#Aiming to finish before the month changes

[refrone]

Update!

Was doodling my OC setting before the app crashed 🥲

[beforetimes]

Foaming at the mouth at the mere mention of role reversal Binghe and Yuan, don't mind me

Also don't mind me just spitballing here, you can take this as a prompt or not! But can you imagine Binghe's reaction to seeing Shen Yuan years in the future, probably still at Jinlan city? Not only is he taking in how different Shen Yuan looks, either in regards to how the abyss changed him or just how he's grown, but Binghe doesn't have prior knowledge that Shen Yuan would live through the abyss.

Can you imagine the shock? The misunderstanding as Binghe doesn't react to anything because he's still processing that his beloved disciple is THERE, he's ALIVE. He was though to be dead for years, but somehow he survived the abyss.

heyyyy anon so glad that i’ve managed to inspire the same obsession in you that’s spawned in me seemingly overnight. anddd i didn’t even consider the possibility of this scene when i came up with this scenario but let me try my hand at what it’d look like… also i know i wrote his name all as shen yuan in this but i only noticed after i finished and i don't want to rewrite. smile. enjoy!!

[og au post here!]

… 

Jinlan city carries with it a chilled breeze, curled up quietly against Luo Binghe’s skin under the edges of his robe, where flesh meets air. Face impassive, mouth a straight line and eyes heavy with poison-bourne-exhaustion only a few hours into the trip, everything spells out the path to his inevitable turning in for the night soon. The sun’s joined in his lulling to slumber, touching the horizon as the sky turns orange from blue. 

Luo Binghe drifts, a reed swaying in the wind by the riverside as he investigates the town, slipping away from Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfang to survey the ghost town in his lonesome. 

Everything is par for the course, almost mundane enough that Luo Binghe feels a muted frustration grab at the epicentre of his chest, wrapped around the raw meat of his heart. Always muted, desaturated and less than every sensation could be, as though Shen Yuan took with him a shred of Luo Binghe. If he were an artist, then Shen Yuan wasn’t just his muse but every hue of colour, enshrined in Luo Binghe’s memory in smudges of peach, white, green, and rosy pinks. 

Of course, Luo Binghe hasn’t felt like much of anything in a long time. Every day feels like going through familiar, pre-determined motions, drifitng in and out of classes with a commitment inspired in him that never possessed him before the Immortal Alliance Conference. Even this mission, a slight deviation from the norm, feels easy enough to slot into a quiet part of his mind, where everything mundane gathers dust. Months, almost years worth of memories tucked away in a damp corner. 

This should be more of the same. Luo Binghe is anticipating nothing else. 

Then—a figure bumps into him, bringing him to a stumbling halt. 

He’s practiced; the figure picks up speed when his gaze passes over them, so Luo Binghe pursues, numbness clenching at the hollow of his chest like a bird nipping fingers. Short bursts of static aimed at his hummingbird heart as he ducks into shadowy alleyways, a maze bringing him eventually to the second story of a seemingly-abandoned home. 

Hand resting on his sword, Luo Binghe creeps up the stairs. Opening to a room, his gaze skips over the furniture in his first sweep before he stills at the sight of the balcony. Silhouette traced against the setting sun, the figure lowers their hood as Luo Binghe unsheaths his spiritual weapon. Its hardly silent, and the figure’s face snaps over to meet Luo Binghe’s eyes. 

Lightning strikes, a shock to the heart. 

Shen Yuan exhales a moment later, and it hurts almost twice as bad. 

“Shizun…” He says, words so quiet he’s almost mouthing them to himself. Cultivation pulled from the equation, Luo Binghe doesn’t think he would have heard them. Here, however, they twist a blade into his palpating, trembling chest. “It’s really you here?” 

He opens his mouth but words loathe to creep past his throat and spill over his teeth. Luo Binghe can only stare, drinking in details he never dared imagine, his disciple last remembered bloodied and sobbing at the ridge of a gorge touched by years Luo Binghe thought Shen Yuan had lost because of his Shizun’s incompetence. 

Gone are the gentle greens and whites of Qing Jing Peak, replaced with navy blue, near black, and charcoal gray robes that layer over themselves thrice over, as though Shen Yuan tries to keep himself warm. His face lost its last vestiges of baby fat, severe green eyes dulled yet still imbued with life. Hair shiny, longer, left in a simple updo unbefitting of Qing Jing Peak’s strict standards. Luo Binghe’s mind wanders back to hazy mornings spent brushing his disciple’s hair before he’s forcefully yanked back to the present. 

“I suppose Shizun suspects this lowly demon to be responsible for the plague?” Shen Yuan asks, unsurprised yet words saddled with inexplicable defeat. “With word from Qing Jing Peak’s immortal master against this one, I suppose there’s no point in dragging out the inevitable trial, though Shizun can decide if this one should dare show his face to the other Peak Lords Shizun’s brought with him.” 

“Shen Yuan,” Luo Binghe manages to croak, mind speeding to such an extent that forcing words out feels like fighting past a hot charcoal shoved down his throat. 

“Or,” Shen Yuan continues, as though uninterrupted, starting to pace in a way so familiar and practiced that any imagined excuses of possession or imitation vanish themselves from Luo Binghe’s mind, “Or maybe Shizun wants to bring this stupid evil demon to the Sect Leader himself before executing him—maybe he wants to claim the glory of becoming Jinlan’s saviour, maybe—maybe Shizun wants this disciples head on a spike, or—“ 

Shen Yuan whips around, eyes burning into Luo Binghe’s with intensity that would unwaver him if he wasn’t already off-balance. Hazy and near-floating, feeling his heart beat outside his frail body. Despite the weight of it, there’s a vulnerable desperation that robs him of breath, too reminiscent of days Shen Yuan spent at the end of Luo Binghe’s bed on days where the world pinned him to the sheets without mercy. Violent and fervent hope seems to overtake Shen Yuan.

“Or maybe Shizun just—? WIll—this one knows that Shizun wants… But everything else has changed, I can— This one—Maybe Shizun wants me to live?” 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Luo Binghe manages to say, and watches Shen Yuan’s expression freeze before shuttering, scrubbed away from a too-pale face and replaced with a jade-like twist to his lips so cold it feels as though it cuts at Luo Binghe’s skin. 

He reaches out and Shen Yuan flinches. 

You’re supposed to be dead, Luo Binghe thinks, standing days away from home yet able to feel the press of grass and stone under his knees as he stares at a solitary grave in Qing Jing Peak’s bamboo forest. 

You’re supposed to be dead, he thinks, watching Shen Yuan turn from disciple to stranger, any hope in his former student's shoulders deflating until Shen Yuan’s taking up very little space, completely unaware he’s done it at all. 

You’re supposed to be dead, Luo Binghe thinks, remembering every single conversation with Liu Qingge where they both quietly tell themselves there’s no body, there’s always a chance. They both knew they were lying to each other. I mourned you. I mourned you I mourned you I mourned you. 

In the same room, Shen Yuan retreats, and despite being closer than they have been in years, Luo Binghe can feel the channel of one-sided hatred between the two of them grow ever-deeper.

masterpost

[f1girliefics]

Save the Date

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Planning a wedding with a Formula 1 driver isn’t easy, but when Lando can’t pick a date, you surprise him with one he’ll never forget.

You knew what you were signing up for.

You weren’t just engaged to Lando Norris, you were engaged to his life, and that meant travel, training, adrenaline, and a calendar that belonged to a team long before it belonged to you.

But none of that changed the way he looked at you.

“Marry me,” he whispered one night after a long race weekend, eyes tired but glowing. “Even if I have to wear my race suit to the altar.”

You laughed against his chest and said yes.

Planning the wedding was a dream, at first.

White lace swatches, sea-glass centrepieces, that one playlist you’d both added songs to for years.

Every tiny piece fell into place like a dream.

Except for the date.

“Let’s wait until the season ends,” Lando said.

Then, “Let’s aim for the summer break.”

Then, “Let’s talk to the team and find a quiet window.”

You watched him try.

You saw the guilt in his eyes every time a conversation ended with “not yet.”

So one night, as you stared at your almost-finished wedding spreadsheet, you made a bold decision.

You opened your messages and typed:

Hi, I need your help. I want to surprise Lando with a wedding. I know he’ll love it. But I need a day when he’s available, even if he doesn’t realize it.

You sent it to his assistant.

A secret, desperate, hopeful gamble.

A few days later, she replied.

He’s in Japan for Suzuka.

Qualifying is done by Saturday afternoon.

He’s free that evening. Can you come here? I’ll get him in a suit.

Your heart stuttered. Japan. It wasn’t what you’d pictured.

But it was something. A real moment.

And that was all you needed.

You made it happen in less than a month.

A venue tucked in the rolling hills just outside of Suzuka.

Cherry blossoms in bloom. Lanterns strung between trees. White chairs lined up neatly in a garden clearing.

You flew in both families and kept the drivers in the loop, Carlos, Oscar, and even Max promised to keep it a secret.

Charles texted you:

If he doesn’t cry, I will. 😭

The day arrived.

Lando had no idea.

His assistant handed him a crisp black suit and said, “There’s an evening event. Dress nice. You’ll be driven there.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to speak?”

“Nope. Just show up. You’ll know what to do.”

He arrived just after sunset.

The car pulled up to a quiet, lantern-lit garden. The driver opened his door. Lando stepped out and froze.

Because waiting there, at the top of the path, was you, in a wedding dress.

He blinked once. Twice.

And then whispered, “What the hell…”

The guests turned. Music swelled. His mother was there, dabbing her eyes.

Your father gave him a quiet, knowing nod. The drivers were seated near the front, all of them grinning.

You walked toward him slowly, heart pounding, veil floating behind you in the spring breeze.

Lando stood completely still, jaw slack, eyes wide with awe and disbelief.

You stopped just in front of him. “Surprise.”

“I-what-” he laughed, stunned. “This is-this is our wedding?”

You nodded. “You kept trying to find a day. So I found one for you.”

His eyes shimmered as he looked around, heart clearly racing harder than it did on track. “I can’t believe this.”

“You’re not mad?” you teased softly.

He shook his head, stepping forward and taking your hands in his. “Mad? I’m going to marry you right now.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

Your heels were off. His tie was loose.

The party buzzed behind you, guests dancing, drinks flowing, music blending with laughter under the stars.

Lando pulled you into a quiet spot, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I almost missed this,” he said into your neck. “I almost missed us.”

You cupped his face gently. “But you didn’t. You’re here.”

He smiled, forehead resting against yours. “I’ll never stop thanking you for today.”

You kissed him slowly, sweetly. “Good. Because I’ll never stop loving you for always.”

And with cherry blossoms falling like snow, you danced your first slow dance as husband and wife, just the two of you, wrapped in a moment you made yours.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

It’s dark. The window is still open, but the chillier air is kind of nice on Eddie’s flushed skin.

The clean bedding is nice too; Eddie tries to remember the last time he appreciated something as nice as clean sheets and draws a blank.

Probably when he still lived with Wayne. Probably before they made it big. Probably before the partying started.

Eddie picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He presses it.

Wayne doesn’t pick up. Eddie’s not surprised, not really.

He tries Chris; she doesn’t answer either.

Likewise Gareth.

He doesn't bother calling Jeff.

There’s no one else in his phone; Chrissy took it all away when Eddie couldn’t differentiate between a friend a dealer or a booty call.

Like the worst Marie Kondo ever, Chrissy had held up the hundreds of friends Eddie had in his phone, one by one, ‘does this spark joy?’

No. Sometimes sucked his dick, though.

Eddie has money though. He twirls his phone on his chest, flipping it from long edge to short. There’s always somewhere open. Flip. Flip. Flip.

Not like anyone's answering him right now anyway. They’ve just left him here. With fucking Steve. It’s just one time anyway, he wouldn’t get away with it more than once. Chrissy would put him on proper lock down if she found out. Probably shove him back in the clinic.

So...just once.

One last go. And then he’d quit for sure. He hasn’t touched it for months, so he’s pretty much proved he can do it, anyway.

Eddie gets dressed. Finds cash balled up in random places.

Eddie stands in the doorway. Look up at the stars and then across the lawn at the security gates. He hasn’t had so much as a cigarette in nearly half a year. This is fine.

“Where you going, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs. Fucking busted. Still, “no where you need to worry about.”

“Uh hu.”

“Look, I’m not on house arrest okay? I can go out, I’m a grown fucking man.”

“You totally are. You want to go out, you go for it. No skin off my nose.”

Eddie whirls, shocked, “what the fuck? Aren’t you supposed to try and stop me from doing dumb shit?”

Steve raises the eyebrow, “so you admit it’s dumb?” He looks sleep rumpled, wearing sweats and a white tee shirt.

Walked right into that one. “You’re dumb.”

The face again. The totally schooled features that are utterly professional and give absolutely nothing away and yet...somehow...he’s laughing at Eddie. Eddie can feel it.

“So you go out,” Steve saunters over, stands next to Eddie, bare toes curling over the doorstep, “you score or drink or do whatever it is you’re aiming to do. Then what?”

“Then what,” Eddie mimics, all bitchy, “I’ll come home, and I’ll sober up, and it won’t change a fucking thing,” Eddie bites out.

“You think? You’ve had sober spells before, is that how it’s gone in the past?”

Eddie takes a deep breathe, because no, no that is not how it’s fucking gone in the past, “this time is different.”

“Is it?” Steve asks, completely fucking nonchalant, “how so?”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to punch someone so bad in all his life. Imagines it viscerally, Steve's fucking head cracking on the door frame while he slumps to the floor in a bloody heap.

Eddie does not do that, obviously.

“Look, I’ll come home, we don’t do anything about it, you still get paid, sound good?”

“I get paid either way,” Steve shrugs one shoulder, because he’s a cunt. “This is how a lot of addicts die, did you know that?”

“What?” Eddie asks, startled by the left turn.

“Yeah, get out of rehab, think their tolerance is still the same, get back on it…” he doesn’t bother to finish.

“That won’t happen to me.”

“Oh yeah, right. Of course. Because you’re Eddie Munson, sorry, sorry, forgot a second there.”

Eddie takes two thumping angry steps into the yard and just...just fucking screams at the sky. Just...roars at nothing. This is shit. It’s so shit. Everything is shit. And Eddie nearly fucking died last time and there’s no escaping that fact. There’s no help. There’s no point to any of this. There’s just pain and fucking misery and something clawing at Eddie’s insides trying to get out.

He roars until he’s hoarse. Until he can’t any more. Until his chin is wet with spit and he feels week and rung out.

He sits on his ass on the cold, dewy lawn.

Steve is still standing in the doorway, he doesn’t look like he’s moved at all. If he’s at all bothered by Eddie’s little meltdown, he isn’t showing it.

“Why did you want to go?” Steve asks finally, "did something change?"

Eddie shrugs, he’s got nothing, not really. No real reason past just wanting to get fucked up. Because it feels good. Because he likes it.

“Okay, what’s worth staying for?”

Eddie makes a dismissive ‘pfffft’, made croaky by his fucked out voice.

“They always say you need to do these things for yourself,” Eddie glares at Steve, because that's some dumb shit right there. Always had it in therapy though. Self worth. Mindfulness. Living in the moment and being proud of what you’ve already achieved and every journey starts with a single step and all that other bull shit they try and feed you. “I know. I agree. When you...feel like you’re nothing, you’re not worth any effort. It’s the hardest time. So pick someone else. Who can you do it for?”

“They don’t care,” Eddie croaks, “they didn’t answer,” he pulls his phone out, flips it onto the grass.

“Who?”

“Chris. Wayne.”

“Okay, give me a good reason why Wayne didn’t answer? That’s your uncle, right?”

“Yeah he...he could be at work,” Eddie admits quietly. Eddie’s given Wayne money. Well, practically forced it on him. Set him up with a nice place; or at least as nice as he could talk Wayne into. Wayne doesn’t believe in free loading though. Eddie’s convinced him to do less hours, but he still works nights two or three times a week. Claims it’s ninety percent of his social life, or some shit like that.

“Okay, and Chris?”

Eddie shrugs, embarrassment over his outburst making him petulant now.

“Eddie, what time is it where Chris is, right now?”

Eddie sighs up at the stars. It’s the middle of the fucking night, “late. Early. I guess.”

“Okay. So they’re not ignoring you, they’re just living their lives like normal human beings. Come on, get up, your ass is gonna be wet.”

“And do what?” Eddie snaps, “what’s the fucking point.” It’s not a question.

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“It was a tough time, you know? Like, life sucks hard sometimes. Music helps. My favorite is The Wilds, you know? You heard that one?” The interviewer mumbles something indistinguishable, “it’s kind of...like the bit about the shining sea, you know? How like, it’s so beautiful, but it’s fucking hard to sail on. Or like how the mountains are so beautiful, but if you go up there alone, you’re gonna’ die, right? So I think...like how insignificant, and meaningless my life is, in like, the grand scheme of things, but like...that makes what you do even more important, right? Like, it means more, when you choose to be...I dunno,” the kid with a million piercings shrugs, “like just be good to each other, you know?”

“That’s not even remotely what that song is about,” Eddie mumbles at the laptop monitor.

Behind him, Steve snorts a laugh, “well that kid thinks it is.”

Another kid, more makeup than the whole of Kiss slathered on her face, “I just think it has meaning, you know?” The interviewer mumbles something again, “oh my favorite?” A lip bitten in thought, she looks at the sky for inspiration, it’s sunset, Eddie figures. Lots of similarly dressed kids in the background. Takes him a second to realize this was filmed outside of a gig, or something like that. “It’s hard to pick, but if I gotta’, it’s definitely Double Down. Those lyrics are just...Eddie Munson is just...he’s a fucking genius, you know?” She frowns, “but also really fucking dumb soemtimes, I hope he’s okay.”

“I didn’t even write that one. Jeff wrote most of that. On napkins, I think. I just...worked it together.”

Another kid, saying how important Corroded Coffin are; how they helped this kid through hard times. Honestly it’s a difficult watch, Eddie has no fucking clue where Steve even found this, and when Eddie’s phone rings he jumps on it, glad of an excuse to slap the screen of the laptop closed.

“Hi, Eddie! You called, sorry it’s early I got up to go for a run-”

“No. No, it’s fine, I...I shouldn’t have called you so late. Early. You were probably sleeping.”

“That’s okay, of course it’s okay, it’s nice you called me,” she snickers, “you never call me.”

That’s true, and Eddie feels bad. It’s always Chrissy chasing after Eddie. Trying to keep a lid on him...trying to keep him safe. He was always the one dodging her. “Yeah, sorry…” Eddie gets up so he can walk away from Steve, tail between his legs he slinks into the hall, he vows, “I’ll try and do better.”

“Good, how are you feeling? Hows your rut?”

Eddie is not fucking admitting that he just had a breakdown and nearly fucked it all up in the middle of the night. No fucking way is he admitting that, “yeah...yeah, just...couldn’t sleep, you know? I guess the rut...still going. Feels weird.”

Eddie can hear Chris moving around, figures she has him on speaker or something, “uh hu, that’s because you haven’t cycled a proper rut in like, four years honey, these things take time to settle. Is Steve doing okay? You’re not being a cunt to him are you?”

“Well I’ve only thought about punching him,” something jogs in Eddie’s mind, “Chrissy, what happened to the cleaning lady?”

“Oh...we did talk about it honey but you weren't really...taking it in, I don’t think-”

“I was fucked up.”

“Yeah...but she…”

“Just say it.”

“The...you know, the vomit. You were constantly trashing the place. She was worried she was...well she was mostly scared she was going to walk in one day and find your body.”

“Oh.” Eddie slumps down on the bottom step, “that sucks. I liked her.”

“Don’t worry, her final pay was incredible. She got a really impressive bunch of flowers.”

“Oh...well. Thank you. For sorting that.” Eddie’s eyes feel wet. His lip wobbles a little, but he holds it in. He’s got no right to guilt about that, not now. “The place looks okay though, I think Steve’s been cleaning some.”

“Yeah, probably, he seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, but the first tear breaks free and he knows he can’t hide it much longer, “go on your run.”

“Okay, speak later?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s so great to hear you sounding more like yourself, I missed you so much.”

Eddie hangs up, draws his knees up to his chest, the material of his sweats already darkened with tears.

Part Four

[cupcakedieabetes]

Dumpster Baby Part 2

<-First

Jazz wasn't worried at all that Danny was missing. But she's annoyed that he hasn't contacted her for nearly 2 months of disappearing.

Danny had gone scouting Gotham and hadn't come back. Something had distracted him enough. Well, with or without him, she was going there anyway. Within two months of waiting for Danny, she had finished packing and was now ready to leave.

Her parents also weren't worried about Danny, knowing about his status as a half. They were just disappointed he didn't bother contacting them for whatever reasons he had. They were planning to join Jazz to settle her in Gotham and investigate where Danny had gone and what he had been doing in Gotham.

Tucker and Sam, who also got no messages, were gearing up to prepare to go to Gotham. Unlike Danny, they were completely normal human beings, so they did have to arm themselves when they went there.

When they got to Gotham, they immediately tracked for Danny, only to end up in front of a large warehouse.

"Did he get carried away building a lair for himself?" Tucker joked.

"And not texting us for 2 months about it? There's no way he can keep a secret about it." Sam hissed at him.

So they opened the door to the warehouse, to find an eyeball staring straight at them.

Jazz, Sam and Tucker screamed while Maddie and Jack aimed their gun rays at it, only for them to realise that it was Danny.

"Dann-o! We came to visit!" Jack put away his gun to greet his son.

"You should have contacted us! It's been 2 months already!" Maddie scolded him.

The eyeball stared at them, looking at them as apologetically as he can as an eyeball before gesturing to follow him inside.

As they went inside, they noticed that there were several Ghosts inside, looking like they had a task to do. They wondered what until they went into a room the eyeball directed them to go to.

Inside was a large creature lounging on the floor, resting as children were playing all over his form. There were babies in an arm, many arms. Oh, and eyeballs were floating everywhere.

"Uhhh, Danny?" Jazz started. "Where did you find these kids?" She calmly stated, ignoring her parents who got excited that they became grandparents in an instant. They all knew Danny, and they all knew that he had taken all these children in as his.

Jazz felt a tug and looked down to see a thin child, a child who should have been pudgy with how young he looked. He looked up with huge eyes, a fist in his mouth as he clutched a teddy bear possessively. He took out the fist from his mouth to reach up to Jazz, opening and closing his fist at her.

"Uppies?"

Jazz picked him up and rested him on her hips, melting when the baby rested his head on her shoulder, his fluffy hair tickling her cheeks.

Okay, she gets why Danny took them in.

"We could have helped, you know." Jazz weakly said, bouncing the baby softly. Danny snorted, making Jazz sigh. She would save the lecture once the children weren’t in the same room.

"Honey! We have grandchildren!" Jack cooed, shrinking from his big size and went on his knees to not scare any children. The children looked like they only recently just had good meals, warmth, and shelter. It wouldn’t do good for him to aggravate them further.

Sam and Tucker decided to sit down on an available spot. Some children, once they noticed that Danny didn’t have any reaction to them, deeming them safe, dragged the both of them to play with them.

Maddie went over to check out Danny to see if his newly changed form had any bad effect on him and just to generally check on him. She melted when Danny deposited one of the babies he was carrying, the arms disappearing when settled in her arms.

She patted her son as she watched her the children and her husband having the time of their lives playing with each other. With Jack's big form, there were children using him as a jungle gym. Jazz was cuddling with the boy. Tucker and Sam were playing heroes with the children as the bad guys, letting the children beat them up when the villains failed their plans.

"I'm proud of you, Danny. You've taken in the children that needed help and created a family of your own." Maddie smiled at him, eyes watering at the utterly domestic side

Danny's eyes all teared up, she noticed, and his head went to nuzzle her.

Well, it's time for everyone to move to Gotham, she supposes.

Next ->

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Not Quite Poison

Barty Crouch Jr. X Potter!Reader

Summary: after a chance meeting in the library; a whirlwind love affair between Barty Crouch Jr and the youngest Potter blossom, but neither of them were prepared for how life would go after.

AN: MONTHS. I have finally finished this after MONTHS. Sorry if the writing style is a bit whiplash, I have changed a lot since then. I can't get away from Barty he owns my whole heart

CW: not proof read, no use of Y/N, Obsessive!Barty(implied obsessive reader), sexual themes and scenes, graveling and begging, Protective Sirius and James, fighting, lying, self indulgent, cursing, Remus x reader if you squint, angst, angst with slightly happy ending, fem reader, not cannon complacent, sexual innuendo, underage drinking, major character death (unless...?)

WC: ~17k

You never felt as bold or as powerful as you did at Hogwarts, walking the halls with your older brother and his friends. 

Shamelessly you always thought they were the coolest. The Marauders, James Potter; Head Boy, Remus Lupin; Prefect, Sirius Black; one of the most clever and strongest duelists in the school, and Peter Pettigrew; the sweetest boy you'd ever meet. 

They had a reputation for themselves even before you came to the school a year later. Not that it surprised you, your brother had always been a moth to the limelight. You were just happy he never aimed that at you, being fiercely protective of his little sister. They all were pretty defensive when it came to ‘little Potter.’

But, there was only so much their help could do.

“Dreadful! A Dreadful on my potions exam!” You groaned as you wiggled the parchment in front of you, as if shaking it enough would change the ink that was etched on the page.

“I have never gotten such a low score in my life!” You whined and hugged the paper. Giving a small sigh as Sirius ruffled your hair. “Calm it, Bambi. It’s just a practice test. You're becoming Moony.”

Sirius gestured behind his back to Remus, who was wearing an offended look.

“I'm sorry I couldn't help you more.” Lily called over from under your brother's arm, sending you a sympathetic look. You just mumbled.

“It’s alright, Red. If even you can’t save me, I’m well and truly done for.” You groaned and Remus nudged you with his elbow.

“I could always give you a hand.” 

You shook your head and bit your cheek. “Nah, think it’s best I crack on alone. No distractions.” You waved your hands out dramatically, full of resolve. Enough to make Sirius laugh at you and Lily to roll her eyes fondly. The redhead looked up and smirked at James who seemed to be lost in his own little world, staring at her. 

“Jamie, dearest?” 

He blinked out of his daze and smiled at her. “What's that?”

“Were you paying any mind to your little sister?” 

“She was talking?” He muttered and looked over at you, greeted by a bird that wasn't under his arm, instead poking from between your index and ring finger. “Ah, so I’ve finally learned to tune her out. Only took me seventeen years.”

“Sod off.” You stuck your tongue out at him and he blew a raspberry back, before Lily gave him a reprimanding smack on his shoulder. 

“You're meant to be head boy.” She huffed and you just smirked. 

“How they let him get that badge, I’ll never know!” You shouted up to your brother who made a mocking face at you with his eyes crossed. Remus snickering from your other side.

“Oi, James, keep it to yourself,” Peter mumbled, shuffling out of spitting range.

“It's like watching two first years go at it.” Sirius mumbled and Remus shrugged. “I don't think they ever left that age.”

You rolled your eyes fondly at the jabs as Lily grabbed your brother's face and squished his cheeks, leaving him a smiling fool.

“Okay, I'm heading to the library.” You offered and got a variety of responses as you left. “Got to make sense of this disaster of a grade.”

Their echoes of conversation faded out as your shoes hit the path to the library. Once there, you were shocked to see how many people were studying in the now cramped hall. It was fair to say that everyone here had a poor score on their test.

What was worse is you didn't recognize a single person. Not well enough to sit with.

You walked down the long path between the aisle and tried to spot an open seat somewhere. That was, until you spotted an empty table. An entirely empty table with a few spare books shoved across the old oak. You lit up and hurried over to take the seat closest to the wall. Setting up your things to begin to study, not noticing how people had been avoiding that table like the plague.

As you set up your books and notes you were oblivious to any presence around you, until the seat right next to you was pulled out. “You know…”

You looked up quickly and you were greeted by a pair of piercing green eyes that made your heart stop. What was it with Potters and green eyes? You'd never know. 

“If you wanted my seat that bad, you could have just asked.” You were suddenly snapped to your senses when you recognized the voice.

Bartemius Crouch Junior. Fuck.

You didn't talk to many RavenClaws, you hardly talked to any male classmates considering how often your brother would scare them off. Sirius wasn't much help either.

However, Crouch had a special reputation. Hanging around dangerous Slytherins, loud, dangerous, obsessive and as smart as a damned whip. You only knew what Sirius told you about him, which was nothing good, considering how both of them absolutely despised each other. James didn't like him either, but Lily spoke highly of him.

Lily spoke highly of almost anyone, though.

You only realized you had been staring at him when he arched his eyebrow.

“Cat got your tongue, Potter?” He teased as he took his seat and you snapped out of your thoughts. Still just blinking owlishly at him. This made him chuckle softly, leaving him to simply shrug and get back to work.

With how he behaved around most of the students you expected him to chase you off or bare his fangs- maybe bite you. Who knows? People described him more like a rabid animal than a proper student. Yet you had sat in his seat, at his table, pushed aside and even stolen one of his books, and he was as calm as a cat. 

“Er- sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.” You whispered and he glanced over at you. Meeting your eyes with a slowly growing smile.

“So she does talk?” He teased and you pursed your lips.

“When she wants to.”

“That's not very Potter of you.”

“It's very me of me.”

His smile only grew as your banter continued. His shoulders seemed to relax and he became a bit more playful. You felt like you might be insane, were there two Crouchs? There is no way this is the same boy who almost beat Sirius to a pulp over a remark about his own brother.

“So… do you mind if I study here?” You asked softly and he shrugged, going back to his paper. 

“I don't mind a pretty face.” 

This time it was your turn to smile, rolling your eyes a bit fondly. You got back to your notes, writing down each problem you had gotten wrong and looking for the proper potion recipe, starting with Wiggenweld. You began to mutter to yourself as you looked across three different books. Rubbing your temple in irritation as you tried to understand the ingredients and grew more and more infuriated. 

“You're doing it wrong.” You heard Barty mumble from beside you. You snapped your head over to glare at him and it only served to make him chuckle. 

“I don't think I've ever seen a Dreadful in my life.” 

You flushed a bit and moved your wrist to hide your marks. “What happened to you being nice to me?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled and shifted his seat a bit closer to you, looking at the books. “What's got you confused?”

“I just..” You sighed and gestured to the books. “Every one of these say something different! Salamander blood until it turns yellow, then orange, then green. But this one says Unicorn horn and Lionfish spines. And then this one says Sloth-”

“Woah woah woah, pretty girl, breath.” He pushed and you took a sharp breath. No one but Sirius had ever called you that, and certainly not in that tone. He lifted his arm and you got a good view of his bare forearm from where his sleeve was rolled up, showing off a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a magpie, you think. He smiled at how you took it in. “Did it myself.”

Your eyes widened and looked at him in shock. He seemed giddy with excitement at your interests. “That and this,” He mused and stuck out his tongue, using his middle fingers to press it flat against his lip. Showing off his tongue piercing and his black nails. Your eyebrows shot up to your hair line.

Him and Sirius were scarily alike. It was almost comforting.

“Woah…” You mumbled and he laughed. Smiling ear to ear.

“Look here, kid.”

“I'm your age-”

“Shhh, I'm spitting wisdom.” 

You couldn't help but laugh and relax fully as his fingers lined the pages of one of your books. “The reason they are so different is the one thing Professor Slug on my Horn doesn't tell you,” You laughed a bit in surprise at the vulgar nickname, “Is the potions you study under him have several different ways to make it. Salamander blood being the one taught in class.”

You looked back at the books and tilted your head a bit. “Why wouldn't they tell you that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I don't even use those recipes, I made my own.” 

You looked over at him in shock and he just smiled at you. 

You knew Crouch was a genius, he made sure everyone knew. But to have your own concoction for the potion you couldn't figure out how to brew according to instructions? You were baffled.

“Really?” 

He nodded and you furrowed your brow. “Why Wiggenweld?”

His lip twitched and you could see as the smile left his eyes but not his lips, slowly biting his cheek. “I'm prone to.. accidents.” 

“Your fights.” You whispered and he shrugged. 

“Those too.”

“Typical Crouch behavior.” You murmured, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice. Talking to him was feeling more natural by the second. “Always getting into trouble.”

He grinned at that, leaning back in his chair with a casual confidence that was slightly charming. He had a way about it, how his sleeves were rolled up and his tie was loose. Robe discarded and undeniably handsome- “What can I say? It’s a talent of mine.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling more at ease as you continued to chat. The tension from earlier with your potions exam began to fade, replaced by a curiosity of learning who this Barty boy really was. It was a strange feeling, considering the reputation he had, but he seemed different here, away from the majority of the school, he was so gentle and sweet. 

“So, what’s your recipe for Wiggenweld?” You asked, hopeful for a bit of help. You leaned in closer, the books between you momentarily forgotten.

“Alright, but you have to promise me something,” He whispered and leaned all that more closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You can’t tell anyone I’m teaching you this. It’s our secret.”

“Deal!” You nodded, your excitement bubbling over. You didn’t care about the implications of keeping secrets; you were just grateful for the distraction and the chance to understand potions from a different perspective. Definitely not to keep talking to him, not at all, he was just so damned sweet.

“Well, I use this version of it.” He gestured to your test, “But no Salamander blood. Just Horklump and Dittany.” 

“What?” You whispered in shock and he sent you a playful wink. 

