are waiting to be fucked.

The three guys are getting too horny, rip out their clothes and follow her straight to the shower, where Nayeon is standing there, trousers down to her feet and starting to removing her underpants, showing them her entire naked body, with her fair skin "Decorated “ by the water running all over from head to toes, her round tits showing, her sexy tummy and her pussy lips baring, and her plump cheeks are waiting to be fucked.

As Nayeon turns on the the water knob for some cold water, since it helps to ease up the muscle soreness, she turns back, bare all naked in front of the guys, asking them : “The water is quite cold, don’t you guys wanna "Heat “ it up with me? Don’t leave a girl waiting !!”

The three, can’t control their bodies, starting to reach their hands out to Nayeon body, groping her juicy thighs, moving their large palms to her tits and groping them, while some other hands moving along her back, straight to her abs and waist.

Another pair of hands, kneading her plump butt cheeks, while moving down to her soft pussy, somewhat fingering the her entrance, and of course, that tiny anus of her, even with the slippery water their hands don’t seem to have any troubles grabbing her body parts, making Nayeon moans.

Nayeon (thinking): "Omg, their hands are groping me...so good...they’re gonna fuck me hard and I want i...you wait jihyo...I'm gonna drain these guys as hard as you do.. BUT BETTER”

Nayeon then suddenly drops down to her knees, with water keep pouring onto her body, looking at the three hard dicks in front of her and sharing a smile.

With that, she starts using her tiny palms to touch each of the shafts simultaneously, with her fingers moving along the lengths, starting from the tip to the bases of their dicks, and she doesn’t forget grabbing their balls either, making the guys moans with each strokes.

Nayeon, with the best of her abilities, opens her mouth widely and wraps to a dick on her left, sucking it in and out in long strokes, while her hands still massaging the other dicks to get them prepared.

After a few sec, she switches her mouth to the one in the middle, leaving no break time, doing the same thing from the first one, and lastly, the one on the other side. Their dicks are huge, but for Nayeon they are her treats, with her mouth is working tirelessly between the 3 , sucking long strokes and even let herself gagging on them.

Nayeon does her best to mimick Jihyo, not leaving any dicks behind, but since she loves oral sex, she just makes things even lewder, by not simply sucks one dick at a time and alternates between them, but, she opens her mouth as big as she can to suck two at the same time, making the guys shocked to their souls and shouting out: "Woooooaaaa Nayeon, you’re really the best! I...we...we don’t think...we could hold our cum...any longer...!!””

Nayeon, hearing their compliments, pulls out from their dicks and answers right away: "I know I am !! So, are you guys gonna give me, your bias huge loads of cum in her mouth and face or not hehe? I'm waiting!”

The three guys: "Fuckkkk yessss!!”

And with that, they reach their climaxes, starting with Chakan cum straight to Nayeon left cheek and a bit to her hair strands, following by Chalerm on the right side on her cheek and a bit to her forehead, finishing with Anurak going forward to her nose and opening lips

Nayeon, while bare opening her eyes due to the water and the cum, fulfilled her first task of today, even with the water kinda wash away the cum, she doesn’t mind a bit, since, this won’t be the last cum she’ll get for the day.

The three guys helping her standing up, still taking time to recover from their cum.

But then one guy turns Nayeon back to his front, slowly teasing his dick to her pussy.

Nayeon, guessing it’s Anurak ,asking out: "Are you gonna do it? Are you gonna put you big dick inside me?"

Anurak replies: "Yes Nayeon,I'm gonna fuck your beautiful pussy now!”

Nayeon blurts out loudly with no care in the world: "Then what are you guys waiting for?Lunar New Year ???? FUCK ME! RUIN MY HOLES! ALL OF IT! CUM INSIDE AND ON ME AS MUCH AS YOU CAN, I DON’T CARE, I WON’T LET YOU STOP UNTIL YOU FILL ALL MY HOLES AND I'M LEAVING THIS PLACE WITH A CUM FILLED BODY!!!”

Anurak then gives signs for his two men to set up a tripod with Nayeon’s phone, starting to film this entire sinful act that she and the guys will do, per her request.

Then, Anurak, with all his might, starts pounding Nayeon hard from behind, making her from small moans to loud scream, with the cold water pouring down all over the four of them.

Nayeon, in her messy state, screaming out “ HARDER! FUCK THAT PUSSY HARDER!"While trying to lean forward to grab the other two cocks, still stroking while being wrecked by their coach.

Then, Anurak, let Nayeon down to her knees, pushes her head down gently, ass up face down to the floor, put his cock into her hole again and keep on pounding.

Nayeon, feels full of pleasure, screaming out loudly.

Being fucked like this is even better than what she can imagine.

Anurak, getting close to his limit, tensing himself, cum straight into Nayeon’s hole, loudly and proudly.

Slaps her ass a few times, he slowly pulls out, his thick cum flowing out from her vagina, mixing with the water, letting Nayeon stays like this a bit while he backs himself to the wall resting.

Chakan and Chalerm, been waiting for their turns, pull Nayeon up to the middle of the shower place, dragging her slightly so she can walk a bit after the hard pounding.

Then, Chalerm, laying down flat to the watery floor, his dick stands straight up to the ceiling, along with with Chakan, guides Nayeon sits onto his cock, but this time, not into her pussy, straight to her anus, leaving Nayeon eyes rolling out and scream so loud :"FUCKKKKK !!! MY ASS! Fuck my ass !!! Now !!!"

Chakan with his horniness is reaching its peak, kneeling down to his knees, slowly pushes his big dick into her pussy.

At first it was quite hard with the position, but it’s getting easier as Nayeon relaxes herself a bit, and the two guys piston her wildly in tantrum, making Nayeon a mess between the two.

The two cocks keeps on pumping in and out, leaving Nayeon scream her lungs out, while Anurak is standing from the side, taking the camera closely to film their sinful acts together.

Chakan then stuffs his big lengthy dick inside Nayeon’s pussy, taking the advantage of being on top, keeps ramming in hardly, while Chalerm, with his dick inside Nayeon’s asshole, trying his very best to match his partner, moving his hips in and out to feel the warmth of her anus hole.

After a few moments of pumping, they blurt out together: “I’m cumming !!”

Nayeon: "YESS! Cummm in meee !!!!! Fucking fill meee!"

And the two cum straight in her pussy and her anus.

Her holes, tighten up during climax, squirting out and mixing with their juices.When the two fighters both pull out, water just mix everything together into a sinful mess of human fluids, leaking out from Nayeon’s sore holes.

Nayeon, in her messy but watery state, moans out loudly: "Heyyyy, we should continueeee !!! I want to get filled more !!! The water keeps washing away all your cumm leaking out from my holes !!! Keep goinggg, i’m not gonna be weak and losing to Jihyo on this oneeee !!”

Anurak: "Well then Nayeon, we will fuck your holes until we run dry, we will fill you as much as we can! Considering this another training!"

Nayeon, as she’s still sitting butt flat on the shower floor, suddenly being picked up, and the fucking just getting started.

From being pinned to the wall by Anurak, Nayeon is having her entire front being mashed to the walls, pussy being filled and rammed with Anurak’s dick, in and out hardly without any stops. Anurak is also making sure he’s “jabbing” deeply into her tight walls, full of forces and velocity, with his bias moans out his name in between thrusts.

For a moment later, with herself being on all four, Anurak slides in and out of Nayeon’s asshole, while she’s being deep throated by either Chakan or Chalerm in the front, hold on to her head and pump real fast to her mouth, spit-roasting her in cold water.

Being filled like this is exactly what she had in mind even before coming here, as Nayeon is somehow being able to shout out: ”Mppphmm… FUCKKKK… FUCK ME MORE!!! MY HOLES ARE DYING FOR MORE!!!

Even more so, they try to carry her slim frame up, double penetrating her while in the air, with Nayeon is fully panting hard and screaming the highest notes of her entire singing abilities.

Nayeon holds tight to one fighter, her entire body hovers up & down with water is splashing all over her face, while enjoying another dick pokes strongly through her anal hole. Her body doesn’t seem to have any problem with the slippery position, either moving by herself or letting the fighters “jab” straight up her holes.

Her entire vocal is echoing the entire shower room in the most lewd and erotic tone as possible: “FUCKKKKKK !!!! AHRRHRH YESSS !!!! FUCKKKK MEEEE!!!! MY HOLES FEEL SO GOOD!!!“

The three guys, lost count how many times they have spilled their juices inside and all over Nayeon, fucking her all the four surfaces wall in any position they can think of, even at one point their cum are so thick they keep spilling out from her no matter what she does, with Nayeon happily enjoys her fans "Worshiping “ her holes one way or another.

Nayeon’s horniness doesn’t seem to fade at all, but even rise up to a higher level.

Nayeon, somehow still maintains her abilities to collect her thoughts while being fucked, thinking: "Omfg, yess, fuck me you three,...Yess...fuck your beautiful bias hard...ravage my body...I’m winning...yesss...they will keep...fucking me...Until they’re all emptied...fuck...I feel...i feel like their queen now...fuckkk !!!”.

Some few moments later, all three guys, tired and drained all their cum inside Nayeon such, finally putting her down to the shower floor,, all wet and full of cum, sore but filled with orgasm.

The three fighters then walk of the shower, drag their own bodies out to the mat and lie down to it, all naked without any care.

Nayeon then wakes herself up from her entire ordeals, starts cleaning all the mess inside her holes, washes herself out and happily walks out with a towel along her body.

Even after being fucked without mercy inside the shower room, her body, her curves, and her facial expressions are still glowing as ever, making it a challenge to resist her charms.

But suddenly…

BANGGG

BOOM

…the sandbag on the side falls straight to some of the free weights, crashing on some of the equipment and part of the training mirrors, leaving a mess.

The three guys, like having electricity run through their bodies, wake up from their quick naps and ask out loud

"What the fuck was that !???? What the fuck happened?"

They look around, and see Nayeon, with a scared face, both hands are covering her mouth, walks back a bit.

It was Nayeon, in all her clumsiness, leaned onto the damaged sandbag and made the hooks fell off, created all this mess.

The entire room is panicked, with the three guys try their best to lift out the weights and remove the sand from it.

Anurak, in his angry voice, screams out loud: "WTF Nayeon! You should’ve been more careful! This is the last of our equipment here and they ain’t cheap! We’re not as rich as you you know?"

Nayeon, scared to her life, cries out: "I'm .. I'm so sorry…. I didn’t mean...I didn’t mean to .. I .. I didn’t know it was damaged...please...I'm scared...idk what to do...please don’t be angry…"

She’s meekly crying out while her body is shivering

Chakan and Chalerm have to calm down their coach: "Coach, it’s not her fault, we should’ve been more careful too to let her know about that shitty sandbag, it was an accident, look at least the weight are still there and we can replace that part of the mirror, the other equipment, I think we can ask our sponsors for it next month?"

Chakan tries to do his best to calm Anurak while Chalerm holding on to a weakened Nayeon, still crying her hearts out.

Anurak, as he calms down a bit, sit on the bench near there: "Well, sorry I was being sensitive, but it took me a long ass while to get these sponsors and those equipment, I even had to lower my salaries to buy some extra tools, that’s why I'm fucking pissed“

Nayeon, also calms down a bit, walks slowly to Anurak in her meek state: "I...I can...buy you back.. those equipment...I can repay you all that...I have money for those,...I didn’t mean to come here and made this mess...please, it’s a lesson for me to be more careful too...please don’t be angry with me...”

Anurak: "Well.. it’s hard to be angry for long seeing you like this, at least there are some compensations, but we might have to close the facility for a few days to clean up this mess, so there goes part of our salaries”

Nayeon: "I...I can pay for that too .. if you really need it...heck, I can pay your salaries in full month for you three, please .. lemme help, I'm sincerely do wanna make it up for you three .”

Anurak: "Well, that solves another problems, but here’s another thing...I'm angry and we had to do all those extra chores to clean the equipments, we’re all tense again, so...What do you say Nayeon? Any other techniques you wanna show us to?"

Nayeon, suddenly wipes off her tears, her smile is back again, saying it with a rather lewd voice: "Well why don’t you say it earlier? ( giggles) like I said, I'm “sincerely” wanna make it up for you three, any ways you want”

Anurak: ”Alright Nayeon, do it! Show us your last rounds! Take this as penalties for your violations of property damages, let’s get going!"

Nayeon: "right away coach! (Giggles)”.

She then stands straight, throws her towel away, leaving her bare naked again, in front of the mirror for everyone to see, gropes her tits and fingers her pussy to tease the guys.

Chalerm, already knows the signs, sets up the tripod again for another recording, then hurries himself joining the other two as they’re groping Nayeon’s body again, but this is where another fun starts.

Anurak, pulls Nayeon in front of the mirror, describes his rules: “Okay Nayeon, this will be your final lesson and also your penalties, you have to take all three of our dicks, AT THE SAME TIME, while keeping us not cum fast into you, but all over your face and body, got it?"

Nayeon, (pretends to be afraid) : “But coach, it’s too hard for me to hold your cum, let alone all three of you at the same time?"

Anurak: "It’s the rules Nayeon, it’s your challenge and also penalties, you made this mess right? And we already fucked all your holes back there, if you can do this I might really forgive you for your antics, you have to give us three rounds each hole for each of us”

Nayeon (keeps pretending to be afraid): "Okay coach...I'll...do my best.. I already promised...then I will do it!”

Nayeon ( thinking ): "Fuck yeah, that’s it, this IS the main even for today, they will fuck me at the same time while I'm pretending to be this meek self of mine. They’re gonna wreck all my holes, and I'm loving if, fuck, it makes me wanna cum just thinking about it”

Anurak: "Are you ready Nayeon? You’re ready to be stuffed in all your holes at the same time?"

Nayeon (still pretending): "Yes coach!”

Quickly, Chalerm, lays down flat to the floor again, guides Nayeon to face the mirror, then let her sit down straight to his dick in a cowgirl position, slowly pumping in and out of her to warm her up.

Anurak, gets to her back, starts kneading her butt cheeks while his thumb is spreading out her other hole, slowly lining his huge dick into hers.

Nayeon, while already pretty used to double penetrated from their last sessions, still feels so full and enamored with two cocks in her holes, as she’s breathing hard and blurts out "FUCKK”.

While chakan, pushes his dick straight to her mouth, leaving Nayeon finally being stuffed in all ends.

The three of them start moving, like training for their coordination, move in and out of Nayeon’s tight holes.

Nayeon, being stuffed all the way, moans out while keeping her mouth grips on to a cock in her throat.

All three guys are feeling euphoria, fucking their fav bias in all her holes, a dream they could never imagine comes true.

They keep moving hard in tandems, until Anurak gives signs for the other two to switch places, filling Nayeon again for round two with even harder thrusts.

Nayeon (thinking in her messy state) : “ fuck...all three...of them...filling me every holes...I'm full of cocks .. fuck...i need this .. this shit is too good.. I don’t...fuck .. don’t want them to stop at all...I'm feeling so good...can’t describe it...any longer .. I want their cum...so bad”

Round three is starting, with the three guys switch up again, but this time, the hardest they’ve been tonight, pouring their stamina into Twice’s center, all three muscular bodies is really attacking Nayeon’s slim but curvy frame, as if she’s being stuck in a traffic jam.

Nayeon can’t think anymore, just enjoying everything inside and out as her dream of being ravaged by multiple men is now a reality, and even better, being recorded on camera for hours.

Out of the sudden Anurak spills out: "Fuck .. gonna cum...”

