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#sunnie's fics!!
sunnie-writes · 6 months
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cupid's chokehold.
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pairing: jax x cupid!gn!reader
tags & tropes: fluff, shameless flirting, fell first/fell harder
summary: you were absolutely confused because of two things: one, you got transported to a random dimension and became a totally different person, gaining the title of a cupid, and two, you had fallen in love at first sight with the most sarcastic purple rabbit man ever. well, at least you didn't felt like complaining on the second part.
tell me, sunnie!!: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA... anyways, hiiiii:3 i got a new fandom added to my brain, injected it into my veins and now i am addicted. so, this funky little guy didn't actually catch my attention at first but then i watched some edits and was like "HMMMMMM i mean yeah sure" and then i decided to check tumblr, stumbled on a fic of him and went "OH. OH." yk?? anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this bc i wrote it instead of sleeping and i have to wake up early tomorrow el oh el!!1!1!1!1
warnings?: kissing, suggestive(?) i mean it's just neck biting but idk........
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first of all, you don't know how the hell you are... here, nor why you've been stuck in this place for two weeks already.
it's a colorful world, saturated to the maximum amount possible. you know, the type to burn your eyes if you stare at a specific spot for too long. it also looked like some kind of fever dream, with all the toys scattered and the way different people? characters? looked like.
not like you can say much, you have heart shaped pupils and you're wearing something that looks like an ancient greece tunic. also, sandals. you have these big feathered white wings that are a pinkish hue at the tip of every single feather. you tried pulling one out to see if it was actually real, resulting in a yelp from your mouth. it kinda hurts.
and that reaction caused a chuckle to come from someone who has your eyes dedicated to just admiring them.
frankly speaking, if you went back and told your past self that by putting those weird vr headset glasses on you would be signing up to falling for a tall and lanky purple rabbit with a yellow smile, you would probably just chuckle and still do it, but with even more determination than before. eh, what can you say? you've always been attracted to the weirdest characters anyways.
but this... this was real, he was real and he was talking to other real weird animated people. ragatha rambled next to you about... honestly, you didn't even know, too busy watching from afar a certain rabbit. this was the start to possibly one of your most frustrating crushes ever.
"[name]? are you okay? you seem more distracted today?" she worriedly asked, putting her hand on your shoulder, "you shouldn't think too much about trying to find an exit if that's what you're thinking about, you might get abs-"
"huh? no, i wasn't thinking about that!" you quickly hurried to give an explanation, trying to dismiss that idea from her, but your eyes darted again to the overall wearing guy and she followed your gaze.
she slowly moved her head back at you after seeing what you were so... distracted about. a smirk broke in her face.
"oooh, little [nickname] has a cruuush?" ragatha teased you.
"wha- no- that's not-" before you could continue, your flushed cheeks got even more red as you saw him approaching. you immediately shut your mouth and just looked at the floor, trying to quickly hide your face
"sup', what are you two gossiping about today?" jax spoke in a mocking, sultry tone that had melting down a drain... not literally though.
"oh, nothing. you know, just the usual!" ragatha quickly tried to hide that topic from him, trying to distract or something. play it cool!
"uh-huh, and why is little cupid over here heating up like a preheated oven?" you almost choked on spit before looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and slightly flushed cheeks.
"none of your business, jax, don't bring your teasing and mocking over to [name]!"
"aww, why not?" jax dropped his hand on your shoulder, "say, little cupid, i heard doll face over here mentioning a crush, who do ya' have the hots for?"
your mind instantly went to answer "you" internally z meanwhile, your lips just answered in an almost quiet sound.
"i'm not telling you."
"huh, and why is that?" he leaned in close, and suddenly you felt absurdly claustrophobic.
he looks so... absurdly attractive with that smirk. you wish you could wipe it off of his face.
"because..." it doesn't take too long to come up with an excuse, you're an overthinker who is always prepared for this kind of situation, "you would mock me for it, and i don't feel like getting bullied by a purple beanpole."
"gasp, you wound me with your hateful words!" he dramatically posed, meanwhile ragatha chuckled in the background. "how can a cupid, made of pure love, be this mean?"
you just lightly punched him in the arm at that.
---
night time seemed like a blur to you in this world. sleep? never heard of that.
it's been a month already and your crush hasn't faltered. instead, it got bigger each day, but to be fair, it was impossible for it to not grow. jax decided that, for some reason, he liked teasing you a bit too much since he found out you might have a crush on someone.
playful flirting seemed to be his favorite to use on you, since you just tried your best to not show how it actually affected you. honestly, you felt like some kind of cliche teenager movie where you're about to write his name on a notebook with hearts all around it.
and that felt too cheesy, even for a cupid.
---
oh my stars, he wishes it's him.
you know, at first when you arrived at the digital circus, jax paid no mind to you. i mean, yeah, you were probably the cutest person in this digital purgatory, but he didn't think that he could fall for anyone in here, this isn't some weird sitcom episode. but it was starting to get difficult to not let him lose himself in a romantic trance when you were around.
he wonders if you used anything on him that could've possibly made him slowly fall for you, hard.
in the second week, he began noticing things about you. for example, you laughed at his jokes and sarcastic personality, got irritated for his pranks but never screamed at him, just shrugging it off like normally, you didn't even care when he stole something from your room.
it was mind breaking to just try and see what could get a reaction out of you towards him. until it was revealed that you had a crush on someone in that place.
jax isn't dumb, he already caught you looking at him from afar just to fastly change your gaze and get flustered, how your hands trembled when you were near him, heart eyes expanding when he talked to you. so, just to test if his theory was real, he decided to leave a subtle flirt for you. and that was checkmate.
he thought at first that it was weird, that maybe he could just play with you a little bit and entertain your little crush on him. but then, the spell turned against him. you flirted back once, and that made him feel awfully fuzzy minded. now, he was the one staring at you from afar sometimes.
that wasn't in his plans, falling for you even harder than you fell for him wasn't supposed to happen. yet, it did anyway.
and now the realization dawned on him that, at some point, he's going to have to either confess or simply hide that for forever, since that's the time they're gonna be stuck in the same dimension together. how fun, isn't it?
---
your feet took you outside of the tent, as everybody was now sleeping comfortably in their own rooms. well, at least you thought they were. stepping onto the grass and breathing in some fresh air, you looked up, waved at the sun and the moon, who smiled back at you contently. then you finally sat down and layed on the saturated green ground, looking up at the fake stars.
you sighed heavily, trying to distract your worried mind that screamed about wanting to get out and at the same time never wanting to leave. it was downright confusing, and left you with pent up energy that made your brain go 100/mph.
you heard footsteps behind you, looking up just to meet with a yellow smile and cartoonish eyes. you immediately gulped as his smirk grew.
"heyyy little cupid, what are you doing here so late?" he questioned you with a lower tone of voice before sitting down by your side. you immediately sat up too.
"just... thinking about some stuff." not losing any chance, you tried to start a conversation. "what about you?"
"meh, just bored and couldn't sleep." jax then looked at you in the eyes. "what could you possibly be thinking about?"
"ah, you know... just the usual!" you tried to quickly change topics, you didn't feel like traumadumping on anyone today nor did you feel like telling him that he's the reason you didn't abstract yet.
"and, does the usual involve your secret little crush?"
your breathe hitches, "why are you so curious about who i like?"
"i just am, it's interesting to see your reactions when i mention them." he leaned down, holding his head with his hand as he still stared at you. "why don't you tell me who it is? i'm starting to get the wrong idea that it's me since you refuse to speak about the mystery person to me."
you think you just felt your heart stop. your eyes go wide and you can feel the heat coursing through your body, blood rushing and flushing your cheeks. you know what? okay then, since there is no escape from this situation, might as well finish the night with a bang before you leave to sleep.
"that's... not the wrong idea at all." you confessed, watching as his eyes went wide in a millisecond.
"what." he spoke before sitting up and grabbing your shoulders. "you're not fucking with me, are ya?"
you shook your head while embarrassingly looking to the floor, feeling frustration pooling in your head.