“Trust me, yeah?” He gestured to the pages. “You just need to stew them for no longer than ten minutes. Stir it the first two- Potter?”

“Yeah?”

“You should be writing this down.” He teased and you quickly scrambled for your quill, cheeks flushed as he found you just staring. 

You quickly scribbled down the details, heart racing as you focused on Barty’s instructions. The way he leaned in, so close that you could catch a whiff of his cologne, made it hard to concentrate. You tried to tune out the little voice in your head that reminded you of his reputation; all you wanted was to absorb the knowledge he was sharing. Nothing more.

“Okay, so after you’ve stewed the Horklump and Dittany, you need to add a pinch of powdered mint. It has to be powdered, if you add any fresh mint the juice will wind both of us in detention.” He continued, his voice low and steady, as if he were sharing a well-guarded secret. “But don't tell anyone that. It's just to get the color Slug likes so much.”

You couldn't help but smile at his goofy antics. “We?”

“Hm?”

“We'd end up in detention?”

He gave a chuckle. “Can't let you get in trouble for my secrets, can I? How could I live with myself?”

“What a gentleman.” You cooed and he gave a playfully solemn nod. 

“Truly, I am.”

“I would totally let you take the fall for my antics.” You countered and he put a hand over his chest with a gasp. You giggled and he couldn't help but smile at your look. 

“You're much prettier than your brother.” He hummed and you paused, turning to furrow your eyebrows at him with a bright smile. Clearly, he had no shame in what he said.

“Watch what you say, my brother may disagree with that.” 

Barty smirked, clearly unfazed by the warning. He seemed so.. shameless. “Let him. I’ve dealt with worse than a jealous Potter before.” He leaned in a little closer, his tone playful, yet there was an undertone of seriousness in his eyes. “Besides, I would hate to disappoint him. But my type is more.. about your height, your hair color, your eyes. Have to say, the only thing wrong with you… your name.”

You felt your cheeks flush with warmth at his compliment, the boldness of his words making your heart race. Who was this guy? “Oh really? What’s wrong with my name?” You asked, trying to keep your tone teasing, but the stutter in your tone betrayed you.

“Potter is a lovely name.” He hummed, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “But if you are looking to try out something different, I have some ideas.“

“Is this you flirting, Crouch?” 

“Call me Barty. And if you have to question it I might just have to up my game.” He lit up like a child and your heart clenched hopelessly. He didn't even attempt to play coy with his new found attraction, you wondered hopelessly how many people had told this boy no. Certainly not enough.

Thank Merlin for that.

You couldn't help but laugh, trying to mask the fluttering in your chest. “Well, Barty, I don’t know if you’re just charming or if this is some elaborate scheme to distract me from my disastrous Potions exam.”

He leaned in closer, resting his chin in his hand, eyes focused solely on you. “Maybe it’s a bit of both.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting to suppress a smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re delightful,” He shot back without missing a beat. The intensity in his gaze made you feel a little dizzy, like you were the center of an exhilarating storm. Like you were worth all his attention.

You had only been speaking for an hour and it seems he made up his mind about you so quickly.

“Okay, Mr. Charming.” You said with a smirk, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Let’s focus on Potions before you completely derail my study session.”

“Fine, fine.” He chuckled, leaning back into his chair but not breaking eye contact. “What's your next question?”

You spent the rest of the day with Barty, drilling on about the exam and your potion questions, falling into an easy and familiar rhythm. Eventually, even when your questions were answered and the library was empty, you two stayed. Even as it grew dark outside and the only lights came from the candles on the table. You two keep droning into easy conversation.

“You know.” Barty hummed. “This isn't the first time we've met.”

“Really?” You asked, your head in your arms as you leaned on the table over your books. He nodded. “Mhm. We met before, when we were younger. Before Hogwarts.”

“Before Hogwarts?” You echoed, trying to piece together the fragments of your memory. “I don’t remember meeting you before then. Are you sure?”

Barty chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m sure. It was at Diagon Alley.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you tried to recall any memory of him. “Diagon Alley? I don’t remember that at all.”

“Yeah, it was ages ago. You were with your family, and I was there with my mum.” He explained, with such a sweet smile that reached his eyes. “You had just gotten your first wand. You were so excited, waving it around like you were already a pro. I was upset because my magic hadn't come in yet but you and your brothers came around the same time.”

You felt a spark of recognition at his words, completely baffled he would remember something so utterly small and insignificant to him. “I do remember being really excited! I think I accidentally turned my brother’s hair blue for a week after that.”

Barty burst out laughing, the sound bright and infectious. “See? You were a little troublemaker even back then.”

“Hey, it was an accident!” You protested, laughing along with him. “I was just a kid.”

“Still, it’s good to know you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.” He muttered and bit his cheek. Suddenly so.. thoughtful and distant. 

“... how did you remember that? I hardly remember it and it was the day I got my wand.” You have a small nervous laugh.

“You really don't remember?” He laughed and you just furrowed your brow in confusion.

“Woah, I'm that forgettable?” He teased and laughed as your eyes widened in horror. “I'm only teasing.”

He rolled his jaw a bit and laid his head on the table to look you in the eyes. “I was throwing a fit, you know. I wanted a wand so badly. You walked past me on the street and you pointed your wand at me. You shouted; ‘tears be gone and magic be strong!’ And just toddled away after your mother.”

Your jaw dropped a bit before you slowly covered your face in embarrassment. Giving a low groan as you began to laugh. “I don't remember that. But that's what my mum always told us when we got hurt. Said our magic would heal our owies.”

He chuckled and nodded. “I stopped crying. When I got my magic the next year I was sure it was your doing. I'm not surprised you don't remember me.”

“It's not that you're forgettable-”

“Heavens no, not that. Just… you are always doing small things like that. You don't know how much it means to people.”

You flushed a bit at his statement and looked down, unable to keep his eyes anymore. “You're exaggerating.” 

“I'm not. Everyone just adores you.” He mumbled and you shook your head.

“And everyone is scared of you.” You challenged. “Not everyone knows what they are talking about.” 

“They are scared of me with good reason.” He corrected and you shook your head defiantly. 

“You're not scary.” 

“I can be.” 

“I'll believe it when I see it.”

“I guess you'll never believe it then.”

You tilted your head a bit and looked up to meet his eyes. He was smiling so softly, so sweet, eyes gentle and almost suffocating. “I would rather die than scare you.”

You stared at him, a bit stunned. Struggling to catch yourself but all you could muster was. “You could never scare me.”

“Good.” He whispered in earnest with a nod of his head. “Good.” He smiled.

Before you both could continue talking, you heard the grand doors creek open, both of you looked up like deer in headlights. You saw Remus poke his head in and he smiled at you, before giving a grimace of a look at your company. 

You stood up as you saw Remus leave, giving a low sigh. “Sorry, I kept you here so late.”

“Don't worry about that.” He muttered as he began to help you pack up. “I'll put your books away for you.”

You gave him a surprised look before you furrowed your brow. “Are you not heading out as well?”

“Not now. I have a few assignments to look over.” He mumbled and your eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Wha? Oh! Oh, Barty, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to distract you.” You whispered and he shook his head, chuckling.

“It's alright, you can make it up to me.” He muttered and you nodded vigorously. “Distract me again? Tomorrow? Same seat?”

You were stunned for a moment before you slowly smiled to match his. “Time?”

“I'll be here all day.”

“Understood.” You smiled and gave him a small wave. “Goodnight, Barty.”

“Goodnight, Star.”

When you made your way out of the library and noticed James, Lily, Remus, Peter, and Sirius. You tilted your head a bit curiously when you saw James with the map.

“What's this about?” You hummed and James pointed at you like an accusatory child.

“Nuh uh! You and Crouch? Gross! No!”

You furrowed your eyebrow in confusion and looked over to Sirius who was glaring at you. Peter looked nervous to meet your eyes.

“You upset your brothers.” Remus muttered to you and you tilted your head. 

“It would seem so.” You mumbled back and Lily gave a little giggle. James didn't appreciate your mellow response.

“Bambi that boy is no good for my little sister.” James huffed and you could have sworn if you rolled your eyes any harder they would fall from your head. 

“Oh Merlin, here we go.” Lily mumbled.

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at James, trying to keep your expression calm. “You mean the boy that helped me understand Potions better than I ever have? The same boy who’s been nothing but nice to me? You guys really need to relax.”

Sirius chimed in, his tone teasing but serious. “Nice? Junior? He's a walking red flag, love”

“And you’d know all about red flags, wouldn’t you, Sirius?” You shot back, a smirk creeping onto your face. You couldn’t help but needle him a bit, knowing full well his own history.

Lily laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. “Come on, you guys, let her have some fun! She’s old enough to make her own decisions.”

“Lily!” James huffed and gestured to you. “She's only 17.”

“18 in two months.” You put your hands on your hips as Remus smirked. “58 days.”

“Right on.” You mused and you and Remus shared a high five.

“Wha- I- no! No, I don't like it!” James whined like a child. “He's a Death Eater.”

That killed the fun chillingly fast. The hall was silent- in truth, no one knew anything about who was truly what. The only people you guys knew to be those monsters were the ones who claimed it. Like Mulciber, Avery, and even some of the other younger Slytherins.

The only evidence they would have to that would be the company Barty chose to keep.

“You watch your mouth.” You snapped quickly at James who looked a bit caught off guard that his usually sweet playful sister was so serious. Your blood was boiling with anxiety and inching for you to back down, you just wouldn't. To be in the middle of a war and to use that word so freely?

“You don't know what rumors like that can do to someone! And, I'll have you know, he is the sweetest boy I've ever talked to!” You snapped at him and his jaw dropped. 

“Not you, Remus or Peter.” You reassured and they nodded in agreement. 

“Not me.” Peter smiled at his friends and earned a smack from Sirius. Remus had the good sense not to say anything.

“You're such a git, James! And I won't be letting you continue to dictate my social life!” You snapped and the second Sirius opened his mouth you glared at him down. “You either greaser!” 

Remus snickered and you shook your head. “I'm going to my dorm!”

Lily scurried up to follow you, giving the boys a playful ‘hmph!’ As she passed.

Remus was about to say something before Lily grabbed his arm and dragged him along. Leaving the three older Gryffindor's alone in the hall, baffled.

~~~

You stomped right up to your bed and slipped across it with a groan. Remus was next, mocking your childish stomps before he laid the proper way across your mattress, arms behind his head. You glared at him before Lily sat beside you and patted the side near her, coaxing you closer.

You sighed and sat up, wiggling closer. 

“Baremius, huh?” She prodded and you nodded, leaning on your palms beside your knees. Her tone was always so soft and patient. She was always so… peaceful. 

“It's not like that. But James- ugh! He just gets on my nerves.”

“Not like that?” Remus spoke up from behind you two. “He looked like he was about to kiss you.”

“I have that effect on people.” You cheeked, quickly trying to cover up your heating cheeks. “He was helping me with potions. Nothing more.”

“Well, that's good.” Lily muttered and you half glared at her.

“Good?”

“I can't believe I'm about to say this.” She muttered. “I agree with your brother on this one.”

You gawked at her before you looked at at Remus who suddenly looked nervous. 

“And you?”

“In my defense, putting aside the rumors and.. his behaviors. He's a guy.” He shrugged and you gave a scandalized laugh.

“And you're not?”

“I'm a man.” He hummed and flexed playfully, showing off his arms and making you laugh, laying back and across his stomach. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and laid her head on his chest, looking at you with a soft smile.

“And in my defense, honey, I know him. He's friends with those horrid Slytherin boys and…” She looked away for a moment. “Snape. I know you can't judge someone on their friends alone but…”

“It says a lot.” You muttered and slowly hid your face in Remus’s stomach. He lifted his hand to ruffle your hair and you gave a loud and annoyed groan, looking back at Lily. “Do you really think-”

“I haven't seen any proof.” Lily quickly hushed you. “But just.. be careful, yeah? May want to keep him at arm's length.”

“...” You sighed and began to pick at the cables of Remus’s sweater, earning a smack from him. “I'll keep my distance.”

“That's our girl.” She smiled and leaned in to kiss your temple, making you laugh.

“You have to marry my brother now.” You insisted and Lily gave a snort. 

“Oh, look at this.” Lily mused and reached behind her, the second you lifted your head she flung a pillow at your face, leaving you to fall against Remus’s stomach. He let out a sound that resembled a balloon deflating and it left you and Lily giggling like fools.

You stared up at the ceiling as Remus and Lily began to chat aimlessly. You began to pick at your nails and pause. You wondered if there was any truth to it, the rumors and his actions. 

“I would rather die than scare you.”

His words replayed in your head over and over. What did he mean by that? Was it just you? Was his persona an act? What made you the exception?

The way his head tilted and his eyes looked into yours, it was something so genuine. Scarily affectionate. You wondered if it really was just that conversation. That day you met and that comment you made to him about magic.

Was he really not used to such simple compassions?

“Earth to bambi.” Lily called out and you looked over at her with a curious look. She smiled.

“So you won't get tangled up in him, yeah?” She prodded and you bit your cheek. You must have missed a lot.

“Yeah.. I'll be careful.” You muttered and she smiled.

“Good. I'm off to my patrols.” She hummed and sat up, grabbing her books and saying her goodbyes.

Remus looked down at you to see that distant stare again. Giving a weak chuckle and patting, giving a hum. “Wanna braid my hair?”

You sat up wordlessly and flopped on the pillow next to him. “Actually.. Can you read to me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want, bambi.” He mused and grabbed one of the books from your coffee table. Shifting up so you could lay your head on his chest, listening as he started the same book he's already ready you a million times.

~~~

You kept your promise and you avoided Barty. Everything went back to the status quo. At least for the first few weeks.

James had let it go a week or so later and Sirius was still weary of leaving you alone for too long. Ever since he started staying at your house in year five, he had become just as hovering and doting as your brother. But with Lily and Remus as reinforcements they never pushed it too far.

Then came the full moon. Remus would never allow you too far from the Gryffindor towers the nights leading up to it. No one, really. 

He would sooner see you in detention then letting you out of the dorms and especially not near the dark forest the night of the full moon. However, even if you couldn't help the night of, the very next morning no one could stop you from rushing down to the shrieking shack with breakfast and water for the boys.

It was never anything complicated, just a few biscuits and water before you all were lugged back for classes. This morning was no different. As you walked with the boys out of the shrieking shack and towards the school. 

The sun was shining bright, casting warm rays across the forest floor as you made your way back toward the castle. The air was crisp, fresh from the night’s chill, and you felt a sense of accomplishment in being there for your friends. 

“Thanks for this, lil Potter.” Remus mumbled, his voice still a bit hoarse but warm with affection as he took a sip of water. He was leaning heavily on his crutch that he still tried to insist he didn't need. The other boys were busy sharing their own sleepy banter, but you just smiled. “Of course, Moony. I wish you'd let me help more. I feel like I've become an animagus for nothing. I can still taste the mandrake leaf, I'll have you know.”

“I told you he wouldn't let you help like, five times!” James shouted ahead as he slipped back on his shirt. Remus strayed behind in his slowed step. Sirius shook his head.

“If we had it our way, and you weren't so spoiled, you wouldn't be one at all.” He snarked in all his grumpy morning glory and you gave a sarcastic laugh.

“What got up your ass this morning? Hopefully not Remus in his state.” 

Remus began to choke on the water you had given them and Sirius gawked at you. James let out a laugh so loud it startled a few birds from the trees.

Remus rolled his neck before he nudged you a bit and gave a low groan. “It will keep you safe. Just in case… you know, anything happens.” 

“Nothing will happen.” You assured and he shrugged, always ready to believe he could hurt you guys at any second.

“You never know.”

“You'd never hurt me, Remus.” You whispered and locked your arm with his. He shook his head.

“Moony would.” He challenged and you shook your head back at him.

“No, I mean, you wouldn't be able to. I am simply getting that good at self defense magic, didn't you hear our new professor? Could wipe the floor with em.” You cheeked and Remus gave you the most sour look you had ever seen, making you giggle.

“Can I?” Peter whispered from beside you and you handed him your water easily, giving a laugh when he threw it back and chucked the damn thing.

“Thirsty?”

“We shouldn't have drank.” He muttered and your jaw dropped.

“You four drank? That has to be illegal. More- more so illegal than whatever we have been doing so far.” You scolded and Remus just gave you a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, looking off into the forest with a playful huff. Only for you to pause when you saw some bit of blue behind you guys. 

You began to slow down more, furrowing your brow at the figure you swear you saw, just following you guys. Your arm untangled from Remus’s and he paused, looking back at you. Then, you saw cigarette smoke. You trailed back a bit more before you turned sharply. 

“I think I dropped something! I'll catch up!” You called back before you hurried down the trail. Looking along the tree line. Only then did you spot exactly who you thought you saw.

Barty looked at you with wide eyes, from the thicket of the trees. You two locked in a staring contest for a few moments before you heard Peter’s voice call out to you.

“You okay, Bambi?” He shouted and you quickly ran into the proper tree line. Grabbing Barty by his lapels and pushing his back against the nearest tree. He gave a small ‘oof’ as you took the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it on the ground, stomping it out.

He didn't react much besides rolling his head in annoyance and looking up at the leaves above you as you attempted to hide him. “What are you doing here?” You whisper hissed, assuming the worst.

He sucked his teeth a bit before looking down at you with a quirked eyebrow, “Can't take a morning stroll?”

“Were you following me?” You asked incredulously, stepping back from him as he fixed his uniform. “Not.. initially.” 

“Yo! Bambi, you alright?” Sirius called down and you pursed your lips, giving Barry a once over. He looked.. sad. Almost bored. Nothing like the playful boy in the library.

“Uhm… yes. Yes!” You shouted back. “Wardrobe malfunction! I have a spell for it, just run ahead!”

There was a long pause before Remus shouted back. “Alright!”

As you listened to the boy’s voices finally fade out into the background you slipped your hands in your robe pockets. 

“Why are you out here?” You finally asked and he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. He walked over to a well worn log and sat down. Looking back to the path one more time you finally sat by him, hugging your cold knees. 

He took off his robe and threw it over your lap. Before you could protest he took a letter from his pocket and handed it over to you. Taking out a box of smokes and starting another one.

You looked over the letter carefully, the envelope was beige but it had a blue stamp. Carefully, you unfolded it.

Bartemius,

I find it utterly disheartening that I must waste my precious time addressing your incessant foolishness yet again. Your childish antics are a stain on our family name, and quite frankly, I am beyond exhausted by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation. Another fight within a week? Pathetic.

How dare you presume to send a personal letter to my office as if your juvenile escapades warrant my attention? If I sought updates on your disgraceful behavior, I would have asked your mother- though I suspect she has long since learned to ignore your antics. It astounds me that you continue to associate with those beneath you, dragging my name through the mud and jeopardizing the reputation I have painstakingly built in the ministry.

Your conduct is an embarrassment, not just to yourself but to me and our entire lineage. I expect to see a marked improvement in your behavior, though I have little hope that you possess the maturity to effect any real change. If you cannot rise above your base instincts, you will remain nothing but a disappointment. Do not insult me further with your incompetence. 

You felt your heart clench tighter with each line you read. It was like someone had cut out the devil's tongue and used his linguistics to verbally lash the pages, and the lack of warmth in the words left you feeling hollow. It was hard to reconcile the boy you’d just been speaking with- the charming, playful Barty- with the boy described in this letter. 

Let alone a boy as sweet as Barty could be subject to this. Your thumbs began to crease the page the tighter you held it.

You knew you were lucky to have a father like yours. He would never speak down to you like this, he was the one who begged you to write. About anything and everything. 

“I wanted him to know I got all O’s.” He muttered, gesturing to the letter. You looked over to him in surprise as he tightened his jaw but kept his expression unreadable. “Should of known it wouldn't have impressed him.”

“Barty…” You whispered, looking up at him with concern etched across your features. You felt your eyes begin to sting and your vision blur. He was staring off into the distance, tense as he took a deep drag of the cigarette. How could someone be so cruel to him?

You schooled your expression, giving a sniff or two as you used your sleeve to dry your tears. Then, your turned to face him fully, pressing the letter firm against your lap.

“You impressed me.” You declared in a stern tone. He furrowed his brow and looked at you curiously. You kept a straight face. “It's impressive, Barty. It's impressive and.. I'm impressed.”

He gave a weak, almost scandalized laugh before he bit his cheek, trying to hide a smile. “You are?”

“Mhm.” You nodded earnestly and he gave a low chuckle as you began to sniff again to try and keep your tears back.

“So.. is that why you'd been avoiding me?” He mused and your shoulders sank a bit. You have a deep sigh and hugged your knees. Burying your face in his robe still draped over your legs.

There was a moment of pause before you finally gave in. “You're not.. you're not a bad person. I don't think you are.” You whispered. “But my brother does. And his friends.”

“So what?” He asked softly, no malice in his tone just genuine curiosity. 

You hesitated, the weight of your words hanging in the air. “So... I don’t want to get caught up in whatever is brewing around you. I know there's something. They care about me, and I care about them. I can’t just ignore it. And Lily she's...”

Barty’s expression shifted slightly, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. “You think I’m dangerous?”

“I think you have a reputation.” You countered, trying to keep your tone neutral even as your voice wavered. “And it’s not just who you hang around with. It’s the way people talk about you- like you’re some kind of monster. I've.. heard things. What you've done, I mean.”

He chuckled softly, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose I’ve earned that.” He admitted. “But I’m not dangerous. Not to you.”

You felt a pang of something- so heavy and tight in your chest at the way he said it. There was an honesty in his voice that made you hesitate, and for a moment, you saw not just the boy with the reputation, but someone who seemed genuinely weary of the way others perceived him. No.

The way you perceived him. The hypothetical danger he posed to you. He was more concerned with how you felt about him then anyone else.

“Then why do you hang around with them?” You asked, trying to understand. “You could easily distance yourself from them, you know. They are.. they are monsters, you know what they did to Mary and Lily. They are important to me.”

Barty shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that didn’t quite match the tension in his expression. “They’re... my friends. They understand the game. It’s easier to be with those who don’t expect me to be anything other than what I am.”

“But that's not fair.” You huffed boldly. “That's not fair to me. I won't pick between anyone and my friends because my answer will be my friends.”

“Yeah..” Barty took another long drag of his cigarette. “Me too.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you two, a heavy silence stretching out as you both considered the implications. You had to let yourself realize that with a father like his… his friends were truly all he had. You watched as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, the tendrils swirling in the sunlight filtering through the trees. His face was partially shadowed, but you could see the conflict in his eyes- caught between the reputation he had and the reputation his friends built.

“So, you’re saying that you’d rather be with them, even if it puts you in a bad light?” You asked, your brows furrowing in concern. “Is that really worth it?”

Barty leaned back against the tree, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Not all of us can be Sirius Black.” He chuckled dark and your lip twitched. “Not all of us have a Potter waiting to save us and I'm not leaving Regulus alone either.”

You furrowed your brow at him and he just shrugged. “Why didn't Regulus come along?” You whispered softly and he shook his head.

“Wrong question star. It's not my job to question him. I'm the one who's there for him.” 

You stared at him for a moment longer and Barty met your eyes. It was like a stalemate for a good few minutes.

At that moment, you wondered if the houses were truly picked properly. Because you had never known anyone braver and more loyal than Bartemius Crouch Junior. You gave a low sigh and then smiled at him. He slowly returned it and your smile only widened.

Giving a small giggle he tossed his finished cigarette and held his hand out to you. You took it and he pulled you up, tossing his robe over his arm.

“You should run off now, yeah? Before your brother finds me defacing his sister's reputation.”

You shook your head with a bitter laugh. Taking a moment to appreciate him up close. Eventually, you gave in, getting on your toes and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. One that seemed to stun him.

“You really are remarkable, Barty.” You whispered and he couldn't hide his goofy and bright smile from you. 

“And you, Star Potter, are a beautiful experience, everytime.” He said, his voice low and earnest, a spark of genuine warmth in his gaze. You felt your heart flutter at his compliment, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this small pocket of time.

“Now, run along.” He whispered, his tone teasing as he stepped back, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “Don’t let them catch you talking to me, or they’ll think I’m corrupting you.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to walk back toward the castle. “You wish you were that lucky!” You called over your shoulder, feeling lighter than you had in days.

He watched you go with a small sigh. Shamelessly he put the robe to his face he could smell the faintest linger of your perfume. His eyes closing tight, as the scent reminded him you were real. 

“Merlin, I really do.”

~~~

Sneaking around was your brother’s bread and butter, not yours. 

But you found it harder and harder to really stay away from Barty. His persistence didn't help.

Small things started happening. Like chocolates began to appear in your books, flowers showing up on your desk, and other small things that were undeniably Barty. You couldn't get away from him. Whether it was the shared glances or the way he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race, it was undeniable how much you were starting to fall for him.

You’d see him in the halls between classes, his eyes catching yours briefly before he flashed that charming smile. Sometimes he’d join you at the library, his presence both comforting and slightly thrilling. Each time felt like a secret shared in the quiet corners of Hogwarts, a world apart from the repetitive life of your friends. Not that you didn't love them- you adored them. 

But the attention was nice.

“I got an Outstanding!” Lily sang as she held up her test, smiling ear to ear. James gave a wolf whistle to make Lily laugh, earning a shove for it. 

Sirius looked at his parchment and gave a low whistle before carefully setting it back down, making the group laugh.

“That bad?” You cooed and Sirius smirked at you.

“Yeah? And what did you get, bambi?”

You bit your cheek and looked down at your parchment. Slowly turning it over with one eye closed, only to give a delighted gasp. “Ha! Outstanding!” 

You flashed the paper to the group and Remus gave a laugh, Sirius playfully glared at you and snatched the paper away from you. “Horseradish! You cheated.” He insisted and you laughed.

“I did not cheat!” You protested, trying to snatch your parchment back. “I just studied really hard!”

“Sure, sure,” Sirius said, grinning as he held it just out of your reach. “What’s your secret? Did you bribe Slughorn?”

“That didn't cross my mind, actually.” You cheeked, and Remus clicked his tongue with a playful shake of his head. “Disappointed.”

Sirius laughed, holding your parchment a little higher. “You could have had him eating out of your hand with some chocolate frogs, you know.”

“Next time, I’ll be sure to bring him a whole box.” You shot back with a grin, finally managing to snatch your parchment back.

“Look at my little sister!” James piped up, pinching your cheeks. “I knew you had brains in there somewhere!”

“Sod off!” You huffed and he just laughed, letting you go.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile at the actual cause of the O. As your brother and everyone began to get back to their idle chatter, you looked across the hall to the RavenClaw table, but you didn't see him. As your eyes drifted across the hall to the Slytherin table, you found your eyes trapped by a pair of stormy gray ones. Regulus Black simply nodded to you and looked down.

You wondered if he knew.

You pouted a bit before you looked back to the group. “I think I'll spend my free period at the library.” 

“Awe, booo.” Peter called across the table.

“Come on, Bambi, don’t be a hermit!” James chimed in, trying to coax you back into the conversation. “You just got an Outstanding! Celebrate a little, you'll turn into my Evans!”

Lily gave a scoff.

“Yeah, you deserve a break.” Sirius added, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “How about we all go to Hogsmeade this weekend? A little fun to reward your hard work?”

You hesitated, torn between the prospect of hanging out with your friends and the nagging feeling that you wanted to see Barty again. “I would like to. But I really should review.”

“Come on, bambi!” Sirius pleaded, leaning forward with that infamous grin of his. “You can study later! Hogsmeade is a perfect way to unwind. Plus, we’re all going together. It’ll be fun!”

You bit your lip, glancing toward the Ravenclaw table again, half-hoping to see Barty’s unmistakable figure. He still wasn’t there. “I really should-”

“Should what?” James interjected, crossing his arms in an exaggerated manner. “Your grades won’t crumble if you take one break. Besides, you’ve been studying like a madwoman. You deserve a little fun. We haven't really hung out since you started this new study obsession.”

“Yeah! What’s the point of getting good marks if you can’t enjoy yourself?” Sirius chimed in. 

You sighed, biting your cheek. While you loved your friends and cherished the time spent with them, the thought of Barty lingered in your mind. “I just think I can study more effectively if I focus on Potions right now.”

“Come on’, you can’t keep avoiding social interactions forever!” Sirius exclaimed dramatically. “You’ll turn into a hermit! Just imagine it: ‘Bambi, the hermit of Hogwarts’- it has a nice ring to it, actually.” He mumbled.

You giggled despite yourself, but the thought of Barty won over. “Sorry boys.”

“I think it's a good idea.” Lily hummed and you felt a bit guilty. Giving a firm nod and gathering your things and hurrying out of the hall before they could continue to protest. 

The soft breeze from outside pushed back your hair a bit as you walked. The smell of the great hall flickered out and was soon replaced by the not entirely pleasant dampness of the dungeons. You weren't walking down the halls for long before you were suddenly yanked into a broom closet so fast you squealed.

Quickly a hand came over your mouth and you- like a normal person would- freaked out. Slamming your head back into the unseen attacker’s face. You heard a groan as he let go and spun around, only to stare at Barty with wide eyes. His hand covering his bruising nose and smiling at you.

“You scared the daylights out of me!” You scolded quickly, pushing away your embarrassment and annoyance with him- especially since he got such a strong reaction out of you. He just smiled and chuckled at you. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He muttered. He had such a pretty smile, even when he was being an absolute moron. Oh, you owe Lily so many apologies. His hands slipped into his pockets as his shaggy hair fell a bit over his face. 

“Just had to see you.” He whispered and you nodded.

“There are better what's to get a girl’s attention.” You muttered and he couldn't stop smiling at you.  “Does it still hurt?”

You muttered softly and he nodded, leaning down a bit to your height. You smirked and raised your finger as if it was your wand. “‘tears be gone and magic be strong.” You whispered and he gave a low hum.

“You know…”

“Hm?”

“I'm not a kid anymore.” He chuckled and you flushed a bit, rolling your eyes. 

“You could've had me fooled. What do you want me to do? Don't pull girls into a closet- no, don't pull anyone into broom closets.” You scolded and he just laughed, again, the most beautiful sound you'd heard all day.

“How about you kiss it better?” He pushed and you gave a snort. 

“So you are a kid?”

“Come on.” He whined and gave you his best puppy dog eyes. “You hurt me, star.”

You held back a laugh, though the urge to playfully shove him away was strong. Instead, you gently cupped his face, watching his expression soften as you leaned in, pressing a quick, light kiss to his nose.

He closed his eyes, humming contentedly at the contact. “Again.” He murmured, barely opening his eyes.

“Needy.” You teased, but obliged, giving him another small kiss. He muttered the same request, and you rolled your eyes, leaning in to pepper his nose with a flurry of quick kisses, each one lighter and faster than the last.

But then, just as your last kiss hovered, he lifted his chin, guiding your lips to his. You gasped softly at the unexpected move, but he only pulled you closer, hands shifting from your hips to your waist, deepening the kiss. You couldn’t help but smile against his mouth, warmth flooding through you as you melted into him.

“Cheeky.” You murmured against his lips.

You felt the gentle rumble of his laughter as he held you tighter, closing every bit of space between you until it felt like you’d always belonged there, tangled in his arms, with nothing left between you but the sound of his heart beating against yours.

“Congratulations on potions.” He mumbled and he stepped a bit closer to you. Leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.

You giggled and slipped your hands up his arms, grabbing his biceps and your laughter getting louder as his kisses became a bit more sloppy and messy. From your temple to your cheek to your neck. Devolving you both into laughter and loving kisses.

“Barty?” You whispered and he kissed from where his lips we pressed to your ear. 

“Mhm?”

“You should kiss my lips again.”

He paused and slowly his lips curled up into a smirk against your neck. “Anything you want, star.” 

He slowly kissed a trail up your neck, to your chin, to you cheek. You were growing a bit impatient, but you couldn't bring yourself to be mad about it. It was slow and sweet. The opposite of him.

The anticipation built with each gentle kiss, and when Barty finally pressed his lips to yours, nothing else mattered. The kiss was everything you hoped it would be; soft, warm, and filled with all the excitement from the sneaking around you had been doing.

You both pulled back slightly, your foreheads resting against each other as you shared a quiet moment, the sound of your mingled laughter still lingering in the air. He was warm, he always was. Just quiet and content. "I've been wanting to do that for a while.” Barty admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his confession. "Me too."

After a moment of pause, Bart slipped his hands out of his pockets and around your waist. You slowly opened your eyes to see he was staring at you so obviously. So much affection and.. pain in his eyes. Carefully your reached up from his shoulders to tangle in his hair. 

“Baby.” You cooed, watching as the black pupils of his eyes grew twice their size. 

“I love when you call me that.” He whispered and kissed you again. This time, with a bit more hunger for it. 

The intensity of the kiss took you by surprise, yet it felt natural, as if this was where you were always meant to be. Barty's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if trying to erase any lingering distance between you. The world outside the broom closet faded away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, private moment. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that mirrored the emotions you'd both been holding back for so long.

When you finally broke apart, both of you slightly breathless, Barty rested his forehead against yours again. "I need to know.” He whispered. “You're my girl, yeah?”

“Yours.” You confirmed without hesitation. “Your girl.”

Barty's eyes softened, and a relieved smile spread across his face, as if the weight of uncertainty had been lifted. You hadn't realized that for these past few weeks, despite all the flirting and stray touches, the meetings and secret rendezvous you'd never confirmed what felt so obvious to you.

"Good.” He murmured, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek. "Good.”

The two of you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, savoring the stillness and the shared understanding that had only deepened. It was rare to find moments like these at Hogwarts, where every day was bustling with activity and noise, but here, in the quiet confines of the broom closet, you had carved out your own little haven.

"We should probably get back before they start wondering where we are.” You whispered reluctantly, knowing that duty and friendships couldn't be ignored forever. If Remus or anyone went looking in the library for you it was over, Merlin if they pulled out that map they loved to use on you so much you were done for.

Barty nodded, though he made no move to let you go just yet. "I suppose. But we’ll have more time together soon, right?"

"Definitely.” You assured him, smiling as you reluctantly stepped back, already anticipating the next secret meeting, the next shared glance across the crowded halls.

As you both emerged from the broom closet, the world seemed a little brighter, the halls a little more welcoming. And as you parted ways with a lingering look, you knew this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

~~~

You never thought Barty was capable of restraint- his affections for you were never a secret. He had been bold from the start, confessing his feelings on your first meeting as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You assumed he couldn’t hold back if he tried. But the truth was, you had underestimated him completely.