Then chakan follows: "Me too.. gonna cum real soon”

And then chalerm: "Me three .. can’t.. hold it...anymore”

Anurak: “ fuck...let’s cum all over her, I wanna see her.. full on cum !!”The three quickly pulls out as they’re all setting Nayeon kneels down on her knees, waiting for the huge blasts of cum preparing for her.

Finally, with Chalerm cumming first, his spurts go straight to her hair, forehead and nose, following with Chakan, streams of cum fly to her cheeks, upper lips, and a bit to her neck.

And lastly, Anurak, spills his huge blast of cum to her mouth, lips, smearing the rest of his cum to her tits, with the other two doing the same.

Afterwards, all three of them just drop their entire bodies down to the mat, leaving a cum-covered Nayeon, all naked, with thick cum covered her entire face, dripping some to her tits, tummy, some on her lower body and to the mat below.

As Nayeon tries her best to remove some of the cum on her face, just barely enough for her to open her eyes, the other three are slowly getting to their sweet dream.

Nayeon, brings out a huge smile then remarks to herself while panting: "Well .. I guess .. this is enough...for my compensations”

A week later…

AT JIHYO’S PLACE

Video playing

"Oh fuckkkk, fuck my pussyyy, fuckkk my asss hard !! Fuckk !!”

Jihyo: "I guess I underestimated you, you really did drained them. Good job.”

Nayeon: "See? They even love me, I'm their bias and they really LOVE me all night, and my holes are just fully filled !!!”

Jihyo: "Well, yeh I get that, but I got fucked by FOUR GUYS and I still can walk around, therefore, I win yooooo!!!”

Nayeon: "What the, who said you win, those three fucked my ALL over their facility, and I even let them have my cum stained naked selfies! I win !!!”

Jihyo: "Nuh uh !! You only had that extra because somehow you got lucky enough they wanted to fuck your holes for compensations!! You were supposed to end at the shower, cheater !!”

Nayeon: "Ain’t no way I'm losing this !!!!!! You’re just jealous because they love fucking me more! I'm their queennn !!!"

Jihyo: "Gosh Unnie!!! You’re just troublesome !!!”

The two of them keep on arguing through the night, bragging about their “ achievements”, without knowing there’s a message appears on Nayeon’s phone.

Message: "Hi Nayeon Unnie, it’s me Karina from Aespa, I heard your stories from Winter, would you mind if we can chat? Thank you so much unnie ”

[poppyquills]

Hello!! I come with more requests and ideas. Vi, Caitlyn and Jinx with a reader who is very ultra fem and barbiecore but kicks butt.. if that makes sense.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ Vi, Caitlyn and Jinx with a feminine! S/O that can kick ass HCs ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

⋆˚✿˖° warnings -> none.

⋆˚✿˖° content includes -> fluff, very silly.

VI

⋆˚✿˖° Vi doesn’t mind your ultra-feminine style at all. In fact, she thinks it’s kind of cute how unapologetically you embrace it. That being said, if anyone dares to judge you for it, they’ll have to deal with her fists.

⋆˚✿˖° At first, she assumed that someone who wore so much pink and sparkly accessories probably wasn’t ready for a fight. She’d been raised in the streets, after all—practicality and toughness were all she knew.

⋆˚✿˖° That assumption was shattered the first time she witnessed you take down an opponent with style and precision. You were a whirlwind of glitter and chaos, and Vi just stood there, mouth agape, as you adjusted your sunglasses mid-battle.

⋆˚✿˖° When you casually complained about your hair getting messed up during the fight, she couldn’t help but laugh.

⋆˚✿˖° Vi finds your juxtaposition endlessly fascinating. The contrast between your Barbiecore aesthetic and your ability to absolutely demolish anyone in your path makes her adore you even more.

⋆˚✿˖° She secretly loves when you show her new ways to accessorize or add flair to her wardrobe. While she’s still more rough-and-tumble than glam, she finds herself wanting to match your energy—just a little.

CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

⋆˚✿˖° Caitlyn finds your ultra-feminine style charming. She admires your confidence in expressing yourself and ensures that no one looks down on you for it.

⋆˚✿˖° At first, she was concerned that your aesthetic might not be suitable for the battlefield. While she never doubted your intelligence or resourcefulness, she thought your style could be… impractical in a fight.

⋆˚✿˖° That was until she witnessed you effortlessly take down multiple enemies while wearing heels. Caitlyn stood there, amazed, as you smoothed out your dress like it was normal.

⋆˚✿˖° She loves how you turn heads wherever you go, whether it’s for your looks or your combat skills. She feels a swell of pride watching you navigate challenges with both grace and ferocity.

⋆˚✿˖° Sometimes, Caitlyn indulges you when you want to dress her up in pinks or add feminine touches to her usual outfits. Although she doesn’t embrace the aesthetic herself, she secretly enjoys seeing how excited it makes you.

⋆˚✿˖° She admires your ability to be unapologetically feminine while also being a total badass. You’ve changed her perception of strength, and she wouldn’t want you to be any different.

JINX

⋆˚✿˖° Jinx finds your Barbiecore aesthetic hilarious at first, especially when she compares it to her own chaotic, punk vibe.

⋆˚✿˖° Initially, she completely underestimated you. In her mind, anyone who spent so much time perfecting their hair and nails couldn’t possibly be ready to throw down. That illusion was shattered the first time she witnessed you in action.

⋆˚✿˖° Watching you take down enemies with effortless precision while rocking a sparkly pink outfit left her utterly speechless. She stood there, wide-eyed, as you wiped blood off your cheek and casually asked if your lipstick looked okay.

⋆˚✿˖° She thinks you’re the most intriguing person she’s ever met. She loves the blend of glam and ferocity and often brags about how her girlfriend can kick ass and look cute doing it.

⋆˚✿˖° Jinx enjoys accessorizing with you and even starts adding little hints of pink to her chaotic style to match yours. She might pretend to dislike it, but deep down, she loves the idea.

⋆˚✿˖° She is constantly inspired by your confidence and duality. Jinx might not fully grasp how you can be so tough yet so soft at the same time, but she adores it and wouldn’t want you to change a thing.

[c0s-lettuce]

Hii if it’s okay, can I please request a Sergei x fem!reader where she was walking home and was in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something bad guys were doing and was in danger, but she was saved by Sergei (the bad guys were on his list so he happened to show up). She meets Sergei again when the same bad guys come after her again because she had seen too much, and he saves her again. Because it seems that the bad guys will not stop going after her because of what she saw, Sergei brings her to his cabin to protect her until he has taken out all of the bad guys? He’s super protective of her and she’s really scared about everything that’s going on and feels safe with him, and after a while of staying with him, they both start to fall in love and she doesn’t want to leave even after everything is safe 🥹

guardian angel - sergei kravinoff x reader

fem!reader, minor movie spoilers

a/n: thank you for the request! sorry this took a while, i hope i did it justice 😭 happy holidays everyone!

word count: 3317

warnings: descriptions of violence, mentions of blood

A shortcut. That's all it was supposed to be - a quick detour down an alley. You've taken it a few times before, usually to escape the rain like tonight. It's a light sprinkle. One that might have been pleasant if it wasn't for the dark and your long day at work. Your walks home were, fortunately, mostly uneventful.

But not tonight. You'd blame it on bad luck. Or fate, if such a thing exists.

Unfriendly-sounding voices should have been your first clue to something being amiss. But curiosity drives you forward. Peering through the darkness, you see two figures surrounding a third person kneeling on the ground.

It seems like a confrontation of sorts, a heavily one-sided confrontation. They don't notice you, so you deem this a good moment to leave. You back away as quietly as possible. But as you approach the street, a black car pulls up, blocking the entrance.

The next few moments pass in a blur. There's a scream. A horrific squelching noise. You look back to see the third person now slumped on the ground. A silver glint in the hand of one of the other men. Two more men exit the car. There's shouting from one side, then both. You realise you've been noticed. You panic. Then, chaos.

You're unsure if you fell or were pushed, but you end up on the ground. You scramble away, and your back hits the wall of the alleyway. Bodies begin to go flying around you. Any attention that was paid to you is diverted. One man is in the middle of it all. He seems to know his way around killing, like a hunter.

Your front-row show is interrupted when you're dragged to your feet. A cold barrel is pressed against your temple. You freeze as you're held hostage. The hunter pauses and turns to you. Four bodies now lay dead, all killed in different ways. The man holding you is the only one left.

"Enough. Stop now, or the girl dies," the voice behind you speaks.

You notice that despite the man's intimidation, fear laces his tone. It's a mutual feeling as you stand silent and wide-eyed, afraid to move. The hunter raises his hands as if surrendering. You're not sure what to make of it.

But you don't get given the time to decide. In the blink of an eye, the hunter pulls out a knife, flicks it out and throws it towards your head. For a split second, you think it's all over. You squeeze your eyes shut. Either by bullet or blade, this is the end for you.

But then, the man's grip around you loosens, followed promptly by a dull thump. You turn around to see what happened. The man lies on the ground, a knife protruding from him square in the eye. Blood begins to pull around his head.

You bring your hands to your mouth and back away from the body. The sight is unlike anything you've seen. You're stuck between screaming, throwing up or passing out, but a voice from behind interrupts you.

"Are you hurt?" it asks, gruff and breathless.

You flinch at the sound. You turn back to look at the owner of the voice. The hunter stands before you, covered in the odd splatter of blood, hair and clothes mussed. You stare for a moment, bewildered.

Once you find your bearings, you reply, "Uh, no… no, I'm alright."

He nods, walking past you to retrieve his knife. The sound of the blade leaving the man's head makes you cringe.

"Sorry," he says, cleaning the knife on the man's clothes, "I would've warned you before I threw it, but that might have defeated the purpose."

You don't respond. Was that… a joke? What are you supposed to say to that?

In your silence, the hunter looks at you again. "You live around here?"

Again, it takes you a moment to answer. "Yeah, just a few blocks away."

"You should get home," he tells you, standing up. "Forget you saw anything."

You nod. That sounds like a good idea. A great idea, even. You force yourself to move, deciding on the regular route home instead of continuing this shortcut.

The hunter watches you pass but speaks up again before you get too far. "I'm sorry you had to see all that."

You pause, taking in his… somewhat considerate words. You glance back at him and mutter, "Thank you."

Once again, he nods, sighing as he looks down at the bodies. You turn away again and continue your way home. The journey passes in a haze, and you immediately go to bed once you arrive.

As days pass, that night feels like a fever dream. Details don't come to you, with everything being a messy blur in your head. It was probably a good thing. However, the only part that remains clear is the elusive hunter.

A tall, muscular frame. Wavy, brown hair. Bright, blue eyes.

You clear your head of these thoughts as you stand and pack up your things. You're the last person left in your work building today, having stayed late to finish some extra work.

Just as you're about to head downstairs, you hear a loud crash. It's followed by more sounds, a mix of grunts, thumps and things breaking. You look around but can't see anything from where you are.

You grow anxious and search your desk for a weapon. You settle on a large paperweight, gripping it firmly and sneaking out. You bypass the elevators and go to the emergency staircase, carefully opening the door and ensuring it's empty inside before slowly heading down.

The sounds have stopped once you reach the bottom. You poke your head out, giving an obscured view of the ground floor. As expected, it's a mess of broken glass and wood. Crimson paints the floor, blood coming from three bodies. There's one man left standing. You recognise him immediately. The hunter.

You let your guard down, lowering the paperweight in your hands. You step out and look around again, getting a better look at the damage. You feel bad for whoever has to pay for all this. You turn to the hunter. He's already looking at you.

"It's you," you say.

"It's me," he replies. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, completely fine. You?" you ask.

"I'm good," he says, looking around at the mess. "We should stop meeting like this."

You let out a small huff. "You're telling me. Who are these people?"

"They're part of a large criminal organisation. Their influence runs deep. They have people all over the continent."

"Criminal organisation…? Why are they here?"

"You saw them kill someone. You're a liability."

"They were here for me? But didn't you kill everyone who saw me?"

"They have eyes and ears everywhere. Must've found out some other way."

The thought unsettles you, and you sincerely hope you won't regularly be pursued by criminals. Suddenly, you miss the comfort of your home.

Then, the hunter speaks up. "I'm Sergei, by the way."

You're slightly caught off guard. But you tell him your name, and he repeats it with a nod.

"You should get going," he says. "The police will be here soon. I'll handle things here."

"Are you sure? This is my workplace."

"I'm sure. Go," he insists.

You acquiesce, collecting your things again. Before you leave, you and Sergei exchange contact details. He tells you to call him if anything happens. Once again, you find yourself walking away from the hunter and a pile of dead bodies he saved you from. But at least now you know his name.

You've been home for the past few days since the building became a crime scene. You gave the police a vague description of what happened, and they haven't bothered you since.

You think about the hunter, who you now know to be Sergei Kravinoff. A Google search and some light stalking didn't reveal much about the man. And with no work to do, you continue to lie around at home.

But one morning, you wake up to a phone call. It's Sergei.

"Hello?" you answer.

"Where are you right now?" he asks immediately.

"At home. Why?" you say.

"Hard to explain, but you're in danger. I'm going to send you a location. I need you to go there. I'll have someone meet you."

He hangs up before you can get another word in. Seconds later, he sends the location for a terminal at the airport. Despite the abruptness and absurdity, his words worry you, so you quickly pack a small bag and head to the airport.

A dark-haired woman greets you at the terminal. You board the small aircraft landed there as she takes the pilot seat. She answers a few of the many questions you have. Sergei has been in different parts of Europe to eliminate this criminal organisation. It seems you have not left the group's radar because they had your address. Afraid they're planning on tying up loose ends, Sergei asks you to go to his safe house in Russia.

Great, you think. This is a totally regular occurrence.

It's a long flight. After hours, you finally arrive, landing on a secluded airstrip surrounded by bush and mountains. Sergei waits for you outside, approaching the aircraft as the door opens.

"Thanks for trusting me," he speaks over the noise of the aircraft.

"Well, you've given me enough reason to," you tell him.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this," he says.

"Don't be," you reply.

He gives you a grateful nod as he gestures with his head. "Follow me."

He leads you away from the runway. The landscape turns forest-like as you walk along a trail. You look around at the surprisingly picturesque view despite the strange circumstances you're in.

"So, what is this place?" you ask.

"I live here most of the time," Sergei explains. "This property used to belong to my mother's family. It's pretty much all I have left of her now."

"Right," you reply. "And do you make a habit of bringing many women out here in the middle of nowhere?"

He shrugs. "Just the ones whose lives are threatened by criminals."

"…Is that a lot?" you ask.

Sergei smirks, leaving your question unanswered as he picks up the pace. "Come on, it's just ahead."

You watch him go ahead of you, letting out a huff at his non-answer as you try to catch up. After a small trek, Sergei leads you to his cabin. It's a pleasant spot, a geometric glass dome surrounded by shrubbery and nature. There's also a scenic body of water nearby. This place would do great on Airbnb, you think to yourself.

You spend your first evening getting settled in. Sergei tells you he's heading to Romania, so you'll have the cabin all to yourself. He makes sure you have everything you need before leaving. He also advises you not to wander far while he's gone, telling you there are leopards, tigers and bears in the area. Well, there goes your Airbnb pitch.

Later that night, you climb to the loft and get into bed. A stranger's bed. A stranger who has saved your life multiple times, but a stranger nonetheless. It's almost dead silent at night, nothing like back home. The rustle of leaves in the wind and the quiet chirping of insects act as your lullaby.