"no, i'm not. i like you jax, i like your stupid pranks, your stupid jokes, your mischievous smile, your ey-" you were cut off by lips meeting with yours.
as your current situation settled in your mind, you got yourself comfortable and closes your eyes, lacing your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer before you two fell back again, you under him. your stomach was doing backflips, breaking down at the feeling of being reciprocated.
when you finally broke apart, your heart eyes were absurdly big, staring at him while you panted for air. he chuckled at your face, giving a big smile while himself was actually melting at finally having you in his arms. jax laid his head on between your neck and your shoulder. you petted his head, until you felt something.
he was biting your neck, leaving love bites and hickeys behind.
first of all, you didn't even knew if he could open his mouth, but apparently he could (?). you couldn't think much of it, too busy holding back an embarrassing whimper. you held his head and tried not to close your legs around his waist as he continued to bite.
he pulled back, looking at you with a smirk and raised eyebrows.
"well, look what a mess i've done, darlin'. how do ya' feel?"
you couldn't even answer, feeling absolutely overwhelmed by his hand on your waist, the knee resting between your legs and your mind slowly losing it's control. instead of an answer, you just pulled him down for another kiss.
yeah, you probably were enjoying that, but jax? ha! in his mind, he was melting down a drain, patting himself in the back for the idea of deciding to take a night walk and accidentally seeing you. he grinned into the french kiss, feeling absurdly high at the moment.
he wasn't sure how everyone would react to you finally being his, not that he cared about their opinion, but he thinks if would be funny to see their faces. he can't wait for it to happen, but now it's not time to think about that.
it's time for him to think on how to calm his rapidly beating heart that might give you the hint that he loves you way more than you love him.
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tell me, sunnie!!: AAAAA i finished writing this only the next day, sorry if it's too short btw!! i know it missed a lot and should have more things but it was rlly rushed bc i want to write more of him <\33 but yeah, thank you for reading sunshine!!
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fic-over-cannon · 4 months
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Jason Todd loves casual intimacy, not that he’d really ask for it. You are always welcome in his space and it thrills him when you accept that like it’s always been yours. He likes it when you lean into his side, rest your head on his shoulder, press kisses to his temples. He likes it when you curl your fingers into his hair absentmindedly or seat yourself in his lap like you belong there. He likes how unapologetically you’ll drape yourself over him, sometimes just for the sake of touching and sometimes just to grab something he’s in the way of. Little touches to his neck, shoulders, back. He likes seeing you in his stolen clothes, and the extra toothbrush in his bathroom. The first time he hears you refer to him as ‘yours’ he has to consciously start breathing again. Mine, my boyfriend, my partner, my husband.
Jason likes to come up behind you, sling his arms around your waist and press a kiss to your hair before resting his chin on your head. He likes knowing which shampoo to buy for you for the apartment without having to think about it. He likes it when he curls an arm around your shoulder and your hand reflexively reaches up to link your fingers. He’ll reach for your hand first but you’ll always reach back. He likes carrying you when your heels hurt too much and telling you all the ways you look gorgeous in your going out clothes. He likes knowing what your sleepy face looks like and how it feels to kiss the sleep out of your eyelids. He likes knowing the weight of you in his arms and the warmth of your palm when it cups his cheek.
Jason Todd loves the casual intimacy of your two lives tangled together.
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sunnami · 3 months
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❝time will tell.❞
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[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]
summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞
pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)
word count. 9.5k.
tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf
note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one
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HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society. 
At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black. 
Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.
Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun. 
Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways. 
But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun. 
Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused. 
You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.” 
Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt. 
“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?” 
“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”
You reach over to smack his head, scowling.
“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?” 
You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?” 
“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.” 
“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.” 
Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)
“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—” 
Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society. 
“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly. 
Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.” 
You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?” 
The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it. 
That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.
“That slimy bitch!” 
Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity. 
The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give. 
You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress. 
You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry. 
You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight. 
But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat. 
You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period. 
When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then— 
“That’s Sirius.” 
You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.
Sirius Black.
“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit. 
“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.” 
Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”
You gasp. “That’s horrible!” 
Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.” 
You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either. 
After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”
“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.) 
“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”
A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.” 
Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.” 
You grimace. “Which cousin?” 
He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”
This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.” 
“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.” 
“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”
“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.” 
When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.” 
You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.” 
“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice. 
You nod. 
Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”
Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.” 
The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.
You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe. 
You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.
They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.) 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.” 
Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you. 
You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.” 
When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?” 
Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?” 
Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.” 
“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.” 
“Oh, Harry. . .” 
It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?” 
You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath. 
“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”
“It’s—”
“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”
“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly. 
“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?” 
“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.” 
“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?” 
You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”
“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes. 
Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.” 
Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be. 
“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”  
Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.” 
“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding. 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space. 
A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered. 
Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved. 
Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease. 
(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open. 
“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”
“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)
But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision. 
“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.” 
“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears. 
“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!” 
James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.” 
Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.” 
With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked. 
Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?” 
You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations. 
“It was fine,” You say in a daze.
Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?” 
Were you? 
You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend! 
There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize. 
Then, you find it. 
Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face. 
It’s a space on that wall just for you. 
James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.” 
“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much. 
James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”
“James, I can’t do this.” 
That’s all you say before you run out of the door. 
(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.) 
You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe. 
James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”
You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.” 
“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.” 
You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well. 
James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.” 
“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes. 
He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.” 
“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”
He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!” 
You don’t look back. 
(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. 
“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.” 
Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair. 
“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.” 
James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”
“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.
You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you. 
Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?” 
Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”
“Got anymore stories?” He asks. 
You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!” 
Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?” 
“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.” 
Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.” 
“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater. 
Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra. 
You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.” 
“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more. 
“Certain,” You respond, yawning. 
As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones. 
“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!” 
Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out. 
“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came. 
“I know,” You say defeatedly. 
“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.” 
“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.” 
Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?” 
“I don’t know,” You say honestly. 
Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.
“What?”
“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”
(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora. 
You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—” 
“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”
Oh, Harry knows.
And Hermione knows it all too well. 
“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”
At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin. 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.) 
“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.” 
You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.” 
Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”
Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home. 
You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order. 
“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips. 
Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.” 
“I’m always right.” You pout. 
Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”
“Without a doubt.”
You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.
“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.” 
As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back. 
How lucky you are. 
“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen. 
“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly. 
You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.” 
Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!” 
Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”
You grin. “Is that a yes?” 
“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.” 
“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.” 
Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor
“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway. 
Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:
“We’re all getting married!” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.” 
You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.” 
Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will. 
“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.
You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!” 
Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.” 
You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?” 
Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.” 
“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.” 
Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.” 
“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.” 
Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?” 
“His hair?” James exclaims in horror. 
Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”
“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?” 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.” 
“I’m telling Euphemia on you!” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll. 
Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”
“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.” 
You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”
“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them. 
(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.” 
“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?” 
“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”
You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.” 
James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.” 
You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)
Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness. 
Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters. 
The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement. 
Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue. 
“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead. 
“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.” 
“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?” 
When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast. 
“Avada Kedavra!” 
You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor. 
“No!” 
You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice. 
“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh. 
“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?” 
“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”
“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need. 
“Expulso!” 
Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down. 
“Accio wand!” 
The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense. 
“Peter?” You call out. 
“Crucio!” 
The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt. 
“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!” 
It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.
“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.” 
“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.” 
You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat. 
“Defodio!” 
You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground. 
That just leaves one more problem. 
Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.” 
Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.
“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.” 
Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.” 
“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.” 
“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die,  s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.” 
Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow. 
Oh.
Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work. 
You just wanted to rest now. 
The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words. 
“Avada Kedavra.” 
(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms. 
You’ll feel my blood on your skin.
You’re a dead man. 
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. 
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.” 
“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely. 
Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?” 
Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?” 
Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?” 
Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.” 
Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.
Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?” 
“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors. 
James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!” 
“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.” 
James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.) 
ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus. 
He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains. 
You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.) 
Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”
He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by. 
“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”
And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for. 
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end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!
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cybersunnie · 19 days
Text
So Divine ✶ Steve Harrington
18+ / MDNI — literally just smut w/ some fluff, f!reader, petnames (sweetheart, baby) got inspired by @/season4steve's comments (wc: 1k)
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Steve was a gentle lover.