You were a Potter, you were no stranger to a love that burrowed into your heart like a bug. James was a prime example, but he had nothing on your father. You knew love like you knew the sunrise, Potters were love. That still didn't prepare you for the love of Barty Crouch Junior.

The moment you became ‘Barty’s girl,’ subtle gestures turned into grand, unrelenting declarations. Flowers appeared on your bedside in ornate bouquets, chocolates transformed into extravagant assortments, and he began slipping you old notes from his classes, annotated with messages he thought you’d enjoy. Sometimes, you’d find an anonymous love letter tucked between the pages of your books, though you always recognized his handwriting. It was a whirlwind of adoration that grew so excessive even your friends couldn’t ignore it.

The rumor spread quickly: you had a secret admirer. A very devoted one.

What started as stolen glances in the hallways and whispered words in broom closets evolved into something deeper. He became a constant, pulling you into hidden spaces where he’d kiss you like you were the only real thing in his world. His kisses were desperate, his hands always seeking some part of you to hold, as if he feared you might slip through his fingers.

Your world shrank to accommodate him. It was thrilling, yes, but also overwhelming. Each secret meeting was marked by a mix of exhilaration and dread that only lended to thrive in you, every touch, every breathless encounter behind closed doors, reminded you how deeply tangled you were becoming in each other. It was intoxicating and dangerous, like standing too close to a fire.

When he looked at you, it was like he was trying to memorize your every detail, like you were his only source of light. 

“You don’t know what you do to me,” He murmured one night, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead against yours. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing the curve of your jaw as his eyes searched yours with raw intensity. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’d burn the whole world down if it meant keeping you.”

You shivered, his words igniting a heat in your chest. “Barty…”

His lips crashed against yours, swallowing the rest of your words. The kiss was frantic, a collision of need and longing, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you closer, like he couldn’t get enough of you. Your knees buckled slightly, but his arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you, grounding you. 

“You’re mine,” He whispered against your lips, his voice low and fervent. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.” You breathed, the words spilling out before you could stop them. And it was true- somehow, he’d claimed parts of you you didn’t even know existed. You couldn't even fathom were your breath started and his ended. 

He sought you out in the quiet moments, trailing his fingertips down your arm when no one was looking, writing your name in the margins of his notes when he thought you wouldn’t see. You began to realize that to him, you weren’t just a girl he fancied; you were his anchor, his sanctuary in a world that seemed determined to tear him apart. He was becoming yours too.

Your eyes searched for him in every room. The way he flashed you that sickeningly slick smirk when he caught you staring. How he would follow you out of any room you happened to share, just to steal you away from whatever task he deemed not more important then his time with you. Shushing you in empty corridors as his hands found a spot just above your skirt. Ruffling your tie in slight frustration and marking skin no one would see but him. All while looking at you  like you were his last salvation.

~~~

The fire crackled in the hearth as you sat cross-legged on your bed, your Transfiguration book open in front of you. Lily sat at your desk, rifling through her notes, while Remus lounged on your bed, one arm thrown casually over the back of a pillow. The three of you had settled in for a relaxed study session, but conversation had drifted away from studies.

"So, are we ever going to find out who it is that's got you all flustered lately?" Remus asked with a teasing grin, nudging your ankle with his foot. Lily looked up from her notes, her eyebrows raising with interest.

"Oh, Remus, give her a break," Lily sighed with a small smile, though you could see the curiosity twinkling in her green eyes. "She’ll tell us when she’s ready."

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks, and you gave Remus a playful kick back. "You’re both ridiculous," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "There’s no one."

Remus rolled his eyes, his smile widening. "Sure, and I'm the Minister of Magic."

You shook your head, flipping open your Transfiguration book to avoid his gaze. "Fascinating. The Minister and all- and you can't even tell me which wand motion is the proper technique to transfigure my desk. Study don't pry into my very uninteresting love life."

"Uninteresting, huh?" Lily asked, her voice laced with skepticism. "I don’t know, those flowers you’ve been getting seem pretty interesting to me."

You opened your mouth to retort when something caught your eye; a folded piece of parchment, carefully tucked between the pages of your book. You furrowed your brow as you pulled it out, unfolding it to see the familiar slanted handwriting of Barty.

Meet me in my dorm. I’ve got something to show you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly folded the note, trying to suppress the smile threatening to spread across your face. You slipped the parchment under your pillow, feeling both Remus’ and Lily’s eyes on you.

"What’s that?" Remus asked, his smirk only growing.

"Nothing," you said quickly, giving them both a bright smile. "Just a reminder for myself."

Lily narrowed her eyes playfully, clearly not buying it, but she didn’t push. "Alright, fine," she said, glancing at the clock on your bedside table. "But I think I should be getting back to my own dorm soon. I promised James I'd meet him."

You nodded, swinging your legs off the bed. "Yeah, I should… um, I’ll be back in a bit."

Remus gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything as you grabbed your robe and made your way towards the door, feeling the folded note burning against your skin. You slipped out of the room, trying to keep your excitement in check as you made your way through the castle.

Not long after you left, James appeared in the doorway, his hair as untidy as ever and a bright smile lighting up his face. "There you are, Evans," he said, striding into the room without knocking. "Ready to go?"

Lily stood, gathering her notes, but before she could respond, James’ eyes flickered to your bed, where the edge of the note you’d tucked under your pillow peeked out. His eyes narrowed slightly, and with the mischievous curiosity that had always been a part of him, he reached over and pulled it out.

"What’s this, then?" James asked, more to himself than anyone else.

Lily turned, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the note. "James, put that back. It's not yours."

But James had already unfolded it, his eyes scanning the words. His playful smile faltered slightly, his brow furrowing as he read the message. “... she's meeting someone. At night.”

Remus wasn't proud of himself, but he felt his body jolt forward at the idea. His brow furrowing as he looked at the handwriting. 

“Surely not.” Lily muttered skeptical, walking closer and pouting. “James, whose handwriting is that?”

“Don't know.” He mumbled before he glanced at Remus who grimaced a bit. “I know how to find out.”

~~~

The sun had long since set, plunging the room into shadow. The lone candle on the nightstand burned low, its golden light flickering uncertainly across the walls, casting fleeting glimpses of the intimacy shared within. You lay beside Barty on his narrow bed, his body curled protectively around yours. His hand cradled your cheek, thumb tracing gentle lines as if memorizing your face. His other hand gripped your waist, not possessively but securely, as though grounding himself in the reality of your presence.

His green eyes, bright and intent, held yours with a tenderness so consuming it made your chest ache. The world outside seemed to vanish in this space- no war, no sides, no betrayals. Just the boy you loved, smiling softly at you like you were the only thing keeping him alive.

"What are you smiling about?" You teased, brushing your nose against his, your fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck. He sighed at the touch, his eyes fluttering closed briefly before fixing on you again, filled with the kind of raw vulnerability he showed to no one else.

This was your Barty. The boy who could switch so drastically between needing every bit of your skin against his own, and loving you like you were a fragile truth.

"Just you." He murmured, his voice thick with affection, his smile deepening. "Thinking about how breath taking you look right now.."

Your heart swelled at his words, at the way he looked at you as if you were his last breath. You pressed your lips to his, slow and soft, letting the warmth of his embrace spread through you. His arms tightened around you, his desperation seeping through the way he held you close, as though he feared you might disappear. 

But even in this fragile moment, reality intruded. Your lips trailed down his jaw, leaving a line of soft kisses along his neck. As your hand slipped beneath the sleeve of his shirt, your fingers brushed against something rough, foreign. You froze, your heart stuttering as your fingertips traced the unfamiliar texture.

"Barty, what’s this?" You asked, pulling back slightly, your brow furrowing as dread began to creep into your chest. “Did you get a new tattoo?”

His entire body went rigid. His eyes snapped open, the warmth in them replaced by something colder, darker. His hand shot to your wrist, gripping it with startling intensity, though his touch remained gentle. “It’s nothing.” He said- no, demanded quickly, but his voice cracked, and his gaze flickered away. The tension in his jaw, the way he avoided your eyes. It betrayed him.

He couldn't hide from you. Not after he'd given you every way to see him.

"Barty.” You pressed, your voice trembling now. "Show me."

For a long moment, he didn’t move, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the faint twitch of muscle. His eyes darted to yours, filled with a fear so raw it sent a chill through you. Slowly, with trembling hands, he rolled up his sleeve.

The world seemed to stop.

Etched into his pale skin, dark and stark against the flickering candlelight, was the unmistakable mark of the Death Eaters. Your breath hitched, the air in the room turning ice cold as you stared at the symbol that now defined him. The room, once warm and safe, felt suffocating, as though the walls were closing in around you.

"No.” You whispered, shaking your head, your voice breaking as tears stung your eyes. "No, Barty, tell me this isn’t real. Tell me it’s a joke. Please." 

He reached for you, his expression desperate, pleading. "It’s not what you think.” He whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his own guilt. "Please, just listen- fuck, let me explain."

"Explain?" You choked, the word a bitter laugh as you scrambled to sit up, the sheets tangling around your legs. “You’re one of them, Barty. A Death Eater. The people who are trying to kill my brother, who would destroy Lily, who hate everything I stand for. How could you? How could you do this?”

He flinched as if you’d struck him, his hands trembling as he reached for you again. “I did it for them,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “For Regulus. For Evan. They needed me- I had to protect them.”

Your laughter came out hollow, bitter. “Protect them? What about me, Barty? What about us? Did you think of me when you let that thing be branded onto your skin? Did you think about what it would mean? About the promises we made?”

“I love you.” He pleaded, his voice breaking on the words. His eyes, wide and glistening with unshed tears, bore into yours, his desperation bleeding through every syllable. “I love you more than anything in this world. I did this for us; for you. I thought I could keep you safe.”

You shook your head, your chest tight, every word he spoke only twisting the knife in your heart. “Safe? You think this is keeping me safe? Barty, you’ve tied yourself to the very people who want to destroy me, my family, my friends. Dorcas got out. She didn’t need to join them. She did it for Marlene! You had a choice, Barty. You could have chosen me.”

“Don’t do this.” He begged, his voice trembling as he sank to his knees in front of you, his hands clutching at yours. “Please, don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I can’t- I won’t survive it. You’re all I have.”

His raw vulnerability shattered something in you, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing anchoring him to humanity. But even that couldn’t change the mark on his arm, the choices he had made. You tore your hands from his grasp, stepping back as tears streamed down your face.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to hold yourself together. “I can’t be with someone who’s made that choice. Picking that side. Not when it means standing against everything I believe in. I love you, Barty, but this…” Your voice broke. “This isn’t love. Not when it costs so much.”

His face crumpled, his body trembling as he clung to the edge of the bed like it was the only thing holding him up. “You are my side,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re everything to me. Without you, I’m nothing. Darling, please. You have to trust me.”

Your heart shattered at his words, but you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t let your love for him blind you to the truth of what he had become. Turning away, you moved toward the door, each step feeling like a physical wound.

“Please.” He whispered one last time, his voice so broken it nearly stopped you in your tracks. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll fix it. I'll fix us, darling, my love.”

You hesitated, your hand on the doorknob, tears blurring your vision. “I’m sorry, Barty,” you whispered, your voice trembling with grief. “But you’ve chosen a side. And it isn’t mine.”

With that, you stepped out of the room, the soft click of the door behind you sealing the final break between you. Each step down the hallway felt like walking through fire, the ache in your chest consuming you. You pressed a hand to your mouth to stifle a sob, the image of him- broken, desperate, lost- burned into your mind.

But you kept walking, because if you turned back, you knew you’d never leave. And that was the one thing you couldn’t allow. 

Not when his love came with a price you could no longer bear to pay.

~~~

It was well past curfew when you stumbled back into the dormitory, your body heavy with exhaustion and your heart feeling as though it had been shattered into pieces too small to ever put back together. Every step echoed hollowly in the silent hallways, the sound swallowed by the crushing weight in your chest. You didn’t care about the risk of being caught; the only thing propelling you forward was the desperate need to collapse, to sink into the safety of your bed where the world couldn’t reach you. 

But the sight that greeted you when you pushed open the door wasn’t the solitude you craved.

James stood with the Marauder's Map clutched tightly in his hand, his face flushed with a mix of anger and worry that twisted painfully at the sight of you. Sirius paced like a caged animal, his jaw tight, his dark eyes alight with barely restrained frustration. Remus sat perched on the edge of your bed, his brow furrowed with concern, while Lily lingered by the desk, her green eyes soft and filled with sympathy. Peter, as always, quiet. Hovering in the background.

"There you are!" James's voice rang out, sharp and filled with barely contained emotion. The sound made you flinch, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He crossed the space between you in two quick strides, holding up the map like a damning piece of evidence. “You want to tell me what the hell you were doing in the Ravenclaw dorms? Or should I save you the trouble? I know who you were with.”

The accusation in his voice hit like a physical blow. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The fight you would usually summon to deflect his concern- the sarcasm or sharp retorts; was gone. It had crumbled under the weight of the truth you could no longer avoid. Your shoulders slumped, the tears you had tried so desperately to hold back beginning to blur your vision.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, James.” You muttered, though your voice was a faint shadow of its usual strength. It trembled, hollow and lifeless, like it no longer belonged to you.

James scoffed, his frustration boiling over. "Don’t have to explain? You’ve been sneaking around with him! Don’t you see what he is?” His voice cracked, the anger giving way to something far more fragile. "He’s one of them, isn’t he? A bloody Death Eater.”

His words were a knife twisting in your chest. You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath, your body trembling under the weight of his accusation. But you didn’t deny it. You couldn’t. Because James was right. He had been right all along. 

"Say something!" Sirius’s voice cut through the silence, raw and desperate. He stepped closer, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, his pacing halted by his need for answers. His sharp gaze burned into you, searching for some explanation, some reassurance that you hadn’t fallen so deeply into something so dangerous. He couldn't bare to see you follow, not after losing Regulus to it. “Anything.”

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you whispered, “You were right.” The words came out broken, each one heavier than the last. “You were both right… about everything.”

The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of your admission pressing down on everyone. James’s expression crumbled, his anger dissolving into a mix of heartbreak and understanding. He moved toward you, his voice soft and filled with pain. “Oh, sweetheart…” He murmured, reaching for you.

That was all it took. The dam inside you broke, and a sob tore its way out of your chest. James pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as your knees buckled beneath you. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his robes, your whole body trembling.

“I thought he loved me.” You choked out, the words spilling from your lips in between gasps for breath. “I thought- he said he loved me. But he lied. He lied to me.”

James’s arms tightened around you, his own tears slipping silently down his face. “I know,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I know, Bambi. I’m so sorry.”

Sirius stepped forward then, his anger replaced by an aching sadness. His hand rested on your back, tentative at first, before he let out a shaky breath. “We were only trying to protect you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “We didn’t want this for you. We didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Lily knelt beside you, her warm hand brushing against your arm as she looked up at you, her eyes filled with sympathy. “We’re here now,” she said gently. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ve got you.”

You turned to her, your tear-streaked face trembling as you met her gaze. “I don’t know what to do now,” you admitted, your voice small and broken.

Remus, silent until now, stepped closer and placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was steady, grounding. “You take it one step at a time,” he said softly, his calm voice a lifeline. “Just breathe for me. Ten in, ten out. We’ll figure it out together.”

You nodded, trying to follow his guidance, your breaths still shaky but slowing little by little. The sobs subsided, leaving you with a hollow ache in your chest that felt impossibly heavy. 

“Come on.” He whispered, his voice filled with a protective warmth. “Let’s get you into bed. You don’t have to think about anything else tonight.”

You nodded with a distant look, letting him coax you into your bed. You felt like a child.

“Jamie, let's head back to the dorms, yeah?” Lily said quietly, her eyes flicking to James, who stood near the foot of your bed, still looking worried. 

“But..” James started, staring at your slightly trembling form, reluctant to leave you like this. He wanted to protect you, to make sure you were okay, but the look Remus gave him was enough to hold him back. Remus’s gaze was gentle but resolute, silently reassuring James that he would be here, that he’d stay by your side tonight. 

James sighed, his reluctance clear, but he finally nodded. He glanced at Sirius, then back to Remus, letting out a slow breath. “Right. Let’s let her rest then?” 

“Yeah,” Lily whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the back of your head. She lingered for a moment, her hand still gently stroking your hair. “We’ll be back in the morning.” 

Sirius looked like he was about to protest, his expression torn between wanting to stay and knowing he had to let you rest. But Remus quietly reached for the familiar book on your nightstand. He shuffled slightly, getting comfortable next to you. Remus turned his head to look at Sirius, offering a reassuring nod. 

“I’ve got her,” he said softly, his voice calm and steady. It was enough to ease some of the tension in the room. Sirius hesitated for a moment longer, then gave a small, reluctant nod. He exchanged one last glance with James before following Lily towards the door. 

James lingered just a heartbeat longer, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Get some sleep, alright?” He whispered, his voice filled with love and concern. “We’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“Goodnight, Bambi.” Peter mumbled from the same spot he stood earlier, slowly shying behind James as he left. And with that, they left the room, the door closing softly behind them. The silence settled back over the room, and Remus turned towards you, his presence a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone. He carefully opened the book, his fingers brushing over the worn pages. 

His voice, quiet and soothing, filled the room as he began to read, his words wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. You turned slightly, facing Remus, his voice becoming a soft rhythm that helped to steady your breaths, one at a time. His free hand rested near yours, close enough that if you wanted, you could reach for it. He didn’t push. He simply stayed, his calm presence anchoring you. Eventually, as his gentle voice lulled you, the weight on your chest seemed to lighten just a fraction, and you let your eyes drift shut. For the first time that night, you allowed yourself to let go, to let the exhaustion take over. The sound of Remus’s voice, the warmth of his presence, made it feel just a little bit more bearable.

~~~

You woke the next morning to soft murmurs drifting through your dormitory. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting the walls in a gentle glow. For a moment, the warmth tricked you into thinking everything was fine. But then the memories of the night before came flooding back. Barty’s betrayal, the heartbreak, the fight- and the ache in your chest returned with full force.

You forced yourself to sit up, rubbing at your stinging eyes. Across the room, you saw Lily and Remus speaking quietly near the window. Lily noticed you first, her soft smile tinged with sadness. She crossed the room, settling beside you and placing a comforting hand on your arm. 

“Morning.” She said gently, her voice careful, as though she were afraid you might shatter under the weight of it all. “How are you feeling?”

You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I don’t know,” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Your body felt heavy, like every muscle was pulling you back down into the mattress, but the weight wasn’t comforting- it was suffocating.

Remus moved closer, offering you a steaming cup of tea. “Take your time.” He mused, his gaze steady and kind. You accepted the cup with a small nod, letting the warmth seep into your hands even if it couldn’t reach your heart.

You hesitated before asking, “James?” The one person you were dreading facing. 

Lily and Remus exchanged a glance. “He’s alright,” Lily said gently. “Probably caught up with Head Boy duties. He’s just worried about you.”

You nodded, guilt twisting in your chest. “I didn’t want to upset him…”

Lily squeezed your arm. “He loves you. He just needs time to process everything. He’ll come around.”

Remus gave you a soft smile. “How about some fresh air? It might help clear your head.”

Reluctantly, you agreed. Staying in bed wouldn’t make anything better, and maybe the cold air would numb more than just your fingers. You wrapped a robe around yourself and followed Remus and Lily out of the tower, their steady presence keeping you grounded as you moved through the quiet castle halls. Each step felt like a small victory against the chaos inside your heart.

Just as you began to feel the chill of the air prickling your skin, a familiar voice shouting down the hall made your blood run cold. The words were indistinct, but the rage behind them was unmistakable. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you quickened your pace, your pulse pounding.

When you turned the corner, the scene stopped you in your tracks. James had Barty pinned against the wall, his fist gripping the collar of Barty’s shirt. His face was twisted in fury, his voice shaking as he snarled at him. A small crowd of students had gathered, whispering and watching the spectacle unfold.

“You think you can just hurt her?” James spat, slamming Barty against the stone wall. “You think there wouldn’t be consequences?”

Barty didn’t fight back. He stood there, taking every shove, his face pale and hollow, but his eyes- his eyes betrayed him. They weren’t empty; they were frantic, burning with guilt, fear, and something that terrified you when they flicked to your own. He didn’t even seem to register James’s words. His entire focus was on you, standing frozen in the hallway.

Sirius leaned casually against the wall nearby, a cigarette dangling from his lips, though his sharp eyes were anything but relaxed. “Go on, Prongs,” he muttered, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Give him hell.”

Your voice cracked as you shoved through the onlookers. “James, stop!” You shouted, panic lacing your words. But James didn’t hear you, his rage blinding him as he shoved Barty again, his voice trembling with emotion. 

“You don’t get to treat her like that, to use her, and walk away like nothing happened!” James’s fist cocked back, and you screamed again, louder this time. “James!”

Sirius turned, startled by the desperation in your voice. He immediately straightened, stepping toward James. “Mate,” Sirius hissed, grabbing James’s shoulder. “She’s here.”

James froze, his chest heaving as he turned to look at you. His face softened the instant he saw the tears streaking your cheeks, but the tension in his body didn’t fade entirely. He let go of Barty’s shirt with a sharp shove, his hands falling to his sides. 

Barty stumbled back, his hand reaching up to rub his neck, but his eyes were locked on you. His voice was hoarse and trembling when he finally spoke. “Please…” His gaze was raw, desperate. “Please, just talk to me.”

You froze, the pain in his eyes tugging at something in your chest even as you recoiled from him. “I don’t want to-”

“She doesn’t need to,” Remus’s voice cut in, low but firm as he stepped in front of you. He placed a steady hand on your arm, keeping you rooted beside him. “That's all, Crouch.”

Barty flinched at the tone in Remus’s voice, but he didn’t look away from you. “I just need a moment,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “Just one chance to explain- she has to know that I didn’t mean-” 

“Bartemius.” Remus said sharply, though his tone never rose. His calmness was like a dam, holding back the chaos in the room. He stepped forward slightly, his hand still on your arm. “That's all.”

Barty’s shoulders sagged, his face crumpling as he looked at you one last time. “I love you.” He whispered, his voice so broken it sent a chill down your spine. “You have to know that.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Remus gently tugged you closer to him, shielding you from Barty’s gaze. “Come on,” he murmured softly. “Let’s go.”

As Lily took your other side, guiding you down the hallway, you could feel Barty’s eyes following you, like he was clinging to the sight of you as his last lifeline. Behind you, Sirius muttered something sharp under his breath before stomping out his cigarette and following James, who stood frozen, his jaw tight as he stared after you.

You felt like a pathetic child. Being ushered around and babied, but you didn't fight it. You wanted this nightmare of a year to be over. 

So when Regulus and Evan finally came, and the Black brothers shared some hateful words- and Lily dragged James away from the impending fight, you stayed hidden under Remus’s arm. The yelling and the arguments just sounded like buzzing in your ears. Leaving you to stare blankly off at the mess you had created. Watching as Evan took Barty away and Regulus glanced at you with an expression that flashed between sour, sympathetic, and careful. Turning on his heel to hurry after his friends. You wanted this year to end.

~~~

The rest of your sixth year at Hogwarts passed in a haze. After the confrontation between James and Barty, you felt like you were living in fragments- moments of warmth with your friends interrupted by long, suffocating stretches of numbness. James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, and Peter had rallied around you, protective and supportive, but the pain lingered. Barty’s betrayal, his mark, the weight of his choices. It all clung to you, no matter how hard you tried to shake it.

The school year ended with bittersweet farewells. James and everyone graduated, leaving behind an emptiness that Hogwarts couldn’t fill. On the train ride home, James gave you a fierce hug, his voice low but steady. “You’re going to be okay.” He whispered, as if saying it enough times would make it true. “We’ll all be okay.” His determination was a promise: he would fight, protect, and do whatever it took to keep you and the people he loved safe. It terrified how how devoted to the war he became, he hated to leave you at Hogwarts alone.

But the summer brought its own heartbreak. James and Lily joined the Order of the Phoenix, Sirius, Peter, and Remus close behind- throwing themselves into the war. The house was too quiet without James’s booming laugh or Sirius’s teasing remarks. Letters from James came sporadically, and the tension in his words bled through the parchment. 

Then, not long after James and Lily’s wedding, your world shattered. Your parents got sick and you hardly left their bed side. They died days apart and you wondered if that's what it looks like; real love. Not able to be apart for even a week before returning to one another no matter what disaster they left behind. Though, you knew it wasn't true, just your own comfort. James, crushed under the weight of his grief, threw himself further into the Order. You rarely saw him. Remus kept you company as best he could, but even he had missions that pulled him away. Sirius made sure to remind you that James just wanted to protect what little family he had left, it killed you to not be there with them. The isolation was unbearable, every goodbye feeling like it could be the last. The ache of losing your family was only worsened by the fear that the rest of the people you loved would follow.

When you returned for your seventh year, Hogwarts felt hollow, almost unfamiliar without James, Sirius, or the others. But Dorcas Meadowes was there, refusing to leave you to fend for yourself. She became your constant companion, the person you leaned on most. The two of you forged a quiet understanding- she never pushed you to talk about Barty, and you never asked about the darkness she’d left behind. Dorcas was the girl who had escaped the worst parts of her legacy, a beacon of strength and resilience that kept you grounded.

Still, no matter how far you tried to distance yourself from Barty, he remained a presence in your life. Letters appeared on your bed, scribbled with frantic apologies. Flowers were left outside your dormitory door, wilting reminders of his desperation. He cornered you in empty corridors, his green eyes burning with longing as he begged you to listen.

“I love you,” He whispered one evening, his voice breaking as he blocked your path outside the library. “I’ve always loved you- since we were kids. You have to know that. What I did- it wasn’t about hurting you. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought…” He trailed off, his hands trembling at his sides. “I need you, star. I can’t do this without you.”

You clenched your fists, your chest tightening at the raw emotion in his voice. His words always left a mark, reopening wounds you were desperately trying to heal. “Barty.” You whispered quietly, your voice shaking. “You need to let me go. This… this isn’t love. Not when it hurts this much.”

He flinched as though you’d slapped him, his eyes filling with tears. “It is love,” He insisted, stepping closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve never felt this before- it's terrifying. I haven't been in this much pain before. I’d give you anything- everything- if you just came back to me. Star I can't do this.”

You shook your head, your breath hitching. “That’s not what I want. I don't like feeling like this either, Barty. I wanted you, Barty. But you made your choice. Your cause- what they have done to my family alone-”

Despite your protests, the line between you blurred one night near the end of the school year. He found you in the Astronomy Tower, the only place you could escape responsibility. The sight of him made your heart ache. He looked so much like the boy you had fallen for; tousled hair, eyes filled with a longing so fierce it made your knees weak. And for a moment, you forgot yourself.

“I hate what I’ve done to you,” He confessed, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “I hate that I’ve hurt you. But I can’t stop loving you.”

The vulnerability in his voice cracked something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, your lips met his. The kiss was frantic, desperate. His hands cradled your face as though you were something sacred, something he couldn’t bear to lose. For a fleeting moment, you let yourself drown in him, in the memory of what you once had.

But as quickly as it began, reality crashed over you. You pulled away, your breathing uneven as tears blurred your vision. “We can’t.” You whispered, stepping back. “This isn’t right.”

Barty reached for you, his voice trembling. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t walk away again. I’ll change- I’ll leave everything behind if that’s what it takes. Just… don’t leave me.”

The sincerity in his words nearly broke you, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “If you loved me, you would’ve chosen me before it came to this,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “But it’s too late, Barty. You can’t undo what’s been done. We both.. we both know if it came to me or Regulus- me or Evan.”

“That's not fair.” He croaked.

Your eyes flicked up to his as your tears rushed down your face. “It isn't.”

His shoulders slumped, the light in his eyes dimming as your words sank in. For the first time, he seemed to realize that no amount of pleading or promises would bring you back to him. “I’ll always love you.” whispered, his voice hollow.

You turned away, your heart shattering as you walked down the spiral staircase, leaving him alone in the tower. You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. You knew if you did, you’d lose your resolve.

When the train pulled into King’s Cross at the end of the year, you were greeted by the sight of your brother and his friends waiting for you. James’s grin was wide as he swept you into a bear hug, and for the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe again. Sirius ruffled your hair, Remus gave you a reassuring smile, and Lily’s arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. 

Even as you smiled, as you let yourself feel the warmth of their love and support, a part of you still ached. A part of you still thought of the boy you had left behind. But as the summer sun warmed your face and James’s laughter rang in your ears, you realized that some chapters had to end, no matter how much they hurt.

~~~

The kitchen was warm, filled with the comforting smell of breakfast and the sound of soft laughter. Lily twirled Harry in her arms, humming along to the radio as James danced beside them, making ridiculous faces to elicit another bright giggle from his son. Harry’s laughter rang out like a bell, pure and joyful, filling the room with a happiness so genuine it felt almost untouchable.

June 24, 1981. The day meant nothing and yet everything, because for a fleeting moment, life felt like it was untouched by war. Even without Peter, the Potter manor felt like home again. 

Sirius leaned against the counter, a mischievous grin lighting his face as he watched James spin Harry dramatically before dipping him like a proper ballroom partner. “Fancy a dance, Bambi?” Sirius asked, holding out a hand to you with an exaggerated flourish.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. “Only if you promise not to step on my feet, Black.” You placed your hand in his, letting him pull you into the center of the kitchen. The music was upbeat, and Sirius matched it with absurdly exaggerated movements, twirling you around with flair that made you laugh so hard you had to clutch his shoulder for balance.

Sirius finally let out a mock sigh, fanning himself. “Too much for me, little Potter.” He joked, stepping aside. “Your turn, Moony. Show her how a real gentleman dances.”

Remus chuckled softly, stepping forward with a shake of his head. He took your hand with a gentleness that made your heart ache, pulling you into a slower, steadier rhythm despite the lively tune still playing on the radio. Even with his weight pressed heavy on his crutch, and your movements small and slow, it still felt all the same. His gaze lingered on yours, his hazel eyes soft and filled with something you couldn’t quite name. 

"You deserve this.” He muttered quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. “To smile like this every day.” 

The warmth of his words filled your chest, but it was bittersweet, a reminder of all the times you hadn’t felt this light. You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a small smile. “You do too, Remus.”

He returned the smile, spinning you one last time before James swept in with dramatic flair, lifting you off the ground. “One more dance before breakfast!” He announced, making you laugh despite yourself. “No sad faces allowed today. We’re celebrating.”

It was perfect- the kind of moment you could tuck away and hold onto when the world outside felt unbearable. Lily danced with Harry in her arms, Sirius joined in with exaggerated moves, and the room filled with the kind of happiness you hadn’t felt in so long. For a brief, fragile moment, it was enough.

But then the music stopped.

The radio cut out abruptly, replaced by the somber voice of a news broadcaster. “We interrupt this broadcast to bring you an urgent update on the latest casualties in the ongoing conflict. The names of those lost in the recent skirmish include…”

The warmth of the room vanished, the light dimming as everyone froze. James set you down gently, his expression hardening as he turned toward the radio. Lily instinctively clutched Harry closer, her face pale. Sirius’s grin disappeared entirely, his hand hovering near the dial as though he could will the news away.

The list of names continued, some familiar, most not. Each one was a reminder of the growing cost of the war, of the lives slipping away like grains of sand.

And then you heard it.

“...Evan Rosier, Bartemius Crouch Junior…”

The words echoed in your ears, louder than anything else. The world seemed to stop. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, as the name repeated in your mind, over and over. Barty. 

The boy who had loved you so fiercely, who had been so lost, so desperate to make you stay. He was gone. Evan too, another name tethered to your past, but it was Barty’s that struck you like a knife to the chest.

At first, you laughed. You could of sworn James looked at you like you had lost it; you wouldn't blame him. It was ridiculous. The boy you knew, the magnetic and ethereal wizard who you gave your all too couldn't possibly be dead. He was your age. He was a kid. You had both just graduated- what in Merlin's name could they possibly be on about? 

Your laughter slowly died down into a choked gasp and a sniffle, your body stiff. You closed your eyes tight and tried to stifle your sobs. “No…” Your knees buckled, and James caught you instantly, his arm tightening around your shoulders. Sirius reached out, shutting off the radio with a harsh click, the silence that followed deafening. 