The glass gives you a perfect view of the starry sky as you lie back. With no light pollution, the sight is nothing to scoff at. And after everything that has happened in the last few days, it doesn't take much longer for you to find respite in sleep.

Sergei calls to check in with you from Transylvania on the second day, asking how you're doing and updating you on the situation. He tells you he's on the home stretch, and it'll all be over once the last few people are weeded out. He stays on the call for just a moment longer to tell you a joke about vampires.

Once he hangs up, it doesn't take long for you to become incredibly bored. You do what you can to entertain yourself. You take pictures of the scenery, snack on whatever is available, take naps, and discreetly poke around through Sergei's belongings.

By day three, there was nothing left to snoop. You've looked at everything, from the fridge to the bathroom cabinet. And more absurdly, from the alchemy station to the weapons collection. Sergei doesn't keep many things around, so there wasn't much you could learn from your nosiness.

You wake to a text on the fourth morning. Sergei tells you the job is finished. He's already on his way to the cabin. You let out a breath at the message. It's done. You're safe.

You look around at the space you've called home for the past few days. A strange feeling claws at the back of your mind. A sense of disappointment. At what, you can't yet place. So, to distract yourself, you spend the day tidying. Closer to the evening, you make dinner to the best of your ability with what's available.

Sergei returns and is greeted with the delicious aroma of your food. The smell is foreign to his cabin, foreign to him. You welcome him back, doing a quick once over. He's weary and battered but otherwise seems to be in good shape. And he's incredibly grateful for the food. It's almost amusing watching him eat, like a cat with a bowl of wet food.

After dinner, he's too tired to do anything or talk about what happens next, so you call it a night. You feel bad making him sleep on the couch. You tell him you don't mind him taking the bed. He agrees as long as you stay as well. Neither one of you bother to argue after that.

He passes out quite quickly, sleeping on his stomach with his head facing away from you. You lie on your side next to him, staring at the back of his head. Spending days doing nothing has made it so you're not all that tired. So, you lie in silence, a million thoughts running through your head.

Now that the situation is handled, Sergei will probably send you packing in the morning. That should be a good thing. You can get back to your home, your friends, your job. No criminals after your head, no fearing for your life. So, why is part of you reluctant to go?

You're pulled from your thoughts when Sergei stirs, yawning as he turns onto his back. He settles back down, and you think he's fallen asleep again until he turns his head towards you.

You meet his gaze, and for a moment, you're unsure what to do. You think about pretending you usually sleep with your eyes open to make up for the staring.

But all that proves unnecessary when he smiles and asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply. "Just not that tired."

Sergei nods, also turning on his side to face you. "I'm sorry you got caught up in all this."

"No, don't be," you say. "None of it was your fault."

"Still, I know it wasn't ideal, having to deal with something like this. And having to deal with me," he says.

"Dying wouldn't have been ideal," you tell him. "And I've been hiding out here the whole time, doing nothing. If anything, you're like my guardian angel."

He laughs, "That's one way to put it."

You smile back, and the two of you fall into a moment of silence.

"Thanks for looking after the place, by the way," he says.

"What? You mean leeching off of you for four days?" you reply.

He lets out an amused scoff. "I mean for cleaning up and making dinner. Especially the dinner part."

You nod. "It's the least I could do."

"I don't think I've had a proper home-cooked meal in years," he says. "The last time must have been when I still lived with my mother."

You pause for a moment, taking in the information. "No other cooks in the family?"

"No, my father never cooked," he replies. "He would make some poor, overworked chef do it."

You hum in response. "So, you've got low standards? That's a good thing for me then."

Sergei chuckles, appreciating your comment. The two of you stay awake for a while longer. Sergei tells you more about his childhood, his family, the accident that changed him, and his life after he left to be on his own. You also tell him about your past, which paled in comparison to his, but he seemed to appreciate it regardless.

His hand wanders under the sheets as the two of you talk, coming to rest on your waist. His thumb idly strokes your side. He listens to you intently and laughs at any funny parts you share. As his touch grows bolder, he pulls you closer, moving his arm to wrap around you.

You happily accept his embrace. Soon, the warmth of being in his arms and the comforting sound of his voice lull you to sleep. Sergei watches as you drift off. Out like a light. Adorable.

His mind thinks back to the first night you met. He remembers how scared you were, how you looked at him when your life hung in the balance. He felt sorry for you, a poor woman caught up in a mess that wasn't hers.

Sergei doesn't know why you trusted him so quickly, but he's glad you did. He's glad that you're here now with him. He's glad for it all. He realises then how nice it is to have someone to come home to. Someone who cares. Someone he can talk to other than his pilot or his brother.

He wonders what you think. He hopes you feel something similar. You must, right? Though there's a very good chance you think he's a lunatic, and you've just been humouring him. But he tells himself not to overthink, closing his eyes and holding you a little tighter as he waits for sleep.

When you wake in the morning, Sergei is already up, preparing a simple breakfast for the two of you. You eat together, engaging in light conversation. Despite your unspoken reluctance to leave, you know you must return to your life sooner or later.

He helps you pack up after breakfast, and you head to the airstrip. Sergei's pilot picks you both up, and you sleep most of the way back on the aircraft. After a smooth ride, you finally make it back home.

Sergei goes with you all the way back to your place. You open the front door and take a look around. Everything is how you left it, thankfully. Getting back to see your home trashed would have really soured your mood. You step in, place your bag down and let out a sigh. You're ready to continue sleeping, but your stomach rumbling redirects your priority.

Sergei leans against the door frame, watching you. He must have heard the evidence of your hunger because he chuckles. You turn to send him a glare, but he speaks up first.

"If you're up for it, I know a place. Good food, great music," Sergei says.

"Really? I thought you'd be happy to finally get rid of me," you reply.

Sergei snorts, shaking his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. I haven't actually gotten to spend that much time with you."

You're tempted, very tempted. But you pretend not to be. "As long as it's not in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country."

He laughs. "It's not. It's a normal restaurant. I promise."

You let out a sigh, feigning exasperation. "Alright, I trust you."

Sergei grins, pushing himself off the door frame. "Great, let's go."

➸

[dollarbils]

maybe just fuck off | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

masterlist

her hands were tracing your hips, her body pressed firmly against yours as you pushed yourself against her, while her tongue explored your mouth. your hands were deep at the roots of her black hair, tugging when her fingers grazed your heat.

“mm, fuck.” your gasps were mumbled by her relentless kisses. she wouldn’t let go of you, wouldn’t give you a break. she was ready to devour you completely. and when your phone rang, picking it up wasn’t an option, as the continued ringing soon became a blur as your mind became foggy.

but then it rang for a second time, a slight annoyance creeping in, settling between the two of you. and then it rang for a third time.

“oh my god. who the fuck is calling you?” billie urged you to check, and you recognised the number to be your best friend. she kissed down your jaw and on your neck, leaving wet bites here and there.

“it’s my friend.” you waited for her to respond, not knowing if this was really the right time to pick up.

“answer it.” her annoyed tone evident when she spoke. but she just continued sucking the skin of your neck.

“yeah?” you spoke into the phone, before billie lifted her head to put the call on speaker, returning to your chest soon after.

“finally, i called three times.” her voice rang loudly through the phone speaker, startling the both of you.

“yeah, we know.” billie mumbled, but it was still audible. her lips on your neck made it almost impossible to focus on the call. your friend rambled on about billie’s tone and how she didn’t know you were together but that it was important, you weren’t really listening.

“well? what is it then?” you grew impatient, wanting billies warm lips back on yours. clearly she felt the same as she saw this as a chance to kiss you again, anticipating a long speech about whatever problematic your friend was so eager to share.

“i can hear you guys making out, it’s fairly disturbing.” the both of you froze, and when billie opened her mouth to speak, you weren’t quite quick enough to stop her.

“well maybe just fuck off then. we’re busy.” you slapped her arm when she said this, her words uncalled for.

“billie!” you scolded before returning to the call, “im sorry you said it’s important, go on?” you reverted your attention back to your friend, holding your hand up to billies face in a gesture for her to shut up.

“it’s not that important, i just called to ask if you’ve been on any of your socials recently?” her tone was leading towards something negative.

“uhh no?” billie reached for her phone to check what she was talking about, the both of you wondering what could be so bad.

“holy fuck, my phones blowing up! it was on mute the entire time but i’ve got like millions of notifications.” she quickly unlocked it to see what was going on.

“someone leaked a photo of you guys kissing.” your friend explained to you. your relationship wasn’t exactly public but naturally there were rumours already, it’s not like it was the end of the world.

“shit.” you leaned closer to billie, aiming to see what she had displayed on your phone.

“ew what a creep, that’s in my fucking kitchen!” you gasped when she showed you the picture.

“god everyone needs to just fuck off!” she huffed while you thanked your friend and ended the call. “i’m sorry baby. you don’t deserve some creep camped out in your garden taking photos of us. i’ll have my security system installed at yours.” she pecked yours lips as she apologised.

“don’t worry, bils. i look good in the photo so what do i care?” she chuckled as her lips came back up to yours.

“yes you do, babe.” she held you tenderly as she kissed you again. and then again, and a couple more times until the situation was forgotten.

[millilps]

someone else might've said this too (I didn't read the comments) but we see only one place of the entire planet unless there's stuff in classwho that i haven't seen yet. yes, silver trees are certainly a problem budget and cgi wise - creating an alien planet is easy, we've never actually seen one, but trees? we see them everyday. one wrong detail can make them look uncanny and wrong even if it's a small thing. I saw a post about how classic who and most old shows and games fully took advantage of how the tvs were made to make themselves look better than they actually look, but nowadays we have screens with a quality never seen before where we almost can see every minute detail of every single thing in a scene, meaning that those trees would have to be extremely well made to look right. still, could be done, difficult but not impossible.

but... maybe that's how the Doctor and Susan remember Gallifrey. I'm not saying the Gallifrey we see is what it's actually supposed to look like (I too want to see the silver trees they keep mentioning) but what if, since they haven't been there in a long time, they have a memory of Gallifrey through the lenses of nostalgia?

from The Sensorites (transcript):

as the First Elder says, it's clear that Susan misses Gallifrey and describes it in the way she remembers it, and since it's been ages since they've seen it, Susan was most definitely even younger than she was at the start of the show, maybe even a child, meaning she saw the world in a different way than she does when we meet her.

she remembers the planet through the eyes of a kid who grew up there and then left. I grew up and still live in a small town that has pretty much nothing interesting, some events every now and then, but it's certainly not a place for teens and kids. and yet, when I'm not there, when I'm in a big city, I miss this small place with all the trees and the nature and the faces I know even if I like living in a big city, so what if it's the same for them? missing a place/person/thing can make you remember it/them in a way that is not completely incorrect but is also filtered through nostalgia, giving you a slightly distorted version of the memory. meaning that it might not be a fully reliable source

the same principle can be applied to the Doctor. they left together so it's been the same time since they saw it for both and, important detail, the Doctor keeps losing their memories from regeneration to regeneration so the smaller details about Gallifrey could be long forgotten. sure, the Doctor went back multiple times after Susan - both willingly and not, Susan possibly also went back at some point but it's not confirmed anywhere yet - but that doesn't make their memories any more reliable, I mean, look at 8 and 13 barely remembering who they are! I would not trust their brains with the description of a place I've never seen when they can't even remember their names.

anyway, BBC give us the trees with silver leaves and the burnt orange night skies since you're not giving us Susan, please.

craziest shit about seeing gallifrey in the new series is fhey talk about how pretty and breathtakingly beautiful it is and how there’s silver trees reflecting the two suns & then we get a look at it and it’s just fallout 4 west virginia landscape

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Hello! Could you do a Barty Crouch Jr. x Fem! Potter! Reader.

Where they are both in Ravenclaw and get close and end up dating in secret because of the Slytherins and the marauders. But then something happens and they break up but Barty shows up at the readers house years later to warn her about Harry, James, and Lily. They rekindle (smut if you write it. Or leads to that?)

And I was thinking about two different endings.

Ending 1: The reader later finds out she’s pregnant and has to raise their child on her own until the triwizard tournament where their child meets their father?

Ending 2: The reader goes to godric hollow that night to try to help them but ends up dying and Barty finds her and holds her?

Or if you like both you can do two different Barty x reader!

Love your fics by the way and I am Hooked to the series!!

Making Mistakes

Barty Crouch Junior x Potter!RavenClaw!Reader

Summary: (See above) After a horrible break up in 7th year, Barty and you haven't spoken a word to eachother. Then, he comes barrelling back into your life begging for forgiveness, will you trust him?

Wc: 16.8k

CW: Angst Heavy. Hurt/Comfort, Barty and the reader are messssy. Sexual themes and scenes. Mom!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Dad!Barty, Non canon complacent, The first part of the fanfiction is focused on the reader- second is focused on Ophelia(your daughter).

The Potter Manor, once warm and full of life, now felt cold and empty. The high ceilings and ornate decorations that had once felt grand now only magnified the silence. The vibrant reds and golds of your family crest seemed muted, much like the life that had once filled these halls.

Your brother, James, was hiding somewhere even you couldn't name- hardly able to visit outside of special occasions. Your parents had been gone for over a year. The house was far too big, far too quiet, and far too lonely. It wasn’t just the emptiness of the space itself- it was the absence of the people who had made it a home. You’d told yourself that time would help, but the grief lingered, stubborn and heavy, refusing to fade.

Even now, curled up on the couch in the living room- the one you used to complain was too cramped- you felt the space around you stretch endlessly. With a blanket over your knees, the fireplace crackling softly, and a book resting on your lap, it should have felt cozy. Instead, it felt hollow. You ran your fingers absentmindedly over the cover of your book, your other hand drifting to the necklace around your neck, the small charm resting just above your heart- a lone magpie. 

It matched your patronus. Well, it matched what your patronus had become. Once, it had been a darling doe- calm and serene, a reflection of your regal- that's what Sirius had said. Now, it was the magpie: small, fierce, and energetic. It suited you, or at least the version of you that remained. You’d felt yourself change, slowly but surely, in the years you knew a love so dangerous it tore off parts of you that you no longer remmebered.

Your fingers traced the delicate charm as your thoughts wandered to the person who had given it to you. Barty. The weight of his name still felt the same, a complicated tangle of emotions that hadn’t untwisted no matter how much time passed. 

You could still see his face the night you’d told him you couldn’t do it anymore. The way his sharp features had frozen, the defiance and anger creeping in as soon as the words left your mouth. You’d said you couldn’t keep hiding, couldn’t keep pretending that what you had didn’t matter. You’d told him you were tired of the stolen glances, the whispered promises, and the constant fear of being caught. 

But you knew now that what had hurt him most wasn’t the ultimatum- it was the fear. Fear of admitting to the world what you meant to each other. Fear of what he might lose if he dared to love you openly. Fear that his world and yours were too different, too far apart to ever coexist. 