Compliments, spontaneous gifts, late-night calls because he wanted to hear your voice before bed. He was always soft and sweet with you, all boyish charm and smiles.
With his parents out of town again, you and Steve had the house all to yourselves. It started innocently. A movie night at his place, cuddling on the couch, the light touch on your hip growing more greedy as the night went on. You tried to ignore it, eyes trained on the screen, but you were still all too aware of his glances and smirks that meant no good. 
Your efforts were pointless.
The cheesy horror flick Steve had mindlessly picked out at work turned into background noise when he leaned in and kissed you slow, testing the waters. Your lips melted between his, warmth blossoming in your chest, your skin tingling. Whispers of I want you filled your ears, and you were suddenly putty in his hands—a mindless thing made of flesh and bones.
One thing led to another, and the both of you stumbled up the stairs and to his bedroom, giggling into the other’s mouth.
Your curves and edges, and his scars and birthmarks.
Steve had you pinned beneath him, his sheets wrinkled and a mess, clothes discarded and forgotten. You gasped so prettily for him, your face crumbling with ecstasy every time his hips snapped forward to meet yours, the slow drag of his cock making your head spin.
Even as he took you, Steve was nothing but gentle. Every kiss and touch ghosted over your skin like he was afraid to hurt you. 
As if you were a delicate flower, each limb a petal he wanted to preserve, to dote on. 
“You’re so pretty,” he rasped out, his nose nudging yours, urging you to look at him.
You keened, cheeks burning, eyes hazy with pleasure. How Steve looked at you was overwhelming—like you were the only good thing in the world.
"Yeah? You like being my pretty girl?"
You nodded and held him tighter, not wanting this to end. Your nails dug into his back, the crescent indents adding to his constellation of moles and freckles.
With Steve, all you saw were stars.
His gaze softened, a crinkle between his brows. "I know you do," he murmured, ducking his head down and kissing your jaw. Steve felt you shiver, your cunt squeezing his cock, snug and warm. He fought the urge to bite your shoulder as he buried himself deeper inside of you. "Fuck, sweetheart. You're killing me."
You wondered if Steve knew how much control he had over you. If he knew that his voice made everything around you feel light. If he knew that, in your mind, he embodied the night sky.
That he was timeless. Divine. A mysterious beauty.
He deserved to know.
But your voice was gone, the words stuck in your throat. The knot in your stomach grew tighter. The inevitable inched closer. You could only utter a meek whimper of his name with your fingers digging into his flesh. 
Steve pulled his face from your neck and looked at you, stilling himself. “What, baby?”
He sounded so concerned, so sincere—it just made you want him more.
You whined and pressed the heels of your feet against his ass, begging him to move, to keep fucking you. Thankfully, Steve took the hint, pulling out a few inches before pushing back in, his heart swelling with pride when you whimpered.
Steve knew you were close. He could fucking feel it.
"Keep squeezing me like that—holy shit," Steve groaned, almost whining, as your cunt pulsated around his cock. "You're close, huh? You gonna come for me?"
Overwhelmed, you shut your eyes. It was too much. Steve's body flushed with yours, your ears buzzing, your heart pounding so hard it rattled your ribcage—it was all too much.
And Steve noticed. He always noticed.
Soft and soothing, he whispered your name and grasped your chin, your skin warming under his fingertips.
"Look at me."
Reluctantly, you opened your eyes. Steve smiled the same smile that swept you off your feet the first time you met him. He leaned his forehead against yours, his usual sweet brown eyes hardened with lust, with the desire to please you.
"There we go," Steve murmured, kissing your lips. He let go of your chin and moved his hand, his large palm enveloping the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, your brows drawing tightly together as Steve kept fucking you nice and slow. "You still with me, yeah?"
You nodded, mind-numbing.
"Yeah," he cooed, his mouth hovering over yours, breaths mingling. A pitiful whine escaped you, and he swallowed it with another kiss. "You're okay. You're doing so good."
It was all tangled heat and longing. Your hands trailed into his hair, soft and roots drenched with sweat. Mouths hung open, moans and gasps, your hearts becoming one.
Steve grunted, head dipping down into the crook of your neck, his hips rocking into yours. "C'mon, baby, give it to me."
You were at his mercy, unprotected, bare of armor.
The knot snapped.
Pleasure erupted in the pit of your belly and wrecked through you. You cried out his name in gasps and moans, your legs locking around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Steve whimpered as if he was wounded, his thrusts faltering, tongue swirling over your pulse points, and teeth nipping at your skin.
Wrapped up in the other and your sweaty limbs entangled, the intensity died down, heavy breaths filling the air. Neither of you moved—a silent agreement to stay connected a little longer. 
"I love you," Steve whispered, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw until he reached your mouth. He stared at you with adore-filled eyes, his cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from your own doing. "I love you so much."
Through your haze, you grinned, fingers sowing through his hair, "I love you more."
Steve snorted, shaking his head. "Impossible."
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author's note: yay i finally finished something!!!!! it had been such a long time since i wrote smut so i'm sorry if this wasn't up to par LMAO but i love me some soft and sappy sex
anyways i hope you enjoyed this!!! tysm for reading! <3
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crow-cap · 14 days
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quick thing of a lesson in changing the world by @thousand-sunnies because it made me giggle
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asukiess · 1 month
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Plagg (Miraculous Ladybug) Additional Tags: Post-Episode: s05 Re-creation (The Final Day Part 2), Post Season 5, Drama & Romance, Angst, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Needs a Hug, Self-Esteem Issues, Established Relationship, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Lila Rossi as Cerise Whatsherface, Character Study Series: Part 1 of you should be happy Summary:
In the wake of a summer that Adrien never wanted to end, all that he wishes to push away comes back to haunt him when the school years starts again: self-doubt from identities that feel no more real than anything else; ghosts of parents who still talk to him; and most all, a fear that the people he loves will leave him in time, too.
however, maybe the person who can relate most to him is the one he's never far from.
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gojocumeater · 5 months
Text
Cry for me
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꒰ genre ⤑ SMUT
꒰ warnings ⤑ husband!gojo, soft dom!gojo, sub!reader, dacryphilia, overstimulation (multiple orgasms ), !!concensual sex!! , mention of safe word, praising, pet names, hair pulling, marking, fingering, oral (f.receiving), unprotected sex, penetration, creampie, cockwarming.
꒰ words count ⤑ 1.1K
꒰ A/N : hi guys, here's the first fic I'm posting on this blog. Please I will ask you to not mind my mistakes, English is not my first language. I really hope you will enjoy this fic. I'm a feedback craver, don't be shy and leave a comment xoxo - sunny
M RATED
“I can’t Satoru." you whimpered weakly.
Satoru hushed you softly stroking your thigh “you can do it baby hm?”
You shook your head whining “c’mon love, i know you can.” he looked up at you from your parted legs, his lips glistening with your essence.
You nodded hesitantly as he smirked “that’s my girl."
He dived back down, getting closer to your heat again, looking up at you one last time before connecting his lips with your glistening ones.
His hands were pinning your waist firmly to the mattress as he was laid comfortably between your weak legs. He ate you out, eyes closed as he focused on you.
Switching to your swollen clit to nibble on it making you arch your back, hands clenching desperately at the soft sheet. He sucked on it harshly ripping out a loud moan from your throat.
You were close to your release, so close your thighs started closing shakily around his head. He knew it too, at the way you were squirming.
He smirked slowly inserting two fingers at once into your wet walls. “S-Satoru oh my- fuck!” your hands found his snowy white hair pulling on the soft tresses.
“Cum for me princess.” Satoru said before kitten licking your clit, the tip of his tongue pushing you over the edge.
A wave of pleasure washed over you, making you cum hard for the third time tonight.
“oh my god!” you came all over his face and fingers, legs trembling as he stoke them gently.
”you did so well... so good for me.” he said leaving butterfly kisses on the inside of your thighs. He laid a gentle kiss on your abused clit making you hiss at the overstimulation.
Your husband caressed your sides, lips on your tummy ”so soft.“ he murmured lips traveling their way up to the top of your collarbone giving it a light bite.
“Satoru.” you moaned softly.
He painted little red and purple flowers on the sensitive skin of your neck. ”look at you.”