“He…” Your voice cracked, trembling as you forced the words out. “He’s really gone?”

Remus stepped closer, his expression pained. He placed a hand on your shoulder, steady and comforting. “Yes,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Lily’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she rocked Harry gently, trying to keep him calm. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. The sound of her grief only deepened the ache in your chest.

James pressed his nose to your temple, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’m sorry, Bambi,” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

The tears came before you could stop them, spilling freely as your body trembled. You clung to James like he was the only thing keeping you grounded, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. The memories of Barty overwhelmed you; the way he’d looked at you, like you were his everything; the way he’d held you, as though letting go would destroy him. The thought that you would never see him again, never hear his voice or feel his touch, crushed you.

“I thought I was over him.” You whispered through your tears, your voice trembling. “I swore I was. But now…”

Sirius moved closer, his arm wrapping around you and James. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “We’ve got you.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your throat felt too tight, the lump of grief choking you. You lifted your head to look around the room, at the faces of the people who had been your family for so long. They were blurry through your tears, but their love was palpable, a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

Still, the ache remained, deep and unrelenting. Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you had moved on, a part of you would always carry Barty. His loss wasn’t just his death; it was the loss of what could have been, the love that might have saved him if only things had been different. If only he chose it. Because you and Barty were a Hogwarts fling, everyone knows they don't last forever. But even if it crashed in a blazing glory, even if you both turned bitter, if the break up destroyed you. You'd rather feel that.