Now, as you sat there in the flickering firelight, your thumb brushed over the charm, the memories tugging at your chest. The book on your lap remained unopened as you stared into the flames, the ache in your heart as familiar as the necklace around your neck.

~~~

The flickering candlelight painted Barty’s sharp features in gold and shadow as he lay beside you, his bare chest rising and falling steadily. The heat of your bodies still lingered in the cool air of the room, your skin damp against the soft sheets tangled around your legs. His fingers toyed with the charm resting against your collarbone, his touch so gentle it made your heart ache.

“Crow, can we talk?” You whispered, your voice soft but firm, breaking the fragile silence that had fallen between you.

Barty’s hand froze, his fingers brushing against the charm one last time before he let it fall against your chest. His jaw tightened, his green eyes refusing to meet yours as he shifted slightly, feigning casualness. “What’s there to talk about, birdie?” He murmured, his voice smooth but unconvincing. Unsatisfied your little exercise didn't make you truly forget what you intended to talk about. “We’re here. Together. Isn’t that enough?”

You sat up slightly, leaning on your elbow as you looked at him. “No,” You said softly, the word carrying more weight than you’d intended. “It’s not.”

He finally glanced at you, his expression guarded. “You’re overthinking again,” He said lightly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Can’t we just- can’t we just enjoy this?”

“Enjoy what?” You challenged, your voice trembling slightly. “Hiding? Pretending? Barty, we can’t keep doing this.”

He groaned softly, falling back onto the pillow and running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Why do you have to ruin the moment?” He muttered, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. “We’re happy, aren’t we? Isn’t that what matters?”

“Are we happy?” You shot back, sitting up fully now, the blanket slipping from your shoulders. “Because I don’t feel happy, Barty. I feel like I’m suffocating.”

He sat up abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he fixed you with a desperate gaze. “Don’t say that,” He snapped, his voice rising slightly. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” You said firmly, though your voice broke slightly. “I love you, Barty, but I can’t keep pretending this is enough. I need more. I need us- the real us.”

“This is the real us,” He argued, his voice frantic now. He reached for you, his hand gripping your arm as if holding onto you could stop you from slipping away. “This is how we work, birdie. This is how we survive. You think the world would let us be together? You think they’d let us have this?”

“I don’t care what the world thinks,” You snapped, your own desperation rising to meet his. “I care about us. But this- this isn’t sustainable. We’re tearing each other apart, Barty.”

“Of course you don’t care,” He spat suddenly, his grip tightening as his green eyes blazed. “You wouldn’t. You’re a Potter. You come from your perfect Potter family with your perfect, golden life. You wouldn’t understand what it’s like to have a family like mine- to be a Crouch.”

His words cut deep, the bitterness in his tone like a slap. But you didn’t flinch. Instead, you stared at him, your voice steady as you said, “Don’t you dare.”

He blinked, startled by the fierceness in your tone. “What?”

“Don’t you dare use my family as an excuse to run from what you deserve,” You said, leaning closer. “Just because my parents loved me, just because James and I grew up with something good, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve that too.”

He scoffed, the sound bitter and sharp. “I don’t deserve that. Not with who I am. Not with my name.”

“Yes, you do,” You said fiercely, your hand finding his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “You deserve love, Barty. Real love. Not this shadow of it we’re living in. But you have to believe that, or none of this will ever work.”

He stared at you, trying to read your expression, his jaw so tight you swore you could hear ticking. His grip on you was bruising, but you ached for it. You ached for his want, his desperate need, because without it- you felt like you were falling apart.

You leaned into him, your once hot skin chilling against the air of the room. On instinct, his hands slipped away from your arm and he wrapped them around your waist. Your hands found his chest and you moved all that bit closer. “Wouldn't that be a dream, Barty?” You whispered, voice strained and tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “If- if our kids,” You choked out and his eyes widened at your admittance of something solid. That was your dream. To be so true, so real, that starting a family was the obvious next step. “Our kids talk about us how I talk about my parents? That our son- our daughter- our little wix. They knew what a love like ours could do.”

Your words hit Barty like a physical blow, and for a moment, he looked utterly stunned. His hands on your waist tightened instinctively, pulling you closer as though the sheer force of your desperation could tether him to the dream you had just dared to voice. 

“Our kids,” He echoed, his voice hoarse and filled with something you couldn’t quite place- something between longing and disbelief. His wide eyes searched yours, as if trying to find the certainty he couldn’t feel within himself. “You really think… that we could have that?”

“I know we could,” You said, your voice trembling but resolute. “But only if you let us. Only if you stop running from it.”

He shook his head, his hands trembling where they gripped you. “You don’t get it, birdie,” He said, his voice breaking. “I’m not… I’m not good like you. Like your parents. I don’t know how to be that kind of person.”

“You think my parents were perfect?” You asked, your voice rising in frustration, shaking. “They weren’t saints, Barty. They argued, they made mistakes- but they never stopped trying. They never stopped fighting for what they believed in, for each other. And you can do that too.”

He let out a bitter laugh, the sound almost choking on its way out. “You don’t know what you’re asking. My family isn’t like yours, okay? My father only believes in appearances, in power. He’d never accept this- he’d never accept us. And if he found out…” He trailed off, his expression darkening as a shudder ran through him.

“I don’t care about your father,” You said fiercely, your hands cupping his face. “I care about you. And you’re not him, Barty. You’re not your father.”

His eyes closed at your words, as though they hurt to hear. “I don’t know how to believe that,” He admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to be what he wants, and even that’s not enough. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“You don’t have to be,” You said, your thumb brushing softly against his cheek. “You just have to be you. And you have to let yourself believe you deserve more than what he’s made you think you do.”

He opened his eyes then, and for a moment, you saw the cracks in his carefully built walls- the vulnerability he worked so hard to hide. “And what if I can’t?” He whispered. “What if I ruin us?”

“Then we fight through it,” You said, your voice firm even as tears threatened to spill. “We keep trying, just like my parents did. Just like I know we can. You don’t have to be perfect, Barty. You just have to let yourself love me.”

His breath slowed, his hands sliding up your back as he pulled you into a desperate embrace. His head dipped into the crook of your neck, and you felt the wetness of his tears against your skin. “I do love you,” He said, his voice raw. “I love you so much it hurts. It scares the hell out of me, birdie.”

“I know,” You murmured, your hands threading through his hair. “I know, Barty. But love isn’t supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be worth it.”

For a moment, you thought he might let himself believe you. His arms around you felt solid, grounding, as though he was holding on to you for dear life. But then, just as quickly, he pulled back, his eyes filled with an anguish that made your chest ache.

“I don’t know if I can give you what you deserve,” he finally muttered, his voice trembling. “And I can’t bear the thought of failing you.”

“You’re not failing me,” You said, reaching for him, but he was already pulling away, retreating back behind the walls he had built to protect himself.

“I am,” He said, his voice cracking as he shook his head. Pushing you back and getting to his feet. “I already am.”

You watched, your heart shattering as he put on his clothes, back to you. Your eyes trailed the path your nails made against his back, your silent claim on him that he always begged you for. “Barty, Barty, please.” You sobbed out and you saw how stiff he grew. “Barty, my love.”

“I hear you, Birdie.” He whispered and buttoned up his shirt. Walking back to the bed, but staying out of reach from you. “Always such a beautiful song.” He whispered before he leaned in and stole a kiss. “I'm sorry.”

“Barty-” You strained and he kissed you again. Over and over until he managed to push you back against the bed.

“I love you Birdie.”

“Barty-”

“But I'm.. I'm not who you need.”

Your heart broke with every word that fell from his lips, each one chipping away at the fragile hope you'd tried to build between you. 

“Don’t do this,” You whispered, your voice trembling as tears spilled freely down your cheeks. “Don’t say that, Barty. Don’t leave me like this.”

He closed his eyes as if shutting out the sight of you would make this easier, though you both knew it wouldn’t. “I have to,” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “If I stay, I’ll ruin you. I can’t do that, Birdie. I can’t be the reason you lose everything.”

“You are everything,” You choked out, grabbing his wrist in desperation as he made to pull away. “Can’t you see that? You’re what I choose, Barty. You’re what I want.”

His breath stopped at your words, and for a fleeting moment, you saw the war raging within him. His body was tense, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter. But then he shook his head, his eyes meeting yours with a tortured finality.

“You deserve more,” His voice breaking as he leaned in to press one last kiss to your forehead. It lingered, soft and agonizingly final. “You deserve a love that doesn’t hurt like this.”

“I don’t care about perfect,” Your hands clutching at his shirt as though you could physically anchor him to you. “I care about you.”

He pried your hands off of him gently but firmly, his touch reverent even as it was devastating. “And I love you,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But love isn’t always enough.”

You shook your head vehemently, trying to reach for him again, but he stepped back, his retreat like a knife slicing through the air between you. “Barty, please,” You begged, your voice breaking entirely now. “Please don’t do this.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his own tears threatening to spill, but then he turned away, his movements slow and deliberate, as if each step was a battle. 

He paused at the door, his hand on the frame, his back still to you. “You’ll always be my song, Birdie,” He said quietly, the nickname a bittersweet ache on his tongue.

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the room that still smelled of him, your heart breaking in the silence he left behind. The only sound was your sobs, muffled by the pillow you clutched to your chest, the magpie charm pressing cold against your skin- a painful reminder of what you’d just lost.

~~~

You gave a low shaken sigh. Trying to still your shattering heart and gather your voice before it all became too much again. 

You looked up at the mantle above the fireplace, unable to stop the smile that curled on your lips. The photos, of your parents on their wedding day, of James’s first birthday, then yours. Then a photo of Lily and James’s wedding, of Harry’s first birthday- just three months ago. 

You stared at the photographs for a long moment, your fingers tightening around the magpie charm at your neck. The smiles in the photos were so vivid, so full of joy, that it felt almost cruel. Your parents, James, Lily, even baby Harry- they were all looping so present in the frozen moments captured by the camera. Yet here you were, alone in the vast emptiness of the manor, the weight of their absence pressing down on you.

The photo of Harry’s first birthday caught your eye. His tiny hand reaching for the cake, James’s laughing face as Lily leaned in to kiss Harry’s cheek. You could almost hear the sound of their laughter echoing in the back of your mind, a memory you clung to desperately. 

Your lips quirked into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “James would tell me to get up and stop being so dramatic,” You muttered to yourself, shaking your head. “He’d probably say something ridiculous like, ‘You’re a Potter, we don’t mope, we plot.’”

The thought of your brother’s mischievous grin brought a pang of longing. You missed him fiercely- his energy, his unrelenting optimism, and even the way he teased you mercilessly. James had always been your anchor, the one person who could pull you out of your darkest moments. But now he was miles away, hiding with Lily and Harry, fighting a war you couldn’t see but could feel in every corner of your being.

Your gaze drifted back to the fire, the flames dancing and crackling softly. The silence in the room felt deafening again, the weight of your solitude settling back over you. You tried to distract yourself by opening the book on your lap, but the words blurred together, meaningless against the storm of thoughts raging in your mind.

You closed the book with a frustrated sigh, setting it aside as you leaned back against the couch. Your fingers traced the magpie charm absently, your thoughts inevitably returning to him.

Barty.

His name echoed in your mind, and with it came a flood of memories- his rare, boyish smiles that he reserved just for you, the way his green eyes softened when he thought you weren’t looking, the way he held you like you were the only thing tethering him to the world. 

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as the memory of his voice played in your mind:

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped it away. Crying wouldn’t bring him back. Crying wouldn’t change the way he’d walked out of your life, no matter how much it hurt. 

But Merlin, did it hurt. 

The knock at the door startled you from your thoughts, the sound sharp and sudden against the heavy silence of the manor. You froze for a moment, your heart leaping to your throat as dread washed over you. The wards. You reminded yourself of the countless layers of protection James and Lily had insisted upon. No one with ill intent could step foot near the manor. Still, it took you a moment to move.

Your fingers tightened around your cardigan as you approached the door, peering cautiously through the window. Relief and confusion mingled as you saw Remus standing there, holding a bundle of flowers and looking chilled down to the bone.

You couldn’t help the way your lips curved into a smile, the first genuine one in what felt like weeks. Remus always had that effect on you, with his quiet strength and steady presence. You opened the door without hesitation, the chill of the winter evening brushing against your skin as you pulled him inside.

“Remus!” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him tightly before he could say a word. The flowers in his hands crinkled against your shoulder, and he let out a low, startled chuckle.

“Hello to you too,” He murmured, his arms coming around you after a brief hesitation. His embrace was warm and grounding, and for a moment, you let yourself rest in the safety of his hold. He cradled you like you were something fragile, something he was afraid might break if he squeezed too tightly.

When you finally pulled back, his sharp eyes roamed your face, scanning for any cracks in the mask you hadn’t realized you’d been wearing. “You didn’t have to bring me flowers,” You hummed softly, trying to inject some lightness into your tone as you gestured to the bouquet.

Remus gave a sheepish smile, shrugging slightly. “I thought it might brighten your evening,” he admitted. “But if I’d known the hug was part of the deal, I might’ve come sooner.”

You let out a laugh and furrowed your brow further, unable to help how the cheeky comment brightened up your night that little bit more. “I see Sirius has gotten into you. Come in, let's go to the kitchen.” 

The kitchen glowed softly, the warm light reflecting off the polished wooden counters and copper fixtures. The steady hum of the kettle was a comforting backdrop to the quiet conversation you and Remus shared. You busied yourself preparing tea, your back to him as he leaned against the table, his long limbs relaxed but his eyes watchful.

“You’ve redecorated,” He remarked, gesturing to the new curtains hanging over the window. “I’m not sure the maroon suits the Potters, though. Sirius would call it RavenClaw overkill.”

You smirked over your shoulder, a hint of genuine amusement breaking through the lingering heaviness in your chest. “Sirius would call anything not leather or black an abomination,” you retorted, setting two mismatched mugs on the counter.

Remus chuckled, a low, pleasant sound that filled the room. “Touché. Though I do think the blue adds some warmth. This place could use it.” He glanced around, his expression softening. “It feels different without… everyone.”

You paused for a moment, letting his words hang in the air. The truth of them settled deep in your chest, an ache that had grown all too familiar. “It’s been a bit lonely,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I’m not used to all this space- just me.”

He nodded, his gaze heavy with understanding. “I think they’d hate to see you like this. Especially James. He’d insist on dragging you to some ridiculous Quidditch match to cheer you up.”

You smiled faintly at the thought, a flicker of warmth chasing away the cold for just a moment. “He would,” You agreed. “He’d bribe me with chocolate frogs and promise not to embarrass me in front of the team, only to shout louder than anyone else in the stands. Calling us the seeker twins.”

Remus’s lips quirked into a small smile, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression- something that felt out of place. Nostalgia, yes, but also something deeper, something almost... reverent. His fingers drumming against his cup as he sat down at the table.

“You’ve always been good at making people laugh,” He said softly, his tone different now. His gaze lingered on you in a way that made your fingers hesitate as you poured the tea.

“You give me too much credit,” You hummed lightly, though his words sent a faint blush creeping up your neck. “James is the funny one. I’m just the stubborn one.”

He tilted his head, his smile turning crooked- letting his fingers graze your wrist and fixing your cuff as you poured him his tea. “It's a Potter trait. But I think it’s more than that.”

You turned to face him fully. “What are you getting at, Remus?” You narrowed your eyes, your tone teasing but your curiosity piqued.

He took the mug, his fingers brushing yours briefly, and for a moment, he didn’t reply. He just studied you, his hazel eyes unusually intense. “You’ve always had this way of making people feel seen,” He said finally, his voice softer now. “Like they matter. Even when they don’t think they do.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “That’s… kind of you to say,” You managed, looking down at your tea as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I don’t think I’ve ever been particularly good at- ”

“You're selling yourself short, Birdie.” He chuckled. The nickname slipped from his lips so naturally, so casually, that it took you a moment to process. When it hit, your breath caught in your throat, and the air between you seemed to still.