He pulled away admiring his masterpiece ”you look ethereal." he said making you look away shyly.
“cute.” he smiled.
“can you handle one more, darling?” he caressed your cheek gently. You stared at him hesitantly, your last orgasm too recent to confront another one.
“just one more princess, hm? ” he kissed your jawline still caressing your cheek “for me?” he whispered.
You gulped taking a deep breath before nodding making him bite his bottom lip, a smile drawing its way on his lips.
“remember the safe word?” he asked in a serious tone.
You nodded again.
"no no baby. I need words.” you smiled tiredly before replying.
“yes, I remember the safe word.” he pecked your lips “good."
Satoru got rid of his pants and boxer throwing them over the pile of clothes laying on the carpeted floor. He spread your legs making room for him to lay in between them again.
“if you want me to stop at any moment, if it’s too much, tell me and I will stop right away. I don’t want to hurt you.” he laid a tender kiss on your forehead making you smile.
“I will.”
Satoru positioned himself at your entrance “you ready my love?” he looked deep in your eyes, waiting for approval.
“yes.”
He rubbed his cock on your glistening lips teasingly. 
A quiet sob escaped from your throat when he entered you slowly. You bit your bottom lip hard, eyebrows furrowed as you threw your head back at the painful yet so delicious stretch.
You whimpered as he started rolling his hips slowly.
“'Toru  I-”
A loud moan passed by your lips as he suddenly snapped his hips into yours “fuck yes! right there!”
Your fingers laced into his soft white curls pulling on them tightly. He moaned the little burn turning him on even more. 
You groaned , your nails digging into his muscular back forming like crescents as he hits your g-spot repeatedly.
“baby .. you feel so good! So warm and tight for me.” he moaned.
“You’re doing so so well for me princess.” he kissed you passionately taking his time to suck on the abused flesh.
"I want you to cry.. cry for me.” Satoru whispered, a soft smile adorning his lips. He looked so adorable. How was it possible? In such a moment? You shut your eyes close, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
He buried his head into the crook of your neck, one of his large hand placed on your waist holding you still, the other one holding your thigh above his hip as he reached deeper. Hitting all the places he couldn’t before, making you see stars. “fuck I’m so close!” you sobbed.
"You look so beautiful like that.” he moaned, eyes sparkling at your ruined state, tears ready to slid down your cheeks. 
Satoru could have sworn he could cum at the sight in front of his eyes, your teary eyes, body covered in hickeys, love bites, you biting your lips to keep your pretty sounds to yourself.
“baby, let me hear you.” he nibbled on your earlobe, his warm breath caressing the skin of your neck.
You scratched his back as he picked up the pace, hitting you at the right spots. He took both your hands placing them at each sides of your head, intertwining your fingers together.
“'Toru, I-I’m .. ah” your voice cracked.
”I know, come for me.” he whispered pecking your lips softly.
“cum princess.” you squeezed his hand harder as you could feel the oh-so familiar knot in your stomach making you clench around him, low moans leaving his throat.
You cried out, tears sliding onto your cheeks as Satoru watched you in awe, eyes following the tear’s path down to your neck.
“fuck look at you.” he bit his lip.
“so fucking beautiful and.. ruined.” he trailed out lust laced in his voice.
You kept on tightening around him, pushing him more and more close to his own orgasm too.
"Fuck yes!” you threw your head back deep into the pillow, your fingers tightening his as you came around him.
Your little sobs made him felt lightheaded, your wet cheeks such a turn-on for him. He couldn’t hold on any longer, he whimpered as he came inside you, filling you up to the brim, your velvety walls still clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.
Satoru moaned your name loudly head dropping on your sweaty chest.
You both took deep breath to calm down, heart slowing down gradually. 
You whined weakly when he moved a little to get comfortable.
“shh it’s ok, you did great..” he soothed you.
He kissed your tears away, caressing your cheeks gently "you were amazing baby. You were such a good girl for me.” he hummed softly when you caressed his scratched back. 
“I love you.” he said lovingly as he nudged the bridge of his nose with yours cutely.
He stayed inside you, his body laying on top of yours.
“I love you 'Toru.” he left little kisses on the valley of your breasts as you played with his fluffy hair, before pulling him up to cuddle.
✭ A/N : so, here's my first fic here. I hope you enjoyed reading it. have a lovely day/ sleep well :)
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macfrog · 2 days
Note
what are joel, sarah, ellie, and reader doing on a typical day like today?
i had an ickle answer for you, non, but then @mrsmando sent me this tiktok and said it was scom coded, and - well. here's what my babies were up to today.
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the whole world 1.8k words | series masterlist warnings: lots of sickly-sweet family love, couple teeny mentions of ellie throwing up, joel's a flirt at the end
“…beautiful blue skies all day today with highs of eighty in some parts, cooling down into the sixties as we head into the evening…”
Your skin still smells like the pool.
Chlorine, chemical summer – and the sweet spritz of sunscreen. It’s still glistening, still shiny and tacky on your arms.
The girls were bathed the second you got back inside. Sleeves rolled to your elbows; suds slipping down swollen, sun-kissed cheeks.
One hand at Ellie’s back, the other swishing water at her tummy to make her giggle. Joel knelt at your side, wrestling with Sarah over a soaked sponge the entire time.
He kept wringing it over her head, cracking up at the look on her face – water dripping from the tip of her nose and her pouted bottom lip.
Mama, she announced – with a twang even sweeter than her dad’s – I ain’t talkin’ to Daddy no more.
You scoffed, nudging a rubber duck along the water to Ellie’s open hands. I’ll believe that when I see it, Duck.
As the water drained from the tub, Sarah let Joel bundle her in a towel and follow her – a trail of damp footprints along the hall carpet – into her bedroom to grab her pajamas.
Lasted long, didn’t it? you muttered to Ellie, swaddling her in a dino bathrobe.
It’s May. Everything is alive and bursting with color. The birds and the bugs and the static from the radio. The windchimes and the orange slices and the tickticktick of the neighbor’s kid’s bicycle, whirring past the house.
Your daughters giggle, sharing secrets through nuzzling noses and flashing toothless grins. Nearly seven and just turned one. All their mom’s beauty with their dad’s old soul, so you’ve been told.
You figure it’s just a flowery way of saying perfect. Everything about them is perfect.
Everything about this is perfect. The slow-setting sun, needling between the trees as she slips from the sky. The cool shade under the porch, the soft tinkle of ice in your glass. The scrape of the dog’s claws on the wood as she slumps down.
This life you’ve dreamt up, held together by string lights and hanging plants; made real by the trike parked over in the corner, the teething toy wetting the tablecloth.
It’s all so fucking perf–
A clatter echoes from the kitchen.
“Shit – Jesus –” Joel hisses, another crashing sound swallowing the rest.
Sarah peers up at you, eyes wide. Knees tucked under her chin, tiny in the chair beside you.
“Did you hear that?” you ask her, lifting your eyebrows. Doing your best not to break into a grin.
The corners of her mouth twitch. She looks just like you, in this light. Same cheeky smirk. You never really noticed it until you saw it on her.
“No,” she mumbles, pressing her lips into her knee. She giggles.
Your eyes thin. “Mhm.”
“Mhm,” she mimics, reaching for her Barbie.
You lean back in your chair, arms wrapping a little tighter around the toddler in your lap. “You sure you’re okay in there?” you call through the house.
Joel’s arm swats around the kitchen doorframe. “Fine,” he says. “Fine. It’s just – goddamn it – it’s fine.”
“Heard that,” Sarah says. She stares at the doll’s hair, combing it flat.
“Shh,” you whisper, hearing the creak of the floorboards.
Joel materializes on the porch, balancing three plates in his arms. A stained towel slung over his shoulder, his shirt loose and chest dappled with sweat.
“Alright,” he pants, bending to set yours down first.
Ellie twists in your arms, her green terrycloth spikes flapping as she turns. The hood slips over her eyes and you pull her free.
You grab her hands before she can slam two tiny fists into the ravioli. “Jesus, Nel,” you snort.
She pulls herself to her feet, swaying from side to side on your thighs. Watching Joel intently as he sets Sarah’s plate down, then his own.