The kitchen felt colder now, the warmth of the morning replaced by the sobering weight of reality. And yet, as James held you tightly, as Sirius and Remus stayed close, as Lily hummed softly to soothe Harry, you knew you weren’t alone. Even in the face of heartbreak, you were still surrounded by love. And somehow, you would find a way to carry on.

~~~ Bonus Scene~~~

The house was suffocating in its silence.

Your childhood home, once filled with laughter and the chaotic warmth of your family, now seemed cold and lifeless. James and Lily were busy with their own lives, preparing for the future that everyone whispered about in cautious tones, and Sirius had left for good reason you couldn’t fault him for. You were alone, and the empty hallways of the Potter Manor only amplified the echo of your own thoughts.

It had been days since you’d learned the news of what befell Barty.

After the shock ran over you it took days of Remus coaxing to get you out of bed. Then days to be able to face a mirror. Everyone was supportive, helpful, but you felt just as pathetic as you did in school.

The ache in your chest felt heavier tonight as you climbed the stairs to your old room. The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting long, pale shadows across the walls. You reached your room and pushed the door open, slipping inside and locking it with a flick of your wand. It was habit more than anything; no one else was here.

You set your wand on the bedside table and turned toward the window, intent on shutting the heavy curtains, when a hand clamped over your mouth.

Panic erupted within you, and instinct took hold. Without thinking, you threw your head back as hard as you could, the satisfying crack of impact reverberating through your skull. A sharp, pained grunt followed, and the grip on you loosened.

Spinning around, your heart hammering in your chest, you braced for a fight- only to come face to face with the last person you’d expected to see.

“Bloody hell, star,” Barty groaned, one hand pressed to his nose as he leaned against the wall for support. Blood trickled between his fingers, but his lips still curled into that maddeningly familiar smirk. “That’s twice you’ve done that. Are you always this violent, or am I special?”

The air left your lungs, your body frozen in place. “No.” You whispered, shaking your head as if the motion could erase what you were seeing. “No. You’re- You’re supposed to be dead.”

Barty let out a low chuckle, straightening up and swiping at the blood on his face. “I think.. we should talk.”

Part two -->

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? - Part 1

In which something magical begins.

Warnings: none, just a bit of mutual pining. but this will be an angsty one i think. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Words: 2.6k

Master List

(a/n: new series alert! friends to lovers featuring lando norris. this one will be several parts spanning from 2019 to present day. I've tried my hardest to make sure the timeline/race results are accurate but I may have adjusted something to make it work a bit better for the story line. this is a total work of fiction, purely for entertainment.)

February 2019 

Woking, Surry, England

“This is not going to be a year of partying and laziness, Chiquita.” Carlos throws you a sidelong glance as he pulls his new McLaren into a parking spot early one February morning. “You are here with me to work, not spend your gap year playing.” 

“If I’m here to work, then you can’t me ‘little girl’ while we’re here, Carlos.” You bite back, hauling your tote bag from the floor of the low slung sports car. 

Carlos chuckles, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you both begin the walk into his new workplace: the McLaren Technology Center. “Fair enough, Chiquita.” 

Last spring, you had graduated from high school and had spent one miserable semester at the University of Madrid in the fall before dropping out just a few months ago. 

Carlos dodges the swat that you aim at his bicep, taking a few quick steps ahead of you as you approach the front door of the large white building. The sprawling MTC is an intimidating building and you knew that if you hadn’t been here with Carlos, there was no way you’d be able to find your way. 

After spending a few listless months bouncing from Carlos’ couch in Monaco back to your parent’s estate in Spain, they had laid down the law. You needed to figure out what you were going to do for the foreseeable future if going back to University wasn’t in the cards for you at the moment. They were fine with you not going back to uni right away, in fact, they encouraged you to take a gap year but they expected you to do something productive with your life while you figured out what you wanted to do. 

And that had been when your older brother had entered the chat. He had finished third year as a Formula 1 driver a few months ago and would be changing teams come the new season in March. In December, he had parted ways with his long time assistant, who wanted to spend more time with her new husband and less time traveling. Carlos and you had always been the closest of the four Sainz siblings despite the six year age gap (his 25 years to your 19) so it had been the most natural thing in the world to have you be his assistant and social media manager for the 2019 F1 season. 

Up until today, Carlos had been attending pre-season meetings and putting time in at McLaren’s sim setup by himself but you had arrived at his flat five minutes from the MTC yesterday, suitcases in hand, ready to get started as your brother’s assistant. It had been ages since the two of you had spent this much time together and while you were mostly excited to spend the year traveling and reconnecting with your big brother, there was a bit of trepidation and anxiety sitting in your chest as you walked through those sliding glass doors this morning. 

You were barely 19 after all, little real world experience and you knew absolutely no one in this entire country beyond your brother. All of your friends were attending university in other countries, far away from the world you now found yourself in. Yes, you were excited but you were also insanely nervous. 

Carlos leads you down a long hallway, lined with trophy cases filled with motorsport winners trophies on one side and sleek F1 cars on the other. It was an entire shrine to McLaren history, of which there was a lot, and you were in awe as you followed after your brother. “Where are we going?” You ask as he turns down another quiet hallway, convinced you’d be utterly lost if Carlos asked you to show him how to get back to the front doors. 

“I have a little office tucked away back here next to Lando’s, I wanted to get you set up with the laptop and sync my calendar so you could get yourself ready.” 

You nod, ears perking up at the mention of your brother’s new teammate, Lando Norris. You knew a little about him from a few causal Google searches. He was 19 like you and this was his rookie season in Formula 1. From everything you read, he was a karting prodigy that had been signed by McLaren for a while and had been tapped to drive opposite of Carlos this year. Just knowing that there would be someone around the offices and on the road that was your age made the tight anxiety that sat in your chest ease just a touch, even if you two didn’t end up being more than acquaintances this year. 

Carlos hadn’t been lying about his ‘little’ office. It was barely more than a broom closet if you were being honest. Just enough room for a desk, a pair of chairs, and a bookshelf, but there was a large window that faced south so at least there’d always be sun spilling into the small space making it feel a little airier. 

You pull your MacBook out of the Dior tote Carlos had gotten you for your birthday last year as Carlos chatters away about schedules, press duties, and what he expected out of you. You listened carefully, taking notes in a little spiral bound notebook as you waited for your laptop to boot up. 

“Are you in here talking to yourself again, Carlitos?” 

Your head snaps up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and you find yourself smiling at the boy standing in the doorway. He’s a few inches taller than you, with short brown hair, and bright green eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes. The deep tan of his skin surprises you a bit, considering its February in England and you hadn’t seen the sun since you left Spain yesterday. 

The boy’s face instantly sobers when he sees that your brother isn’t alone. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He blushes, hand coming to cup the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize you had a guest.” 

Carlos laughs, “This isn’t a guest. This is my sister, the one I was telling you about Friday. She’s going to be my assistant this year.” 

“Of course, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lando.” 

You stand, crossing the small office in just 2 quick strides to shake Lando’s outstretched hand, “Nice to meet you too, Lando.” You say, polite smile playing on your lips. 

Lando turned around then, not wanting to intrude on the sibling time but also needing a moment to collect himself. He had known that you would be spending the season with your bother and that you two were around the same age but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was for how pretty you were. Your hair was even darker than your brother’s and it tumbled over your shoulders in layered waves that shined in a way that made Lando’s mouth go a little dry. Those dark eyes, round and doe eyed, threatened to swallow Lando whole and he’d barely spent more than a handful of seconds in your orbit.

He leaned against the door frame leading into his office, the sound of your laughter drifting through the walls. He had been used to the constant travel that was required of drivers of his caliber, having spent most of his teenage years on the road but all that time, he always had someone with him. His father, mother, manager. Someone that was ‘in charge’ of him and his schedule.

Now though? Now everything is different. He’s of age, a driver in the pinnacle league of his chosen sport, and totally alone. His friends are either jealous of his success or away at school and Lando often finds himself spending the entire weekend alone in his little flat down the road from the MTC. He was happy, of course, ecstatic that he had been given this chance by McLaren but the truth of the matter was, Lando Norris was quite lonely. 

As the image of your face flickered through his mind, Lando felt the tight grip of anxiety ease just a little bit. There was something so open about the way you had greeted him, something about how easy your laugh seemed to come, that told Lando that you were a good person, someone that would somehow be very important to him this year. 

“That is your teammates sister, mate.” Lando mutters to himself as he pushes off the door frame, making a beeline for the sim rig that was on the other side of the MTC, hoping that the time spent focused on racing would be enough to get your image out of his brain. 

April 2019 

Baku City Circuit 

“Lando, I swear to God if you’ve slept in again I’m ordering fish whenever I eat with you for the rest of my life.” 

Somewhere between Australia and China, you had morphed into not only Carlos’ personal assistant but also the assistant and babysitter of sorts to his stupid, idiotic, hilarious teammate. You adored the boy but most of the time he drove you to the brink of absolute madness. 

“I didn’t sleep in! My alarm didn’t go off!” Lando groans, breathless on the other end of the phone. 

“That is literally the same thing. I have one simple job here, Norris: get you and my brother to where they belong during race weekends and right now? You’re making me look like an amateur.” 

“I just got into the paddock, relax darling, no one is even remotely close to being fined by the FIA. I’ll be on the fan stage in five minutes, meet me there?” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you desperately try to will away the Landache, the term you’ve come up with when you get a headache caused by the Brit. “Fine.” You breathe. 

It’s your fourth race of the season and while Lando and your brother were seemingly hell bent on driving you to an early retirement, you had never been happier. Managing the busy schedule and life of now two Formula 1 drivers had come naturally to you. Engineers and mechanics in the garage were always a little in awe of your ability to keep the two drivers in line and where they needed to be when. The communications team at McLaren loved you because sometimes, you were the only one who would be able to get the Carlando, as the duo was coming to be known as, to behave. 

It was total chaos pretty much all of the time but you were thriving. You and Carlos were closer than ever, working tighter like a well oiled machine. But Lando and you? You two were the textbook definition of Partners In Crime. While you were the picture of professionalism on the track and during business hours, you were the other half of the chaos gremlin duo that terrorized half the grid. 

Right now though? Now the chaos gremlin was the perfect paddock princess that had to make sure her best friend and brother got to the right places on time. You round the corner of the back stage area, desperately searching for the mop of wavy brown hair covered by a papaya colored hat. 

“Lando!” You call, relieved when your dark eyes catch with a familiar pair light colored eyes. Today, they were an icy blue thanks to the bright desert sun of Baku. “I didn’t think I had to add ‘alarm’ to my list of race weekend duties.” You grouse, brushing at the dust on his team polo. 

Lando shakes his head, easy smile spreading across his face. “Am I late though?” 

You glare at him, “No.” You huff. 

“I would never make you look bad, pretty girl.” He winks and your stupid stomach does its traitorous little flip that it’s been doing lately. It’s disgusting. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.” 

“And please welcome to the stage, McLaren drivers Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris!” The presenter calls from behind Lando’s shoulder, interrupting your sparring match. 

Lando gives you a wink before spinning around following your brother up the stairs of the stage. 

July, 2019

Germany 

“That was my fifth DNF this year.” The pain in Lando’s voice sends your stomach twisting. You follow behind him, hands wringing together, as he stalks down the hallway of the hotel in Germany. The race had finished up hours ago but Lando had just been released from media duties a bit ago. Carlos had been caught up in some post-race meetings so you had hitched a ride back to the hotel with Lando instead but now, as you followed his stiff frame stalk down the hall, you wondered if that had been a good idea. 

“Lando, it wasn’t your fault. Your car lost power, it’s not like you binned it into the wall or anything.” 

Reaching his room, Lando stops and pulls out the key before letting himself in. He leaves the door open though, indicating he wanted you to follow him. “I know that.” He groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. The hotel room is pretty normal where hotels are concerned, 2 queen sized beds dominate the space with a large flat screen tv on the opposite side. Lando flops down on the farthest bed, his eyes closed. 

“I’ve barely finished in the points yet this season. Haven’t had a sniffing chance at a podium. I feel like such a fucking fraud.” 

You had stopped just inside the door, wanting to give Lando some space as he had his tantrum but now, seeing how truly upset he is, you cross the carpeted floor and sit down next to your best friend. “Lan.” You coo, running your fingers through his hair, knowing how the scratches from your nails relaxes him. “Lan, it’s okay. You knew coming in, just like Carlos, that McLaren is in a bit of a rebuilding stage. This isn’t unexpected.” 

The problem with Lando is that he is utterly too hard on himself. You had clocked the fact quickly, by the time you had been landing in Australia for the first race of the season, you knew he needed to work on his confidence. 

“I know. I mean, I don’t know but I know that you know and I trust you enough to know that you know what you know is right.” 

Your head spins. “Pardon me?” 

Laughter spilling from your lips pops the bubble of tension in the room, Lando unable to keep the smile off his face either.

“You heard me.” He gripes, sitting up. “And I know -” He stops, glaring at you when you double over with laughter once again. “I know you understood me, you cheeky monkey.” 

“I’m sorry but I’m just so terrified by the fact that I did understand that whirlwind of a sentence and can’t decide how to process it.” You say, chest heaving from laughing so hard. “We’ve been spending too much time together.” 

Lando grabs the remote from your hand before turning on the movie you had both fallen asleep to last night before the race. “Are you going to be mean to me all night, or are we going to finish this movie?” 

You roll your eyes, but toe off your shoes before settling against the headboard of the bed, shoulder bumping with Lando’s as he joins you. “Pizza or sushi for dinner?” You ask, grinning because you already know the answer. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Love you too, Lan.” You counter, pulling out your phone to order some pizza. 

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16

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[gguk-n]

Transition (Charles Leclerc x Driver!Reader)

Part 2 of Replaced

Summary- After being kicked out of Ferrari rather rudely, Y/N must try to find a seat in the ever changing driver's market in the craziest year at Formula One till date.

{Reader's POV}

After leaving our home in Monaco, I spent the next couple of months regrouping with my team. I visited my family to clear my head; my mother always knew what to do in a difficult situation. She was the brains of the family. After a long and deep talk with her I realised what I wanted with the future. Number 1, I wanted to race in Formula One until I was 60. Number 2, I wanted a team that loved, valued and respected me as their driver. Number 3, last but not the least, I wanted to be paid more than what Ferrari was paying me.

Every team on the grid was open for picking except McLaren. Mercedes was losing their star driver, RedBull had to negotiate with Checo; the two teams I was eyeing right now. If I knew Horner and if I played my cards right, having a female driver on his team would change the dynamic and bring more spot light on the team. If Toto signed me, he would be replacing one iconic person with another; enough to make headlines.

The first race of the season hurt, I couldn't believe the next 24 races would be my last time in red, I couldn't fake the smiles. It hurt every time I saw Charles. We met for the first time since I left a day before Bahrain's media day. He looked as handsome as ever but his eyes held this deep seated sadness, you could see it. "Been a while" Charles almost whispered when our eyes met in the hotel. "It has, I've missed you" I replied. "I've missed you too" he almost cried out wrapping me in his arms. "The last few months were torture. You'll come home now, right?" he asked still holding me in his embrace. "Charles" I began, he pulled away, tears visible in his eyes, "I'll come back soon, mon tout. I need time" I mumbled. "How long will that be, mon cherie?" he asked. I wiped the tear that slipped out of his eyes, "The day I sign a team, I'll move back. I'll know my future and I'll finally be able to look at you without jealousy" I said. "OK" he nodded, kissing me for the first time since we met. "Je vous aime" he stated. "Je t'aime aussi" I replied back.

I finished P2 in the first race of the season. All the media and commentary were going crazy. It felt nice to finish P2. Max was fun to talk to post race during the cool down. He was always the more level headed one in our friendship. Max asked me about how things were between the two off us away from the prying eyes of the media who had already started to announce an imminent break up between the two of us. "He's been shit, since you left" Max spoke. "I'm sorry" I apologised. "oh no, don't apologise to me. I was just stating the obvious." he shook his head. "I heard you're talking to Horner" he commented. "Yeah, we're discussing but like I'm discussing with a lot of teams, honestly." I replied. "As you should, I think it would be fun....if we were team mates." he replied thoughtfully. "I wouldn't mind terrorising Charles in a RedBull" I laughed.

The next few races were quite memorable with me on the podium for every race. It was a proud feeling, a bitter sweet one though. Charles only saw me at race weekends but that was the nature of the sport, didn't mean that I didn't love him any less.

The talks with RedBull fell through since I wasn't able to bring in the kind of sponsors they wanted and the dream of driving in one too. Mercedes was very iffy, where Toto wanted to bring a new driver on the grid; while I was still effectively seatless. But Susie was a smart woman, she knew having me on the team after the void Lewis would leave, would do wonders since I was the first and only female driver on the grid in a really long time and having me would bring the similar kind of publicity, if not the same.

After months of back and forth, and negotiating; Toto agreed bringing a junior driver in too early wouldn't benefit anyone. I would race for Mercedes for the next 2 years and if the options opened up I didn't mind letting Toto have his little fantasy. My announcement would happen in Monza, the home of the tifosi. The perfect time and place. I had moved back in with Charles after the contract was signed. I did not tell him that I planned to announce it in Monza. Charles was just happy to have me back.

Mercedes made the announcement just before free practise, effectively ruining any plans the media had, it played in my favour and I had a ball. "You love drama don't you" Charles laughed. "What can I say? I have a knack for the theatrics" I laughed along. "Quoting Chandler are we?" Charles muttered kissing me as he said it. The days leading up to the race were crazy. As both me and Charles got ready to get into the car he said, "Can't wait to see you in black. You look hotter in black anyways" "Hope to be your teammate again in the future" I nodded as we put our helmets on. Charles won the team's home race. I missed the podium by a smidge, but knowing my future was secure didn't make the loss saddening.

As Charles got down from the podium to meet me, Arthur handed him something. "I thought, whether I finish podium or not I'd ask you this but as a 2 time Monza winner sounds so much cooler." he rambled. "What are you talking about Charles?" I questioned. He got down on one knee, the crowd went silent. "Will you Y/N Y/L/N do the honour of making me your husband?" he asked. I had tears in my eyes, "Yes" I nodded. Charles slipped the ring on my finger and kissed me. I could taste the champagne on his lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss while pulling his hair. We pulled away to a lot of hooting and screaming. "Wow" Charles exclaimed. "That's the hottest thing you've done till date, I think I'm hard" he said. "I'm staking my claim." I stated. "I'm always yours, now and forever" he replied. "Can't believe we'll have two Leclerc's on the grid next year." I commented. "Can't wait to race you Mrs Leclerc" he said kissing me again.

[omgfangirlland]

How do you think it would go if let's say.. Before joker became a joker.. He had a wife and that wife is reader. She was always there for joker until joker just ghosted her or something when he started to go crazy. Later on, reader meets Bruce and they somehow fall in love (reader has that Mary Sue rizz).

-🔱

Sorry I haven't posted a drabble in a hot minute-

Fallout 3 is an addictive thing, and I should have known better than to believe the father would stay alive, considering I finished Fallout 4 a year ago...

ANYWAY- bit of timeline shenanigans cuz I'm like 90% sure Jack falling into the vat of acid happened long before Dick Grayson, but for my plot it's during-

CW: yandere/stalker bruce

You knew something was wrong as soon as Jack didn't come home. Sure, sometimes he'd be late, but you'd always wake up with the man suffocating you with the clingy way he'd wrap his arms around you, holding you so tight- like he was afraid to lose you.

That was eight years ago. One year ago, Jack Nappier was declared dead, and you were left a widow with an empty grave to mourn over. The police, eight years ago, didn't even want to believe you, just brushed it off as the man being drunk in a ditch- not unlike the other married men in Park Row.

But you knew your Jack. So you fought on it, you fought until someone would listen, and Gordon did- promised you up and down that he'll do everything to find your husband- and then, a month in, he... changed. The man looked guilty as he told you he didn't have any updates, and before you could ask anything further, he scurried away.

You never trusted the police, no one living in Crime Alley does. Gordon was the nail in the coffin that sealed that belief forever.

They would have declared him dead on day one if they could have, but they had to wait seven years, and with those seven years up, the papers were drawn and signed, and Gordon paid for the funeral before anyone else could, before Bruce could.

You hated it.

And your Jack would have hated it too. He wanted to be cremated, his ashes to be turned into "one of them fake sparkly stones" so you could always have a piece of him.

You had to move on with your life, whether Jack left you and ran away with someone else or is actually dead, both were painful options. You got your degree one year after his disappearance and started teaching a few months later.

You... don't know what possessed you to do this- to jump from your window, on the fucking Batman of all people, just so Jason, a kid you've known since he was five, could run away before the bat started swinging.

Yeah, it didn't work out the way you hoped.

"You jumped out from the third-"

"Second."

Batman's eye twitches as he takes in a breath, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as you sit where he plopped you, the hood of the batmobile. "-Second. Floor, on my back, just because you thought I would hit a child?" Bruce ignored how Jason kept swinging the tire iron at his padded knee.

"... Yeah..." You shrugged. Jason gave up after two more swings, huffing and whining with exhaustion. "What even are you?!"

"Is he your kid?"

While the question made you stumble over your words, Jason was quick to yell a yes- and he wasn't lying in his mind, you were more of a mother than his ever was. "Don't you dare touch her- you- you- big b-"

As Jason tried to swing again, this time aiming for the bat's balls, Bruce was quick in grabbing the tire iron from the boy. "Aww..." Jason pouted.

Bruce knew the boy wasn't your son. He knew, because for eight years or so, he's been your shadow, not your stalker, shadow. There was a difference- he was protecting you, making up for what he's done to your ex-husband.

He may have slipped a few times, loomed too close, slipped into your room as you slept- just to make sure you're still breathing! And, well, if he took a thing or two, he always returned them- he tried to, anyway.

This was fine- not the part of you jumping so recklessly out of a window- but the opportunity of actually talking to you. It wasn't for long, but he was willing to play the long game.

It was fruitful, slow, but it got him what he wanted.

It started with Jason, initially he wanted to just send the boy to a troubled youth school, but seeing how close he was to you, and how dedicated he was, Bruce may have manipulated him a bit.

"You do want to keep her safe, right? You can't do that without training."

Jason was the one who took it as him being the next Robin, and Bruce didn't correct him, and when the time came, he sure as hell didn't stop him from modifying the costume to his liking. The boy deserves it after helping Bruce so much with you.

"Batman's really nice, could be a really cool boyfriend-"

It was childish, but you couldn't help but smile at Jason trying to play matchmaker. You knew he was the new Robin, it was hard not to when the first thing he did was crawl like a wet cat through your window to proudly show his costume off while acting like he didn't know you.

Granted, it worked.

Bruce first kissed you while he was bleeding on your couch, Jason napping away on your bed, that's also when you found out who Batman was.

"I want you to know. I want you to be in my life, every side of it."

He had whispered, and you just kissed him again. The next day, Bruce Wayne took you out on a date, by next week every tabloid had you two on the front page, and by next year, you were living in the Manor, nagging Dick and Jason to not leave everything to Alfred, and helping him every night with soft kisses and softer hands.

He wasn't scared you'd find out. He made sure you wouldn't. But if you did, that would be okay. Bruce won't let you go, no matter how hard you fight.

When Joker came back after being missing for two years, creating a ruckus left and right, Bruce made sure to play his cards right- first, the soft, off-hand comment that you should just stay home, work remotely, or just not at all. The chains were placed.

Then, bringing a worried Richard into it. "I just don't want to lose you like- like-" And the tearful face of Dick locked the chains. But what tightened them was Jason's whispered plea. "Please, ma, any one of our enemies could snatch you on the way home- I don't want to see you hurt like that."

But Bruce should have been more focused on Joker. He let him slip through the cracks, led the clown right to you with every loving outing, with every tabloid picture.

Jack won't have it. You were his before- you'll love him as Joker too.

[luvoooenha]

Fake skating

Summary- Y/N and Sunghoon have been ice skating rivals for as long as she can remember—or so she thinks. To Y/N, Sunghoon is the enemy: the boy who always outshines her on the ice, snatches her titles, her hard-earned moments, and, worst of all, her parents' approval. Their relentless comparisons and favoritism sting more than she'd ever admit. She tells herself she doesn’t care... but she does. She cares too much.

Worse still, ice skating—once something she loved—has become a prison. The pressure, the spotlight, and the constant race to beat Sunghoon have drained her. One day, something snaps. A small moment—maybe a stumble, a comment, or just a realization—hits her like a blade to the back of her head: She doesn’t have to do this anymore. Five months before the skating season begins, Y/N shocks everyone by quitting ice skating to pursue something unexpected—cheerleading.

The decision rocks their world. Her parents are furious. The skating world is stunned. And Sunghoon? He’s pissed. Not because he hates her like she thinks—but because he secretly loves skating with her. Ever since they were kids, she’s been his fire, his rival, his everything. Now, with her gone, the ice feels colder, emptier.

As Y/N flourishes in cheer, Sunghoon is forced to confront the truth: rivalry was never what he felt for her. And maybe… just maybe, Y/N is about to realize that too.

Paring- Ice skater! Sunghoon x Cheerleader! Y/N

warnings! angst, kissing, bad relationship with parents, peer pressure, contact with ex (ik yall need this one...), imposter syndrome (kinda), PDA, crying, pls lmk if I missed some!

wc: 18k

a/n- finished this in 9 hours (we all cheer!) im writing this bc I loved high school cheer 💞

Y/N had always hated Park Sunghoon. Not the kind of petty dislike you develop for someone in passing, but a deep, seething loathing that came from years of rivalry, of stolen victories, and spotlight-snatching. Sunghoon was everywhere. On the ice, in her coaches' praises, on her parents' lips.

 "Why can’t you be more like Sunghoon? Look how clean his footwork is. Look at that triple axel! He’s so dedicated."

Dedicated. Talented. Perfect.

And Y/N was always a step behind.

They had started skating together as kids, back when things were simpler. Back when ice skating was fun and not a competition. But everything changed the moment Sunghoon started winning, and Y/N didn’t. Not that she lost often, but even one second place behind him felt like failure in her parents' eyes.

Her hatred simmered with every medal he took home, every cheer from the crowd meant for her but redirected to him. He didn’t even try to be nice about it. Always calm, composed, with that smug little smirk when he bowed for applause.

She hated him. She hated him so much.

But Sunghoon? He didn’t hate her the way she thought he did. Sure, they argued, exchanged icy glares, and their banter could cut through titanium. But behind it all, his feelings weren’t made of hate. They were made of something else, something he didn’t dare speak aloud.

Because to him, Y/N wasn’t just a rival. She was the rival. The reason he pushed harder, trained longer, aimed higher. Skating with her, against her, was the thrill he lived for. He couldn't imagine a rink without her.

Then one day, everything changed.

Y/N stood in the center of the rink, her skates on for what would be the last time. She had made up her mind. The resentment, the pressure, the suffocating expectations—it was too much. She had started skating for herself, but now, it wasn’t even hers anymore. It belonged to her parents, to the judges, to Sunghoon.

As she landed her final jump, her coach's whistle cut through the rink like a blade.

"Stop! What was that? Are you even trying, Y/N? That performance was lifeless. Flat. Again! From the top."

Y/N blinked, sweat dripping down her face, lungs burning.

"Coach, I—"

"No excuses! You're sloppy. You think this half-hearted effort is going to win you anything? You want to keep embarrassing yourself next to Sunghoon? Because that’s all you’re doing lately. If you can’t keep up, maybe it’s time to rethink your priorities."

Something in Y/N cracked. The words slammed into her chest like a freight train, knocking the air out of her lungs. Her hands curled into fists as tears stung her eyes.

"You know what? You're right," she said, voice trembling. "I am rethinking my priorities. I'm done. I quit."

Silence fell over the rink. Her coach gaped, stunned. Sunghoon turned sharply, eyes wide.

There was a beat of silence before her coach let out a short laugh. "Very funny, Y/N. Now stop playing around and take your position again. From the top."

Y/N yanked off her skates, throwing them down with a thud. "I'm not joking! I can't do this anymore. I try my best, every single day, and it's never enough. I feel like I have to be perfect, like I have to be like Sunghoon or else I'm nothing! Do you know how exhausting that is? To give everything you have and still feel like you're falling short—like you're invisible?"

Her voice rose, cracking under the weight of years of bottled-up frustration. "I hate it! I hate how this feels! I used to love skating, but now it's just pressure and pain and—"

Her words choked off, and tears streamed down her face as she sank to her knees on the ice, sobbing for the first time since she was a little girl. Her shoulders shook with each breath, and the weight of years of pressure finally broke her.

Her coach froze, the laughter gone, replaced by awkward silence. "Y/N... come on now, don't be like this. You're just tired. Think about all the work you've put in, all the competitions ahead. You don't want to throw that away, do you? Think about your parents. They’ve sacrificed so much for you."

The guilt-tripping only made her cry harder. No one moved. No one spoke. For once, it wasn’t about winning or losing. It was just about her.

She had broken free, and it hurt like hell.

Grabbing her bag with trembling hands, Y/N stormed out of the rink, skates clenched tightly, boots clacking against the floor with every determined step. Her breaths came in sharp bursts, vision blurred by tears she couldn’t stop.

Behind her, Sunghoon watched, frozen for a moment, then took off after her. "Y/N! Wait!"

She didn’t stop. The door slammed open and she stepped into the cold air, needing space, distance—anything but him.

"Y/N!" Sunghoon called again, catching up to her in the parking lot. "Talk to me! You can’t just walk away like that."

She spun around, eyes blazing. "Why not? Why can’t I, Sunghoon? What do you want me to say? That I’m fine? That this doesn’t matter? It meant nothing to you, but it meant everything to me. And I can’t anymore. I just can’t."

He stared at her, stunned. "It didn’t mean anything. It never did."

But to Y/N, at that moment, his words were just noise.

She turned away, shoulders shaking, and kept walking.

When Y/N got home, her parents were waiting.

"What were you thinking?" her mother snapped. "You made a scene! Quitting? Is that your idea of a joke?"

"You embarrassed us," her father added, eyes cold. "After everything we’ve done for you, and this is how you repay us? Throwing it all away like it’s nothing? Do you know how much money we've spent on your training, the sacrifices we've made? Do you think this is some game?"

"I'm not a puppet!" Y/N screamed, her voice cracking from all the held-in anger. "You talk about sacrifices? I sacrificed myself for this stupid dream that wasn’t even mine! You never asked what I wanted. You just shoved me into skates and expected perfection. I’m done! I’m done killing myself to make you proud. I'm tired of being compared to Sunghoon like I'm nothing more than a failure."

Her mother stepped forward, face flushed with fury. "You ungrateful child! You think this is about what you want? We’ve given you everything—"

"No! You gave me pressure, and guilt, and a life that doesn’t belong to me! I don’t want it! I want to live for myself! I want to breathe, and choose my own future!"

Her father’s voice was low, dangerous. "You’re a junior in high school. You’ve got a future ahead of you—college recruiters are watching, scouts have shown interest. You’re going to throw away your shot at scholarships, your entire career—because of what? A tantrum?"Y/N’s hands trembled, but her voice was steel. "It’s not a tantrum. It’s me choosing my future. Maybe I don’t want to go to college for skating. Maybe I want to try something new, something that actually makes me happy. Maybe I want to cheer, or theater, or anything else. And if that means losing everything you planned for me, then so be it."

Her mother’s face twisted in disbelief. "You want to cheer? That’s what you’re throwing your life away for? After all our sacrifices, all our time, all our money—"

"It’s not your life!" Y/N shouted, eyes blazing with unshed tears. "It’s mine! And I’m taking it back."

Her father’s voice dropped to a growl. "If you walk away from this, from everything we’ve done for you—don’t expect our help. Not with college, not with anything. You’re on your own."

Y/N took a shaky breath, heart pounding. "I’m not asking for your support anymore. I don’t need it. I just need to be me."

Her parents stood in stunned silence, and for the first time, Y/N wasn’t afraid of their disappointment.

She was just Y/N, finally standing on her own.

Y/N dropped her bag onto the bedroom floor, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. She stood still for a moment, staring at the door like it might somehow close off the noise in her mind. The argument with her parents, the look on Sunghoon’s face, the stinging words she’d thrown in the heat of frustration—it all circled around her like a storm she couldn’t escape.

Her hand trembled as she picked up her phone. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until she saw the missed messages.

One from Sunghoon. A few from Yunjin. One from Coach Minji.

Her throat tightened again, this time with a feeling she couldn’t quite place. The fear of what Sunghoon might have said. They worry that Yunjin will be angry. And Minji… Well, Coach Minji’s messages were always a direct reflection of her expectations—something she was no longer sure she could meet.

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, phone still in her hands, staring at the screen. The world felt muffled, like she was floating just out of reach of everything she used to know. She had made her decision. It had been impulsive, almost reckless—but now, in the silence of her room, she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to face what came next.

Her thumb hovered over Sunghoon’s message. She could almost hear his voice through the screen, the sharpness of his anger, the disappointment, or maybe something else she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Yunjin’s messages were no better, her best friend undoubtedly full of concern, maybe even a little confusion. But it was Coach Minji’s message that lingered in her thoughts.

She opened it.

"Y/N, we need to talk. This decision is not something I take lightly, and neither should you. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow morning. I hope you’ve thought this through."

The words hit her harder than she expected. She had thought she was done, that walking away was the only way to free herself, but Minji’s message reminded her just how many people she was leaving behind—people who had invested in her. People who had believed in her when she couldn’t.

Her breath caught in her chest, and for a moment, the room felt impossibly small. What had she done?

Y/N stared at Coach Minji’s message for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the screen as if the words might change if she gave them enough time. But they didn’t. They were there, cold and final, a reminder of the world she had just walked away from. A world she thought she could never escape from.

She had always been good at pushing through—at burying the doubts and pushing down the guilt until it became a dull hum in the background. But now, it felt like the noise was deafening, every echo of her old life ringing in her ears.

The truth was, Y/N wasn’t sure when it had all started to feel like a cage, but she knew it had been a long time coming. For years, she had lived for the approval of her coaches, her parents, and the skating world. They’d made her believe that winning was everything. That titles and awards were all that mattered. But in the end, it was nothing but pressure. A pressure that had consumed her.

She had thought quitting would feel like freedom, like stepping into a space where she could breathe again. But now that the choice was made, the weight of it was heavy, like a stone in her chest. The fear of the unknown gnawed at her insides, but it was nothing compared to the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a life that wasn’t hers.

Her fingers hovered over the phone again, and she could almost hear Coach Minji’s disappointed tone in her mind, and could almost picture the stern look she would get in the rink tomorrow. But Y/N didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t going back. Not to skate. Not to that world.

She deleted the message from Minji without a second thought, her pulse racing as if the simple action was somehow going to release her from the grip of her past.

As for Sunghoon... Well, his message could wait.

Y/N didn’t know if she was ready to confront him yet. She didn’t know if she was ready to face the fact that everything she had believed about their rivalry—about him—might have been wrong. Maybe he wasn’t the enemy after all. Maybe he had been the only person who truly understood what it was like to be stuck in that world. But even the thought of confronting him, of having to talk through everything, felt too much. Too soon.

She wouldn’t respond to him. Not today. Maybe not ever.

Instead, she focused on the new path she was carving for herself. Cheerleading was different. It was wild, chaotic, loud—and most importantly, it was hers. No comparisons. No judgments. No constant fight to prove she was enough.

The pressure was gone. For the first time in years, Y/N could breathe. And that, she realized, was worth more than any title, any medal, or any coach’s approval.

She placed her phone face down on the nightstand and curled up under the covers, her mind still racing but with a sense of quiet resolve settling in. Tomorrow, she would step into a new world—one where she wasn’t defined by her past. One where, for the first time in forever, she could simply be herself.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt a flicker of hope.

The next morning, Y/N walked into school with her head held high, but the familiar buzz of the hallway felt different today. Normally, she would have felt energized, ready to push through another day of balancing practice, schoolwork, and everything in between. But today, everything felt off. Like the weight of her decision was following her, hanging over every step she took.

Yunjin caught up with her by the lockers, her usual bright energy replaced by something more cautious.

"Y/N, we need to talk," she said, her voice low but steady, like she knew Y/N had already made up her mind.

Y/N paused, biting her lip. She didn't want to face this yet, but Yunjin was her best friend. The one person who knew her better than anyone else, the one who always had her back. The thought of disappointing her hurt more than she cared to admit.

"What’s up?" Y/N said, trying to sound casual, though she could feel the tension in her own voice.

Yunjin glanced around before pulling Y/N aside into a quieter corner of the hallway. "You’ve been avoiding me all morning," she started, her eyes full of concern. "And… I get it. I know this decision was big, but you’ve barely said a word since yesterday. Are you okay?"

Y/N forced a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine."

But Yunjin wasn’t buying it. "No, you’re not," she pressed. "I get that you’re going through a lot right now, but running away from it isn’t the answer. You can’t just ignore everything. Especially not Sunghoon." Her eyes softened as she said his name, like she knew how difficult it would be for Y/N to hear.

"Sunghoon?" Y/N laughed, but it was hollow. "Why do you even care about him? He’s the one who’s always made everything harder for me. He doesn’t care about me, Yunjin. He just wants to win."

But Yunjin shook her head, crossing her arms. "That’s not true. You know that’s not true." Her voice was firm, and for a moment, Y/N could hear the underlying hurt in her words. "He’s been texting you nonstop, hasn’t he? He’s been worried about you. And you haven’t even responded."

Y/N’s throat tightened. She hadn’t realized it, but she had been ignoring all of Sunghoon’s messages since yesterday. She hadn’t even opened his texts. It was easier that way—easier to keep the world she had left behind at arm's length.

"I don’t need him to worry about me," Y/N muttered, feeling the sting of her own words. "I’m done with all of it. Done with skating. Done with him."

Yunjin’s eyes softened, but she didn’t push. Instead, she gave Y/N a small, knowing look. "You’re not just done with him, are you?" she asked quietly. "You’re running from something. From everything. But Y/N, you can’t just keep shutting everyone out."

Y/N bit her lip, feeling the lump form in her throat. She hadn’t realized it before, but the more Yunjin spoke, the more it hurt. Maybe it wasn’t just skating she was running from. Maybe it was Sunghoon. And maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t understood how much he had meant to her. How much he had been there all along, even in ways she hadn’t recognized.

As if on cue, Yunjin’s phone buzzed, breaking the silence. She glanced down at it and her expression shifted. "It’s Sunghoon," she said, her voice softer now. "He’s asking to meet up. He wants to talk."

Y/N’s stomach dropped. "I don’t want to talk to him," she said quickly, but it was too late. The words were already out there, and she couldn’t take them back.

But Yunjin wasn’t letting up. "Y/N, you have to talk to him. You don’t get it, do you? He’s not just your rival. He’s been your closest person for so long. You’ve both been pushing each other to the limit, but... that’s not just rivalry. It never was."

Y/N stared at her friend, the truth slowly sinking in. The realization hit her like a punch in the gut. Sunghoon had always been there, always been the person who pushed her, challenged her, made her feel something other than emptiness. But she had always seen him as the enemy, the one who took everything she wanted, the one who made her feel like she wasn’t good enough.

But now… now she saw it. He had been struggling too, just in a different way. And worse, she hadn’t even given him the chance to explain. She hadn’t even realized that he cared.

"I didn’t know," Y/N whispered, the weight of the realization pressing down on her chest. "I didn’t know he felt like that."

Yunjin gave her a sad smile, the kind that said everything without needing words. "He does, Y/N. But you’re shutting him out. And if you keep doing that… you’re going to lose him. You’re not just quitting skating. You’re walking away from everything that made you who you are."

Y/N’s heart ached, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t just because of the pressure. It was because she had made a decision that had hurt the people she cared about most, without even realizing it.

She needed to face him. She needed to understand the things she had ignored for so long. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to make things right. But for now, she just had to take the first step.

Y/N found herself standing at the corner of the school’s courtyard, her palms sweaty despite the cool breeze. She hadn’t agreed to meet Sunghoon, not really, but somehow she ended up here, the weight of his unspoken words hanging over her. Her thoughts were scattered, but there was a part of her that knew she couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

A figure appeared from the shadows—Sunghoon, walking toward her with that familiar, determined stride. He stopped a few feet away, his face unreadable but his eyes sharp, like he was waiting for her to speak. For her to say something, anything, that would break the tension between them.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Y/N could feel the space between them crackling, filled with unspoken questions, unsaid words.

Finally, Sunghoon spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "You really think you can just walk away from everything, Y/N?"

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She wanted to deny it, to tell him that she was fine, that everything was fine, but the truth was too much to hold in. She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but they were lost somewhere deep inside her.

"I… I don’t know what else to do," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. "Skating was everything, and now it’s nothing. It feels like I’m suffocating in it, Sunghoon. I don’t even remember why I started anymore. I’m just so tired of fighting for something that… that I don’t even want."

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, but there was no anger in his eyes—only concern, a deep, unspoken hurt. He stepped closer, closing the distance between them, his presence solid and unwavering.

"You think quitting will fix it?" he asked, his voice low, almost gentle. "Do you really think running away from skating will solve everything?"

Y/N’s chest tightened, and she finally let the walls around her heart crack. She blinked hard, trying to stop the tears from spilling, but they came anyway. The vulnerability she had been hiding for so long was too much to hold back.

"I don’t know," she choked out. "I just… I just wanted to feel like I was more than just a title. More than just what everyone else expected of me. I wanted to be… free. But now, I feel even worse. I thought quitting would help, but I don’t even know who I am anymore."

Sunghoon didn’t speak right away. Instead, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out, gently brushing her arm. It wasn’t the touch she expected, but it was the one she needed. For once, he wasn’t the rival who pushed her to be better—he was the person who was simply there.