You set your mug down slowly, your mind racing even as you fought to keep your expression calm. You turned back to the sink, gripping the edge tightly to ground yourself. “...What did you just call me?”

Remus stiffened, and you felt his gaze burn into your back. “What do you mean?” He mumbled, his voice suddenly cautious.

You turned around, your heart pounding- only one person called you by that name. “Why are you here?” You crossed your arms, your voice steady despite the storm building in your chest. “And don’t tell me it’s for tea.”

His expression faltered for just a second- just long enough for you to see through the carefully constructed façade. “I’m here because I wanted to see you,” His tone was measured. “To make sure you were all right.”

“No,” You scoffed, shaking your head as the pieces clicked together. “No, you know I'm not a fool.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. “Why are you here, Barty?” 

His eyes widened, and for a moment, the mask slipped entirely. The careful demeanor, the warm smiles, the familiar quirks- it all fell away, replaced by a raw, vulnerable intensity that made your breath stop.

“You always were too clever for your own good,” He muttered, leaning back in his chair with a resigned sigh. “Guess there’s no point pretending now.”

Your chest tightened as the truth settled in. You gave a disbelieving scoff before you ran your fingers through your hair. Pacing slightly before you paused, a scary truth settling over you. “How did you do it?”

Barty rolled his neck and leaned further into his seat to face you again. His expression neutral- the natural arrogant energy coming from him felt horribly wrong coming from Remus’s stolen face. “What exactly, birdie?”

“Don't play coy.” You snapped. “How did you get as piece of Remus for the potion you used to lie your way past my wards and into my home, Crouch?”

“... I hate when you call me Crouch.” Barty's response was almost petulant, his lips twisting into a pout as he sat back in the chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the porcelain mug he had barely touched. He tilted his head to the side, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you, the faintest ghost of a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“You always know how to wound me,” He continued softly, his tone a mockery of vulnerability. “But then again, you've always been too good at that, haven't you?”

Your stomach churned at the way he looked at you, like you were something to be admired and consumed all at once. It was too much, too familiar, and yet so far removed from the boy you once knew. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, grounding yourself against the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

“Answer the question, Barty,” You said sharply, your voice cutting through the heavy silence of the room. “How did you do it?”

He sighed dramatically, as though the act of explaining himself was some grand inconvenience. “Remus has always been predictable,” He snarked lazily, his gaze never leaving yours. “He's a creature of habit, like clockwork. It wasn’t exactly difficult to collect what I needed.”

Your blood ran cold at the casual way he spoke about violating the trust of someone you cared for. “You stalked him. You used him,” Your voice trembling with anger. “You used him to get to me.”

He smiled then, a slow, deliberate curl of his lips that sent a shiver down your spine. “I did it for you, Birdie,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, honeyed murmur. “For us. You don’t understand how much I’ve missed you, how much I’ve needed you. Every single day without you has been... agony.”

“Agony?” You repeated incredulously, your voice rising as your anger boiled over. “You don’t get to talk to me about agony, Barty. You left. You made that choice, and now you want to waltz back in here, pretending like nothing’s changed?”

“Because nothing has!” He shot back, rising from the chair so suddenly that it scraped against the floor with a harsh screech. He moved toward you, and despite yourself, you took a step back. “You think I stopped loving you? You think I ever stopped thinking about you? Every second, every breath, it’s always been you.”

“Stop,” You said firmly, holding up a hand to keep him at a distance. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to waltz in here, steal someone’s face, and act like you’re some lovesick hero.”

“But I am lovesick,” He said, his voice trembling as he closed the space between you. “I’m sick, Birdie. Sick. You’re the only thing that makes me feel alive, the only thing that’s ever made sense. Don’t you see? I’m here because I love you.”

“Love?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t even know what love is, Barty. Love doesn’t manipulate. It doesn’t lie. It doesn’t use people. Get out.”

His expression switched to one of complete shock. As if he didn't expect to actually be sent away. You turned on your heels and walked down the hall, ignoring the stunned boy for a moment before he began to follow after you, taking a heavy breath. “Baby, birdie, don't walk away. Princess.”

Merlin, you hated to hear that coming from Remus’s mouth. It made your skin crawl.

His voice followed you like a shadow, echoing in the high ceilings of the manor. “Birdie, please,” He pleaded, a mixture of whining and anger that grated against your already frayed nerves. You didn’t turn around, your footsteps quick and determined as you ascended the stairs. “Don’t walk away from me!”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Every part of you screamed to keep moving, to put as much distance as possible between you and the man who was once everything to you. Your grip tightened on the banister as you climbed, trying to block out the sound of his voice.

“Stop ignoring me!” He shouted, his tone sharp with frustration. He was right behind you now, his steps uneven and frantic. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I want to be like this?”

At that, you stopped abruptly, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned to face him. “Do I think this is easy for you?” You snapped, your voice trembling with barely contained fury. “You’ve made it abundantly clear, Barty, that you’ll do whatever you want- no matter who it hurts.”

He flinched at your words, the rawness of them cutting through his desperation. But instead of backing down, he stepped closer, his expression a twisted mixture of anguish and determination. His face flickered again, the remnants of the Polyjuice Potion struggling to hold as patches of his sandy hair and pale skin replaced Remus’s softer features.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” He said, his voice breaking. “I’m trying to fix this. To fix us.”

“There is no us,” you spat, your hands shaking as you stepped back. “There hasn’t been for a long time. And that was your choice, Barty.”

“No,” he said firmly, his green eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a chill down your spine. “You don’t get to put this all on me. You think I wanted to leave? You think I wanted to-” His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists, his body trembling with barely restrained emotion. “I didn’t have a choice, Birdie. You don’t understand-”

“You’re right,” You interrupted, your voice rising. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand how someone who claimed to love me could leave me to pick up the pieces of a life we built together. I don’t understand how you can come back now, pretending like you didn’t shatter me.”

He took another step forward, his hands outstretched as though reaching for something he couldn’t quite grasp. “Because I had to,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Don’t you see? I had to protect you. From my father, from the world we were in. I-”

“Stop,” you said sharply, holding up a hand to cut him off. “Don’t stand there and pretend you were some kind of martyr. You weren’t protecting me, Barty. You were protecting yourself.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he might argue. But then his shoulders slumped, and the fight seemed to drain out of him. “Maybe I was,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I love you. That I’ve always loved you.”

“Love?” You echoed bitterly, shaking your head. “You call this love? Breaking into my home, stealing someone else’s face, manipulating me into letting you in? That’s not love, Barty. That’s obsession.”

At that, something in him seemed to snap. His entire body tensed, and he closed the space between you in two long strides. “Fine,” he hissed, his voice low and trembling with barely contained anger. “Call it what you want. Call me a monster, call me obsessed- but don’t you dare tell me I don’t love you.”

Before you could respond, his knees buckled, and he sank to the stair landing at your feet, his hands clutching at your covered thighs as though it were a lifeline. His chin pressed against your skirt, looking up at you with those eyes a young girl you knew once spent hours of her time lost in. Those brilliant and calculated eyes. Here he was; Bartemius Crouch Junior, with an ego to rival the gods and the mind and skill to back it up- on his knees. Looking up at you like an obedient dog. “How can I not love you?” He whispered. “Birdie. My beautiful song bird. How?”

Your chest heaved as you looked down at him, his once-imposing figure now crumpled before you, hands gripping your skirt like you were the only tether keeping him from falling apart completely. His words, dripping with desperation, clawed at your resolve. 

“Barty,” You whispered, your voice trembling, a mixture of anger and grief thick in your throat. “You need to leave.”

His eyes shot up at your words, his green eyes wide with disbelief. He stared at you as if you’d just struck him, his lips parting slightly, searching for something to say. “No,” he said softly, his voice unsteady but growing firmer. You watched as the full potion effect dropped away. “I can’t leave. Not like this. Not when I know you still love me.”

You flinched, his words cutting deeper with his true voice, but you didn’t waver. “This isn’t about love,” you said firmly, though your voice cracked. “This is about you not knowing when to let go.”

He rose slowly, his movements deliberate, careful, like a predator trying not to spook its prey. He hovered over you now, his height casting a shadow that made the grand staircase feel suddenly small. His hand reached out, trembling as it moved toward your cheek, and you instinctively stepped back, pressing yourself against the banister.

“Don’t,” You warned, your voice sharp.

His hand froze mid-air, his fingers curling slightly before he dropped it to his side. He exhaled shakily, his breath warm as it ghosted over your skin. “Birdie, please,” He murmured, his voice barely audible, his lips forming words you couldn’t make out. His shoulders hunched as if the weight of his own need was too much to bear. “Please don’t send me away.”

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over as you fought to keep your composure. “You don’t get to do this,” You hissed. “You don’t get to break into my home, throw yourself at my feet, and demand I fix you. You’re not my responsibility, Barty. Not anymore.”

His hands twitched at his sides, his jaw clenching as he fought some inner battle you couldn’t see. Then, in a single motion, his hands reached for you again, his movements quick but not violent, desperate but not forceful. Panic surged through you, and before you could think, your hand flew up, striking his cheek with a sharp slap.

The sound echoed in the hollow silence of the staircase. 

He staggered back slightly, his hand flying to his cheek, but instead of anger, a strange expression crossed his face. His lips curved into a slow, almost delirious smile, his chest rising and falling as if he’d just surfaced from drowning. 

“That,” He murmured, his voice rasping with something unhinged, “felt real.”

Your stomach churned, the unease twisting tighter as he stood straighter, his demeanor shifting. His hand dropped from his cheek, and he let out a low, almost relieved laugh, shaking his head. “That’s the Birdie I know,” he said softly, his tone dangerously gentle. “The one who knew what our passion meant- I miss her. Can I talk to her?”

Your chest heaved with the weight of his words, the deranged calmness in his voice sending your heart into overdrive. His smug, unhinged smile made the bile rise in your throat as your fingers curled into fists at your sides. 

“You miss her?” You snapped, your voice sharp and trembling. “The Birdie you claim to miss is the one you destroyed, Barty! She’s the one you left behind when you decided to join them!”

The smile faltered slightly, and for a fleeting moment, you saw something like regret flicker across his face. But it wasn’t enough. It could never be enough to erase what he had done. 

“You made your choice,” you continued, stepping toward him now, your fury overriding the trembling in your hands. “You chose to follow him. You chose to become a monster, to fight against everything I stand for, everything my family stands for. You don’t get to waltz back into my life and pretend none of it happened.”

“I did it for you,” His voice rising, his green eyes blazing as he stepped closer. “Every single thing I’ve done was for you, Birdie! To protect you, to keep you safe, to make sure you’d never have to know what it’s like to be weak. You think I wanted to join them? You think I wanted to-”

“Don’t you dare,” You cut him off, your voice trembling with rage. “Don’t you dare try to make this about me. You didn’t join them for me, Barty. You joined them because you’re too much of a coward to stand up to your father. You wanted power. You wanted to prove to him that you were more then him. But you didn’t care who you hurt along the way, did you?”

He flinched as though you’d struck him again, his jaw tightening as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” He hissed through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t know what it’s like to live with the weight of that name. To have no choice but to-”

“You had a choice!” You screamed, the words tearing from your throat as tears stung your eyes. “You always had a choice, Barty! And you chose them. You chose power. You chose to stand against me, against my family. Against James!”

He froze at that, his eyes wide and his breath hitching as though you’d struck a nerve. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop now, not with everything bubbling to the surface. 

“You think I haven’t thought about you every single day?” You demanded, your voice breaking as tears began to spill freely down your cheeks. “You think I haven’t wondered if there was something I could have done, something I could have said to stop you? To save you?”

“Don’t,” He whispered, his voice trembling now, the bravado in his tone beginning to crack. “Don’t say that.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to say,” You spat, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “You don’t get to tell me anything anymore. You lost that right the moment you turned your back on me.”

He stared at you, his chest rising and falling unevenly as the weight of your words pressed down on him. And then, suddenly, he moved. 

Before you could react, he closed the distance between you in a single stride, his hands gripping your face with a desperation that took your breath away. His lips crashed into yours with a force that stole the air from your lungs, the kiss searing and frantic, as though it was the only way he could express everything he couldn’t say. 

For a moment, you froze, your mind racing as the heat of his mouth overwhelmed your senses. You wanted to shove him away, to scream at him, to remind him of all the reasons this was wrong. But then something in you broke. 

Your hands flew to his chest, not to push him away, but to pull him closer. The kiss deepened, raw and terrifying, a collision of anger, grief, and longing that neither of you could control. His hands slipped from your face to your waist, his grip bruising as he pulled you against him as if he could fuse you together.

The kiss deepened, and soon words no longer mattered. There were no more accusations, no more pleas, just the raw, unfiltered intensity of everything you’d both been holding back for far too long. It wasn’t tender or sweet- it was desperate, filled with the kind of longing and pain that made it impossible to think about anything else. His hands mapped out every inch of you as though he was trying to memorize you, to hold onto something real in a world that had been slipping away from him for years. 

And you let him. You let yourself forget, if only for a moment, what he’d done, what he’d become, and the mess he’d left in his wake. You let yourself feel, because Merlin knew you couldn’t stand the ache of silence anymore.  

It wasn’t long before the tension gave way to something more, something equally terrifying and exhilarating. Clothes were discarded hastily, his lips tracing paths of fire along your skin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence of the manor wasn’t suffocating. It was electric.

You didn’t speak a word to each other the entire time. The only sounds being your soft gasps and his inaudible murmurs- ones that sounded more like pleas than anything else. You couldn’t give him more then that. Words would have only reminded you of the impossibility of it all, of everything you’d both lost. Words would have shattered the fragile bubble you’d created, where nothing else mattered but the two of you.  

When it was over, you lay side by side in the fading moonlight, your bodies tangled in the sheets as the world slowly came back into focus. His breathing was uneven, his hand still resting on your waist as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go. But you didn’t look at him. You couldn’t. You stared at the ceiling instead, your mind a chaotic storm of emotions you weren’t ready to unpack.

~~~

The morning light filtered in through the heavy curtains, painting the room in soft hues of gold and grey. You stirred slightly, the ache in your body a reminder of the night before, but you kept your eyes closed, willing the world- and him- away.  

You heard him moving about, the rustle of fabric as he dressed. For a brief, fleeting moment, you thought he might leave quietly, that he might spare you the agony of facing him after everything that had happened. But then he spoke, his voice low and hesitant, as though testing the waters.  

“I’ll come back later.”  

You scoffed softly, rolling over to face the wall, your back to him. You didn’t say a word. You couldn’t trust yourself to speak without breaking, without letting the storm inside you spill out.  

“Birdie…” His voice was softer now, almost pleading, but you didn’t move. You kept your breathing even, your expression neutral, even as your heart clenched painfully in your chest.  

The air felt heavier as the silence stretched, broken only by the soft creak of the floorboards as Barty lingered by the door. His shadow loomed across the threshold, hesitant, like a ghost caught between staying and vanishing. 

“Birdie.” He whispered, his voice raw and strained, as though dragging each word out of his chest cost him a piece of himself. “One last thing.”

You didn’t respond, your body curled away from him, but he knew you were awake. He always did.

“You have to tell James.” He sighed, the words tumbling out in a quiet rush. “About his Secret Keeper.”

Your breath stopped, but you didn’t move. Every muscle in your body tensed as his words settled over you like frost, cold and unforgiving.

“Barty, what are you talking about?” You finally whispered, your voice hoarse as you turned just enough to glance over your shoulder. He looked so different in the pale morning light, the shadows on his face accentuating the cracks in his armor, the boy you once loved bleeding through the man he had become.

“Just promise me,” He cut you off, his tone suddenly sharper. “You'll.. warn him not to trust them.”

You stared at him, searching his face for answers, but all you found was that same haunted intensity you’d seen last night. He wasn’t lying- at least, not about this. But that didn’t make it any easier to believe. 

“... okay.” You muttered. “I will.”

Barty stared at you like he wanted to say a million different things at once. Instead, he turned, the door closing behind him. You hugged your knees to your chest and willed away as much of reality as possible. Begging for any sense of normalcy to return; even the painful loneliness.

But nothing truly worked.