He straightens, running the towel between his hands. “Can I sit next to Mama?” he asks his daughter.
She shakes her head. “I’m showin’ her my Barbies.”
“Can you show her them from your own chair, Duck?”
Another head shake. “How is she s’posed to see ‘em?”
His eyes flash up to yours. His expression sets like stone.
All these years, all that time you spent desperately trying to crack him. Chiseling away with tools made from jokes, from teasing. From frisbeeing his newspaper and aiming for his plant pots.
A little smile; a quiet, “How am I s’posed to see ‘em, Joel?” – and you melt him instantly.
He breathes a laugh, shaking his head as he wanders around the table. This huge, broad man, squeezing into the space by the windowsill. Dotted with toy animals and scattered miniature accessories.
He pulls the chair out and settles back into it.
You nudge his calf beneath the table.
Joel’s hands find your knees, slipping around them. He pulls your ankles into his lap, thumb trailing circles on your skin, and picks up his fork.
“Alright, Duckie,” you elbow her gently, “Barbies down. Look what Daddy made us.”
She fixes the pink pumps back onto the doll’s feet, straightens her spacesuit, and sits her carefully on the edge of the table.
Ellie blows a raspberry and collapses again into your lap. She yawns, turning to snuggle into your chest.
“You wanna try a little?” you whisper, blowing on a piece of ravioli.
She steals it from your fork and suckles on it. Her long lashes blink slower and slower until her eyes are closed, full cheeks still chewing.
Joel scoffs. “That’s her mom. Right there, that’s all you.”
“Fallin’ asleep with food in her mouth?” you chuckle, kissing her head. “Glad I’m leavin’ some legacy.”
“Uhuh,” he replies, tongue in his cheek. His eyes flash golden when they meet yours, brighter than the sun.
Ellie’s warm under your cheek; her skin still as soft and plushy as the day you met her. She quietens, stills as she drifts off. She’s solid in your arms – sturdier than her sister ever was at her age.
Or, as her uncle Tommy said, the first time he held her: She weighs a goddamn ton, don’t she?
She weighs nothing to you. Your arms were made for cradling her. Hips were designed to hold her. She’s the perfect size to fit in the crook of her dad’s arm. Her favorite game is being tossed in the air by him until she throws up.
“Ah-ah, Duck. Not right now,” Joel says, shaking his head. “Wait ‘til we’re done, or she’ll just beg.”
Sarah huffs, lifting her fork from the dog’s mouth. “Sorry, Shim.”
The shepherd trots around to Joel’s side, settling her chin on his thigh. She breathes a pleading sigh.
“I know, girl,” he ruffles her ears, “I ain’t fair to ya, am I?”
She falls to a heap under the table, and spends the meal pouncing at scraps Sarah accidentally drops.
The sky drains, the world darkening until you’re lit in shades of orange and gold; the candles flickering and stretching funny shadows across the porch ceiling.
Joel bribes Sarah with staying up later, so long as she helps him clear the table. She babbles away as they fill the sink with dishes; follows at his heels and catches him up on the politics of second grade.
He leans down to take Ellie – sound asleep and snoring – from you.
“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you.”
“Love you too,” he says, and kisses you. “C’mon, Duckie,” he groans as she climbs into his other arm. “Bedtime.”
Upstairs, you split off into the girls’ rooms. Shimmer follows you into Sarah’s, curling up at her feet in a nest of pink blankets.
Your firstborn is already tucked under her covers, her nightlight spinning hazy stars around the walls.
“How much do I love you?” you whisper, stroking her hair.
Sarah takes a few seconds to answer, sleep already overcoming her. “More…more ‘n the…” she yawns, “…more ‘n the whole world, Mama…”
“The whole world,” you repeat, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “Sweet dreams, little Duckie.”
Joel meets you in the hallway. He holds the baby monitor up. The screen lights; the fuzzy outline of your baby in her cot. Arms outstretched, above her head; fists balled and a determined frown on her face as she snoozes.
“Like a log,” Joel mutters, nudging you over to the stairs. “’nother thing she got from her mom.”
You smile – a loose, sleepy thing. “’s my girl.”
He follows you downstairs.
The reflections of the candles glint from each photo frame on the wall, lighting them one by one as you pass. First birthdays, first Christmases. Sarah perched atop a pony in Jackson; Joel in a suit holding Ellie, seconds before she spat milk down his tie.
Each one a tiny thread, linking you from who you were to who you are now. Stringing you together, binding the wound you never knew how to tend to.
At the bottom of the stairs, you feel a tug from your back pocket.
“Joel –” you giggle, stumbling into his arms. “We got dishes to – Joel –”
“Come on,” he whispers against your lips, stealing soft kisses. “It’s a nice night, let’s just sit for a while.”
He leads you out front and rocks back on the swing. He sets the monitor down at his feet and opens his arms. A goofy smile on his face, eyes twinkling.
You fold your arms. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“I know. But I love you.”
Your breath catches, the way it always does. Almost seven years, two kids and a fucking joint mortgage – and it still catches you off guard when you remember.
He loves you. He always did.
“That’s what makes you the idiot,” you reply, stepping forward. You slip into his lap, knees either side of his hips, and link your arms around his neck. “Fell in love with your nemesis.”
“Hm.” Joel’s arms scoop around your butt. “All that time, I thought we were friends.”
You laugh, leaning in to him. “We were never friends,” you say, “I never wanted to be just your friend.”
His chest rumbles beneath yours. He presses more kisses into your neck, kneading your waist. He takes your jaw, pulling back to look at you.
This man, and the silver through his beard, and the marks on his careful hands. This man, who never looked surer of himself – never looked more like the gleeful kid you once spotted in a photo frame – than when he has one daughter in one arm and the other slung over his back.
This man, who once built you a closet in exchange for a fake date. Who, drunk on liquor and something more, followed you back to your hotel room and changed you forever.
Made you his, forever.
You forget what it ever felt like to be anything else.
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anna-scribbles · 25 days
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thirteen update ☀️🥀🪰🏚️
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chapter 6: march
summary:
(“Be here. For Adrien.”  “Emilie, I can’t…” “For me, then. Love him for my sake.”)  A sob cracked open Adrien’s chest. He ripped away from the wall, clapping a hand over his mouth to try and stifle himself. His lungs wheezed, a crumpled can, and the world slipped off its axis. She was dying. She was dying. She was dying, for real, and soon, and this was what they hadn’t wanted to tell him. 
excerpt:
Time barrelled on after that, like a ground speeding toward him in freefall. 
Lessons slipped through his head and smiles stretched over his mouth and Adrien’s life became, more than ever before, defined by the moment he would next see Maman. It was like his brain couldn’t catch hold of anything else, couldn’t grasp it. Even when he was out doing other things, in other places, he wasn’t really. He was always back with her.  
The shift happened sometime in the beginning of March.
A change in the air, the bones. The house held its breath. Walls stood cleaner and quieter and bigger than before. Or maybe Adrien just got smaller. Maybe it was like a vacuum, like he’d learned about in physics. All the air sucked out of his lungs, crumpled up like a can. 
The silence was the worst. When Adrien was gone, he could lose himself a little. Turn his brain off at photoshoots and fall into the monotony of fabric on his body, skin on his face, hands all over, fixing him and fixing him and fixing him. Dissolve into the rhythm of fencing, blocking and thrusting and parrying and sweating and not thinking not thinking not thinking. But being inside the house was different. He couldn’t do anything but think, couldn’t be anyone but himself. Even his shows started to fall flat; Adrien found himself restarting the same Ouran episode ten times because he hadn’t absorbed a thing. The house was so quiet, his brain so loud. The world was transparent and he wasn’t quite sure he was real. 
And then he would see Maman. 
read on ao3
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daily-basil · 1 month
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Otomerson's Pursuit AU is one of the most well-written, dark and emotional fics I've ever read. It doesn't center around Basil but like the rest of the cast his brain is absolutely fascinating to pick apart,,,
anyways. Here he is
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sunnie-writes · 21 days
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is loving as good as they say?