He took another step closer, his voice soft but insistent. "Y/N, I know you’ve been carrying this for a long time. I know it’s not easy, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here. Always have been."

Y/N’s heart ached at his words, and before she could stop herself, she felt the flood of emotion hit her all at once. Her chest heaved as she fought to keep the tears at bay, but they spilled over anyway. "I’m scared, Sunghoon," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Scared of failing. Scared of being nothing."

His hand moved to her shoulder, steady and comforting. "You’re not nothing," he said, his voice steady, like he was trying to anchor her in a storm. "You never were. And you’re not alone in this. You don’t have to be the perfect skater, the perfect daughter, the perfect anything. You’re enough as you are."

Y/N looked up at him, eyes full of disbelief. For so long, she had seen him as the one who always had everything figured out—the one who never faltered, never showed weakness. And now, here he was, offering her something she hadn’t even known she needed: understanding, acceptance, and a kindness that was impossible to ignore.

"I didn’t realize how much I hurt you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn’t even think about how it was affecting you."

Sunghoon’s expression softened, but there was no anger in his eyes. Just… a quiet sadness. "You didn’t know," he said simply. "And I didn’t know how to tell you. But I’m not mad, Y/N. I just… I want you to be happy. I want you to feel like you’re not doing this just for everyone else. For once, do it for yourself."

Y/N felt a shudder pass through her, her heart pounding in her chest as his words sank in. For the first time in ages, she felt like maybe she wasn’t alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward—without the weight of expectations, without the pressure of being perfect.

She took a shaky breath, her hands still trembling. "I don’t know if I can go back to skating," she admitted, her voice fragile. "But I want to figure out who I am without it. I don’t want to keep pretending to be something I’m not."

Sunghoon nodded, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You don’t have to go back to skating if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. But whatever you decide, I’ll be here. I’ve always been here."

Y/N felt the weight on her shoulders lighten just a little, the pressure of the decision she had made beginning to ease. Maybe she didn’t have all the answers yet. Maybe she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. But for the first time, she wasn’t scared to figure it out. And she wasn’t alone.

As Sunghoon stood beside her, the tension between them began to dissolve. Maybe the rivalry wasn’t over, but it didn’t have to define them anymore. Not when they both finally understood what really mattered.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Y/N. Her conversation with Sunghoon had given her a lot to think about, and as she walked home, the weight in her chest had lessened, replaced by a strange sense of resolve. She hadn’t realized how much she had been holding in until now. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to figure things out.

When she walked into her room, she tossed her bag onto the bed and let out a deep breath. The house was quiet—too quiet—and the silence made her feel even more unsure about everything she had left behind. But then, as she sat down at her desk, something caught her eye.

A small flyer was pinned to the corkboard by her window, one she hadn’t noticed before. It was brightly colored, with bold, attention-grabbing text: Cheerleading Tryouts - Two Weeks Away!

Her pulse quickened as she stepped closer, reading the details. Two cheer clinics next week, tryouts on Monday. The more she read, the more the excitement bubbled up inside her. This was it. The step she needed to take.

For the first time in a long while, she felt a spark of something—something other than doubt or fear. Maybe this is what I’ve been looking for, she thought.

Y/N had always loved the energy of cheerleading. It was different than skating—it was fast, loud, and full of adrenaline. The thought of performing stunts, the idea of being part of a team again, made her heart race. And the best part? She wasn’t starting from scratch. She had the skills.

She wasn’t just someone who could do a toe touch or a right hurdler. She could do a front handspring. She’d stunted with her cousins countless times just for fun, laughing as they lifted each other in the air. The balance, the flexibility, the coordination—it was all there. She had the basics, the physical foundation. It was just a matter of diving in and trusting herself.

Y/N placed her hand on the flyer, the weight of the decision settling into her mind. She wasn’t going to let fear stop her anymore. This was the next step in her life, the next chapter. She could feel the pull of it, the way it called to her in a way that skating hadn’t for a long time.

"I’m doing this," she whispered to herself, the words firm in the quiet room. "I’m taking the step. No looking back."

She grabbed her phone and texted Yunjin: Hey, I'm going to the cheer clinic next week. You should come with me.

The excitement of the idea hit her all over again, and this time, there was no hesitation. No second-guessing. She was ready. Ready to let go of the past and embrace something new. Something that was hers, something that felt right.

It wasn’t just about trying something different—it was about reclaiming herself. She wasn’t defined by her past, by the titles and expectations. She was ready to redefine who she was.

And no matter what came next, she knew she would face it head-on, with a strength she didn’t know she had until now.

The cheer clinic was held in the gymnasium of the high school, a place Y/N had walked past countless times but never truly noticed. Now, as she stepped inside, the sound of sneakers slapping against the polished floor and the sharp, rhythmic claps of hands echoed in the space, and she felt the excitement buzzing in the air.

The clinic was packed with girls—some familiar faces from school, others she’d never seen before, all stretching and warming up in groups. The atmosphere was electric, and for the first time in ages, Y/N felt a spark of joy. This wasn’t about competition. This wasn’t about perfection. It was about fun, energy, and being part of something bigger than herself.

Yunjin walked beside her, equally excited but also nervous. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, her eyes wide. “This is... a whole different world from skating.”

Y/N smiled, her stomach fluttering with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. “Yeah, but I think it’s exactly what I need. I’m ready for something new. And I’m not starting from scratch. I’ve got some moves.”

Yunjin laughed. “I know you do. I’ve seen you do stunts with your cousins. You’ve got this.”

They joined the group at the center of the gym, where Coach Minjae, the cheerleading coach, was already giving instructions. Coach Minjae was all smiles, exuding energy and enthusiasm that made Y/N’s nerves ease just a little. "Alright, ladies!" he called, clapping his hands. "We’re here to get a feel for cheerleading. Stretch, warm up, and let’s get ready to move."

Y/N joined in with the group, stretching her muscles and feeling her body loosen up. It felt good—she was flexible, had the strength, and the muscle memory from skating was already kicking in. She could do a toe touch, a right hurdler—nothing too complicated, but it was a start.

Coach Minjae moved among the girls, offering pointers and encouragement. After a few minutes, they began practicing some basic stunts—nothing too advanced, just a simple toss and catch. Y/N’s heart raced as they paired up. She didn’t know anyone here, but it didn’t matter. She just needed to prove to herself that she could do this.

When it was her turn, Y/N partnered with a girl named Mira, a senior who was tall and strong, a perfect base for stunting. Mira looked at her with a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, we got this."

Y/N nodded, holding her breath as she stepped into position. Mira helped lift her up into a basic cradle, lifting her smoothly into the air. The feeling was exhilarating—there was no ice beneath her, no cold, just the rush of adrenaline and the sound of the gym all around her. It felt freeing.

“Great job, Y/N! You’ve got the technique down!” Coach Minjae called from the sidelines, and Y/N couldn’t help but beam. The approval felt different than it had when skating. It felt genuine. She wasn’t just being praised for her ability to win—it was about the effort, the teamwork, the energy. It was refreshing.

As the clinic progressed, they moved on to more complex stunts. Y/N’s confidence grew with each one, the group getting into sync as they learned to work together. She stunted with a few different girls, her heart racing each time she was lifted into the air or tossed up for a handspring. Her muscles were sore from the new movements, but it was the good kind of soreness—the kind that reminded her she was challenging herself, pushing her boundaries in a way she hadn’t for a long time.

After about two hours of practice, Coach Minjae gathered everyone into a circle for the final part of the clinic: the tumbling session. Y/N felt a familiar thrill run through her—this was her element. She had done front handsprings countless times as a kid, and now was her chance to show off. She stretched again and got into position, pushing herself into a fluid back handspring and landing solidly on her feet.

"That’s what I’m talking about!" Coach Minjae said, grinning as he clapped. "Nice work, Y/N! You’ve got natural talent."

Y/N’s heart swelled with pride. She hadn’t expected to feel so at home so quickly, but it was like the movements were second nature. It wasn’t the same as skating, but in some ways, it felt even better. Here, she wasn’t just pushing herself to be perfect. She was learning, growing, and enjoying the process.

When the clinic wrapped up, Y/N was sweaty and exhausted, but there was a grin on her face that didn’t fade. She looked at Yunjin, who was standing nearby, her eyes wide with awe.

“That was amazing,” Yunjin said. “You were incredible out there. You’re a natural.”

Y/N laughed, her breath still heavy. “I guess I didn’t realize how much I missed being in a team. It’s different from skating, but... it feels right.”

As they made their way to the exit, Coach Minjae called out to Y/N, motioning for her to come over. “Hey, I saw you out there today,” he said with a friendly smile. “You’ve got a lot of potential. I’m excited to see how you do at tryouts on Monday. Keep practicing what you’ve learned. And don’t forget, the clinic next week is a great opportunity to refine your skills before tryouts. We’re looking for someone with your drive.”

Y/N’s heart raced again. “Thanks, Coach. I’ll be ready.”

As she walked out of the gym with Yunjin, the energy still buzzing in her veins, she knew this was just the beginning. She hadn’t just stepped into the world of cheerleading; she had stepped into a new chapter of her life.

It wasn’t about quitting skating—it was about finding herself again, finding joy in something new, and realizing she was more than just a skater. She was a person with strength, flexibility, and passion—and she wasn’t going to let anything or anyone take that away.

Y/N walked through the door, her heart still racing from the excitement of the clinic. The buzz of adrenaline hadn't quite worn off, and for the first time in days, she felt at peace with her decision. She was doing something for herself, something she was good at and enjoyed. But that sense of peace quickly evaporated when she stepped into the living room.

Her parents were sitting together on the couch, the atmosphere tense. Her mom's arms were crossed, her eyes narrow, and her dad's jaw was clenched. It was immediately clear that something was off.

"Y/N," her mom began, her voice calm but filled with an edge, "We need to talk."

Y/N froze in the doorway, her stomach dropping. She'd been dreading this moment, but she hadn't expected it to come so soon. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "What’s going on?"

Her dad's voice broke the silence. "We got a call today. About the cheerleading clinic. You didn't think we’d find out?"

Y/N’s chest tightened, and the weight of their disapproval pressed down on her. “I—I didn’t think it mattered,” she said quietly, trying to keep her emotions in check. “I’m not skating anymore. I want to try something different.”

Her mom's eyes flashed with frustration. "Different? You’re throwing away everything we’ve worked for all these years. All the time, all the money we’ve put into your ice skating career—this is how you repay us?"

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. "I'm not throwing it away. I just—" She paused, taking a shaky breath. "I need a break. I need to do something that makes me happy. Something that’s not about competition or living up to expectations. I want to try cheerleading."

Her dad stood up, his voice rising in frustration. "You don't understand. You’re wasting your talent! You’re so close to everything we've been working for. You could be a champion, Y/N. And now you're just going to quit? After all the years we've invested? You can’t be serious."

Y/N's chest tightened even more, the pressure building as her parents' voices rang in her ears. She tried to stay calm, but the words her dad had just said stung, reminding her of the years she’d spent chasing something that had never really been hers to begin with.

"I can’t do this anymore," Y/N said, her voice shaking slightly but growing firmer with each word. "It’s not about being a champion. It’s about feeling like I’m actually living my life, not just living up to your dreams for me. I want something for myself, and that’s cheerleading. I know it might not make sense to you, but I can’t keep pretending skating is everything when it doesn’t make me happy anymore."

Her mom stood up, shaking her head in disbelief. "You don’t know what you’re doing. You’ll regret this. You’re just being emotional. You’ve always been so impulsive with your decisions."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “I’ve been thinking about this for months, and it’s not impulsive. I’m doing what’s best for me.”

The silence between them stretched out, thick with disappointment and anger. Y/N knew they wouldn’t understand. They had always pushed her to be the best, to win, to shine on the ice. But she had grown tired of being defined by other people’s expectations.

"You're being selfish, Y/N," her dad said, his voice softening, but the disappointment was still there. "All we've done for you... and now you're just walking away from it."

Y/N’s heart wavered for a moment, but she held her ground. "I’m not walking away from you. I’m just walking toward something that makes me feel alive. You can’t make me skate anymore. I’m not doing it for you or for anyone else. It’s my life, and I’m choosing to live it on my terms."

Her mom and dad exchanged a look, the silence in the room growing heavier. Finally, her mom sighed and dropped her arms. "You’ve always been stubborn. You won’t listen, will you?"

Y/N shook her head. “No. I won’t.”

Her dad let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation had drained him. "Fine. But don’t expect us to support this. You’re on your own with this decision."

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, but she didn’t flinch. "I know. I’m ready to be on my own. I’ll make it work."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and left the room, the heavy air following her every step. She needed space. She needed to breathe.

As she shut the door to her bedroom behind her, Y/N leaned against it, her chest tight and her mind racing. It hurt, it really did, to hear her parents' words. But the decision was hers, and she wasn’t going to let anyone make her doubt it.

She looked over at the cheer flyer on her desk, the bright colors calling to her again. This was where she needed to be. This was the step she had chosen, and no matter how hard it was, she was going to take it.

The next few days felt like a blur. Y/N’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—relief mixed with guilt, excitement mixed with uncertainty. Her parents’ words haunted her, despite the resolve she’d felt when she walked away from that conversation.

It was strange, living in the same house but feeling worlds apart from her parents. They barely spoke to her, their disappointment so palpable it weighed heavily in the air, even when they were in the same room. Every time she caught their gaze, they looked at her like she was a stranger.

But Y/N didn’t let it break her. She couldn’t. She couldn’t go back to the life they wanted for her, not when she had just found something that made her feel like herself again.

The cheerleading tryouts were just around the corner, and though she hadn’t fully shaken the tension at home, she threw herself into preparing for it. The clinic had given her a taste of what was to come, and she wanted more.

The following week, she attended the second cheer clinic with the same eagerness, determined to refine her skills. This time, she had a better grasp of the moves, and she pushed herself even harder. She felt her body growing stronger with every tumble, every flip, every lift. She wasn’t perfect, but she was getting there, and that was enough for her. The coaches seemed impressed with her progress, but Y/N was focused on the feeling she had every time she stepped onto that mat. It wasn’t about impressing anyone. It was about freedom.

“Y/N, you’re doing great!” Coach Minjae called out during a routine, his voice full of encouragement. “Keep that energy up. You’ve got what it takes.”

Those words from Coach Minjae gave her a renewed sense of purpose. It felt good to hear someone believe in her. It felt good to be seen for more than just her ability to perform on the ice.

As the days to tryouts dwindled down, Y/N knew her parents were still upset, but she had made her peace with it. They were stubborn, and so was she. She didn’t need their approval to do what made her happy. In fact, the more she thought about it, the clearer it became: if she stayed on the ice, she’d always be living under their expectations, under the weight of years of pressure. But if she took this leap—this leap into cheerleading—she would be doing it for herself. No one else.

The morning of the tryouts, Y/N woke up early, her heart pounding with nerves, but also with excitement. She stretched in her bedroom, mentally going through the moves she had practiced, running through the routine she’d put together in the past few days. She wasn’t sure if she’d make the team, but she knew she would give it everything she had.

Yunjin knocked on her door, her face bright with enthusiasm despite the early hour. "You ready for this?" she asked, grinning. "You’ve got this, I know it."

Y/N smiled back, taking a deep breath. "I think so. I’m ready."

As they arrived at the gym, the air was thick with anticipation. There were more girls than she expected, all of them looking as nervous and excited as she felt. Y/N tried to block out the thoughts of her parents’ disappointment and just focused on the task ahead. The pressure to succeed wasn’t coming from them anymore—it was coming from her. She wanted to prove to herself that she could do this.

The tryouts went by in a blur. She did everything she’d practiced—the toe touch, the hurdler, the front handspring, and the stunts. Her muscles burned from the effort, but she kept pushing herself, one move at a time, until she felt she had given her best.

When the tryouts ended, Coach Minjae gathered the girls together. "You all did a great job today," he said, his tone warm but firm. "We’ll be posting the results soon. But no matter what happens, I want you to know that each of you gave your best. That’s what matters."

Y/N waited with bated breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She was so nervous, so unsure of what the outcome would be, but at that moment, she felt a strange sense of calm. Even if she didn’t make the team, she knew she had taken the first step toward finding herself.

A few hours later, the list was posted on the bulletin board in the school’s hallway. Y/N walked toward it, her heart in her throat. She scanned the names, her fingers trembling as they traced each one until they landed on hers.

Her name was on the list. Not on JV, not on Frosh, but she was on VARSITY? 

She blinked, her eyes filling with tears before she could even process it. She had made the team. She had done it. It wasn’t just about cheerleading—it was about proving to herself that she could take control of her life. That she could make decisions for herself, regardless of what others thought.

Yunjin found her a few moments later, her arms wide open. "You did it!" she squealed, pulling Y/N into a hug. "I knew you would! You were amazing out there!"

Y/N hugged her back, overwhelmed by the sense of accomplishment. "I can’t believe it. I really did it."

And for the first time in so long, she allowed herself to believe in it too.

That night, when she returned home, Y/N wasn’t sure how to face her parents. They were still distant, still upset, but now that she had the victory of making the team, she felt stronger than ever.

When she walked into the living room, her dad barely looked up from his newspaper. Her mom was on her phone, but Y/N didn’t shy away. She stood there for a moment, gathering the courage she needed before speaking.

“I made the cheerleading team. I made the school’s Varsity team,” she said, her voice steady.

Her mom glanced up, her face unreadable. "I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Y/N."

Y/N stood tall, her shoulders back, and met her mom’s gaze. "Because I needed to do something for myself. I needed to find my own happiness. I know you don’t agree, but I’m not going to apologize for that."

Her dad finally set down his paper, looking at her with a mix of frustration and resignation. "I don’t get it, but I guess there’s nothing we can do to change your mind."

Y/N shook her head, but instead of feeling the weight of their disapproval, she felt a strange sense of peace. "No, you can’t. I’m going to make this work. You’ll see."

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like she was finally walking her own path.

Y/N walked through the school’s front doors with her heart still thumping from the rush of excitement after making the cheerleading team. She had expected her parents’ disappointment, but she hadn’t expected the tight knot in her chest to linger this long. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for as she walked through the hallways—maybe just a little space to breathe, away from the weight of everything that had happened.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw him.

Sunghoon.

Of course, he was here, standing by his locker, surrounded by his friends who were laughing loudly, no doubt about something ridiculous he had said. But the moment his eyes landed on her, it was like the world narrowed to just the two of them.

There was that stupid grin.

“There’s my favorite cheerleader!” Sunghoon called out, loud enough for a few people to turn their heads in curiosity. His tone was teasing, laced with something else—something almost mocking.

Y/N’s stomach twisted. The words hit her in a way they hadn’t before. She hated how his teasing had always gotten under her skin, how it made her feel both irritated and strangely... seen. She didn’t need his approval, and yet, there was a small part of her that had always been desperate for it.

"Stop it," Y/N snapped, her eyes narrowing as she tried to keep her annoyance in check. She wasn’t going to let him win today. Not when she had finally taken control of her life, done something for herself. "You don’t even know what you’re talking about."

Sunghoon pushed off the lockers and started walking toward her, a slow, deliberate stride that made her stomach tighten even more. He wasn’t trying to provoke her in the usual way; there was something more behind this. He seemed... different today.

He stopped right in front of her, his grin softening, but only slightly. “I know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now, teasing but with an undertone of something far too sincere for her liking. “You’re going to make an amazing cheerleader. I’m proud of you.”

Y/N blinked, the words hitting her harder than she expected. Proud? Sunghoon, of all people, proud of her? She couldn’t help but scoff, but the frustration that usually bubbled up between them felt different today—fainter, almost like it was being drowned out by something she couldn’t name.

“You’re seriously not going to stop, are you?” she shot back, her voice sharp, but even she could hear the crack in it.

“Why would I?” he teased, crossing his arms. “This is huge for you, Y/N. You’ve been skating for so long, always trying to beat me, and now you’re doing something for yourself. I’m impressed.”

Her jaw tightened. Sunghoon had always been the one to make everything a competition—always comparing them, always fighting for the spotlight, whether it was on the ice or in their lives. His constant need to be the best had always rubbed her the wrong way, and yet... when he said things like that, things that sounded so genuine, it felt like a reminder of everything they had once been. Rivals. Equals. The tension between them had always been thick, and yet here he was, proud of her, as if the rivalry meant nothing to him.

“Stop pretending like you care,” she spat, her voice rising despite herself. “You’ve always had your way, Sunghoon. Don’t act like you care about what I do now.”

Sunghoon’s face didn’t flicker with the usual defensive arrogance. Instead, there was a quiet understanding in his eyes, one that Y/N didn’t quite know how to process. He took a small step closer, dropping his arms. “I care more than you think, Y/N.”

She froze. It wasn’t the words themselves that caught her off guard—it was the way he said them, the softness in his voice that was so unlike the usual banter. He had always pushed her to the limit, always seemed to relish in their rivalry, but now he was saying something completely different. His words felt like they were cutting through the walls she’d built between them.

“Why does it always have to be this way with you?” Y/N muttered, frustration creeping into her voice. "You act like you’re so proud of me, but you’ve been my biggest obstacle from the start. All you’ve ever done is make me feel like I wasn’t good enough.”

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, his grin fading. “Is that what you think? That I’ve been trying to make you feel bad? You really don’t get it, do you?”

Y/N’s chest tightened as she looked up at him, struggling to keep her emotions from spilling over. She hated this. Hated how he had always been the person who pushed her the hardest, who seemed to always stand in her way. But in some twisted way, she had always needed him there, because his presence kept her grounded in a rivalry that was so familiar, it felt like home.

“You don’t get it either,” she muttered, her voice thick with something she didn’t want to admit. “You’ve always been everything I wasn’t—better on the ice, more focused, more... everything. And I’ve spent my whole life trying to beat you, to prove something to you and everyone else. But now I’m trying to do something for me, and you’re just messing with me.”

Sunghoon reached out, his hand coming to rest lightly on her arm, a rare tenderness in his touch. "I’m not messing with you, Y/N. I just... I just want you to know that you don’t have to prove anything to me anymore. I’ve always been proud of you. I was just too stupid to admit it."

Y/N blinked, feeling like the floor had just shifted beneath her feet. She didn’t know how to respond. Sunghoon had always been the one to push her buttons, to make her feel like she was in a constant battle to get his attention, but this... this was different.

“I don’t need your pity,” she finally said, her voice quieter now, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

“I’m not pitying you,” he said gently, looking down at her, his expression more serious than she’d ever seen it. "I’ve always respected you, Y/N. Maybe I’ve shown it in the wrong ways, but I do. And for what it’s worth... I’m proud of you. I know this is a big step. You don’t have to be afraid of it.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to collect herself. It was impossible to ignore how much his words were sinking in, how they made her feel exposed in a way she wasn’t ready for. She didn’t want to acknowledge how much she needed this from him, how much she secretly longed for him to say these things, even if it meant admitting that maybe the rivalry had always been more complicated than she wanted to believe.

“Whatever,” she muttered, stepping back from him, trying to reclaim her space, her walls. “I’m doing this for me. Not for you, not for anyone else.”

Sunghoon’s grin returned, though it was softer, almost like he understood the complexity of the situation better than she did. “I know. And that’s exactly why I’m proud of you.”

Y/N shook her head and turned to walk away, but she couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips, a smile that somehow only Sunghoon could coax out of her, no matter how much she hated to admit it.

It had been a whirlwind of a year, and now, standing in front of the school, Y/N couldn’t help but take it all in. Senior year had arrived, and with it, a wave of emotions—nervousness, excitement, anticipation. Not just about graduation or the impending college decisions, but the start of the cheerleading season. After months of dedication, practice, and pushing herself beyond limits, it was finally here. The rush of being part of something she loved, something she was proud of.

Cheerleading was a new chapter in her life, one that had brought her unexpected joy. She had always been good at skating, but this... this was her own thing. No pressure from her parents, no constant rivalry with Sunghoon. Just her, her team, and the excitement of starting something fresh. It felt freeing.

And then there was Sunghoon.

Their relationship had shifted in ways she hadn’t fully realized until now. They’d gone from rivals to friends to something more—a slow burn of understanding, shared glances, and late-night talks. The tension between them was still there, but it was different now. More comfortable. More affectionate. They spent weekends hanging out with their group of friends, but there were also moments where it was just the two of them. Conversations that didn’t have to be about cheer or skating, just about life. They laughed, they teased, and sometimes, they just sat in comfortable silence, a closeness that had built over time.

Y/N had always sworn she wouldn’t get involved with Sunghoon, but as the months went by, she found herself unable to ignore the undeniable pull between them. The way his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. The way he supported her, not just as a teammate but as someone who genuinely cared. There were times when he would drop her off after practice, and their hands would brush, sending a spark of electricity through her veins. The touch would always linger just a second longer than normal, making her wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same way.

Today was no different. She had just finished getting ready for practice, pulling on her uniform with a small, satisfied smile. She felt confident. Cheer had become her escape, her place of belonging, and she loved every minute of it. With her college applications in, the future was uncertain, but she was ready for whatever came next.

As she walked out of the locker room, she saw Sunghoon leaning against the bleachers, a casual smirk on his face as he checked his phone. His presence, once a source of frustration, now felt like something familiar, something she looked forward to.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, glancing up at her with that trademark grin of his. But there was something different in his eyes—something warmer.

Y/N shot him a playful look. “Do you even have to ask? I’ve been ready since last year.”

“True,” he said, pushing off the bleachers and walking toward her. “I’m still amazed you chose cheer over skating. You’ve got the spirit, but... can you keep up with us?”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got this. I’m flexible, I can stunt, I can do flips—you name it.”

His smile softened, and for a second, Y/N saw the familiar teasing glint in his eyes, but it was paired with something else—pride, maybe? “I’m still amazed,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time. “You’ve come a long way, Y/N.”

There was something in the way he said her name. It wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t sarcastic. It was just... her. And it made her heart do a funny little flip.

“You sound like you actually care,” she teased back, nudging him playfully.

“I do,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I’ve always cared.”

Y/N met his gaze, trying to keep her composure, but it was getting harder to ignore the way he made her feel. She wasn’t sure when things had changed between them, but now, with the closeness they shared, it was hard to separate her feelings from what they had. They were more than just teammates, more than just the awkward tension of rivals. They had become something else, something new. And maybe it wasn’t love yet, but it was something that felt just as powerful.

“You’ve been acting all proud of me lately,” Y/N teased, a slight blush creeping up her neck. “What’s up with that?”

Sunghoon’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his playful smirk returning, though there was something more vulnerable behind it. “I guess I’m just proud of how far you’ve come. You’ve worked your ass off, Y/N. And not just for this, but for everything.”

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest. “I didn’t expect you to say that.”

Sunghoon shrugged, his grin widening as he tried to hide the faint color in his cheeks. “I don’t always say the right things, but... yeah. I’m proud. And I’m glad you’re here with us.”

Her heart fluttered, and for a second, the noise around them—the rest of the team gathering, the chatter, the clapping—faded. It was just the two of them, standing on the edge of something new. The rivalry was still there, but now it felt like it was slowly being replaced with something else. Something better.

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, trying to break the tension, “I’m not here to be your favorite cheerleader, Sunghoon. I’m here to kick ass.”

Sunghoon chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and something more. “I’m not worried. You always kick ass.”

And there it was again—the way he looked at her, like there was something unspoken between them. Something that had been building ever since she made the decision to walk away from skating and take this leap into cheer. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to their relationship than she had ever allowed herself to believe.

“Alright, enough talking. Let’s go show them what we’ve got,” Y/N said, smiling brightly, trying to mask the fluttering in her chest.

Sunghoon gave her one last look, a soft smile curving on his lips, before nodding. “You’ve got this, Y/N.”

As they walked to the sidelines together, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that this year was going to be different. Not just because of cheerleading, but because of everything she had started to realize about herself—and about him.

The game was over, and the victory still hung in the air. The stands were filled with excitement, the sound of cheers and clapping echoing around the field. Y/N stood off to the side, quietly packing her cheer bag. She had given it her all tonight, and it felt amazing to be so connected with her team, the crowd, and the energy of the game. It was the first time in a long while she felt truly like herself—not weighed down by the pressures of ice skating, not caught in the web of family expectations. Tonight, cheerleading had been her release, her passion.

As she zipped up her bag, her thoughts drifted to Sunghoon. He’d been different lately. He’d been there for her in ways that went beyond their usual playful rivalry. She couldn’t help but feel a spark between them—a connection that she hadn’t been able to ignore, even if she’d tried. Maybe it was just her imagination, or maybe it was the thrill of the game, but she’d been hoping tonight would be different. After the game, they always hung out—grab food, catch up, talk about everything. Maybe tonight he’d say something. Something more than just the usual teasing.

Her heart fluttered at the thought.

She didn’t know why she was so desperate for something to change between them. Sunghoon had always been her rival, the person who had gotten under her skin since childhood. But now, as they had spent more time together, it was becoming clear to her that there was something more—something she wasn’t ready to admit but couldn’t quite deny.

She had always brushed it off as nothing. She had convinced herself that their connection was nothing but friendly competition. But tonight, after seeing him look at her differently, she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same.

With her gear packed away, she glanced around, looking for Sunghoon. She smiled to herself, knowing he’d be around here somewhere. Maybe he’d find her first, maybe not. But she couldn’t shake the thought that something was different tonight, something that might finally bring them closer together.

As she walked toward the edge of the field, searching for him, a movement caught her eye. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Sunghoon standing near the edge of the bleachers, but it wasn’t just Sunghoon. There was a girl with him. At first, Y/N didn’t recognize her, but something about the way they were standing together made her stomach drop.

Sunghoon had his arms wrapped around her, and they were standing so close. The girl had her arms around his neck, and their lips were locked in a kiss. A passionate, deep kiss.

Y/N’s heart stopped in her chest. She could feel the blood drain from her face, her entire body freezing in place as her mind scrambled to make sense of what she was seeing. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her hands trembled as she stood there, the world around her seeming to tilt and shift. The moment stretched on forever, each second torturing her more than the last.

As the girl pulled back from the kiss, Y/N saw her face clearly for the first time. Her heart dropped even further.

It was Chaewon.

Sunghoon’s ex-girlfriend.

Y/N had heard about Chaewon before—about how they had broken up a few months ago. Chaewon had always been a part of Sunghoon’s life, and despite their breakup, she had kept a lingering presence in his world. Y/N had always felt the tension whenever Chaewon was mentioned, but she never expected it to hit this close to home. She had always thought that once Sunghoon had moved on, things would be different. But now, seeing them together like this, it was clear that whatever was left between them wasn’t over.

Her throat tightened, her vision blurring with tears she tried to blink away. She wasn’t sure why it hurt so much—why seeing them together hit her like a wrecking ball. It wasn’t like she had any claim over Sunghoon, and yet, watching them made her feel like everything she had been working toward was meaningless. All her attempts to build a connection with him, to push past their rivalry and make something more, felt like they had been a waste.

The way they kissed—how natural, how familiar it looked—told Y/N everything she needed to know. There was no space between them. They were so comfortable with each other. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a moment of intimacy, something they had shared before and likely would again.

Y/N couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t make sense of the whirlwind of emotions crashing through her. Betrayal. Hurt. Regret. And something else... Something far more painful. She had been naive to think that things could be different. She had been foolish to believe that Sunghoon would see her as more than just a rival.

Without thinking, her feet moved on their own, carrying her away from the scene. Her body was moving mechanically, too stunned to process the pain in her chest. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She just had to get out of here.

She couldn’t stay and watch it any longer.

She needed to leave before the tears started falling, before the ache in her heart consumed her completely. As she rushed to the parking lot, she didn’t look back. She didn’t want to see them again. She didn’t want to confront the truth—that Sunghoon had never been hers to claim, and maybe, he never would be.

By the time she reached her car, her tears were already spilling over. She slammed the car door shut with more force than she intended, the sound of it echoing in the quiet parking lot. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything.

As she drove home, the streets blurred in front of her, the steady rhythm of her car tires on the pavement the only thing grounding her in reality. Her thoughts were a mess, a jumble of hurt, confusion, and disbelief.

When she reached her house, she didn’t even bother to turn off the engine. She just sat there for a moment, staring ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel. The tears flowed freely now, the pain too raw to hide.

She had been so stupid. So stupid for hoping. For thinking she could ever be something more to him than just a rival.

With a broken heart and no more strength to pretend, Y/N stumbled out of the car, heading straight to her room. She locked the door behind her, flopping onto her bed. The tears kept coming, but she didn’t try to stop them. Tonight had been a wake-up call, and as much as it hurt, she knew it was time to let go.

The days following the game felt like an endless blur. The victory was overshadowed by the weight of what Y/N had witnessed. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Sunghoon with Chaewon, their lips locked in a kiss so full of passion it tore through her. She tried to distract herself, to immerse herself in her cheerleading practices, but it was impossible to shake the image from her mind.

At school, she avoided Sunghoon. She wasn’t ready to face him—not after what had happened. She didn’t even want to acknowledge him in the halls. The thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. It wasn’t just the betrayal, but the fact that she had been so blind to it all. She had let herself believe that the rivalry, the teasing, even the moments where their gazes lingered just a bit longer than necessary, meant something more than what they were.

Her thoughts were consumed by what she had seen. She was devastated, angry at herself for letting her guard down, angry at him for leading her on. And then, there was the bitterness that had begun to seep into her heart. How could he just move on so easily? How could he kiss Chaewon, the girl he had supposedly broken up with months ago, and make it look so natural?

It felt like betrayal on every level. He hadn’t even said anything to her about it. No explanation. No warning. She had spent so much time focused on their growing closeness, convinced that something real was blooming between them, and it had all been for nothing.

Monday came, and with it, another school day. Y/N walked into the hallways with her head down, trying her best to ignore the whispers. She had heard people talk. Her teammates, classmates, even teachers. Everyone was buzzing about the cheer game, her flawless performance. But for her, it felt like the cheers and claps were just empty sounds. No matter how many times people told her she had been amazing, the words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The hallway felt suffocating as Y/N stormed off after her heated exchange with Sunghoon. Her footsteps echoed against the lockers as she kept walking, refusing to look back. She could still feel the sting of what she’d seen—the kiss between Sunghoon and Chaewon—burning in her chest. It felt like the world was closing in on her, and she was desperate to escape the suffocating reality of it all.

But just as she thought she could distance herself, she heard his voice again.

"Y/N, wait!"

She froze mid-step, her heart racing as she turned slowly. He was standing a few feet away, his expression desperate, his eyes wide with a mixture of concern and frustration. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced with something more vulnerable—something that made Y/N’s heart ache even more than it already did.

"I—" Sunghoon started, running a hand through his hair, his voice faltering. "I know you’re upset, but please, just let me explain. I never wanted you to see that. I never wanted you to think—"

"To think what, Sunghoon?" Y/N interrupted, her voice shaking with both anger and hurt. "That you were still in love with Chaewon? That you were going to just pick up where you left off with her? Is that it? Is that what I saw?"

He winced at her words, the pain in her voice hitting him harder than he expected. But he didn’t give up. He took a step forward, his gaze filled with sincerity, almost pleading.

"No, that’s not it at all," he said quickly. "It’s just... Y/N, please listen. What you saw was a mistake. A huge mistake. It wasn’t—"

"A mistake?" she repeated bitterly, her eyes flashing with disbelief. "You think that kiss was a mistake?"

He winced, the words clearly hurting him as much as they hurt her. He had never imagined that something like this would drive a wedge between them. "Yes," he said quietly, the weight of the word settling between them. "It was a mistake. A moment of weakness, a moment where I didn’t know what I was doing. But it doesn’t mean what you think it means. Chaewon and I... we had our history, but it was over. And I—"

"You kissed her," Y/N spat, her voice trembling. "How is that 'over'? How can you tell me that now, after everything, after all the time we’ve spent together, that it doesn’t mean anything?"

Sunghoon took another step toward her, his frustration building, but he kept his voice soft, trying to remain calm. He wasn’t ready to lose her—not after everything. Not when he was just beginning to realize how deeply he had felt for her all along.

"Y/N, listen to me," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know how to explain this, but you’ve got to know that I wasn’t thinking when I kissed her. It wasn’t because I want her back or because I still care about her in that way. It was... I don’t know, maybe it was just familiarity. But I don’t want her. I want you."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering against her chest. She stared at him, disbelieving, as the words she had always wanted to hear from him finally fell from his lips. But there was still a part of her that couldn’t trust it. She wasn’t sure she could ever fully trust him again after what she’d seen.

"Why now?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why are you saying this now, after everything? After the way you've treated me, after all those months of us pretending we were just rivals? Why does it matter now?"

Sunghoon's face softened, and he closed the distance between them, his eyes pleading with her to understand. "Because I was an idiot," he said, his voice rough. "I didn’t realize how much you meant to me until it was almost too late. I’ve been pushing you away, and I didn’t even know why. But I’ve been stupid, Y/N. You were always more than just a rival to me, more than just someone I wanted to beat. But I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought I had to stay in that stupid competition with you, that I had to keep up this stupid rivalry, and it kept me from seeing what was right in front of me."

Y/N’s heart twisted at his words. Part of her wanted to believe him—wanted to believe that all the moments they’d shared had meant something more. But the part of her that had been burned by his actions was reluctant to let go of the hurt.

"You’re telling me this now?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You’re telling me that after everything, after all the times you made me feel like I was nothing more than a challenge for you, that you actually care? That you’ve always cared?"

Sunghoon’s face fell, guilt and regret clouding his features. "I know I screwed up. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry. But it’s the truth. I care about you, Y/N. I always have. I just... I was too proud, too scared, to admit it. I was so caught up in the competition with you, in trying to win everything, that I didn’t realize that winning you, winning your heart, was the one thing I actually wanted."

Y/N felt her heart ache at his words. She wanted to say something, anything to make the pain stop, but her emotions were all over the place. She had wanted this. She had wanted him to confess, to tell her that she wasn’t just the girl he fought against, but someone he actually cared for. But hearing it now—after everything, after the kiss with Chaewon—it didn’t feel like enough.

"You can’t just erase what you did," she said quietly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You can’t just tell me it was a mistake and expect me to forget the way it made me feel."

"I know," Sunghoon said softly, his voice full of regret. "And I wouldn’t ask you to. But I’m asking you to let me make it right. Please. You mean so much more to me than anything else. I’ve been an idiot, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that you’re the one I want. Please, Y/N, don’t shut me out. Let me show you how much you really mean to me."

Y/N stood there, her chest tight with conflicting emotions. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to forgive him, to take a leap of faith and trust that he wasn’t lying. But a part of her still held onto the hurt, the pain of seeing him with someone else, so easily slipping back into his past. It wasn’t something she could just erase.

"I need time, Sunghoon," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I need time to figure this out. I don’t know if I can just forget everything, even if I want to."

He nodded, his eyes filled with pain and understanding. "I’ll wait, Y/N. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But please know that I’m not giving up on you. I care about you more than you know."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart a mix of emotions she couldn’t fully process. The words were there, but the pain lingered, and she didn’t know if she could ever truly forgive him. But she also knew that something between them had shifted—that maybe, just maybe, Sunghoon was ready to be the person she needed him to be.

But for now, all she could do was walk away and try to figure out what she really wanted from this complicated mess they’d created.

It had been a week since the confrontation. A week since Y/N had given Sunghoon the space he had begged for. The days had passed in a haze, with her emotions swirling between confusion, bitterness, and—if she was being honest with herself—hope. She had spent the first few days in silence, avoiding Sunghoon, keeping herself busy with cheerleading practice and her schoolwork.

But deep down, she couldn’t ignore the pull. Sunghoon had always been a part of her life, a constant. Even during their rivalry, there had been a connection—something more than just competition. And now that the veil had been pulled back, she saw it all more clearly. But she wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive him, not completely.

It was another practice session at school, the sun beginning to set outside as Y/N and her cheer squad went through their routines. The atmosphere was full of energy as they prepared for the next game, but for Y/N, her focus was elsewhere. Every flip, every jump, felt like she was doing it to distract herself from the thoughts of Sunghoon.