~~~

As the days went on, the weight of Barty's absence hung over the time that followed like a storm cloud. He hadn’t come back, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or heartbroken. The last words he’d said lingered with you, haunting your every quiet moment: Tell James. Warn him.

You’d followed through on his warning, albeit reluctantly. It had been difficult to convince James without revealing the entire truth, but the grim look in his eyes had told you he believed you, or at least enough to act. 

Nothing happened at first, but Peter was monitored. It didn't take long for everything to come to light; Peter was working against you. It all worked out. James was ready for him that night, the night he came for Harry, surprising the monster before he could act. Peter tried to run after the news came out, but a furious Sirius tracked him down for a confrontation. One with an explosive end for their former friend, nothing left of the boy but a finger.

It did take a few hours of wrestling with the Aurors, but after being proper witnesses and all of your evidence of treason- Sirius was released. Walking out of the holding cell with a smile that could blunt the sun. Lily and James were safe. Baby Harry, too. Relief and disbelief were all anyone seemed capable of, but you couldn’t bring yourself to celebrate. Not fully. Because in the same breath that the Dark Lord fell, Barty was taken to Azkaban.

You hadn’t dared to ask about the details. Not from James, not from Sirius, not from anyone. Knowing felt like it would only make it worse. But the knowledge of him locked away, cold and alone in a place that stripped people of everything, clawed at your chest in the silence of the manor.

You had lost him all over again, and this time, you knew there was no coming back. 

The days that followed felt like a blur of motion and noise, a sharp contrast to the oppressive stillness that had once consumed you. You refused to let Barty- or the ghost of him that lingered in your mind- define you any longer. He was gone, and you couldn’t afford to let his absence drag you down any further. Not when there was work to be done.

You didn’t go to his hearing. You couldn’t. The idea of sitting in that courtroom, of listening to them talk about him as though he was nothing more than a monster, was too much. It wasn’t that you disagreed. He’d made his choices, and the world would see him for what he’d become. But for you, he was still the boy who had once traced your blemishes like constellations and whispered that you were the only light in his life. 

Even now, looking back, you had always known what that young boy was capable of. The signs were there; and the raking guilt of knowing that you were possibly the only thing keeping him from becoming what he seemed so keen on being, taxed your self worth.

So, you pretended that night didn’t happen. That he didn’t exist. The magpie charm around your neck was tucked away in a drawer, along with the pieces of your heart that still ached for him. You buried it all deep, focusing on what you could control, on what you could fix.

Joining the Order to help clean up the aftermath of the war felt like a natural next step. It was what your parents would have done, what James would have done if he wasn’t busy. Saying he wanted to be a proper father to Harry and a good man to Lily. Lily still stayed close, there wasn't many healers with her talent. But James stepped down. It was what you needed to do. The world hadn’t stopped turning, and there were still Death Eaters to hunt, still innocent people to protect, still so much damage to undo.

The first few missions were grueling, physically and emotionally. You worked long hours, tracking down the last of Voldemort’s loyalists and dismantling the remnants of their operations. It was dangerous, messy work, but you thrived in it. The chaos kept you moving, kept you from lingering too long on the memories that threatened to pull you under.

You found solace in the chaos of the Order. Sirius, always protective, tried to keep a close eye on you, though he seemed to understand your need for space. Remus was steadier, offering quiet support when you needed it most, though you often pushed him away. And James- when he wasn’t with Lily and Harry- was your anchor, his unrelenting optimism a reminder of the person you used to be.

But there were moments, late at night, when the world went quiet, and you couldn’t escape the weight of it all. When you lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, and his voice echoed in your mind. When you caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye that reminded you of him, and your heart clenched painfully before you forced yourself to look away.

And then there were the whispers. The Order didn’t really talk about Barty, he was just another cog in the operation, but you heard the murmurs. About his trial, about Azkaban, about how someone so young and clever could have fallen so far. You kept your head down, pretending not to hear, but the words cut deep.

The recklessness came on slowly at first, creeping into your choices like an insidious shadow. You pushed yourself harder on missions, volunteering for the riskiest tasks, throwing yourself into danger with a desperation that bordered on self-destructive. It was easier to focus on the fight, on the rush of adrenaline and the sharp edge of survival, than to confront the gaping void Barty had left behind.

Sirius and Remus noticed, of course. They weren’t blind to the way you flinched at certain names, or how you worked yourself to exhaustion. Sirius tried to laugh it off at first, making quips about how you were channeling your inner Gryffindor ‘under all that Ravenclaw’. But Remus, ever perceptive, wasn’t fooled. His hazel eyes lingered on you with quiet concern, though he said nothing outright. Not until the mission that changed everything.

It was supposed to be a straightforward raid: infiltrate a suspected Death Eater hideout, gather intel, and get out. But things rarely went as planned. The ambush was swift and brutal, spells ricocheting off walls and sending debris flying. You and Remus were in the thick of it, your wand moving instinctively as you deflected curses and fired back.

Then it happened. A flash of green light, too close, too fast. It was aimed directly at Remus, who had his back turned while shielding a fallen comrade. Without thinking, you moved. You felt the spell hit you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs as a searing pain ripped through your side. 

You barely registered Remus’s horrified shout as you crumpled to the ground, your vision blurring. The sounds of the battle faded into a dull roar as your consciousness slipped away, the last thing you saw being his anguished face hovering over you.

~~~

Remus paced the length of the ornate carpet, his fingers raking through his hair repeatedly as though he could scrub away the memory of what had happened. Sirius sat slumped on the sofa, uncharacteristically silent, his dark eyes fixed on the fireplace. The flickering flames did nothing to ease the tension in the room.  

Remus’s chest tightened with guilt, each second that passed driving the weight deeper. He could still see it- the flash of green light, the way you had thrown yourself in front of him without hesitation. The moment felt frozen in time, looping endlessly in his mind.  

“Moony, sit down,” Sirius huffed finally, his voice low and hoarse. It was an order, but not a harsh one.  

“I can’t,” Remus replied, his voice taut as a wire. “She- she could’ve-”  

“But she didn’t,” Sirius interrupted, his tone firm. “She’s alive, and Lily is better then any healer we have.”  

Remus halted mid-step, his jaw clenched tightly. “She shouldn’t have had to save me,” he said, his voice cracking. “She- she’s half alive, Sirius. If anything happens to her-”  

Sirius’s gaze darkened, and he stood, crossing the room in a few long strides. He placed a hand on Remus’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “You listen to me,” His eyes were sharp but his voice was steady. “She’s as stubborn as James, maybe more so. There’s no way she’d have stood by and done nothing, and you know it. Blaming yourself won’t change anything.”  

Remus opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of the front door opening cut him off. Both men turned toward the entrance just as James entered, his face pale and tense. Harry toddled in after him, clutching his father’s pant leg with wide, curious eyes.  

“Where is she?” James asked immediately, his voice sharp with worry.  

“She’s upstairs,” Sirius said quickly. “Lils�� with her. She hasn't come back down yet.”  

The tension in the room was suffocating, the silence broken only by the faint crackle of the fire and the occasional creak of floorboards as Remus paced. Sirius watched James carefully, noting how his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held Harry close. It was subtle, but for someone as unshakable as James Potter, it was telling.

“I need to go to her,” James said abruptly, his voice sharp and breaking the heavy stillness. He passed Harry to Sirius, who took the toddler without protest, his dark eyes wary. “She’s my sister. She shouldn’t be alone.”

“You can’t,” Sirius said firmly, standing up to meet James’s gaze. “Lily said we need to give her space. She’s working.”

“I don’t care what Lily said!” James snapped, his voice louder now, desperation seeping into his tone. “That’s my little sister lying upstairs, Sirius. If something happens- if she-” He cut himself off, swallowing hard as he fought to steady his breathing. “I can’t just sit here.”

“You think I want to?” Sirius shot back, his voice rising to match James’s. “You think Remus wants to? Merlin, Prongs, we’re all going mad down here, but Lily knows what she’s doing. She’ll call us if- when- there’s news.”

James ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. He knew if anyone could understand even a fraction of what he was feeling it was Sirius- you had endeared yourself to him in a way not many people could. And those people were in this house. “She doesn’t get to keep me from her,” He muttered, his tone dangerously low now. “Not her. Not anyone.”

“James, listen to me,” Sirius snapped, stepping closer, his hand gripping James’s shoulder tightly. “You storming in there isn’t going to help her. It’s not going to help anyone.”

Before James could respond, the sound of light footsteps descending the stairs cut through the room like a knife. All three men turned toward the staircase as Lily appeared, her face pale and her expression unreadable. The sight of her made James freeze, his words dying in his throat. Sirius’s grip on Harry tightened, and Remus stopped pacing entirely.

Lily’s hands were clasped tightly in front of her, and her eyes darted between the men before finally settling on James. “Can I speak with you alone?” She asked softly, her voice calm but heavy with something that made James’s stomach churn.

“What is it?” He demanded, taking a step toward her. “Lily, just tell me-”

“Please, James,” She interrupted, her voice breaking just slightly as she glanced toward Harry, who was still nestled in Sirius’s arms. “Come with me.”

James hesitated, his body rigid with tension, but the look in Lily’s eyes left no room for argument. He turned back to Sirius and Remus, his jaw clenched tightly. “I’ll be back,” He said, though his voice wavered.

James followed Lily just a few steps into the hallway before she stopped, her back to him as she hesitated. Lily’s words were hushed and inaudible, even to Remus’s keen ears- or maybe, he just wasn't willing to know just yet.

James’s expression shifted from tension to something unreadable, his brows drawing together as he processed Lily’s quiet words. The weight of whatever she had said seemed to hit him all at once, and his jaw went slack, his eyes widening in stunned disbelief.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a quick glance, their concern growing as they watched James stagger back a half step, his hand running through his already disheveled hair. His lips moved as though forming a question, but no sound escaped. Whatever Lily had told him, it had shaken him to his core.

Sirius shifted Harry on his hip, his protective instincts flaring. “What the hell did she just say to him?” He muttered under his breath to Remus, his dark eyes narrowing.

“I don’t know,” Remus replied quietly, his voice tight with unease. James finally looked at Lily, his wide eyes searching hers for confirmation. 

James didn't hesitate after Lily's nod. He took the stairs two at a time, his worry and confusion pressing heavily on his shoulders. His hand gripped the banister tightly as he moved, the wood creaking faintly under his weight. Sirius and Remus exchanged uneasy glances from their spot by the fireplace, the tension thick enough to choke on.  

Lily lingered at the base of the stairs for a moment, watching James's retreating form before turning back to the room. She mustered a soft, reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.  

“She’s fine,” she said quietly, addressing Sirius and Remus.  

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Fine? You call that fine?” He gestured toward the staircase with a sharp nod, where James had disappeared moments before. “Prongs looked like he was about to keel over.”  

“She is,” Lily insisted gently but firmly. “But James.. they just need to talk.”  

Remus frowned, his sharp hazel eyes darting between Lily and the stairs. “If she’s fine, why is he in such a rush? What aren’t you telling us, Lily?”  

Lily hesitated, her smile faltering slightly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not my place to say,” she said finally, her voice soft but resolute. “You’ll have to ask her yourselves when she’s ready.”  

Sirius let out a low growl of frustration, running a hand through his hair. “Great. Love a good mystery. Just what we need after all this.”  

Remus, however, wasn’t so easily placated. His gaze lingered on Lily, his instincts screaming that there was more to the story than she was letting on. But he didn’t press her. Not yet.  

Instead, he leaned back against the arm of the couch, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Whatever it is, it’s obviously got James in a state,” he muttered under his breath.  

Lily offered him a small, almost apologetic smile before excusing herself, taking Harry from Sirius, as she headed toward the kitchen, leaving Sirius and Remus to stew in their unease.  

~~~

James reached the door to your room, his breath coming in shallow bursts as he paused to gather himself. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find on the other side. The worry twisting in his chest was relentless, and the weight of Lily’s cryptic words only added to his unease.  

He knocked softly, his knuckles brushing the wood. “It’s me,” He called quietly, his voice trembling slightly. “Can I come in?”  

There was a moment of silence, and then your voice- weak but steady- drifted through the door. “It’s open.”  

James pushed the door open and stepped inside, his eyes immediately searching for you. You were propped up against a pile of pillows on the bed, your complexion pale but no longer deathly. A soft blanket was draped over your lap, and a steaming mug rested on the nightstand beside you.  

Relief flooded through him at the sight of you awake, but it was quickly tempered by the shadow of exhaustion that lingered in your eyes.  

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice breaking the quiet.  

You managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Hey, Jamie.”  

He crossed the room in a few strides, pulling the chair closer to your bedside and sinking into it. His hands fidgeted in his lap as he searched for the right words, his gaze flickering between your face and the mug on the nightstand.  

“You scared the hell out of me,” He sighed finally, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You looked down, your fingers picking at the edge of the blanket. “I know. I’m sorry.”  

James shook his head, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Don’t apologize,” He said firmly. “Just… talk to me. Please. What’s going on? Lily said you’re fine, but-”  

“Lily’s right,” You cut in gently, meeting his gaze. You were able to see all the true overbearing nature of James Potter. When you were younger his protective nature used to irritate you- he was always on, all the time, brash and loud- a proper lion. Now? You wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and cry. But that's the last thing you could allow yourself to be- weak. “I’m fine, James. Or at least, I will be.”  

He studied you for a long moment, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of concern and doubt. “Lily said.. you needed to tell me something.”

James tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing as he studied your expression. There was something guarded in your eyes, something that made the air between you feel heavier. His concern deepened when you let out a soft, shaky breath and slowly ran your hand over your abdomen.

The motion was small, almost absentminded, but it struck James like a thunderclap. His eyes widened, his lips parting as the realization sank in. For a moment, he was utterly still, his mind racing to catch up with what you’d just silently told him.

“No,” he breathed, the word barely audible as he leaned back in his chair, his face pale with shock. “No.”

You didn’t say anything, didn’t move, didn’t breathe. You simply held his gaze, your fingers resting lightly on your abdomen.

James swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he asked, “Bambi, when?”

The nickname, soft and familiar, broke something inside you. But you held firm, your eyes flickering away from his as you shook your head. “It doesn’t matter,” You whispered, your voice barely above a murmur.

James’s leg began to bounce, his eyes flickering from you to the door a few times before he shot up from his seat and began to pace. “When did you find out?” He demanded sharply, his voice tight with tension.  

“Tonight,” You admitted quietly, your fingers curling around the blanket on your lap.  

James stopped mid-step, spinning on his heel to face you. “Tonight?” He repeated, his voice rising slightly. “And you didn’t think to tell me immediately? Merlin’s sake!”  

You flinched as his voice raised, but you held your ground, meeting his gaze with a calmness you didn’t entirely feel. “I was a little busy almost dying, James,” You hissed, your voice firmer now.  