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pairing: wally darling x reader
tags: romantic fluff, love confessions, reader is a hopeless romantic !!
plot: a hopeless romantic all your life, you dreamed about the love you saw in movies and series, the type you would read in books that left you kicking your feet and giggling. cupid never seemed to be by your side, everyone who you fell in love with ended up not liking you back, so of course you were scared of another heartbreak when you moved to a new neighborhood and ended up falling for your newest neighbor, wally darling. although, it seemed that cupid didn't miss this time.
talk that talk, sunnie !!: so, this has been rotting in my google docs for almost a year already, so i thought i should post it already!! i hope you guys enjoy it, and you're more than welcome to read my other wally fics. thank you, and let's get to it!!
this fic is also available on ao3, you can click here to find it!!
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A hopeless romantic, that's what you could call yourself.
You crave the love you would see on TV, those movies and series about romance had a grip on you that no one could explain, and don't get me started on the books. Even while being that amazed by the concept of being loved and cared by someone who you felt the same with, Cupid seemed to always miss his arrows.
Unrequited love was painful, you learned that the hard way. In your high school, you would watch all the high school sweethearts make their ways to classes while holding hands or eating lunch playfully with all the romantic atmosphere that came with it. What was the word you felt? Ah, that's right, you envied them.
Moving away from your town was both a relief and a scare, you would now be open to meeting new people, watching them enter your life. You hoped that they would stay.
And that's how you ended up here, in the lovely and colorful neighborhood that was Welcome Home. The name seemed silly, but you quickly learned that it was because of all the friendly behavior that those who lived there seemed to have. So friendly that they're always welcoming everyone.
All of the stars know that you would be lying if you said you weren't nervous. You never dealt good with talking to new people, you hoped that they could be friendly enough to start introductions first. Even if you were repeating how to introduce yourself like a mantra in your head, you were anxious about meeting so many people in just a day.
"Oooh! Are you the new neighbor?!" And that was your cue to use up all your social skills.
"Uh- yes?" You turned around to see who screamed, eyes meeting with a puppet girl with long blonde hair, and were those candy corn horns?
"Welcome Home! I was so excited to meet you! What is your name? What do you like?" She jumped up and down while popping multiple questions.
"I'm Y/N L/N, nice to meet you." You smiled, she's like a puppy. "I like reading and... animals, and I would love to be your friend!" There was no need to reveal your secret interest yet.
"That's amazing! You remind me of Frank, he also likes reading and animals! Well, specifically, flutterbies!" She spoke rapidly.
"Julie for the last time, they're called butterflies!" You looked to the side, seeing a gray man coming your way. "Oh, hello, I'm Frank."
You settled for waving at him. Julie, noticing your behavior, told him your name and interests. You're starting to think that Julie was sent from the angels as a way to help you enter this community.Then, you were pulled away from your thoughts as more puppet people started to gather in front of you.
"Oh my, the new neighbor has arrived already?" A girl with a sun head happily said. "My name is Sally Starlet, and you?"
"I'm Y/N L/N... nice to meet you!" You gave your best friendly smile.
Everyone introduced themselves to you, all colorful and adorable. Poppy was a pretty chicken who turned out to be an immediate mother figure to you, we also have Barnaby who is a big blue dog with a chill, kinda laid back personality that made you comfortable with his presence. Eddie Dear was the mailman, who Julie alerted you to not catch feelings for since Frank already had his eyes on him, and Howdy was a sweet man who owned the local market.
Judging by the numbers of houses, only one neighbor was missing. You pondered on how the last person could possibly be like, smiling at the idea of them being just as friendly as everyone in this colorful place that had you looking around nonstop.
"Ah, I see… am I late?" Someone spoke up, you turned around to finally meet your last neighbor.
And at that moment, you knew you were in trouble. He was absurdly pretty, with a blue pompadour and yellow skin, along with colorful clothing and eyes that pierced your soul and sent chills all over your senses. You felt your cheeks burn up, Cupid did it again and you weren't sure on how to stop staring at him.
"Woooow Wally, being late to meet our newest neighbor? How dare you!" Barnaby playfully dramatically gasped.
"I apologize, let me introduce myself." He went in your direction, standing right in front of you, who was currently almost out of breath. "I'm Wally Darling, the artist of the town, it's a pleasure to meet you…?"
"Y/N, Y/N L/N." Your voice almost cracked for a second, making your cheeks heat up even more. "Nice to meet you too…"
"How adorable, surely you're a great addition to our lovely neighborhood." He picked up your hand, giving a kiss on the back of your palm.
Stuttering, you thanked him for the compliment while trying your best to not fall on your knees. Julie came into the scene again and began telling Wally your tastes, he listened carefully while nodding and looking at you with a relaxed smile.
Eventually, everyone began slowly saying their goodbyes and going to their homes or jobs. You waved as Julie was the last one to leave and entered your house, closing the door behind you and holding your heart. It was racing, and you were well acquaintanced with the feeling.
Well, you failed, love followed your way again.
And now, what to do? You couldn't lie to yourself but it was hard to face the truth. It seemed too early for falling in love, you can just call it a crush and try to get over it, maybe this time it'll work! 
Yeah, just give it some time and it'll pass, you were sure of it!
— 
So, it didn't work.
That was obviously going to happen, and now you had your head in your hands while you walked around your house. On your bed, a pretty bouquet with your favorite color layed prettily there. Wally gave it to you, as a way to celebrate "your first week in the neighborhood", how sweet!
Your heart kept beating faster and faster each time you thought about the way he showed up on your doorstep, with his smug smile and bouquet in hands. He looked so innocent as your insides felt like melting from all the sweetness that gesture had.
And before you could control your feelings, you were already catching yourself humming to cheesy love songs and even singing them while cleaning the house. The radio echoed around your house, romantic tunes that you requested on the telephone to play there were all over the place.
Your once retired love books were now scattered across the floor as you giggled by imagining the scenarios with Wally. You didn't try to make a move and ask him out, your heart already had many bruises from past love delusions, and you really didn't feel like piling up another one for your heartbreak wonderland.
Instead, you just tried to become his friend while also trying to get your feelings to go away. That was, obviously, not a good idea, how could you try to stop falling for someone who you interact with everyday?
Before you could think properly on a better plan, a month had gone by. You still had your late night scenarios to giggle about, along with your hopeless romantic dreaming that pulled you into a cycle of trying to stop loving Wally Darling and learning how to love him all over again because of your weak heart.
Curse the Cupid, curse him and all of his pinkish love arrows who never found your way before. Of course you would be giving up on the first month, he never gave you what you wanted before, what could possibly make you think that now it would all go the right way?
Stupid, selfish Cupid.
Three months had passed, and you could say you were tired of waiting for the feelings to suddenly disappear.
You played with a doll's hand, carefully moving the antique treasure in your arms. Currently, you were at Julie's house, who was the only person who was aware of your huge crush on Wally. She giggled as she asked you questions of all the time you and "lover boy" had passed together.
"He just wanted to paint with someone, it's not like he wanted to paint alone with just me and nobody else!" You blushed while looking at the ground.
"I don't know, he never really let me or the other neighbors touch his painting supplies." Julie then whispered in a teasing manner, "Maybe he thinks of you as special, in a like-like way!"
You lowered your head while choking on your water, feelings all over the place. If there was something that Julie liked to do, it was to tease relentlessly. After you calmed down, you both started to ask each other random questions to pass the time.
"Now, as a hopeless romantic, what is your ideal date?" She questioned, looking happy as ever in your direction.
"Hmm, stargazing seems like a great date, picnics look a lot of fun too!" You bashfully chuckled. "Oh, a picnic on a sunset, that turns into a stargazing session! With sweet apple pies and cake, along with refreshing drinks!"
"Ooh, tell me more!" Julie smiled.
"Okay, then a cold wind blows and suddenly I shiver, then Wally puts his cardigan on me and hugs me closer!" You could easily feel your cheeks heating up just from your imagination.
And that earned a screech from Julie.
“Ugh, how are your scenarios always the best?!” 
“It’s the prize I get for being a dreamer.” You chuckled lightly.
Today was a special day in the neighborhood.
Apparently, everyone was going to the nearest lake, which is gigantic, you can say, and pop up some balloons and light up some fireworks because it was the neighborhood’s anniversary! 