She landed a perfect high kick, but the applause of her teammates felt distant. Her mind wandered back to him—his words, his confession. "I care about you more than you know." He’d said that, and yet she hadn’t heard from him since their last talk. There had been no texts, no attempts to check in. It was as though he was giving her the space she needed… but was it enough?

Just as the session was winding down, Y/N gathered her things and headed toward the locker room. She was just about to step inside when she heard someone call her name.

"Y/N."

Her breath caught, and she froze. She turned slowly, heart thudding in her chest.

There, standing by the gym doors, was Sunghoon. His usual cocky grin was replaced by a serious, almost vulnerable expression. The sight of him pulled something deep inside her—anger, hope, frustration—all at once.

"I… I’ve been waiting for you to talk to me," he said quietly, his hands in his pockets. "I know you need time, but I can’t just pretend like everything’s fine. I’ve been thinking about what I said—about what happened—and I know I messed up. I know I hurt you."

Y/N took a deep breath. She had been avoiding him, afraid of what seeing him would bring up. But now, faced with him again, it was harder than she’d imagined.

"I don’t know if you can fix this," Y/N said, her voice steady but tinged with pain. "I don’t know if I can just forgive you, Sunghoon. It’s not that simple. You hurt me. And you made me believe that what we had… that it was real. Only to see you with Chaewon. It felt like everything we had was a lie."

Sunghoon’s face tightened with guilt. "I never meant for you to feel that way. You’re not a lie. None of this was a lie. I’ve been a fool for a long time, letting this rivalry between us get in the way of what really matters. I didn’t want to admit it, but what we have—it’s different. And I’ve been trying so hard to make sense of everything, and I think I’ve finally realized that I’m not just fighting with you. I’m fighting for you. I always have been."

Y/N swallowed, her heart aching with the raw honesty in his voice. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to believe it, but she couldn’t ignore the sincerity in his eyes. The same eyes that had watched her with a mix of admiration and rivalry for so long.

"You’re not just a competition to me anymore, Y/N," Sunghoon continued, his voice softer now. "I’m not asking you to forgive me right away. But I need you to know that I’ve been thinking about you, about what I want, and I want to be with you. Not as rivals. Not as something fleeting. I want this to be real."

It took time. More time than either of them expected, but slowly, Sunghoon and Y/N started to rebuild what they had. It wasn’t easy. There were moments when Y/N would catch herself pulling away, moments when she would doubt if she could truly trust him again. But Sunghoon was patient. He didn’t push her for more than she was ready to give, and he showed up for her—at every game, at every practice, supporting her like he always should have. He was there, proving his commitment through his actions, not just his words.

One afternoon, after a long cheer practice, Y/N sat down on the bleachers, exhausted but satisfied with the day’s progress. She was still thinking about the conversation they’d had earlier in the week, when Sunghoon had told her he was trying to be better, trying to show her that he wasn’t the guy who had kissed Chaewon.

"Hey."

She looked up to see him walking toward her, his smile warm but his expression serious.

"Hey," she replied softly, her heart fluttering just a little.

"I know this is a lot to ask, but…" He hesitated, his usual confidence wavering for a moment. "Do you want to hang out? I’ve been meaning to take you somewhere—something special. I want to make it up to you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Something special, huh?"

Sunghoon smiled, a little sheepish but genuine. "Yeah. We don’t have to talk about everything, and we don’t have to rush into anything, but… I just want you to know how much you mean to me."

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and a part of her—the part that had always cared about him—softened. Maybe this could work. Maybe they didn’t have to rush into a perfect relationship, but they could take the time to rebuild something real. Maybe she was ready to let go of the past and trust him again.

"Alright," she said, standing up slowly. "Show me what you’ve got, Sunghoon."

He grinned, relieved, and extended his hand to her. She took it, feeling a strange sense of peace settle in her chest. This wasn’t going to be easy. But maybe they could make it work, one step at a time.

As they walked together, Y/N realized something. There was no perfect ending. There was no clear answer to what they would be in the future. But there was the chance for a new beginning. A chance to rewrite the story, to make their own path, without the rivalry, without the games.

Just the two of them.

And that was all she needed for now.

The following weekend, Sunghoon picked Y/N up in his car, the nervous energy between them palpable. She had agreed to go with him, though there was still a cautiousness in her heart—an echo of the pain she felt from everything that had happened between them. But as soon as she slid into the passenger seat, the familiar scent of his cologne and the soft hum of the car made something stir within her. It was like the past few weeks hadn’t happened, like they were just two friends hanging out again.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued as she buckled her seatbelt.

"It’s a surprise," Sunghoon said, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he glanced at her, then quickly returned his attention to the road. "But trust me, you’ll like it."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. "You’re full of surprises lately."

He laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time in a while, Y/N felt something akin to ease in his presence. It was nice to be in a space where there was no tension, no expectations. Just them, figuring it out as they went.

They drove for a while, the city passing by in a blur. Eventually, Sunghoon pulled into a parking lot near the edge of town, next to a small, cozy café with string lights twinkling outside. The atmosphere was quiet and relaxed, completely different from the usual hustle and bustle of their lives. It was almost like he’d chosen this place for its peaceful energy—a place where they could both just breathe.

Sunghoon turned off the engine and glanced over at Y/N, his expression more vulnerable than she was used to seeing.

"Here we are," he said softly, smiling nervously. "I thought we could have some time to just… talk, away from everything."

Y/N didn’t say anything right away. She just looked at him, studying the sincerity in his eyes. There was something so different about him now—a rawness, an openness that made her want to give him this chance, despite everything that had happened.

"Okay," she finally said, giving him a small smile. "I’m in."

The café was a small, intimate place, with walls lined with bookshelves and an earthy, rustic feel. The faint smell of fresh coffee and pastries filled the air, and the soft music playing in the background created a warm, inviting atmosphere. They sat by a window, the light of the late afternoon spilling across the wooden table, casting soft shadows around them.

As they ordered their drinks—Y/N opting for a chai latte and Sunghoon going for his usual black coffee—they sat in silence for a moment, both unsure of where to start. Y/N fiddled with the edge of her cup, her fingers nervously tracing the rim. She wasn’t sure what to say, what to feel. This was the first time they’d been alone together like this since everything had happened.

"I guess we should start by... apologizing," Sunghoon said, breaking the silence. He sounded hesitant, unsure of what would make things right. "I really messed up, Y/N. I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but I’m sorry. I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have."

Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes focused on her drink as she took a sip. The warmth of the chai settled in her chest, but it didn’t ease the ache she still carried. "You did," she said softly, her voice steady but still tinged with the lingering hurt. "But… I know it wasn’t easy for you either. I get that you were confused. I just… I don’t know if I can just forgive and forget that quickly."

Sunghoon leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense but gentle. "I don’t expect you to. I just need you to know that I’m trying, Y/N. I really want to make this right. I’m not asking you to rush into anything. I just want a chance to show you that I’m not the same guy I was before."

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, reading the honesty in his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. It wasn’t the confession she had imagined in her head—there were no grand gestures or promises. But it felt real. And for the first time in a long while, she thought maybe—just maybe—they could rebuild something.

After a long pause, Y/N exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. "I think… I think I can start trusting you again. But it’s going to take time. I need you to show me that you really mean it."

Sunghoon’s face lit up with a quiet, relieved smile. "I can do that. I’ll show you. I’ll prove it to you, Y/N."

After finishing their drinks, they decided to take a walk through the nearby park. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue across the trees and paths. The air was crisp, and the autumn leaves crunched beneath their feet as they walked side by side, not talking much, but simply enjoying each other's presence.

It felt easy, in a way. Natural, almost. Like they were falling back into a rhythm they’d once had, before everything had gotten complicated.

"You know," Sunghoon said after a while, breaking the silence, "I’ve missed this. Just hanging out, without all the stress."

Y/N glanced at him, surprised. "Missed what?"

"This," he said, gesturing between them with a small smile. "Just talking. Having fun. It didn’t always have to be about competition, did it?"

Y/N smiled slightly, a soft laugh escaping her. "No, I guess not."

They stopped walking by a bench, where Sunghoon motioned for them to sit. They sat down, a comfortable silence falling between them once again.

"Y/N, I’ve been thinking a lot about everything we’ve been through," Sunghoon continued, his voice more serious now. "And I just… I want you to know that I’m done with pretending. I’m done with the games. I don’t care about the titles, the trophies, or the rivalry anymore. All I care about is you."

Y/N felt a flutter in her chest at his words. She couldn’t deny it any longer—the pull toward him, the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world that mattered. It was confusing, but in this quiet moment, with the sun setting around them, it felt right. She wanted to let go of the past, wanted to take a leap of faith.

"Maybe we can take it slow," Y/N said, her voice soft but sure. "No rushing, no expectations. Just… us."

Sunghoon smiled, a real smile this time, full of warmth and hope. "Slow sounds perfect."

They sat there, side by side, in the fading light, not needing words to fill the space. Everything felt different now—more real, more honest. The future wasn’t perfect, but for the first time, Y/N felt like they were headed in the right direction. Together.

As the weeks passed, Y/N and Sunghoon found themselves slipping into a new rhythm. The tension that had once lingered between them seemed to dissipate, replaced by something more comfortable, more genuine. Their interactions, once laced with rivalry and unspoken feelings, were now filled with easy laughter, quiet moments, and a growing sense of partnership. They had started to spend more time together outside of school and practice, and every little interaction—whether it was a shared lunch or a quiet walk through the park—seemed to stitch the torn fabric of their relationship back together.

Y/N found herself thinking about him more often. She thought about his grin, the way he made her feel like she was capable of anything, even when her doubts crept in. She thought about how he had apologized, how he had tried to show her that he was truly sorry. Slowly, but surely, her walls started to come down. She was letting him back in. She wanted to.

As cheer season continued, Y/N’s confidence began to grow. Her skills on the mat were improving, and with every cheer routine she perfected, her pride in herself swelled. Sunghoon, always the ever-supportive figure, attended every game, sitting in the stands with his friends, cheering louder for her than anyone else. His presence in the crowd always gave her a sense of calm, like she wasn’t performing for the crowd but for him, the person who saw her as more than just a rival, more than just a cheerleader.

One evening, after a particularly intense practice, Y/N was on her way to the locker room when she spotted Sunghoon waiting by the gym doors. His face broke into a grin when he saw her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

"Another perfect routine," he said with admiration, falling into step beside her as they walked down the hallway together. "You’re amazing, Y/N."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shook her head. "I still have so much to work on, but… thank you. You’ve been such a huge support. I don’t know if I could’ve made it this far without you."

Sunghoon smiled, nudging her shoulder playfully. "Well, you know I’m always here to push you to be your best." Then, he turned serious for a moment, his expression softening. "And I’m really proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you, Y/N."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart flutter, and she found herself gazing at him a little longer than usual. It wasn’t just admiration anymore. There was something deeper in his words, something that made her chest tighten with affection.

"Thanks, Sunghoon," she whispered, before looking away to hide the flush creeping up her neck. "I’m proud of you too."

One of the more unexpected parts of their developing relationship was how easy it was to just be with Sunghoon. They didn’t always need to do something exciting or extravagant. Sometimes, just being in each other’s presence was enough.

One night, after a long week of school and practice, Sunghoon invited Y/N over to his place. He promised it would be low-key, just a quiet night in—no expectations, no pressure. Y/N had agreed, and when she arrived at his house, she found him in his living room, lounging on the couch, holding two mugs of hot chocolate.

"I hope you’re not expecting a fancy dinner," he said, offering her one of the mugs with a teasing smile. "I’m not that good at cooking."

Y/N laughed as she took the mug, feeling the warmth seep into her fingers. "This is perfect," she said, sinking into the couch beside him. "It’s been a crazy week."

They spent the next few hours talking, sharing stories, and watching a random movie on TV. There was something effortlessly comfortable about the way they interacted now—no forced conversation, no awkward silences. They just existed together in a way that felt natural, like this was always meant to be.

At one point, they both found themselves leaning against each other, the weight of the day melting away. Sunghoon’s arm casually draped over the back of the couch, his hand just inches from hers. The proximity made her heart flutter, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let herself enjoy the moment, letting the warmth between them settle.

When the movie ended, Sunghoon turned to her, his eyes soft but searching. "I know we’re not rushing into anything, but I just… I really want you to know that I care about you. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone."

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. She hadn’t expected him to say something so open, so vulnerable. Her heart raced, but this time it wasn’t from uncertainty. It was from something much more comforting—certainty.

"I care about you too, Sunghoon," she said, her voice steady but full of feeling. "More than I thought I would. And I’m… I’m glad we’re doing this. I think we’re finally getting it right."

Sunghoon smiled softly, his hand finally reaching for hers. Their fingers brushed, then intertwined, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt a sense of peace. This wasn’t perfect, and they still had a lot to work through, but they were doing it together. And that made all the difference.

It was a few weeks later, during a late-night practice for an upcoming cheer event. The team was exhausted, but their spirits were high. The season had been going well, and everyone was looking forward to the next big game. After practice, Y/N and Sunghoon found themselves alone in the gym, tying up loose ends and catching up.

"You’re really good at this," Sunghoon said, leaning against the wall as he watched her pack her bag. "I mean, I knew you were talented, but seeing you in action, it’s… it’s impressive."

Y/N smiled, zipping up her bag. "Thanks, Sunghoon. I’ve been practicing a lot."

There was a pause as she turned to him, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before she looked away, her cheeks flushing. The chemistry between them had been undeniable for weeks now, but neither of them had made the first move. They had danced around it, unsure of how to bridge the gap between friends and something more.

Sunghoon, sensing the tension, stepped closer to her, his heart racing. "Y/N," he said, his voice low, "I’ve been wanting to do this for a while."

She looked up at him, their faces inches apart now. The world outside the gym seemed to fade away as he leaned in slowly, his breath mingling with hers. "What if we just… don’t wait anymore?"

Before she could respond, Sunghoon kissed her—a gentle, tentative kiss at first, but one that deepened quickly as they both leaned into it. It was everything she had hoped for, and more. A slow-burning kiss that spoke of all the feelings they’d kept hidden for so long.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads pressed together, and Sunghoon’s voice was soft as he whispered, "I’m so glad we’re doing this."

Y/N smiled, a sense of contentment filling her chest. "Me too."

And for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. With him.

The air was crisp, and the stadium lights illuminated the field as the last football game of the season kicked off. It was Senior Night, and Y/N could hardly believe how quickly the time had passed. Her heart swelled with pride as she stood on the sidelines in her cheer uniform, the crowd roaring with excitement behind her. This was it—the culmination of everything she had worked for in the cheerleading world. Her last game as a cheerleader. Her final performance under the bright lights.

She had spent years perfecting every routine, every move, and now, as she stood on the field, surrounded by her teammates, she could finally take it all in. The cheers, the adrenaline, the feeling of unity—it was everything she had dreamed of when she first joined the squad.

Y/N glanced over at the football team, watching the players huddling together as they prepared for the next play. Her eyes searched for Sunghoon, who was among them, focused and ready to take the field. Their eyes met for a brief moment across the distance, and he gave her a subtle but loving wink. A smile immediately tugged at her lips.

He’s always been there for me, she thought, her heart swelling with affection. After everything they’d been through, this moment felt perfect. He had become so much more than just the guy she once competed against. He was her teammate in a different way now, someone who stood by her side in the quiet moments and the loud ones.

As the game continued, Y/N’s cheer squad took their places, moving into position for the halftime performance. Her body was on autopilot now, moving through the routine with the precision she’d honed over the years. But even in the midst of the complicated stunts and routines, her mind couldn’t help but wander back to Sunghoon. Every time she locked eyes with him from across the field, there was a flicker of something between them—a spark of connection that made her heart race in the best way.

The cheerleaders executed their routines flawlessly, the crowd roaring with excitement. Y/N’s smile was bright, her energy contagious, as she nailed each move. There was no mistaking it—this was her night. She was living her dream, and she was doing it with a sense of ease she had never known before. And it felt like Sunghoon was right there beside her, not just physically, but emotionally, too. He had always been her competitor, but now, he was her support system, her person.

During the brief breaks in between routines, when the cheerleaders rushed to hydrate or fix their hair, Y/N couldn’t resist sneaking glances at Sunghoon. He was always nearby, his attention never straying far from her. And each time their eyes met, it was like a silent agreement passed between them. No words, just understanding.

In the chaos of the halftime festivities, when everyone was distracted by the excitement of the game, Sunghoon took his chance. He caught up with Y/N near the locker rooms, his face lighting up as he saw her standing alone, her breath quick from the performance.

"Hey angel," he said softly, his hand brushing against hers as he stepped closer. "You were amazing out there."

"Thanks," Y/N replied, her heart fluttering at his proximity. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body, the comfort of his presence in the midst of the chaotic night.

Before she could say anything else, Sunghoon leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a quick, sweet kiss. It was brief, but full of meaning—an unspoken acknowledgment of how far they’d come, how much they had shared. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she pulled away slightly, her lips curling into a grin.

"You’re distracting me," she teased, her voice soft but playful.

Sunghoon chuckled, his gaze never leaving hers. "I’ll be more distracting later. I promise." He winked, then gave her hand a gentle squeeze before stepping back to give her space.

It was moments like this that made Y/N feel like everything was finally falling into place. The chaos of the game, the lights, the pressure—it all melted away when she was with him.

As the game neared its end, Y/N could feel the excitement building. It was a tight game, but her team was winning. The energy in the stadium was electric, and Y/N’s heart raced with each cheer she led, each chant she screamed. The crowd’s energy was contagious, but nothing compared to the feeling of having Sunghoon watching from the sidelines, cheering her on like he always had.

And then, as the final seconds ticked down and the whistle blew to signify the victory, the cheerleaders took their last position of the night. Y/N’s eyes immediately found Sunghoon’s, his smile wide and proud as he stood with his teammates, their arms around each other in celebration.

The cheerleaders had finished their routine, and they were all celebrating, laughing and hugging. But before Y/N could join her teammates, Sunghoon was already by her side, pulling her into a tight hug.

"You did it," he whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m so proud of you, Y/N."

Y/N closed her eyes, her heart swelling with a mix of happiness and relief. "We did it," she said softly, pulling back slightly to look at him. "I couldn’t have done it without you."

Sunghoon smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We make a pretty good team, huh?"

Y/N laughed, her fingers grazing his cheek as she nodded. "The best team."

As the crowd cheered and her teammates surrounded her, Y/N felt like she was standing at the pinnacle of something important. The night was perfect, the game was won, and for the first time, she wasn’t just proud of her accomplishments. She was proud of how far she had come, and of the person she was becoming—with Sunghoon by her side.

And in that moment, she realized: it wasn’t just the victory that made this night unforgettable. It was the journey that had led her here—the friendships, the growth, and the love she had finally allowed herself to feel. 

As she started packing her things on the sideline, a warm, content smile spread across her face. Her team was still buzzing with excitement, and she felt a deep sense of belonging. She was where she was supposed to be.

But then, she noticed something odd.

She looked around to find that the crowd—well, the few people still lingering—had their phones out, pointed at her. She raised an eyebrow, confused knitting her brows. What was going on?

Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes swept across the field, trying to make sense of the situation. And that’s when she saw it.

There, in the middle of the field, stood Sunghoon. He wasn’t just standing there, though—he was holding a large, hand-painted sign that made Y/N’s breath catch in her throat. The sign read:

“I’d love to skate into your heart. Will you be my girlfriend?”

She gasped, her hand faltering as she held her bag. The words were like a punch to the gut—one full of excitement, surprise, and something that felt too big to fully comprehend in that moment. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, the realization slowly sinking in. The sign, the words, the fact that Sunghoon—her rival, her friend, the person who had always pushed her buttons in all the wrong ways—was standing there, asking her to be his girlfriend.

Her mouth went dry, her eyes darting to the faces around her, all waiting for her reaction. The noise of the crowd around her seemed to fade away, and all she could focus on was Sunghoon, standing there, his usual teasing grin replaced with something a little more serious, a little more vulnerable.

She had known him for years, and she had seen him be cocky, confident, and sometimes even a little arrogant, but this... this was different. There was no smirk, no playful edge to his eyes. This was Sunghoon, laying his heart on the line, exposing himself in a way she hadn’t expected.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Y/N blinked and then, before she even realized it, she was moving. Her legs felt like they were moving on their own, carrying her toward him without any real thought. As she got closer, she could see the faint pink tint on Sunghoon’s cheeks, and it made her smile—a smile that she couldn’t control. The walls she’d built between them, the rivalry, the hurt, it all seemed to disappear with each step.

He was waiting for her, and when their eyes met, his smile widened just a fraction, though he still seemed to be holding his breath, unsure of her response.

The moment stretched on, the world slowing down around them. Y/N didn’t know what to say at first. She wanted to laugh, to shout, to tell him this was all insane... but all that came out was a breathless, “Sunghoon… what the hell?”

His smile faltered for a moment, and he quickly tried to recover. “I know it’s a little... dramatic, but I figured it was time to stop pretending,” he said, his voice teasing, but there was a nervousness in it too. He shifted his weight, as though unsure of what to do with his hands, before letting the sign dangle a little lower. “I’ve been holding this in for too long. Just... I don’t know. I had to ask.”

Y/N’s heart raced. She couldn’t deny how the words made her feel—like a wave of warmth and excitement washing over her. She had spent so long fighting her feelings for Sunghoon, pushing him away, telling herself she didn’t need this, didn’t need him. But now, standing here in front of him, with that sign, with everything that had led up to this moment, she realized it wasn’t something she could run from anymore.

She wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to say, how she could even begin to process this. Her mind was a blur of thoughts—of their history, of the rivalry that had always been there, of the way they’d grown closer in ways she hadn’t expected. But more than anything, she knew she couldn’t ignore the way she felt about him.

“Sunghoon…” she began, her voice soft. The crowd was still watching, waiting, but she didn’t care. This was just between them, no one else. “You’re serious?”

He nodded, the smile returning to his face, though now it was more hopeful, a little vulnerable. “More serious than I’ve ever been.”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the weight of everything crash down on her. This was it—the moment she had spent so long avoiding. She didn’t know where it would lead, or how things would turn out. But as she looked at him, standing there, waiting for her answer, she realized she couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Yes,” she whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Sunghoon’s face lit up, his eyes sparkling with joy, and he took a step closer, lowering the sign in his hands and pulling her into a hug. Y/N laughed as she was enveloped in his arms, feeling a rush of emotions she couldn’t quite describe. He squeezed her tight, and for a moment, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.

As the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of something new. Something unexpected. But for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

AND THATS A WRAP!!

© luvoooenha on tumblr 2025. please don’t copy, repost, or translate my works! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :)

[lilyprettyremy]

Forget the Hype: Growth Doesn’t Care About Your Calendar

Okay, babes, let’s be real—by February, the sparkle of New Year’s resolutions has totally fizzled. Gyms are empty, planners are abandoned, and that "New Year, New Me" vibe? A distant memory. But here’s the tea: growth was NEVER about January 1st, and it’s definitely not about February 1st either. You don’t need a calendar to glow up. You just need YOU. Any day, any time.

Why the Calendar Mindset Is Overrated

Tying your glow-up to a date? Overhyped. Thinking one magical day will flip your life upside down sets you up for disappointment. Real change isn’t some midnight makeover; it’s built on tiny, fierce choices you make every single day. No glitter, no countdown required.

Focus on Small, Sustainable Habits

Forget giant, dramatic resolutions. The real magic? Small, cute habits that stick. Sip an extra glass of water, read a juicy chapter, strut on a quick walk. It’s giving consistent queen energy. Little actions, done daily, turn into BIG wins.

Plan for Setbacks—Because Life Happens

Let’s face it: life doesn’t care about your vibe check. Some days will be a whole mess. That’s not failure, honey, that’s just life doing its thing. A bad week doesn’t erase your boss moves from the past month. Setbacks? Just cute little pauses. The glow-up continues.

Build Systems, Not Just Goals

Goals? Cute. Systems? ICONIC. Want to read more? Don’t just aim to finish 12 books—create a cozy habit like reading one chapter before bed, blanket burrito style. Systems keep the momentum going when motivation dips.

Accountability? Yes, Please

Spill your goals to your bestie, join a squad with the same vibes, or track your progress like the confident queen you are. It’s not pressure—it’s your cheer squad, hyping you up every step of the way.

Growth Can Start Anytime

Waiting for Monday? Next month? Girl, that’s just fancy procrastination. Your glow-up can start on a random Tuesday at 3 PM or a cozy Sunday morning with coffee in hand. The best time to start? Yesterday. The second-best time? Right now.

Be Kind to Yourself

Self-improvement isn’t some straight path. Some days you’ll feel like THE moment, others you’ll want to hide under the covers. Both are valid. Celebrate your wins, learn from the oopsies, and remember: one off day doesn’t define you. It’s all about progress, not perfection.

You don’t need a fresh month or a new year to shine. You just need today. Go get it, gorgeous.

[xxsinisterbunniexx]

☣︎ Adverse Reaction ☣︎- X Virus x Female reader NSFW

Warnings: dubcon

Originally published on AO3, which you can read here if you’d prefer :)

Tags: aphrodisiacs, kidnapping, choking, slapping, degradation, praise, orgasm control & denial, fingering, face fucking, overstimulation, creampie

Summary: You were kidnapped by a mysterious man in a gas mask and now found yourself disoriented and restrained in a sterile lab. Your captor aims to use you as a test subject for a deadly drug, but it may not have the effects he intended.

Words: 6.2k

As always

☣︎ ☣︎ ☣︎all canon will be flexible to make way for sexy☣︎ ☣︎ ☣︎

Okay so I think this may be my fav fic I’ve written like ever???? I had so much fun writing this and I’m really shocked there aren’t more X Virus fics. I made him such a sarcastic little fuck here and I just adore him so much <3

Also like I KNOW I said I would be slower with fics when I posted my last one since I finished posting the ones I’ve had on AO3 for a while but I’ve been working on this one for a couple of months and I really did just finish it

They say humans have an innate ability to know when they’re being watched, something we honed through evolutionary changes in order to protect ourselves.

So when you were walking down the street unable to shake the feeling you were being watched, something told you you needed to get back to your apartment quickly. Something kept creeping into your vision, causing you to whip your neck around, only to find there was nothing there.

“I’m going fucking crazy…” you muttered to yourself, picking up the pace.

You started to feel a few raindrops hit you, because the world just hates you.

Just great.

Only a few seconds passed before it became a torrential downpour. You started to pretty much run to your apartment. You made it to the back door, where you always entered.

You were so frantic, both from the lingering fear and the way you were getting absolutely soaked right now, that you immediately dropped your keys.

Another hand grabbed them before you could. You whipped around barely catching a glance at who picked them up. He was tall with messy brown hair, a black hoodie pulled up over it. He was wearing blue goggles, but they were pushed up onto his head to reveal his eyes. The most notable thing about him was that most of his face was obscured by a gas mask. Your stomach filled with dread at the sight of him.

He pressed you up against the wall, holding a cloth over your mouth. His teal eyes narrowed at you as he held a finger over his mouth, signaling you to be quiet. It was the last thing you saw before everything went dark.

—

You woke up feeling like someone had smashed a brick into your head. You were sitting in a chair, head lolled to the side. When you tried to raise your head, you only felt dizzier. Your eyes seemed to swing across the room, never focusing on anything. The room smelled sterile and was surprisingly well lit, the bright lights only serving to further disorient you.

You tried to move, only to realize you were completely restrained. Your head fell downward, eyes finally focusing on the restraints that held you. They looked medical grade.

Everything about this situation was making you feel worse and worse. You weren’t kidnapped by some random sick fuck. This guy had professional equipment and from what you could make out, a seemingly legitimate place to do it. It being whatever sick shit he planned on doing to you.

You started to pull on the restraints, moving as much as you could, which wasn’t much given how tightly you were bound.

“Don’t struggle. You’ll only waste your energy.” A cold voice made you snap your head up and to the side.

There was a figure standing over by the table, looking preoccupied with something else. Your eyes were still blurry so you couldn’t quite make out what he was doing.

He started to approach you, setting what seemed to be a clipboard down next to you on the table. You whimpered, trying to get out of the restraints even more.

You heard him let out a tired sigh. “Don’t freak out yet. I’m just making sure you’re intact after your little nap.” He then shined a light in your eye, observing your eyes’ reactions before writing it down on his clipboard.

Your eyes finally focused and you were able to see the man in front of you, recognizing him as the guy who had kidnapped you. Those teal eyes were unmistakable. He no longer had a gas mask on, and you could see his whole face clearly now. He was… much more attractive than you would have expected.

“Cause… of the chloroform?” You almost didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, still disoriented.

He immediately burst out into a sick laughter, “Chloroform?! That’s what you think that was?” You didn’t understand what was so funny about that.

“What are you stupid? Watched too many movies?” He asked you rhetorically. When you gave no answer he continued, “Chloroform doesn’t actually make people pass out.”

You were shocked by the sudden change in his demeanor. One second he was cold and flat and now he was acting absolutely insane.

He recollected himself, his voice much calmer. “No, what I gave you was much better than chloroform. It was something I created myself.” He sounded pretty proud of that.

You were unsure of how to react to that. You trembled as you watched his movements. He read over whatever was on his clipboard, clicking his pen a few times before his eyes settled back on you.

“That was the final thing I needed to check before the test. Your blood already came back normal.” His tone had gone back to being flat.

“Blood…?” You looked down at your arms, and sure enough there was a gauze pad and band-aid on your right arm. He had taken it while you were sleeping.

You felt sick. What other things had he done to your body while you were asleep? What the fuck was he even going to do to you?

“Wait… test?” You asked, knowing you really didn’t want to know the answer.

“A new drug I just made myself. You’ll be the first person I try it on.”

“Drug? I don’t have any health issues… I don’t need that.” You said, sounding more desperate as you went on.

“I know you don’t. That’s why you’ll be the perfect test subject. No other conditions to muck up my results. Your death will be purely from this drug.”

Death. He really just said that. You felt like you were going through all the stages of grief at once. You needed to escape. He couldn’t do this to you. You had people that would be looking for you. But you were restrained so tightly and already weakened from whatever he’d already done. It was no use.

Despair washed over your body, pitting in your stomach. You started to tremble violently as the sobs began to wrack through you, tears prickling your eyes before falling into your lap.

He crouched down to be at eye level with you. “Stop crying.” He said in a cold tone, wiping your tears. The action was mechanical and lacked the warmth it would normally entail. “It makes it harder to see the results.”

You watched in horror as he got up, turning to the table beside him before picking up a syringe full of unknown liquid. He pushed a few beads of the liquid out, flicking the syringe to get out any air bubbles before turning back to you. There was a complete lack of emotion on his face.

“Please…!” You cried, squirming as much as you could given how tightly he had you bound. “You don’t have to do this! I won’t tell anyone about this or your experiments if you let me go!”

“Stop squirming!” He raised his voice, anger showing through. “Don’t you know that’ll only make this hurt more?” He asked as if you were stupid.

He cleaned your arm with an alcohol pad, waiting a few seconds for it to dry.

Why even bother cleaning it if he’s gonna kill me anyways?

Your stomach dropped when you realized your death might not be quick. He had only said it would kill you, not that it’d do it instantly. He seemed like the type of sick fuck that would get a kick out of watching you suffer, taking notes on his stupid little clipboard while you die slowly.

You winced slightly as the needle pierced your skin. In seconds he had injected the liquid into your body. Whatever it was, it was too late to do anything about it.

He made some notes on his clipboard, his eyes shifting between you and the paper. He was observing your every move.

I’m just some damn Guinea pig to him…!

Then he started to undo your restraints. You looked at him with bewilderment. He glanced at your face as he shifted to undo the other side. “Try to escape if you must but you should know that in less than a minute you’ll be too weak to do anything.”

Hatred of this man started to boil through you. You hated the fact that he was using you as a goddamn lab rat. You hated his matter of fact tone. You hated his stupid little clipboard. You may be too weak in a minute to escape but you already decided that the second the restraints were fully off, you were going to make a huge mess of this sterile fucking lab. You’d knock over all the vials on the table, all his equipment, anything you could get your hands on was going to end up on his precious white floor.

The final restraint was off and he backed away from you, clearly waiting to see what you’d do so he could document it.

Before you could even attempt to get up, you started feeling the effects of the drug. Your body started to heat up, your heart beating rapidly. Maybe it’d beat so fast you’d go into cardiac arrest and get to die quickly.

You tried to get on your feet, but your legs felt like jelly.

“I told you you’d be too weak to-” He said as you ignored him, trying to push your feet. “And yet you try anyways.” He said, another tired sigh coming from him.

You started to pant, using your arms to push yourself up. He looked surprised you were even able to do that, and then you immediately fell onto the floor.

You were kinda happy about it, honestly. The floor was cold against your skin, which was burning up. You had started to feel a little dizzy too, so nothing like a little horizontal time to fix that.

Then you started to feel the heat radiating from between your legs. It was quickly becoming a more prevalent issue. Your clit was starting to throb, cunt aching, desperate for any type of stimulation.

Now is so not the time.

Just what the fuck had he injected into you?! You thought it was supposed to kill you.

To be fair, it was. Your captor was also standing over you, wondering why you hadn’t died yet. Maybe you were special and it would just take a little longer?

Regardless, he now felt the need to act. He never wanted to interfere with his experiments, but if you were going to grovel on the floor like that then he wouldn’t even get to see your face when you died. That’s like… the best part.

So he figured he might as well get you up and on the table, makes it easier to do the autopsy later anyways.

“Hey, get up.” He lightly tapped you with his shoe.

You didn’t respond to him. While playing dead surely wasn’t your best strategy, you couldn’t get up even if you wanted to.

He groaned and grabbed your arm, trying to pull it over his shoulder to get you up. You were so limp that once he got you all the way up, you swung forward, crashing into his chest.

“Jesus…” he groaned, clearly annoyed by having to hold you up. He was struggling to get the right grip on you. Clearly he didn’t often deal with live people.

Finally, he settled on one arm around your thighs and the other around your waist, awkwardly dragging you to the table. Your face was buried in his neck, your whole body leaning into him.

This type of hold wasn’t doing you any favors given your current issue.

You felt so hazy. Your thoughts were racing and yet none of them seemed to make any sense. The thoughts that were ringing out the loudest though, were the ones about your captor holding you right now. His skin was so warm and he smelled so good and he was so close and… you just had the urge to bite him. It was a light bite, one that more resembled an act of seduction rather than self defense. He let out a slight groan, but this time instead of one of annoyance it was a sound that was congruent with your action.

He slammed you down on the table by your shoulders, his face inches from yours. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

You looked up at him, panting and flushed. He was pissed. Not much to do about it though, and also not much to fear anyways, you’d be dead either way.

He looked over your face, no doubt trying to analyze the meaning of your action. The confusion was evident. You didn’t blame him though, your actions were completely illogical. Even you couldn’t explain why you had just done that.

But the more he stared at you, the more you ached. You tried to subtly rub your legs together, any amount of friction would help sate you, you hoped. His eyes immediately caught the action, then flickered right back to your face.

It was funny really, watching a guy as intelligent as him slowly put the pieces together. It was like you could see the little hamster inside his brain start running faster on its wheel.

He grabbed your chin, pulling your face down to meet his eyes more. He was still scanning over you, like he was trying to solidify his conclusion.

Lightly, he used his thumb to press on your lower lip. He was testing the waters. Your mouth immediately fell open for him, and you ran your tongue over his thumb, sucking it into your mouth.

Immediately, his face went fully red. That didn’t seem to be the reaction he had expected. “What is wrong with you?!”

You too wondered that. This guy had kidnapped you, drugged you, and now all you could think of was how badly you were aching to have his cock stretch you.

“This wasn’t- did I make a mistake…?” He questioned himself. Well at the very least, you were glad this wasn’t intentional.

But at this point whether or not it was intentional didn’t really matter anymore. You pressed your thighs together even more, trying anything to sate the dull ache you felt between your legs.

The motion caught his attention again, and his eyes stayed fixated there for a moment, before slowly making their way up your body, to the dip of your waist, passing over the curve of your breasts, until his eyes stopped again, right at your mouth where you were still sucking on his thumb. You felt like he needed a little push, so you grabbed his arm with both of your hands, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and pulling two of his fingers in. You looked him in the eye as you ran your tongue under them and sucked.

It was just then when he got the most vile smirk on his face. The most emotion you’d seen him show thus far, aside from that little outburst when you had dared to call his precious work chloroform.

He leaned in closer to your face. “You want me to touch you?” His voice was so smug you wanted to rip out his vocal cords. It was his fault you were even like this, even if it was apparently an accident.

Your hatred showed on your face and he was just eating it up. “You do don’t you?” You kept your mouth around his fingers, not wanting to give him what he wanted. Yes, you would entice him but you drew the line at verbally begging him to fuck you.

“Not going to talk, huh?” He pulled his hand away from your mouth, moving it to grab a strand of your hair. “Let’s try a little experiment then.” He said, letting your hair slip out of his fingers.

He let his fingers lightly run over the skin of your neck, causing your whole body to jolt and shiver. Your panting got louder. You grabbed his hand, holding it in yours.

“Hmm. How interesting.” He sounded way too smug.

“Fix whatever you did to me.” You squeezed his hand tighter.

“Nothing intentional, since that’s what you’re implying.” His teal eyes met yours, and you could see the lust growing in him. “You just seem to be having an interesting reaction to the drug.”

He suddenly grabbed your face, tilting your chin up to look at you again. “But you’re being quite demanding aren’t you? What makes you think you deserve to be touched?”

You were so desperate at this point, writhing around on his table. “Please…” your voice sounded whiny and pathetic. “Please just help me.”

“Aww, that’s better.” He squeezed your face a little harder before letting go, turning to the table next to him and grabbing a pair of scissors.

“Wait…!” You practically screamed, bracing for the blades coming your way.

“Jumpy little thing, aren’t you?” He said as he cut through the fabric of your shirt. “Spare me the dramatics.”

Once your shirt was fully cut open in the front, he pulled the remainder of the fabric off of you, leaving you in just a bra.

He cupped his hands over your breasts. “Aww, this is cute. I’ll let you keep this for now.” He picked up the scissors again and cut through your bottoms, leaving your panties intact.

He trailed his hand down your body, his cold fingers making you shiver once again. He suddenly hooked his fingers into your panties and yanked them down. They were already so soaked there was a line of your arousal still connected to them. “No resistance? Wow, I guess you really are that desperate.”

If only he would shut the fuck up this would be perfect. He was being so annoying, but you had to keep your mouth shut, can’t give him a reason to be even more of a dick.

He pushed your legs apart, your arousal clinging to your thighs, a sticky mess all stemming from your aching cunt. He was completely entranced by it. “Fuck…” He cursed under his breath before letting his eyes drift back to yours. Your hips bucked up, shamelessly wanting him to just touch you already.

“Ohhhhh, you need it bad, don’t you, darling?” The use of a pet name was only scornful coming from his lips. He was taunting you, trying to make this more humiliating than it already was. However, it was becoming increasingly clear that his own control was waning. Maybe… just a little bit more enticement from your end and you could get him to snap and give you what you really wanted.

But you sure as hell still weren’t going to beg him… more than you already had. You slowly ran your hand down your body, along your curves and toward your cunt. Just as you got past your stomach, he grabbed your hand, slamming your wrist down onto the table above you.

“You’re that desperate you’ll touch yourself right in front of me?” He asked rhetorically, not even giving you a chance to answer. “That’s the most pathetic display I think I’ve seen in a while. I kind of want to take pity on you.”

His free hand snaked down to your cunt, just barely brushing over your clit. Your hips immediately bucked up and you let out a strangled whine. Just that tiny touch sent electricity all throughout your body.

He was entranced by your reaction to his touch. “Tell me, are you always this sensitive, or are you really that affected by the drug?”

Your brain was already going hazy, so you didn’t hesitate to answer him. “I’m not… usually like this.”

He brushed his fingers over your clit again, this time with just a bit more pressure, but still not nearly enough to sate you. You let out another needy whine.

“Amazing. It’s like you’re in heat.” He was becoming increasingly satisfied with the drug’s effects on you.

“I just know my fingers are gonna slide in your sopping wet cunt easily.” He pushed two long slender fingers into your cunt, as deeply as he could.

You arched off the table, hips bucking to try to feel him even deeper. “Fuck….!” You moaned out. You could feel every inch of his fingers against the inside of your cunt. Even without moving it was driving you crazy, the drug was making it feel so fucking good.

He let out a low groan, loving the way you were squeezing around his fingers already. “You fucking love this don’t you? Huh?”

“C’mon, tell me how much you love it.” His eyes suddenly went dark. “Tell me you fucking love it or I’m not moving my fingers.”

You could barely register what he was saying, your head already going fuzzy just from having his fingers inside. “I… love it…” you managed to breathe out.

“Oh, that wasn’t very convincing.” He started moving his fingers at an unbearably slow pace. “You’ll have to beg with a little more conviction than that if you want it.”

He was barely moving his fingers at all, and yet it felt so fucking good you had to bite your lip as hard as you could to keep from moaning loud enough for the entire country to hear.

Each stroke of his fingers was making you tighten more and more. Your arousal dripping out of you and onto the table, making obscene gushing noises each time he pushed his fingers back in.