He opened his mouth to argue but then snapped it shut, his jaw tightening as he resumed pacing. “Fine. Fine,” He muttered, more to himself than to you. “But you’re leaving the Order.”  

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “As if they’d want me back after that stunt,” You shot back. “I’m not exactly in peak condition for fieldwork, am I?”  

James ignored your sarcasm, his hands balling into fists as he continued his relentless pacing. “Good. You shouldn’t be anywhere near this madness,” He said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “Not now.”  

Your heart clenched at his words, the overbearing protectiveness you’d come to associate with him hitting harder than ever. But before you could respond, he stopped abruptly, his hazel eyes narrowing as a new thought seemed to strike him.  

“Who is it?” He demanded, his voice sharp and almost accusatory. “Who?”  

You swallowed hard, the weight of his question settling over you like a lead blanket. “It doesn’t matter,” You pushed, though your voice wavered slightly.  

James’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he began to pace once more. “Doesn’t matter?” He echoed incredulously, his voice rising. “It absolutely matters, Bambi. You can’t just- Merlin, you can’t drop something like this and expect me not to-” He cut himself off with a growl, shaking his head as he muttered under his breath.  

James's pacing came to an abrupt halt, his hazel eyes narrowing as the pieces began to fall into place. He turned to you, his expression shifting from confusion to a dawning realization that made your stomach drop.  

“The wards,” he said slowly, his voice low and dangerous. “The ones Lily and I put up for you- someone would’ve had to get past them. Someone who knew how to.”  

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as his gaze locked onto yours, sharp and unrelenting.  

“Who was it, Bambi?” he demanded again, his tone deadly serious now. “Who the hell got past the wards?”  

Your throat tightened, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. You looked away, your fingers gripping the blanket tightly as if it could shield you from the weight of his question.  

“Answer me!” James’s voice cracked, a mixture of desperation and anger bleeding into his tone.  

You took a shaky breath, your gaze fixed on the wall as you whispered, “You don’t want to know, James.”  

“That’s not your choice to make,” he shot back, his voice trembling. “Tell me.”  

You finally met his gaze, your eyes brimming with tears as you whispered the name that had haunted you for weeks, for months: “Barty.”  

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your admission hanging heavy in the air. James stared at you, his face a mixture of shock, anger, and something deeper- betrayal.  

“Barty Crouch?” He asked slowly, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak.  

“Barty Crouch Junior?” James pushed and you gave a weak scoff.

“James- yes Junior.” You huffed, your anger boiling over.

James stared at you, his chest rising and falling with the effort of keeping his temper in check. His jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might shatter, but his eyes- those familiar, warm hazel eyes- betrayed the storm inside him. He was angry, yes, but the anger wasn’t directed at you. It wasn’t even directed at Barty. It was directed at himself.

For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the faint beating of rain against the windows. You could see it, the way his hands trembled slightly as he tried to decide what to say. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the silence.

“How long?” He asked, his tone controlled but strained. “How long were you seeing him?”

You swallowed hard, gripping the blanket in your lap. “James-”

“How. Long.” His voice cracked, louder this time, the control slipping for just a moment. He was trying, you knew he was trying, but the weight of everything was too much for even him to hold back.

You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “It started fifth year.” you admitted quietly. “It ended seventh. And he.. he showed up here. He told me about Peter.”

James’s face twisted, and he turned away, his hands dragging through his already-messy hair. He let out a low, frustrated sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “Fifth year?” he muttered to himself. “Merlin, Bambi, how did I not see it? How did I-” He cut himself off, pacing again.

You bit your lip, tears stinging your eyes. “James, please-”

“I..” He started but stopped- as if your tears alone tore apart at his flimsy heart. Closing his eyes and taking a steady breath. “So he made it past the wards. He came and told you about Peter and what? You-”

“James please just drop it. He's in Azkaban for life! It doesn't matter.”

James froze mid-step, his fists clenching tightly at his sides as his back remained turned to you. His shoulders heaved with the weight of unspoken words, his frustration palpable in the charged silence that filled the room.

"It doesn't matter?" He finally repeated, his voice low and filled with a quiet, simmering rage. "It doesn't matter?"

You flinched at his tone, gripping the blanket tighter as you tried to steady your breathing. "He's gone, James," you said softly, your voice trembling. "There's nothing left to fight over. There's no point in dragging this out."

James spun around to face you, his hazel eyes blazing with a mixture of anger, hurt, and disbelief. "No point?" He hissed, taking a step closer. "You think I’m angry because of him? Merlin, Bambi, I couldn’t give a damn about Barty Crouch. I’m angry because you didn’t tell me. You’ve been carrying this- this secret- alone, and now you’re trying to push me away again."

"I'm not pushing you away," You shot back, your voice rising slightly. "I'm trying to protect you! You have Lily, Harry- your family. You don't need to be dragged into this mess, James. It’s mine to deal with."

His expression softened for a fraction of a second, but the anger quickly returned. "You’re my family," he said fiercely, his voice breaking slightly. "You always have been. And if you think for one second that I’m going to stand here and let you face this alone, then you don’t know me at all."

You stared at him, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through your defenses like a blade. Your chest ached, torn between the desire to let him in and the fear of burdening him further. "James, I-" you began, but your voice faltered as tears welled in your eyes.

He closed the distance between you, dropping into the chair beside your bed. His hand found yours, warm and steady despite the tremor in his grip. "Listen to me," he said softly, his tone losing its edge as his thumb brushed over your knuckles. "I don’t care how messy this is. I don’t care how much it hurts. I just care about you."

The dam inside you broke, and a sob escaped your lips as you clung to his hand like a lifeline. "I don’t know how to fix this," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know how to move forward."

James squeezed your hand tightly, his gaze unwavering. "You don’t have to figure it out alone," he said firmly. "We’ll take it one step at a time, together. You hear me, Bambi? You’re not alone in this."

The weight on your chest eased ever so slightly as his words sank in, the overwhelming love and determination in his voice a balm to your fractured soul. You nodded, unable to speak as the tears streamed down your face, and James pulled you into a tight embrace.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to lean on him, to let the walls you’d built around yourself crumble. And as James held you, murmuring reassurances that you would face whatever came next together, you felt the smallest flicker of hope begin to bloom in your chest.

After you recovered, you faced the daunting task of telling Sirius and Remus. Their reactions were nothing like you’d expected. After weeks of being stuffed up in that dingy room.

Sirius, ever the one to surprise you, turned softer than you’d ever seen him. It reminded you of the day Lily announced she was pregnant with Harry. He was standing in the kitchen when you told him, fiddling with a mug of tea. The moment the words left your lips, his eyes widened, and he nearly dropped the mug onto the countertop. 

For a moment, you thought he might pass out, but then his face broke into a beaming smile that almost seemed out of place for the weight of what you’d just told him. “You’re joking,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. When you shook your head, tears welling in your eyes, he stepped forward, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly. “Merlin, you’re not joking.”

“I’m sorry,” You began, your voice cracking as the apology spilled from your lips. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I-”

“Stop,” Sirius interrupted, his tone so warm it took you aback. He let go of your shoulders and instead pulled you into the tightest hug you’d ever received. “Don’t you dare apologize,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ll be a good mum, do you hear me? A bloody brilliant one.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you clung to him, his words washing over you like a balm. “But Sirius,” you tried again, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “The father-”

“I don’t care,” he said firmly, pulling back to look at you. His gray eyes were intense, but not with judgment- only love and determination. “I don’t care who he is, or what he’s done. This baby is going to have the best mum in the world. And they’re going to have me too, whether they like it or not.”

You let out a shaky laugh, his unwavering support lifting some of the weight off your chest. He grinned at you then, that mischievous, boyish grin you thought you’d lost after the war. “Merlin, James is going to lose his mind when he meets them,” He said, his voice laced with humor. “But I’m going to be the favorite uncle, just you wait.”

But then there was Remus.

You found Remus later in the sitting room, a book in his lap, though he wasn’t reading it. His eyes were distant, his fingers absently tracing the edges of the pages. He looked up when you entered, and the small smile he gave you faltered slightly when he caught sight of your expression.

“Remus,” you started hesitantly, sitting down on the sofa across from him. You fidgeted with your hands, unsure of how to begin. “There’s… something I need to tell you.”

He didn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth quirked upward ever so slightly. His gaze flickered to your stomach for a moment, then back to your face. His expression was calm, almost amused, but there was a glint of something in his hazel eyes- something knowing.

“I-” you faltered, feeling suddenly uneasy under his gaze. “It’s… it’s important.”

He hummed softly, setting the book down on the armrest. “Go on, then,” He said, his tone light but laced with curiosity. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied you.

You took a deep breath, the words caught in your throat. “Remus, I-” You stopped when he lifted a finger to his nose and tapped it lightly, the gesture so quick and casual it took a moment to register.

You frowned, your heart skipping a beat as realization slowly dawned on you. “Remus,” you said again, your voice sharper this time. “You already know.”

His smirk grew slightly, the mischievous tilt of his lips catching you completely off guard. “I might,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back against the couch with an air of smugness. “Though it’s much more fun watching you squirm.”

You stared at him, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to process his words. “How?” You finally managed, your voice a mix of shock and disbelief. “How do you know?”

He shrugged, crossing one ankle over his knee. “It wasn’t hard to figure out,” he said casually, though there was a teasing lilt to his tone. “The scent changed a few days ago.”

“The scent?” You repeated, utterly baffled.

His smirk deepened, and he tapped his nose again, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. “Enhanced senses, remember? The subtle shifts, the hormones- it’s all there. Just like Lily. Didn’t think I’d notice?”

You stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. “You could smell that I was-?”

“Pregnant?” He finished for you, his tone softening slightly. Hearing Remus be the first to break- to finally say the word properly- it brought a smile to your face. “Yes.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning softly as the embarrassment washed over you. “Merlin, Remus, you could’ve said something!”

“And miss this moment?” He teased, leaning forward again. “Not a chance.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, narrowing your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Only because I care,” he quipped, his smirk turning into a warm smile. He reached out, his hand resting gently on yours. “I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.”

His words melted some of the tension in your chest, and you let out a shaky laugh. “Well, I’m telling you now,” you said softly. “I’m… I’m having a baby.”

His smile grew, the teasing glint in his eyes giving way to something softer, something warmer. “I know,” he said simply, his voice steady and reassuring. “And you’re going to be amazing.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as his words settled over you, their sincerity hitting you squarely in the chest. “Thank you, Remus,” you whispered.

~~~

Even after everything, it was as smooth as it could possibly be. James, Lily, and Harry all finally packed up from their safe house and moved back into the Potter Manor. 

Sirius and Remus finally stopped torturing everyone and confessed to their little run around of affections. 

The years passed like a dream, each one carrying its own triumphs and heartaches. The war faded into history, though its scars remained etched into the lives of those who survived it. Life moved on, not always neatly, but with a resilience that surprised you.

Sirius and Remus opened a small library nestled on the corner of Diagon Alley and a quiet cobblestone street. It was cozy, with tall shelves of books that seemed to reach the ceiling, a perpetually warm fireplace, and a small reading nook tucked into the back. The name on the window read Padfoot and Moony’s Rare Reads, though it quickly became known simply as “The Den.”

Remus spent his days writing accurate, unbiased Defense Against the Dark Arts books, ones that became staples in Hogwarts classrooms. His name grew to rival even Gilderoy Lockhart’s (though, unlike Lockhart, Remus didn’t need embellishments to sell books). Sirius, of course, claimed full credit for every ounce of their success, though he spent more time charming patrons and hosting wildly popular storytelling nights than actually working.

Your daughter, Ophelia, was the light of your life. She had her fathers eyes- but carried a quiet intensity in her gaze that reminded you of a young girl you once knew. Sirius adored her, and James, ever the doting uncle, took it upon himself to teach her everything he could about Quidditch, much to Lily’s dismay. Harry, now only 6, had taken on a brotherly role, often sneaking her chocolates or helping her catch frogs in the garden when no one was looking.

But it was Remus who seemed to understand Ophelia in ways even you sometimes struggled to. He noticed the way she retreated into her own thoughts, the questions she asked that were far too insightful for her age. He never pushed her, always waiting patiently for her to come to him with her thoughts, her worries, or her triumphs. It was Remus who first noticed how much she loved books, spending hours reading to her in that steady, soothing voice of his.

One quiet afternoon, while Ophelia played on the rug with a stack of enchanted building blocks, you stood at the counter of the library, watching Remus as he worked on editing a draft of his latest book. The sunlight streamed through the windows, catching the streaks of silver in his hair, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” You said softly, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Remus looked up from his notes, his hazel eyes warm and curious. “What’s on your mind?”

You stepped closer, your hands resting lightly on the counter. “I wanted to ask if you’d consider being Ophelia’s godfather.”

His expression froze for a moment, his pen hovering above the page. Then, slowly, a smile broke across his face, wide and genuine in a way that made your chest ache with affection. “Are you serious?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Dead serious,” You teased lightly, though your voice trembled with emotion. “She adores you, Remus. And so do I. There’s no one else I’d trust more.”

He set his pen down and rose from his chair, crossing the short distance between you in a few strides. He hesitated for only a moment before pulling you into a tight, warm hug. “It would be an honor,” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

~~~

It was late summer, and the warm golden light streaming through the windows of the Potter Manor made the room feel alive, even as you worked through the seemingly endless task of packing Ophelia’s trunk for another school year at Hogwarts. She sat nearby, perched on the edge of the armchair with her dark hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders, her head bent over her meticulously written list. 

She was elegant without trying, a quiet sort of grace that seemed inherent in her very being. Even now, as she frowned slightly at the parchment in her hands, the faintest furrow of her brow betrayed her focus; her fingers fiddling with the magpie necklace you gifted her on her eleventh birthday. You couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at your lips as you watched her. She was so much her own person- intelligent, curious, and brimming with quiet determination- but in her moments of focus, you could see glimpses of her father in her too. It made your chest ache with a love so fierce it almost hurt.

“Mum,” She said finally, her voice gentle but tinged with that signature note of exasperation. She didn’t look up from her list as she spoke. “I told you- I need new potion vials. The ones from last year cracked.”

You folded one of her robes carefully and placed it into the trunk, glancing over at her with a soft chuckle. “And I told you, my love,” You hummed, your voice calm and warm, “that you’ll get them when we go to Diagon Alley. Harry and the Weasleys are meeting us there, remember?”

She let out a dramatic sigh, finally lifting her head to meet your gaze. Her sharp, inquisitive eyes- so much like his and yet so uniquely her own- sparkled with that combination of pride and determination that seemed to define her. “I don’t see why I can’t just go by myself,” She challenged, crossing her arms over her chest in that effortlessly regal way of hers. “I’m not a baby, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, the corners of your mouth lifting into a knowing smile. “You’re thirteen,” You countered gently, pausing in your task to give her your full attention. “And while I have no doubt that you could navigate the alley on your own, I’d prefer to keep you in one piece. Humor your mother, will you?”

Ophelia rolled her eyes dramatically, but the faint smile that tugged at her lips betrayed her. “Fine,” she relented, her tone light but tinged with mock indignation. “But only because you insist.”

You laughed softly, reaching over to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “Thank you, darling,” you murmured, your voice soft with affection. “I don’t know what I’d do without you to keep me on my toes.”

She tilted her head slightly, her expression softening as she studied you. “Probably live a very peaceful, boring life,” She sighed in faux aspiration, her words playful but her tone warm. “No dramatic letters about professors or requests for obscure potion ingredients.”