You were currently trying to pick your best outfit, and that was because Wally was going to pick you up since you didn’t know the way to the lake. At least that’s what you told yourself so you wouldn’t freak out at the scenario. Seriously, that sounded like a romantic comedy.
After a while, you ended up settling for one of your favorite outfits, one that had stars on them. Then, a knock on the door was heard. You quickly put on your shoes and ran to open it, coming face to face to an adorable Wally, looking at you while holding a bouquet of red tulips and some amaranth.
“There we go, a bouquet of beautiful flowers for an even prettier one.” 
“Oh! Wally, you shouldn’t…” You blushed and took the flowers.
“Nonsense, you deserve only the best!” He chuckled raspily.
You giggled as he gave you his hand, pleading eyes for you to walk with him. You two started walking while holding hands in the direction of the lake, talking about everything that was going on in the neighborhood. It was a nice atmosphere, comfortable enough, and dare you say, romantic.
As you arrived there, Wally smiled and kissed the back of your hand before going to talk to a knowing Barnaby, who stared at you with a big smile and wiggling his eyebrows. Julie, who saw all of that, pulled you towards her and Frank immediately.
"Oh. My. Stars! What was that? Is that a bouquet? Are you two going on a date?" She excitedly spoke while flapping her hands.
"Julie, calm down. Pretty sure she is malfunctioning." Frank told the girl by his side. "But yeah, what exactly happened there?"
"I don't know, and I'm freaking out about it!" You giggled while holding the bouquet close to you, smiling.
"That was absurdly romantic, I think he is head over heels for you!" Julie exclaimed while whispering. "Besides, look at these flowers, they are so pretty!"
"They also have an exquisite meaning, you know?" Frank randomly spoke, dropping the fact like it was nothing.
You proceeded to hint at him to keep going.
"Amaranths mean eternal love, red tulips mean true love." Frank looked at you while raising his eyebrows. "That is literally a confession."
Julie, who was holding her energy back, gave a screech and started shaking your arm. Meanwhile, you had just bluescreened. Your cheeks heated up, and you felt your heartbeat increase rapidly, like it was trying to burst out your ribcage in a desperate manner. At that point, you were checking if you still even had some pulse.
Suddenly, someone started ringing a bell, and so, everyone looked to the front, seeing Poppy there. She smiled before starting to explain that there was food on the foldable table, fireworks and water guns, everything for fun. Poppy then started handing out glasses with juice to everyone before raising a toast for the neighborhood's birthday.
After that, all of you started talking to each other. You looked around, smiling when you saw Eddie talking to Frank, who was trying his best to cover up a blush while Julie looked at him with a knowing smile from across the field, Sally was braiding some of her long hair. Poppy and Howdy were discussing random things while Barnaby just laid down at the picnic blanket and stared at the stars.
And there, from across the room, your eyes met his. Something electrical went through your body, and you could swear you felt your world stop. Suddenly, there were no more friendly neighbors around you, the festivities and candy long forgotten in your mind. No, none of that mattered anymore, did it?
It was just you and him, across a field as he slowly made his way towards you.
Wait.
You were too late to process it, he's already in front of you.
"So, dearest, how are you enjoying the party?" Wally asked, igniting a fire in your belly to light up the butterflies who panicked and fluttered along you.
"Good, I- I think everyone is having fun, what about you?" You responded, trying your best to hide your reaction with the nickname.
“I could say I am.” He looks at you, up and down, down and up. And it sets your skin ablaze.
Icarus wasn’t able to resist the beauty that was the Sun to him, and maybe you wouldn’t survive the flirt that was Wally Darling. Every single thing he does sets you on fire, butterflies infest your stomach, it’s magical and so cheesy, all at the same time.
“Come with me, I wanna show you something.” His honey-laced words get to you, and you comply with a nod.
He holds your hand, and starts going into the trees, between all those primary colored leaves. You can feel your heartbeat increasing, all your muscles about to give up, it’s like dying but not exactly that, living in ecstasy, better than any drug.
You two stop at Swan Lake, where the stars reflect on the water and the feathered bEINGS float elegantly. Your eyes shine as you see them doing their little synchronized dance, until you notice that they end up doing a heart. You sigh, real romantic.
“Darling, could you look at me, please?”
You turn to see Wally, on one knee, his hand holding yours. You might start crying.
“You see, Y/N, ever since the day I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. With your smile, your way of expressing yourself, I knew you were gonna steal my heart, and I knew that I would never have it back. I’ve heard stories in the past about soulmates, loved ones made for you, and I didn’t believe any of that, before I met you. I’m an artist, not a poet, but you make me inspired dear, to dedicate you the most beautiful forms of art out there, paint and frame your face, have millions of words dedicating my love to you, and that still wouldn’t be enough for you to understand how much I desire you. I want to see your resting face every morning, I want to hold you in my arms and sleep for eternity, I want to grow every day by your side. Would you do me the owner, Dearest, and accept my confession? To finally be mine and let me be yours?”
You, unable to hold the feeling, giddily jumped around before throwing yourself on him, both of you falling on the ground. You cried tears of joy as you said yes a million times, while he patted your back and chuckled, kissing your forehead.
“You know,” Frank started with crossed arms while looking at you and Wally, happily holding hands while sitting on the picnic blanket, “One could say that you two were perfect for each other.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Julie exclaimed, happy that you and your Darling were together, finally together.
“Ha ha ha, oh well, I knew they were the one for me since day one.” Wally answered, pulling you into another sweet and quick kiss, making you squeak.
“Ugh, don’t leave the picnic all sappy with your love.” Frank rolled his eyes at the sight.
“Don’t be jealous Frank, everyone knows you want to live that with Ed-” He covered Julie’s mouth before she could say anything else.”
“... Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I feel like I just won the lottery.” You proudly stated.
“Oh, they grow up so fast…” Poppy hiccuped for what seemed to be the eleventh time, being real emotional with your fresh new relationship.
“There there, Poppy.” Howdy patted her in the back.
“I’m really happy for you guys!” Said Eddie while sitting down next to Frank.
You smiled at him while Wally thanked the mailman. You grabbed yourself a piece of lemon pie to eat.
“Sooo, when’s the wedding?” Barnaby jokes.
And you proceeded to choke on your lemon pie.
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fic-over-cannon · 5 months
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Jason Todd will cockblock himself if he thinks you can’t give 100% informed consent.
A few too many drinks at a gala and you’re drunkenly trying to make out with your gorgeous boyfriend. He’ll stop kissing you once he can taste the champagne on your lips, notices the glassy sheen to your eyes. Jason folds your roaming hands back into your lap and makes you promise to be good. He’ll take you home early and get some water into you before tucking you into bed. He’ll go so far as to sleep on the couch, door open to the bedroom so he can hear if you need him.
Jason remembers what Catherine looked like, coming off of a high and not remembering what day it was. The fear in her eyes and the shake in her voice when she asked if anyone else had been in the apartment.
Jason remembers the early days after the pit. When he’d wake up after blacking out in rage and not remember what his body had done. Seeing the blood on his skin and not knowing where it came from.
Jason never wants you to wake up with that same fearful not knowing. So he’ll sleep on the couch and make sure you’re safe. In the morning he’ll cook you breakfast and kiss you silly. But you’re going to have a talk, the two of you, once you’re sober enough to have a real conversation. Establish boundaries and plan consent for if you do want to fool around if one of you is impaired, or how you want to handle it if you don’t. But it’s not tomorrow yet, and Jason’s tired. He can sleep soundly though, knowing that nothing’s going to happen to you.
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solarisstyles · 8 months
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AT THE COUNTRY CLUB
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Pairing: Golfer!Harry Styles x BarCart!F!Reader Word Count: 3.6k+ Warnings: fluff, teasing, public sex, protected sex(wrap it before you tap it!), smut, mentions of drinking and alcohol, 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: Harry likes to golf and you. A/N: none!
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Out of all the jobs you’ve had, working as a bar cart girl at a high class country club was probably your favorite. All you did was drive around the course all day and sell old men alcohol. The tips were amazing despite the occasional creep you’d run into. Smoothing out your golf skirt and shirt in the locker room, you made your way out to the cart house to get the golf cart you’d use for the day. Checking over everything to make sure you were well stocked up, you began your rounds on the course.