“Faster…” you whimpered, feeling miserably pathetic. “I need it…”

He grabbed your face, tilting it upwards. “Still so demanding. You think you deserve this? You think you deserve me fucking you with my fingers?”

He stopped his fingers entirely, and yet just the feel of them inside you was causing your stomach to tighten, electricity shooting through your body, all to one place.

The pressure built and built, not even giving you time to say anything before you were already convulsing around his fingers, your cunt buzzing with pleasure. It was harder than you had ever come before. It felt like you were coming in slow motion, squeezing him hard and long each time your cunt convulsed.

He groaned when he felt you squeezing around his fingers. He couldn’t even come up with a way to taunt you. All of his attention was redirected to how tight his pants felt and the way his cock throbbed harder and harder each time your muscles tightened.

He was completely enraptured by you. Consumed with the need to touch you, to make you writhe and moan and bend to his will. He was already aching to fuck you but he knew he couldn’t give into his desires too soon. It would be a waste. He needed to know more about the drug’s effects. He needed to test it. He was way too into this, his only way to justify it was to call it an experiment.

“I didn’t even move my fingers and you came?” He was laughing, in awe of how easy that was. He was impressed with himself for making a drug that was able to affect you this much. Even if it was by accident.

You were still reeling, because, well he still hadn’t removed his fingers from you.

He got an evil smile on his face, downright diabolical. Your eyes widened a bit in fear. Whatever he was thinking it couldn’t be good.

“Surely, you understand. I made this drug by accident but…” he took a long pause, purposefully keeping you in suspense, drinking in the fear in your eyes. “It would be a waste to not test all the effects of the drug. I’ll need to collect as much data as possible.”

Without removing his fingers from you, he brought his thumb up to press on your clit. Your body jolted, back arched and trying to cling at anything under you, only for your hands to scramble at the cold table below you.

“So reactive.” He purred, starting to rub your clit in tight circles while he slowly pushed his fingers in and out. “Such a good whore.”

Your cunt twitched when you heard his words, already wanting to come again, craving it more than anything else.

“Oh, you liked that did you?” He leaned down, getting closer to your face again. “You like being called a whore.”

All you could do was shake your head, biting your lip hard enough to make it bleed to avoid moaning for him.

“No?” His voice was mocking. “You don’t like it? You don’t like being called a whore?” He started pounding your pussy with his fingers. “You don’t like it when I talk to you like the dirty fucking slut you are?”

Your stomach was tightening again. You could try to deny it verbally all you wanted, but each time he called you a whore you got closer and closer to the edge until you broke again. It felt so good, too good even. You felt like you were losing your mind.

He could feel you coming again, but he didn’t stop. He wanted to see just how far he could push you. What would your reaction be? Would you break and beg him to fuck you? Would you have tears running down your pretty face as you spread your legs wide for him?

“I can tell you’re coming again. You still wanna act like you don’t like being called a whore?”

You weakly gripped his arm that was pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt. “Please…. I can’t stop-”

“I don’t care that you can’t stop coming. Be honest. You like being called a whore.”

You shook your head again, a strangled moan escaping you when he pressed on your clit even harder. “Yeah, you like it. Nod your head and admit you like being called a whore. Nod your pretty little head.”

You began to nod your head weakly.

“That’s it. Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He shoved your bra up with his free hand, wasting no time latching onto your nipple and sucking hard. All the while, he was still moving his fingers.

Somehow it felt even better, and you wanted him to never stop. The feeling was addictive. Your body felt so different than usual. You were insatiable.

“Fuck…! Sso good…” your words started slurring, your brain feeling fuzzy. You were like a fountain, each thrust of his fingers causing more of your arousal to spill out of you.

He let go of your chest to wrap his hand around your neck. “You’re hopeless, you know that? Just a pathetic, helpless little girl who can’t help but get wetter and wetter. Cause I’m fucking you with my fingers, isn’t that right?”

You started to choke and gasp for air, but it only made your cunt tingle.

“I could fucking kill you right now. Do you get that? Do you even have a brain up there in that pretty little head?” His sharp eyes bore into your glazed ones, trying to fight from rolling them back.

“Don’t…. sstop.” You moaned out in a choked voice.

He laughed in amazement at your state. “Is this all you care about?” He said, pushing against your g-spot extra hard. “You don’t even care if I kill you.”

He was being so cruel, so awful, and yet it only felt better and better. A huge orgasm finally hit you and you felt a gushing heat release from you.

Watching you come so hard from being choked and threatened made his cock throb, a screaming reminder of how painfully hard he was. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He quickly unbuckled his belt, sliding it off and throwing it to the side. You eyed him while he pulled out his cock, dripping onto the table in anticipation.

You found yourself craving the cock of the guy who kidnapped you. More than you’ve ever craved anything before. Consequences be damned. You needed this.

He needed it too. You could see it on his face, just how worked up you were making him. It made you want him even more.

He ran his hot hard cock up your slit, coating himself in your wetness. He bit his lip, trying to stifle his groan. He ran it over your clit a few times just to tease you before pushing into your entrance.

He took a deep breath, pushing in slowly. Your cunt was sucking him in and it felt so good, but he didn’t want you to realize how much you were affecting him.

Meanwhile, the stretch of him was putting you into a state of euphoria. You could feel his thick cock throbbing inside of you.

He pulled back slowly, letting you feel every inch leave and the emptiness that followed. It only lasted for a split second before he rammed back into you, setting a brutal pace.

You spread your legs wider, addicted to the feeling. You’d already came so many times and yet you weren’t satisfied. You needed it again.

Your body was starting to tense, quickly gaining the feeling again.

“Are you about to come already?” He asked aggressively, while you were completely fucked out, only able to focus on the feeling of his cock. “Hey.” He growled out, his voice sounding low and gritty. “Don’t you dare come again, you’ve came enough.”

You whimpered, knowing that he was fully serious. “What?” You whined. “But- I can’t- I just-” There were tears brimming in your eyes. “Please?” Your voice became whinier as you frantically tried to get permission.

“Look at me.” He demanded. “I control when you come. Understand? You only come when I allow you to.”

You tried. You really did. But his cock was hitting just the right spot, over and over. “Please. Please just let me-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as your orgasm washed over you.

He felt you tightening around him, reveling in the feeling as he stopped moving. However, he was angry. Pissed even. You weren’t able to follow even the simplest of instructions.

He pulled out, yanking you up and pushing you to your knees on the floor. He grabbed your face, forcing you to look up at him as he towered over you. “You think you just get to come whenever you want? You think just because you’re a little pretty I’ll go easy on you?”

He spoke again before you could even try to explain yourself. “You’re no better than a fucking animal.”

He pressed down on your lower lip. “Open.” His authoritative tone left no room for disobedience. You obliged, taking his cock in your mouth.

“Suck.” He commanded.

You could taste yourself on his cock as you started bobbing your head. It was humiliating and yet… you were only getting wetter, dripping onto the floor. He was right, you were acting like an animal.

“Does sucking my cock make you that wet?” He laced his fingers into your hair, forcing you down on his cock. “Fuck… you look so good.”

You gagged on his cock, tears brimming in your eyes but you still made eye contact with him. “You’re acting like a perfect little slut right now.”

“Do you wanna come?” He taunted. “Why don’t you use your own fingers? Slide your little fingers into your cunt while you choke on my cock.”

You hesitated, not sure if he was really going to let you. Your fingers lightly brushed over your clit, causing you to moan on his cock. You needed to come.

“Yeah, fuck yourself with your fingers.” He encouraged. “Make yourself come while you suck me off. You have my permission.”

You filled yourself with your fingers, moaning when you hit your g-spot. Your fingers weren’t as long and thick as his, but it would have to do.

He groaned when you moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him shiver.

He was fucking your throat at this point, his tight grip in your hair almost as painful as his cock hitting the back of your throat, but you could barely feel it. The pain was insignificant compared to the way your cunt was tingling. Both your drool and your arousal were dripping onto the floor.

“Look at how messy you are.” He laughed. “You look like such a whore right now.”

You kept pumping your fingers into your pussy hard, desperate to come again.

“C’mon you can do better than that. Show me how much you want it. Grind your little pussy on your hand and come.” You obeyed, bucking your hips forward to reach deeper inside yourself.

With his permission, you released around your fingers. He pulled out of your mouth, getting too close to coming himself.

“You thought you could make me come in your mouth?” He pulled you back up onto the table. “If I’m coming anywhere, it’ll be inside your cute little cunt.” He pushed inside of you with no warning.

“That’s what you want isn’t it? You want me to come inside your pathetic pussy? You want me to make a mess out of you?” He gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Nod your head. You answer when I ask you a question.”

You nodded your head, your cunt becoming numb with pleasure. Your head felt like TV static as he pounded you again.

“You want me to use you huh? This is what you want. You want me to fucking break you.” He kept rambling on. “Look at your dumb fucking face. You’re so fucking pathetic.”

You had but a moment of sentience. Enough to try to say anything to put him in his place. “Well what- fuck….! ….about you? You’re not even on a drug.” You panted heavily in between your words. “You’re fucking me because you want to.”

He slapped you across the face. “Shut your whore mouth.” The look in his eyes alone was enough to make you wish you were dead.

Your bones chilled like ice and you remembered why you should fear this man.

He gripped your throat, his eyes piercing into your very soul. “You think I like this as much as you do? You think I need this as much as you do?”

You were stunned to silence, only able to make sounds of pleasure.

“You think you can manipulate me like this? You think this will make me want to let you go?” His cock was slamming into you hard. “I will never. Fucking. Let. You. Go.” Each word was punctuated with his cock pounding into you.

“You’ve given me a new obsession I hope you know.” He was sounding more and more insane as he went on. “I’m going to keep you and test more of these on you over and over until you fucking break.”

“Ahh, fuck, you wrap around me so good.” He growled. “You’re gonna make me fucking come inside you.”

You were so high off his cock that really anything he was saying to you was just noise to you. Nothing else really mattered if you could get him to keep fucking you.

“Kiss me…”

“You want a kiss? That’s all you want?” He leaned down, joining his lips with yours as he fucked you at a slow steady pace. His tongue intertwined with yours sloppily.

He pulled away after a few moments, panting heavily. His thrusts were getting erratic and you knew he was close to coming.

“God… your fucking cunt is perfect.” He buried his face in your neck, his voice cracking as he pulled your body closer to his, your chests pressing against each other.

“Come for me again. Be my good girl. Please.” He almost whimpered, your cunt already milking his cock, begging for his cum.

He bit down on your neck as he came inside, making a mess of your cunt.

It was only then, that with him panting on top of you, holding you close, that you finally felt satisfied.

—

You were sitting in the lab, curled up contently in the corner. It’s where you spent most of your time these days. There were other places to go but why would you want to be anywhere where Cody wasn’t?

Plus, he didn’t really mind it. You were his precious lab assistant after all.

You tried to keep up with what he was working on, but most of the time his thoughts were a little too all over the place to follow. So you were happy with just being in each other’s presence, occasionally glancing up to watch him work on his projects.

He suddenly stood up, catching your attention. He turned towards you with a telling smile on his face.

“I’ve got something for you.”

“Is that why you’ve been up for days?” You asked. He had the tendency to get a little too invested in this work, skipping regular meals and sleeping.

He dodged the question, pulling out his latest creation. “This time, it’s a pill. Since you always complain about the needle.”

You stuck your tongue out, eagerly waiting for him to give it to you. He smiled at you, placing it on his tongue and connecting his lips with yours.

You swallowed the pill, already eager about its effects.

He towered over where you were sitting, lifting your chin up. “Let’s get started.”

Like okay MEOW like I made him so sassyyyy what. Like when I was going back and editing this I was like omg Cody stopppppppp~ He's very different from any of the other characters, like I feel like he's not quite as impulsive as Jeff or Toby so he wouldn't like immediately try to fuck you. Like this man would have every intent to kill you. That's why it was so fun to write him slowly devolving and losing control like I had the time of my life with this one.

Feel free to leave me feedback/constructive criticism in the comments! I always love seeing people's thoughts!

~pls remember to distinguish fiction from reality

[dyaz-stories]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman || Park Chan-Young x f!Reader

summary: Yeong-Su breaks a window at the stadium, and Chan-Young takes the blame for it, resulting in severe consequences. Fortunately, you're here to pick up the pieces afterwards.

word count: 3.1k

warnings & tags: spoilers for season 2 of sweet home, violence, injuries, soldiers being assholes, coarse language, making out, the pronoun "she" is used in reference to the reader

A/N: couldn't find gifs for chan-young so I made this one, but I'm by no means a gif maker, so, yeah. Also, I don't know anything about baseball, so please pretend this makes sense if you know better. I'm not sure which team Chan-Young was supposed to be on, so I picked the Doosan Bears because Sweet Home takes place in Seoul. Finally, it's my first time writing for him, so I hope you'll enjoy my take on this character!

It’s another day at the stadium, which means it’s another day of boredom.

Oh, there are things to do around here, sure. If you don’t mind being ordered around by soldiers who stand behind you with a scowl on their face and remind you that the only reason you’re even there is because of their good will, you’ll find a job to do. Cleaning a corner of the stadium, probably, in hopes that someone will be able to live there — as if there were enough mattresses — or doing the inventory, again, while looking the other way when rations mysteriously go missing and everyone knows who’s doing the taking.

Thing is, you’ve never been one to grovel. In fact, back in the Before days, you were the one giving the orders. Youngest assistant coach for the Doosan bears, the Seoul baseball team, you were in line to become the youngest coach in the history of the country. And, yeah, you weren’t completely in charge, but you were trusted. You had responsibilities. People knew to take you seriously.

You’ve had ideas for how to run this place more efficiently, to avoid making the civilians feel like they’re second-rate citizens, but it’s been made clear to you that you weren’t welcome to make suggestions. So you haven’t bothered, lately, but you also won’t play in that stupid game, where people get to change the rules without telling you.

It means that you do a lot of aimless walking around in the stadium. Chief Ji implicitly lets you roam around, a testament to the fact that you knew each other well back in the days, when you used to bring her coffee before big games, but you mostly try to make yourself useful in the way soldiers haven’t bothered accounting for.

A lot of that means keeping an eye on kids that are left to themselves otherwise. Their parents are busy, and it’s not like there’s much to do for them, here, so you try to keep them entertained. Unfortunately, you’re no teacher, meaning that it’s a lot of physical activities, wherever you find enough place. Other days, people who are teachers take over for you. That is the case today, meaning you’d have the day ‘off’, if it weren’t for Yeong-Su not showing up for class.

You don’t personally think he should have to attend class. You know how mean the other kids can be to him, and though the teachers don’t do much in the name of keeping the peace, you don’t let that fly when you’re in charge. Which is probably why the kid never misses your classes, a small pride that you keep well tucked in your heart.

Still, the teachers insist that you make sure he’s okay, so you agree to go try and find him. He knows the stadium well, meaning it will be no easy task.

You end up finding him throwing a ball against a wall. It looks like he’s practicing his aim, you think when you notice that he’s drawn a square on it. You’re about to approach him, maybe give him a few pointers, when a particularly hard throw has the ball bouncing too high and it crashes through a window, finishing outside of the stadium.

You freeze. Monsters don’t approach the stadium much — it’s been months since there’s been a case of that happening.

But the mere thought of there being something open here still has your heart pounding with fear. It’s only a few seconds before you compose yourself, but that’s long enough for someone to come running. You rush towards Yeong-Su, prepared to fiercely defend him if you need to.

It’s Chan-Young, and you relax, even if your heart is now pounding for a whole other reason.

“What happened here?” he asks.

He may have been running with his whole equipment, but he shows no sign of being out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong-Su mumbles. He’s hard to handle, especially these days, but he clearly respects Chan-Young a lot. “I didn’t mean to— I was just practicing and—"

Oh gosh, you realize, kid was practicing pitching, and it’s not lost on you that that’s the position Chan-Young mainly played as.

“…and now I’ve lost my ball,” Yeong-Su sniffs.

He’s trying to hold back tears, and it tears a little piece of your heart away. You know that Yeong-Su had found a ball autographed by Chan-Young, know that it’s one of his most prized possessions. It’s no surprise that Yeong-Su can’t stand the thought of losing anything more than what he already has.

Chan-Young glances at you, still standing a few steps behind Yeong-Su.

“He didn’t mean to,” you say. “I’ll help you fix the window.” Eun-Yu probably won’t mind giving you a hand, too.

Chan-Young nods, and you watch as he puts a knee to the floor, so he’s at eye-level with Yeong-Su. If he was any other soldier, you’d be more cautious, but you know him. Worked with him, when he was on your team, lost him when he enlisted, and now you’re in this strange limbo, where he doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you, even though there is this obvious familiarity between the two of you, every time you do speak.

“You need to be more careful,” he tells Yeong-Su, putting on his Serious voice. “If a monster heard that and came in, it could be very dangerous for everyone. And if you’re in front of the window when it happens, it would attack you first. So don’t let that happen again, okay?”

Then he gives Yeong-Su a small, comforting smile.

“If you want to practice again, come ask me next time, okay?” He glances up at you, and there’s such softness in his eyes when he does. “Or ask the coach. She knows her stuff.”

You’d never become coach, not officially, but his use of the word makes your heart swell.

“Okay,” Yeong-Su mumbles, staring down at his feet.

For a moment, it looks like everything will resolve itself just like that, and you’re already putting a hand on Yeong-Su’s shoulders to pull him away with you, when you hear the familiar stomping of military boots coming towards you.

Chan-Young’s expression changes immediately.

“Go,” he orders.

“But…”

He spins around to grab your shoulders, lowering himself to look straight into your eyes.

“Go,” he repeats. “Please.”

There’s such urgency in his voice that you can’t deny him, even if you’re not sure what is going on exactly. You grab Yeong-Su’s hand and pull him with you until you’re both behind a corner, just in time. You keep an eye on the scene, confused. The soldiers behave like assholes, you know that, but surely—

“What happened here?” the Sergeant bellows in Chan-Young’s face. “You’re lucky it was us, who were standing outside the window, and not something else! You better have an explanation, soldier.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Chan-Young says, shoulders straight, from what you can see. “I was just practicing and—”

Before you can wonder why he’d lie, the punch catches him in the stomach, and he doubles over in pain. You catch yourself before you can gasp out loud, and instinctively cover Yeong-Su’s mouth, which is probably a smart move, because he starts thrashing to run towards Chan-Young. You don’t blame him, but you also absolutely cannot let him do that, not right now.

“Yeong-Su,” you whisper, mimicking Chan-Young’s attitude with you just a minute ago. “You need to go back to Ms. Cha. Okay?”

“But they’re…”

You wince, because they’re still berating Chan-Young, and one of them has just given him a hard kick to the ribs. All the more reason for you to intervene.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise, but I can’t do that if you’re here. So go back to her, and I’ll come see you when everything is okay again, alright?”

He sniffs, rubs his eyes to hide the tears, then turns around and runs. At least he’s got a good survival instinct, you think, even if it hurts to remember where it comes from. The second you’re sure he’s not coming back, it’s your turn to run, but towards the soldiers this time, with a confidence that you now worry is wholly unwarranted.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s enough?” you interject, maneuvering so you can get between them and Chan-Young.

There’s a scoff and they roll their eyes. One of them puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes, but you barely take a step back. You’re used to men trying to intimidate you.

“I thought we’d made it clear that your opinions weren’t welcome,” Seo-Jin snaps at you, getting too close to your face for comfort — like that would make you budge.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat up someone because he broke a fucking window, when if you’d gotten to work, that hole would be closed by now,” you reply on the same tone.

He opens his mouth to yell at you once more, a vein bulging on his forehead, when Chan-Young comes to stand in front of you. He’s barely just gotten on his feet, has one hand pressed against his rib cage, and still, he’s already coming to stop you from taking any risk. You want to scream at him and hug him all at the same time.

“Please, sir, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Neither does he!

“That’s enough, Seo-Jin,” sergeant Kim finally intervenes, and the man immediately takes a step back. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Chan-Young. “And fix the hole,” he tells you, as an afterthought, before leaving and taking his team with him.

Your blood is boiling. He might try to be the voice of reason now, but you saw him doing nothing while his men got blood on their hands so he wouldn’t have to.

You don’t have time to think about it, though, because next to you, Chan-Young has slowly let himself slide to the floor.

“Are you okay?” you ask, panicked, while he grimaces and leans against the wall.

“I’m fine,” he says, an obvious lie. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You took responsibility for something you had nothing to do with, but I’m the one who shouldn’t have said anything?”

He sighs, shakes his head.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says. He looks at you with warm eyes, and you feel your breath catching in your throat.

There’s something about Chan-Young, there always has been. You always have to remind yourself that he’s nice to everyone, because he’s such a kind person. Even that didn’t stop you from falling for him — and it’s the second time that it happens, damn him.

“I’ll go get medical supplies,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here.”

“There’s no need to—”

“Please, do you want to die from an infection after surviving all these monsters? Stay. Here.”

You ignore any further protests as you rush to get the supplies.

It doesn’t take you long. Chief Ji provides you with what you need without questions, and apologizes for not being able to give you painkillers — they’re reserved for emergencies, she explains. You know the other supplies are, too, but you understand her reasoning, and just thank her with a quick nod and a promise to help out for the next few shifts outside the stadium, if she needs it.

When you come back, Chan-Young’s moved to sit on one of the boxes that are always laying around in here, and you grab another one to sit across from him.

“Open your jacket,” you say as you take the disinfectant.

“I— I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with an eyeroll, because the guys on the team weren’t exactly shy about taking their shirt off in front of you and he should remember that.

He clears his throat and glances away, and you notice his ears turning red.

“Um, right. Yeah. Just a second.”

Under the jacket, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt, and he lifts it up so you can see for yourself.

And it’s not looking good. The area is red and swollen already, and you worry it will be worse soon. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that, so you disinfect the scratches caused by the boots, and gesture for him to put it back down. You’d normally advise to put something cold on it, to calm the swelling, but that’s not really an option here, not when the little electricity you have is mostly used to keep the lights on.

“Try not to move around too much, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” he says with a brief laugh. It’s a silly recommendation, and you both know it, but you still felt the need to say something.

“Now give me your hand, I’ll see what I can do.”

He does, and you carefully turn it to check the palm. You’re not sure if he hurt himself when he fell earlier, or if it’s just that there’s constantly manual work to be done and it’s hard not to injure your hand. Either way, you start cleaning it and disinfecting it as well.

“Do you think they would have been as hard on a kid?” you ask.

“No!” he protests immediately, maybe a tad too strongly. “They’re humans. I’m sure they wouldn’t have—” He interrupts himself, and you suspect that he knows they still could have hit him, a thought that makes your stomach turn. “But… Yeong-Su’s had a hard enough life as it is. People here are not… kind to him.”

“I’m not blaming you, especially after that,” you sigh, “I just— You do realize that it’s not your responsibility, right? I’d have helped the kid, and it could have ended better than…”

You gesture vaguely at him, and he closes his eyes for a second. He closes his fingers over yours where you’re holding his hand, rubs his thumb over your skin, which sends a wave of heat through your body. It only lasts a moment, though, before he catches himself and lets go.

“I’m— I was in charge, when his sister— I was supposed to be helping them. And I failed him.”

“What?” Ms. Cha told you that story, in hushed whispers, to explain why Yeong-Su was such a complicated child these days. It had been clear that there was nothing Chan-Young could have done. “You can’t blame yourself for someone turning into a monster and going on a rampage.”

“It happened on my watch,” he insists. “If I’d been more careful— If I hadn’t left the bus—”

You stop yourself to look at him straight in the eye. He’s close, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, not with him.

“That could have happened to anyone. You couldn’t have planned for it.” He exhales, long and slow.

“Thank you for saying that,” he says, but you can tell that your words haven’t sunk in. It breaks your heart, and yet you have no idea what more you can say. After all, you weren’t there. It makes sense that he wouldn’t believe you.

“You still shouldn’t put yourself in the line of danger to—” to what, anyway? Expiate his sins? What does he have to prove? Does he have a death wish or something? “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.”

“Better me than Yeong-Su,” he insists. “He’s just a kid, and he has his mom — well, Ms. Cha. And he has you.” You set the disinfectant back down, hands almost trembling as you realize where he’s going with this. “Better me than him,” he just concludes sadly.

“Park Chan-Young,” you say, “you don’t seriously think that, right?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes when he replies.

“He has a family here. I— don’t really have anyone—”

You’re not sure what goes through your head when you put your hand on his cheek and kiss him. If you had to rationalize it — which you’re not really in any position to do when it happens — you’d say that you just wanted to prove him how wrong he was. Truth is, though, that you also couldn’t bear the idea that you were letting him believe that when it was so entirely untrue.

His lips are warm against yours, and you think you feel him leaning into you, but you pull away too soon to know.

“There,” you say as you gather your things. “Now you know you do have someone, so don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily, alright?”

Then you’re on your feet, hell-bent on fleeing the scene.

Of course, Chan-Young catches up with you in an instant. He grabs your wrist, and pulls you back against him. His eyes are wide as he searches yours.

“Did you mean that?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat.

“Mean what?” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re… not sure where he is going with this.

“It wasn’t pity, right? You— I have you?”

The words almost send a shiver down your spine.

“Of course you do. I don’t exactly go around kissing people—”

Next thing you know, his hands are cupping your face and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you feverishly, like he desperately needs you to prove your words to him. You kiss back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. It isn’t long before your back hits the wall and you let out a brief groan.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling away from you to check on you. “Are you—”

You don’t let him finish, pulling him back down against you. His hands move down to your waist, one of them slipping under your t-shirt to feel your bare skin. He’s kissing you slower now, more sensual, and he abandons your mouth to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, before he comes back to your lips.

“I shouldn’t—” he mumbles against you. “I’m not supposed to—”

“Everyone’s doing it,” you reply, but it doesn’t surprise you when he tears himself away from you. He’s a sight to behold, flushed and out of breath — and is it odd that you enjoy seeing him panting from kissing you when you know he can run for hours without struggling? He’s always been one to stick to the rules closely. It says a lot that he broke one right now, but you won’t push him any further, not until he’s ready.

You take a step back towards him, take his hand in yours, and press your lips to his cheek for one last, soft kiss.

“Don’t forget now,” you say. “You have me. Don’t risk your life without thinking.”

He doesn’t kiss you again, but he leans in to press his forehead against yours, squeezing your hand in his.

“I have you,” he repeats, as if to convince himself. “I have you.”

I hope you liked it! as always, if you did, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought! feedback is really motivating and is what keep us authors going, so leaving a comment or sending an ask or anything really helps to keep me writing!

more writing for sweet home

[nfr-girly]

You and Hasan separated and co-parent, but he still loves you // Hasan x reader

Summary: Hasan wants to convince you to give him a chance again

border by: @enchanthings-a

*this is a pt 2 but can be read on own* part 1

You set up the table as you wait for Hasan to arrive, you know what you two will have to talk about eventually but you don’t think about it

you hear fast footsteps running before a force is collided into your legs almost knocking you over

“Oof! Baby calm down” you pick up Theo and he giggles

“When is baba coming?”

“soon baby he’s bringing Kaya too!” He gasps in excitement before jumping down to go watch tv

half an hour goes by and all the food is prepared, you sit on the sofa with theo when you hear the doorbell ring

“BABA!!!” Theo bolts toward the door and tries to open it but is to short to reach, you chuckle and go to open the door.

you open it to Hasan, all dressed up with Kaya next to him, Kaya runs into the house before you can say hello

“BABA!!” Theo jumps up and down as Hasan picks him up, trying not to have his eardrum burst

“Hey big guy how are you? I missed you”

Theo starts rambling on about stuff, Hasan listens and chimes in now and then, but you don’t miss his glances at you

“Baby give baba a minute okay?” You laugh as he runs back into the house

You turn to Hasan to find him already looking at you

“Hi”

“Hey”

You two are silent for a second before you invite him in, he hangs up his coat before you lead him to the living room

“It’s really nice to have you here, i didn’t cook anything fancy we only planned this yesterday so..”

“Hey it’s okay, I miss your cooking anyway, you were always better than me” he chuckles

You two sit with Theo for a few minutes before heading to the table to eat

“I’ve prepared a special meal for Kaya too, I remember all her favourites”

“You’re kidding, after this she’ll love you more than me”

“That’s what I aimed for” you smile

Hasan helps Theo get on his chair as you hand the plates of pasta out

“Tell me this is with your homemade sauce because I could die for it” Hasan says

“It iss so you better like it” you joke

“You need to give me the recipe, you kind of owe me”

“For what?”

“Well I gave you a baby!”

“What so the morning sickness everyday for 9 months wasn’t enough?”

Hasan shuts up.

You all sit at the table and begin dinner

Theo talks about his time at school, speaking twice as fast so none of you could keep up

When you and Hasan can get a word in, you talk about small things that have happened in your lives, you didn’t realise how much there was that you hadn’t told Hasan. 4 years ago you two told each-other everything

Dinner flows by, and it feels like nothings changed. It feels like the dinners you would get before Theo could even talk, before all the arguments you and Hasan would have, before Theo had to go live with your mom so he wouldn’t hear the things you two said

You and Hasan never liked to talk about what happened, right now you two were friends and it felt better to stay that way.

You all finish dinner and Hasan helps you tidy up, Theo is worn out so you take him to bed

He gets changed and you tuck him into bed

“mama, is baba gonna stay?” You’re taken back slightly by his question

“No baby he has to go home soon”

“Whyyy I don’t want him to go, can he read me a story?”

“Let me ask him okay?” You go downstairs and ask Hasan, to which he agrees and you both go upstairs

“Hey bud, what do ya wanna read?”

“This!!” He pulls out a book and Hasan cosies up next to him

You’re about to leave when Hasan says “you coming mama?”

You think for a second before joining them, Theo lies in between you and Hasan

He begins reading softly to him, making sure to take his time. Near the end Theo starts snoring so you both know he’s asleep.

Hasan smiles and puts away the book, you both gently get out of bed and head downstairs

“I haven’t read to him in ages” he says

“I know, you should come over more often”

Hasan looks at you, longer than he wanted to

“So uh, are you and Kaya headed back home?”

hasan stops, “well, I was hoping we could talk about what I said yesterday”

Your breath catches in your throat - you were really hoping he’d forget

“I know that you don’t like talking about it, which is fine because I have a lot to say. I know that you and me didn’t work out, and I know that it was really bad last time. Believe me I’ve been scared myself, I don’t want that for Theo again”

“But it’s been 4 years, you and me worked it out, we broke up, we worked on ourselves and became friends again. And I’m happy we did that. But as soon as we both got happy again I felt so fucking miserable. Because I didn’t have the love of my life by my side which by the way you are, that’s never going to change. I just want us to be a family again, me, you, Theo and Kaya. so just please give me a chance, and if it doesn’t work out again then I’ll never say anything more about it.”

By now you’re tearing up, you have a million thoughts in your head and you don’t know which one to focus one

“Hey hey” he steps towards you, wiping your eyes

“Don’t cry okay? Please I hate seeing you upset”

“I’m not upset it’s just.. I’m so scared Hasan, Theo’s only just gotten used to the fact his parents aren’t together, but I know he still remembers our fighting. I just know, and I don’t want to put him through that now that he’s older”

Hasan takes in your words, he knows there’s a bigger risk than he realises but his need for you grows stronger

“I promise you, that I’m not going to let this ruin us, we’re better now, we’ve worked on ourselves. Nothings gonna change the fact that you’re the one for me, and I know you still love me.”

“Just tell me if you want to try again, I’m not going to force you but I don’t want you saying no just because you’re scared” Hasan pleads

You look up at him, you know you want to try again, and as much as you want to say no, you can’t help but wonder how things will end up if you try

“Okay” you nod

Hasan is taken back, “what?”

“Okay, we can try this out”

Hasan takes a moment before he smiles

“Really baby you mean it?”

You laugh slightly, “yes I mean it, but I want to take this slow, no rushing into things”

Hasan agrees, before thinking

“I know that you just said we can’t rush into things, but I really wanna fucking kiss you right now so can you give me that?”

You laugh and nod, Hasan doesn’t give it a second before he pulls you in and connects your lips to his

He holds your waist as you hold his face, all the worries you held wash away because all you care about now is him.

————————————————————————

guys call me shakespeare I wrote this in like 30 minutes

🏷️ @mavericksice @thatsactuallyinzane @kaya-p @fullofgutsndopamine @inhibitionfreewriting @the-phantom-author @makeandshift @hot-insurrectionist @hasblair @haileyisnotcool @xxepherr @hoziersmom @w3-posts

(tagged people who interacted with part 1 in case they wanted to read part 2)

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Batter Up

This new apartment was at least three times better than the hovel that sent you through the floor and into Simon’s lap. Both the deadbolt and the doorknob locked and used the same key! It had only been a month since moving in and you were still learning how to coexist with a man who maybe spent three out of every ten days in his own bed.

He didn’t text much and had yet to give you a heads-up on when he might be home. Today would be your only day off this week and you spent it deep cleaning the apartment and settling the last of your items into their homes. You had vacuumed Simon’s room, your room, and inside the couch. It was a newer couch but you still didn’t trust that it would be clean. The last one spawned crumbs like it had been put on this plane for that purpose alone.

As the sun settled you settled as well. TV on, volume low, you sip a glass of wine and relax until nearing midnight. Settling into bed you leave only a small plug-in nightlight in the kitchen to illuminate the darkness.

Quiet sounds, shuffling of feet, and the lock of the front door sliding home wake you from a restful sleep.

Terror kicks off as you fight to free yourself from your blankets. A bat lived under your bed next to the headboard for this reason. It had to happen while Simon was gone—course it did. Your toes are silent on the carpet as you pull out your protection. The bright pink softball sock had been a gift from a friend who moved before you finished school.

Opening your door on silent hinges you slip into the hallway. All is dark in the flat like you left it. There. Someone moves in front of the night light.

Lining yourself up with the opening into the kitchen you pull back, wound and ready to beat the brakes off whoever broke into your flat.

You catch him in the stomach as he steps from the kitchen. Your fear spikes when you see he is wearing a mask. There is no reason to wear a mask at night.

“Oof.”

Large hands grip the bat to his stomach. In a fight of muscle, you would have lost. Good thing you had your handy dandy sock. Pulling the bat down the length of the hall you leave the intruder with nothing to turn against you.

Winding up you aim higher this time.

He moves faster than his size suggests. One paw of a hand clamps down on the wrist closest to him, the other on the bat. Your sock must be on the floor somewhere.

The wailing cry that burbles out of your throat as your shoulders are slammed into the wall overtakes whatever your attacker is trying to say. The bat leaves your hand, fingers fighting in vain to hold onto the knob.

“Hey.” He shakes your shoulders back against the wall, “Hey, it’s me. It’s Simon.”

“S-s-simon?” You hiccup out the word.

The darkness obscures him still.

“I am going to let you go and turn on a light. Stay.”

You slip down the wall, strength leeching into the floor. The kitchen floods with light and there he stands, your roommate. You had hit the man with a bat.

A new kind of horror slips through you. Both hands cover your mouth in shock.

“I’m so sorry I hit you with a bat Simon. I didn’t know you were going to be home tonight.” Your words come out muffled by your fingers.

He groans as he settles down next to you on the floor of the hallway.

“It’s my fault for not letting you know we would be in tonight,” he winced as he shifted his arm over your shoulder.

Leaning in you let your tears water the sweat stains on his hoodie, a bit more salt won’t change much.

“Yeah,” you sniff, “Maybe we can make it a rule to tell me when you’re coming back?”

Simon laughed and then groaned. You started apologizing for hitting him so hard.

“Quit apologizing for protecting yourself. What was that on your bat anyway?” he looked to the floor outside the kitchen. Incongruous the pink sock causes both of you to laugh.

When you settle in bed after a cuppa, heart more settled than when you woke, the image of that single sock would leave you smiling as you drift.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3

@lilynotdilly @theyarereal I finally remembered to finish this thought.

[corseque]

I wanted to make a last-minute prediction post based on what I’ve seen so far. I haven’t looked at new Dragon Age news for the past couple (3? 4?) weeks, and I know I’m (on purpose to avoid spoilers) missing some (probably a lot of) details that other people already know. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW. So if I’m already right or wrong about something,

PLEASE please DON’T TELL ME.

You can come back in a month and tell me THEN. It’s just one more month to wait.

Also, this is just for fun, and it’s not serious. It’s based on vibes and also based on what I would write myself. I have developed a surprisingly specific image of what might happen to Solas and I’m just want to write it down.

I’m thinking “there is no possible way this is right………” but then I’m like “unless…..?” so a vague chance of potential spoilers

First, I’ve been suspicious about the elven gods getting free and Solas being trapped. If you think about what Solas says in Trespasser, it’s very

Part of Solas’ aim that has so far been revealed to us is he likely wants the Veil torn down, and one of the only things that is keeping him from that is the reality of the elven gods trapped in there, who would be released.

Inquisitor: “If you destroyed the Veil, wouldn’t the false gods be freed?”

Solas: “I had plans.”

But that is no longer a concern from that moment in the gameplay trailer where they are released. 

“I intend to restore them. Doing so will most likely destroy your world.”

Two elven gods rampaging across Thedas sounds like the kind of “the world is being destroyed” situation Solas was talking about. It is his incision that breached their prison, and it isn’t impossible that Rook may have been almost manipulated into completing it. I wonder if Solas is playing his two sets of enemies against each other yet again?

In the old tales, Solas uses his enemies to fight each other while he is tied to a tree, trapped. He gives both sides equal advice until they are both defeated, at which point he frees himself and finishes what he set out to do. 

Honestly, even though he’s “trapped,” it sounds exactly like the sort of thing that needs to happen for his work to continue.

(All of this is speculation that I think I’ll have a better idea about once I hear the full first conversation with him, and exactly how he words his point of view of what happened. If he’s very squirrelly in his wording, I’ll know he may have caused it on purpose.)

“I seek regeneration,” he said in Vows & Vengeance. The devs had said that Solas has been bringing back magic for centuries before the series even started. Perhaps it explains why the dragons have returned. It seems that his reshaping the world, regenerating it, will be successful because it seems to be moving steadily without him. So maybe this is a last and, once in motion, inevitable step in “healing” the injured world.

I think that the elven gods are very scary and world-ending, but Solas is the only one of them that reshaped the world successfully. He will be the one to do it again, not Ghilan’nain or Elgar’nan or any other god. He is a trickster his, and Tricksters are the Gods of Inevitable (otherwise catastrophic) Change.

One of the greatest criticisms of Inquisition was the lack of screen time Corypheus had. And how the climax fell flat at the end because he didn’t have enough screen time. This leads me to believe that Solas may be the “Last Boss” of DA4. Because we definitely HAVE a complicated satisfying personal relationship with him that has been set up for two whole games.

So the ending for Solas needs to do a lot of things:

“These are the times in which legends are born or slain” Solas as the Dread Wolf will die

It needs to work for both people who love and hate Solas

In order to defeat the Elven Gods, Rook has to find their weakness, which is Solas’ weakness too (maybe a fatal flaw, or how they can be truly killed) so it can be used on Solas too. Perhaps this will involve Solas trying to obscure this from Rook as best as he can

Solas fully is on Rook’s side against the evanuris, but when they’re taken care of, he doesn’t need to team up anymore

I don’t believe that you will be able to stop Solas’ plans, and I hope that they will change Thgedas’ world no matter what. I hope it’s just a fact of life that the Veil comes down

The story basically needs to involve Solas betraying Rook again, because new players need to experience that feeling in order to be in the same place with him as they were in DA3

It needs to give players a torn situation about him, one that makes you feel he’s reasonable but at the same time make it satisfying to fight him. So I believe this is why he will betray the player again, even if he is getting along with them.

I believe there needs to be a boss fight against Solas because he does have a cool big monster form and people have been promised to be able to kill him

It needs to be satisfying for those who romanced him too, but it also needs to be beautifully sad because part of the draw of the romance compared to all the others in the series is that it’s beautifully sad

For that reason, I suspect (not because I particularly want this to happen, I’m just saying what I see most likely) is that fighting and killing Solas may not actually be optional, and he is killed in every worldstate. This way, everyone gets a last boss fight and everyone experiences pretty much the same story without much branching 

I think the difference between friendly and unfriendly version may be whether he is brought back to life by the efforts of those who care about him after he is killed

So basically:

Veil comes down/magic comes back

Solas helps Rook take down evanuris

Solas betrays Rook when it seems the story should be over

Boss fight with Solas as the Dread Wolf (see: my Tulpa Theory)

Solas is defeated and killed

Story ends there if Solas is hated, (story about Rook getting revenge)

If Solas is loved, Solas is brought back and rebirthed in another freer form through a spirit ritual, perhaps as Wisdom, but some part of it is bittersweet like Rose and Doctor 10 (story about regret).

But basically, no matter how Solas and Lavellan’s story ends, their love enduring will be the path to joy, or them being together. Rook can kill Solas and Lavellan can bring him back. Even if it has to just happen off-screen or in fanfic.

I think it is very likely that Solas kills Varric or another character as a way to transition from passive threat to active threat. Or maybe Rook is responsible because of the theme of regret, idk. But I think we’ll get a great cathartic end for Varric probably.

I think we may have to choose between Varric and the Inquisitor, because it’s similar to the Hawke-Alistair choice

I would be very surprised if the story ended with Solas and Lavellan went off into the sunset together in a perfectly happy ending with nothing bittersweet. But sadly, I don’t really see this happening and I think bittersweet may be the name of the game.

Other things I predict:

We can assume that the Inquisitor will have an optional death scenario when they reappear, where we choose either to let them sacrifice themselves in some way, or save them. So perhaps there is an ending where Solas and Lavellan die together and can be free as spirits, which would also be bittersweet.

I don’t really have predictions for anything but Solas, so the big lore reveals might change the situation so much that none of this applies or makes sense anymore. In which case I will probably be HAVING FUN.

I am not EXPECTING any of this to happen, I am just writing it down and posting it in case I’m right. Anyway please wait until I’m done playing to tell me if I’m right or wrong, and this is just for fun, I wouldn’t mind if the whole game was completely different.