“Don’t forget the long rants about Magic Theory,” You added with a smirk, resuming your task as you carefully folded another one of her robes. “I’d be lost without those.”

Ophelia gave a delicate shrug, her lips curving into a smile that was pure mischief. “Well, someone has to keep you informed,” She said lightly, glancing back down at her list. “You’d be dreadfully out of touch without me.”

“Perish the thought,” You mused, your tone laced with mock horror. But as you reached for another item to pack, you couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in your chest. 

Despite her pride and sharp wit- or perhaps because of it- Ophelia had a heart so full of love and passion that it left you in awe. She was your miracle, your everything, and the reason you had fought so hard to build a life worth living after everything you’d endured. And though she sometimes tested your patience, you wouldn’t trade a single moment with her for the world.

As you worked together in companionable silence, the house around you buzzed faintly with the promise of the day ahead. Soon, the Floo Network would carry her off to join Harry and the Weasleys, and you would meet James and Lily later at the Leaky Cauldron. But for now, in this moment, it was just the two of you, and the quiet love you shared was enough to fill the room with light.

“Ophelia,” You called softly, breaking the silence as you tucked the last item into her trunk. She looked up at you, her expression curious. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

Her sharp features softened instantly, and she set her list aside, crossing the small space between you to wrap her arms around your waist. “Of course I do, Mum,” She murmured, her voice quiet but sure. “And I love you too.”

You held her close, your heart swelling with a love so fierce it threatened to overwhelm you. No matter how many years passed or how independent she became, she would always be your little girl. And in that moment, as the sunlight streamed through the windows and the world felt soft and safe, you were reminded once again of just how lucky you were to have her.

~~~

The cobbled streets of Diagon Alley buzzed with life, the chatter of families mingling with the clink of cauldrons and the rustle of shopping bags. Children darted between storefronts, their excitement infectious, while parents called after them, juggling lists and parcels. But Ophelia paid the lively scene no mind. She moved with purpose, her steps elegant yet determined, weaving through the crowd with a quiet confidence that belied her thirteen years. 

“Honestly, Harry, it’s just a bookstore,” she’d said earlier, rolling her eyes at her cousin’s protests. “I’ll be fine.” Her tone, a perfect blend of exasperation and poise, had left little room for argument. She’d dismissed him with a wave of her hand, her pride unwilling to entertain the notion that she needed an escort for something so trivial.

Now, her prize- a hefty tome on advanced magical theory- was clutched tightly under her arm, its worn leather cover radiating the promise of knowledge. She moved briskly, her dark hair swaying as she navigated the bustling street, her mind already racing ahead to the countless possibilities the book would unlock. The noise of the crowd seemed to fade as she glanced down at the book, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. 

It wasn’t just the content that thrilled her- though the promise of unraveling complex magical concepts certainly did- it was the independence of it all. She’d insisted on going alone, had chosen the book herself, and now, with it safely in hand, she felt a sense of accomplishment she wouldn’t admit to anyone. 

With her head held high and a quiet pride radiating from her, Ophelia turned her steps back toward the group, determined to reunite with Harry and the others before anyone could begin another lecture on responsibility. For now, though, the world felt bright, the possibilities endless, and she relished the brief moment of freedom.

That was when she heard it.

The cheerful hum of Diagon Alley faded into the background as a sharp, panicked cry reached Ophelia's ears. She froze mid-step, her heart skipping a beat as her gaze snapped toward a shadowy alley just ahead. The sound came again, muffled but unmistakably distressed. Her fingers instinctively tightened around the book she carried, and she shifted her weight forward, craning her neck to see.

In the dimness of the alley, two figures stood locked in a tense struggle. The taller one had the smaller pinned against the brick wall, his grip tight around the other’s collar. “You've got nerve, Pettigrew.” The smaller figure’s pale hair fell in messy strands across his face as he squirmed against the hold, his voice trembling. 

“Please,” the blonde figure gasped, desperation lacing every syllable. “I’m sorry! I won’t look for you again. H-he won’t hear of your escape- not from me!”

Ophelia’s breath hitched. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she took in the scene. The smaller figure’s voice cracked with panic, his pale blue eyes wide and darting frantically. The taller figure, shrouded in shadows, stood silent and imposing, his wand raised. A faint, menacing glow illuminated the tip, the threat unmistakable.

She didn’t think. She didn’t pause. Her wand was in her hand in an instant, and she stepped into the mouth of the alley, her voice cutting through the tense air like a blade.

“Oi! Let him go!” She shouted, her tone sharp and commanding. 

Both figures froze, their heads snapping toward her. The taller man’s wand lowered slightly, his body going rigid with hesitation. The smaller figure twisted his neck, his gaze locking onto hers, and for a fleeting moment, Ophelia saw a flash of something in his pale eyes- hope? Relief?

It didn’t last. 

The blonde man’s lips parted, and before she could speak again, his body jerked unnaturally. The sound of cracking bones and tearing sinew filled the air, a grotesque symphony of transformation. Ophelia’s stomach churned as she watched the man’s form contort, shrinking and twisting. Within seconds, he was gone, replaced by a scruffy, dirt-streaked rat.

“What the- ?” The words barely escaped her lips before the rat lunged forward, its sharp teeth sinking into the taller man’s hand. 

The man let out a hiss of pain, his grip faltering just enough to allow the rat to squirm free. In a blur of motion, it darted down the alley, disappearing into the shadows with a faint, scuttling sound. 

Ophelia stood rooted to the spot, her wand trembling slightly in her grasp. Her wide eyes flicked from the spot where the rat had vanished to the man now turning toward her, his movements deliberate, his frustration radiating like heat. 

As he stepped into the dim light filtering from the street, his features came into view. Sharp, angular lines carved a face that was both striking and unsettling. His dark hair fell messily across his brow, and his green eyes burned with a mixture of irritation and something else- something far more dangerous.

Ophelia squared her shoulders, her heart thundering in her chest but her chin lifting in defiance. She clutched her wand tightly, the poised elegance of her posture belying the unease bubbling beneath the surface. Every lesson her mother had taught her about composure echoed in her mind, steeling her nerves.

“Who do you think you are?” she demanded, her voice cold and cutting. “Picking on someone smaller than you in an alley? How pathetic.”

The man’s lips quirked into something that might have been a smirk, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He took a step closer, his tall frame casting an intimidating shadow. “And who,” he said, his voice low and measured, “do you think you are to interrupt something that doesn’t concern you?”

“I’m the girl who’s about to hex you into next week,” she shot back without missing a beat, her wand steady as she pointed it at his chest. “Back off, or you’ll find out just how much trouble a thirteen-year-old can cause.”

The man hesitated, his head tilting slightly as he studied her. His gaze dropped from her face to her neck, and his sharp eyes narrowed, honing in on the small magpie charm resting just above her collarbone. The faint light caught the delicate metal, and for a moment, his composure faltered.

“That,” he murmured, his voice strained, “isn’t yours.”

Ophelia’s brows furrowed, her hand instinctively rising to the charm. Her fingers brushed over the familiar metal as her mind raced. “What’s it to you?” she retorted, her tone sharp, her grip on her wand unwavering. “It was a gift.”

The man’s jaw tightened, and for a fleeting moment, something flickered across his face- recognition, anger, and a hint of something she couldn’t quite place. “Who gave it to you?” he demanded, his voice rougher now, almost desperate.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she straightened her spine, her wand tip glowing faintly as she met his intensity head-on. “That’s none of your business,” she said firmly. 

He took another step forward, his green eyes blazing with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “I’ll ask you again,” he growled, his voice a dangerous whisper. “Who gave you that charm?”

Ophelia didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her chin higher, defiance sparking in her gaze. “My mom,” she said clearly, her voice carrying an unmistakable note of pride. Her lips curved into a faint, deliberate smile as she added, “You should know her. I’m a Potter, after all.”

The man froze. His entire body stiffened, his green eyes widening ever so slightly before narrowing again. Something shifted in his expression, a mixture of shock, pain, and anger that he quickly tried to mask. He stared at her as though he were seeing a ghost.

Ophelia arched an eyebrow, her confidence swelling as she saw the cracks in his composure. “Oh,” she said lightly, her tone dripping with mock disappointment, “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about us. That would be awfully sad- we are war heros.”

The man’s lips pressed into a thin line, his hands twitching at his sides. He took a small step back, his expression unreadable as he muttered, “A Potter.”

“That’s right,” she said evenly, her wand still raised. “And unless you’d like to explain what you’re doing lurking in alleys, I suggest you leave.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned sharply on his heel and disappeared into the shadows without another word, leaving Ophelia standing in the mouth of the alley, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breath.

She glanced down at the charm again, her fingers brushing over its surface. Who was that man? she wondered, a faint chill creeping down her spine. And why did the sight of this charm seem to haunt him so?

~~~

The Leaky Cauldron buzzed with its usual chatter, the comforting scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread drifting through the warm air. You sat at a large table with James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus, laughing at one of Sirius’s over-the-top tales from Hogwarts. The lightness in the room felt like a rare and precious gift, a momentary escape from the shadow of battles fought and sacrifices endured.

The door swung open with a sharp creak, a gust of cool air sweeping in as Harry entered with Ron, Ginny, and Ophelia. Their cheeks were flushed from the bustling streets outside, their movements slightly hurried. Your gaze instinctively fell on Ophelia. 

Something was wrong.

She lingered behind the others, her usual confident stride replaced with hesitant steps. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, as though trying to shield herself from the world. Her sharp features looked drawn, pale, and etched with unease. 

“Oi, there they are!” Sirius called out, raising a hand in greeting. “Took you long enough. Did you stop for ice cream?”

Ron mumbled something about Fred and George dragging them into Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, but his words barely registered. Your focus stayed fixed on Ophelia as she slipped into the seat beside you. She didn’t look up, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cloak, her head bowed like she was trying to disappear.

“Ophelia, love,” you said gently, leaning closer to her. “Everything alright?”

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she said nothing. She just sat there, her hand brushing against the magpie charm around her neck. It was a small, almost subconscious motion, but it spoke volumes.

“Yeah,” she murmured after a pause, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her. “I’m fine.”

You frowned, your worry deepening. She was many things- brilliant, fiery, and determined- but never this quiet. You reached into your bag, pulling out a few Galleons, and slid them toward Harry, Ron, and Ginny. “Why don’t you three grab some ice cream for real this time? My treat.”

The three exchanged uncertain glances, but Ron was the first to shrug and stand. Harry hesitated, his concerned gaze darting toward his cousin, but eventually, he and Ginny followed Ron out of the pub.

The second they were gone, you turned back to Ophelia. “You don’t look fine,” you pressed softly. “What happened?”

Across the table, James and Lily shared a look, their worry mirrored in their expressions. Sirius, his usual joviality replaced with quiet intensity, leaned back in his chair, studying Ophelia closely. Even Remus put down his cup of tea, his sharp gaze focused on her.

Ophelia’s fingers twisted together in her lap, her head ducked low. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.

“Ophelia,” you said again, your tone a little firmer this time. “You can tell me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

For a moment, she stayed quiet, the tension in her shoulders radiating like a pulse. Then, in a gesture so small it almost went unnoticed, she leaned into you. Her head rested against your arm, her nose pressing into the fabric of your sleeve. 

You froze for half a second before wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close. She didn’t cry- Ophelia never cried- but the way she clung to you spoke louder than words.  “Mom.” She muffled against your side. As if recharging her spent bravado and bravery in your arms. “Do we know a Pettigrew?”

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

It’s time to break down the top ten pets we covered this past year before we move into the next! These pokémon would each make good house pets for most owners, and come with our official recommendation. This post will give a brief overview of what makes each candidate a top option. A little later, a separate post will provide the links to the full posts for each one. Let’s get into it!

10. Plusle and Minun

Stand-out pokémon from a type that tends to rank pretty lowly on this blog, both plusles and minuns would make good starting pets for someone interested in Electric-Type pokémon. While you’ll need to be careful of their paralyzing moves, some experts believe that these pokémons’ passive electric powers can have surprising health benefits. That being said, their ease of care isn’t the best (feeding these little friends will be more than a little expensive).

9. Piplup

Piplups have quite the reputation for being unfriendly due to their prideful, haughty attitude, but once you break through that prickly exterior they can make a great pet. They aren’t the best Water-Type pokémon in this top ten, but if you’re looking for a new aquatic friend then a piplup may be a good choice for you (so long as you don’t mind swimming in the cold!).

8. Rowlet

Pretty good year for bird-like starter pokémon! Rowlets are great fits for night owls who could spend some time on training. Plus, if you have a pest problem, a rowlet would be more than happy to help you out with it! They’re also just so unbelievable cute (maybe showing some bias there).

7. Nincada

Good news for Bug-Type fans, you’ve got two great options in the top ten this year! Nincadas are pretty low maintenance, so the barrier for entry into caring for one is perfectly low for new owners. As I discussed in their post, however, you will need to keep in mind the commitment that you take on when adopting one: this is one species of pokémon whose entire lifestyle is geared towards evolution. While I have only discussed one of their evolutions thus far (shedinja), the ease of care and threat level of these evolutions is much higher. Experienced bug-type owners won’t have a problem, but newbies would need to consider this heavily before adoption.

6. Lotad

If you’ve got access to a pool of water for a Lotad to chill in, then you’ve got just the right environment for adopting one. These guys are friendly (at least to other pokémon), easy-going, and their needs aren’t very extreme. They may not be the most energetic or “exciting” pets, but lotads are a great candidate for an aquatic pet!

5. Azumarill

Like the lotads under them in this top ten, azumarills are simultaneously easy to care for and friendly, making them a great option. Like most Water-Types that we discuss, any potential azumarill owner will need to provide them with a place to play in the water, which might not be something everyone is able to provide, but beyond that, they would make a great companion. They’re playful, caring, and cute! What else do you need?

4. Snom

My personal favorite out of the top ten, it’s another delightful bug, snom! While there isn’t a vast wealth of data about this species, given how recently they were discovered, there is plenty of indication that they would make a safe, low maintenance pet. They may not be the most expressive, but their diet of snow and relatively low threat level makes them a great candidate, so long as you don’t mind keeping your home cool.

3. Meowth

That’s right, meowths are especially the same as regular cats, making them an excellent pet! Like regular cats, these pokémon are fickle and free-wandering, but the path to their heart is quite simply paved with shiny things. Plus, as a huge bonus, look at that charming face! If you’re a cat person, you’re a meowth person.

2. Dachsbun

So long as you can keep them safe from their many potential predators, due to their sweet smell, a dachsbun would make an excellent pet. Unlike meowths, who are essentially cats, dachsbuns are much more than “just-a-dog”: are you a baker or a farmer? A dachsbun would make the perfect companion for you due to their ability to provide yeast for baking and to help plants grow with their mysterious scent.

And finally, our number one pet option of 2024 is…..

1. Teddiursa

Adorable, safe, small, and easy to care for, teddiursas would make a great pet for any owner. Their diet is made up almost entirely of honey, which is pretty easy to come by. Plus, if you provide your teddiursa with the right raw materials, they can make their own, providing for a perfect play activity that they may even share with you. Just…uh… make sure you use an everstone, and you’ve got the perfect little friend.

Thank you for another great year of blogging! I truly appreciate all the ongoing support, and I hope to be even more active in 2025. Will a non-Normal-Type pokémon finally come out on top next December? Probably not. But let's see!