“Good morning Mr.Anderson!” you called out to one of your weekly regulars. “You’re my first stop today. Can I get you anything?” you asked. 
Looking up from his golf clubs, he beamed at you, “Ah, good morning dear! I’ll take some water for now. Catch me in a few holes and I might be ready for some liquor.”. 
“Coming right up.” you said, stepping out of your seat and going to your cooler to grab a bottle of water. “Would you like it in a cup with ice or just a bottle?”
“A cup with ice please.” he politely said, approaching you and handing you some cash “There’s a tip in there as well.”. He was always looking out for you on the course so you genuinely appreciated his kindness, 
“You know you don’t have to tip me for water.” you playfully scolded him, taking the money and tucking it away in the fanny pack you wore around your waist. 
“I know. But you’re my favorite cart girl so I’m gonna take care of you.”, taking the cup from your hand, he held it up to you and smiled, “See you in a little while kid.”. Shaking your head with a smile of your own you got back in the cart and continued your way around the course. It was early so you didn’t get a lot of hits the first time around. The second time you made your rounds however, it was after lunch time and a lot busier.
Pulling up to some carts, you recognized the club bag as another regular of yours. You noticed he had a guest with him today which was always a nice surprise. “Hey Carter!” you called to him as he was picking out his club, giving him a flirty wave. 
Looking up to see who called him, his eyes found you and smirked, “Hey yourself.” he replied, walking over to you. 
“Can I get you and your friend anything?” you asked. 
“I’ll have my usual.”, “Hey Harry! Do you want anything from the bar cart?” he called to his friend who’d just teed off. 
You couldn’t help but admire him as he walked over to the two of you. You were thankful for your sunglasses or it would be painfully obvious that you were undressing him with your eyes. His tall, lean, but muscular build was exactly your type.
Harry was drinking in the sight of you just the same. Thankful for his own pair of sunglasses, he just hoped his attraction was obvious….elsewhere. “What does the lady suggest?” he asked you, a soft smirk on his face. 
“Our vodka sodas are the most popular drink I sell.” you informed him, standing from your seat to start making Carter’s drink for him while Harry decides on his own. 
Harry nodded thoughtfully at the suggestion, “What flavors do you have?” he asked. 
“Pineapple, Grapefruit, Black Cherry, and Watermelon.”
“Which one is your favorite?” he then asked, catching you off guard. 
You didn’t typically have men so invested in their drink orders. “Pineapple or Watermelon.” you replied, handing Carter his drink. 
“I’ll try the Watermelon then.” he decided. 
Reaching for the drink in your cooler, you popped open the can for him and handed it to him. “Anything else gentlemen?” you asked, looking between the two of them. Carter and Harry looked at each other, having a silent conversation. 
“I think we’re good for now.” Carter said, pulling out his wallet and handing you his card, “Start a tab for me and put Harry’s drink on it.”. Taking his card and swiping it though your mobile card reader, you set up his tab, adding on the two drinks by his request. 
“All set up.” you said, handing his card back to him with a smile. “Enjoy your time out here. Maybe I’ll catch you guys again later.”. 
“I sure hope so.” Harry said, smirking at your now flushed cheeks. 
You couldn’t help but giggle, “It was lovely meeting you Harry. Have Carter bring you around more.” you teased, getting back into your cart. 
“Only if you let me try the Pineapple flavor next time.” he teased you. 
“I’ll make sure to have some just for you.” you teased back, blowing him a kiss as you drove away.
You sadly didn’t get to see Carter and Harry again that day. But as you walked through the bar room of the club house, the house bartender called out to you, “This was left here for you.” he said with a smirk on his face. Taking the wad of twenties from him, you opened it to see a small piece of paper with a phone number on it, and Harry’s name scribbled beneath it. Rolling your eyes, you thanked the bartender and went to clock out for the evening. You thought about the phone number the whole way home, wondering if you should actually text him. You’ve never reciprocated anyone’s advancements towards you at the club house. But damn, was he fine. Collecting yourself you decided to play the long haul and not think with your imaginary dick. If he comes back again, you’ll consider giving it a try. You had to make him work for it somehow.
A week later, you were working inside at the actual bar instead of running the cart like normal. When you saw Carter walk in, you were excited, hoping to see Harry in tow. Your disappointment must have been evident on your face though when you realized he was there on his own. 
“Damn don’t look too excited.” he said, sitting in front of you on a bar stool, crossing his arms. 
You looked down bashfully, “Sorry Carter. I am excited to see you, I promise.” you apologized, looking up at him and batting your lashes. 
He laughed, “You’re full of shit.” he called out, making you laugh with him, a soft blush dusting your cheeks. 
“Your usual?” you assumed, already moving to make his drink. 
“You know it.” he said, leaning against the bar. He watched as you made his drink, your body working on autopilot as you mixed the liquors together with the mixer and set it in front of him, 
“Running a tab today?” you asked. 
“No, I actually stopped by to play matchmaker.” he said, sliding some cash over to you and taking a sip of his drink. 
Taking the cash over to the drawer, you looked back at him and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “With who?” you asked curiously, as you brought back his change. 
“Keep it.” he waved your hand away. “And to answer your question, it’s you and Harry.” he smugly said, making you stop in your tracks and stare him down. 
“What?” you asked, trying to play dumb. 
He rolled his eyes, “Oh come on! A blind man could see the chemistry between the two of you last week.” he exclaimed, gesturing his hands outward in an ‘it’s so obvious’ motion. 
“Yeah? Then where is he today?” you countered, putting your hand on your hip. 
“With his bandmates in the studio.” he informed you, raising an eyebrow at you as if daring you to challenge him. 
“Oh…” you mumbled, unsure what to say next. 
“Listen, I know you get plenty of offers from men here but Harry is a genuinely good guy. Give him a chance.” he pleaded. 
“Did he put you up to this?” you questioned, feeling suspicious. 
“Not at all. He doesn’t even know I came to talk to you.” Carter assured you. 
“He did leave me his number at the bar last week. I guess if you’re so sure about this I’ll text him.” you caved, feeling weak under the peer pressure of what you were fighting so hard to avoid. 
“Really?” he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful looking. 
“Yes, and ONLY because I’ve known you for years now and I trust your judgment.” you clarified.
Staying true to your word, you sent Harry a text later that night after your shift. You were glad he took it so well that you waited a week to text him. Texts quickly turned into facetime calls and daily good morning texts. It truly floored you how easy Harry was to talk to. It was truly effortless on both sides. The more you both talked and the more comfortable you got with one another, the more you both would start to flirt with each other. 
“So, when am I going to see you again?” you asked one night as you facetimed each other. 
“You miss me or something?” he playfully asked, smirking at you through the phone screen. 
You bit your lip, admiring his exposed biceps, the tank top he wore leaving little to the imagination and it drove you wild. “Maybe.” you answered, making him smirk. 
“I was planning on coming with Carter this weekend to the club house. Are you working then?” he asked. 
You felt your excitement peak some at the prospect of seeing him again, “Yes, I am actually. I’ll be running the cart like normal.” you said with a bright smile. 
He smiled back at you, flicking off the light to his bedroom and flopping down onto this bed, “Good, I expect the best of the best service then.” he playfully said. 
You giggled softly, “I’ll drive right past you don’t tempt me.” The challenging but teasing undertone of your voice had him laughing too. 
“I’ll leave a Yelp review,” he decided to challenge you back. 
You gasped, holding your hand over your chest dramatically, “Not the yelp review! What do I have to do to make it up to you?”
“A kiss would make up for it.” he boldly suggested. 
You raised an eyebrow at him, “I think I could manage that.” you both smile bashfully at each other. So far the conversation has been kept innocent between the two of you. Now it was turned up to another level and it made your heart race with anticipation.
The following days leading up to you seeing Harry again, the sexual tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife. Your replies to his innocent good morning texts were now photos of you posed suggestively in front of your mirror in your work outfit. The day he was meant to come to the course, you wore his favorite outfit, it was blue and the top was a little extra tight on you. It was guaranteed to drive him crazy and the thought of teasing him excited you. 
Harry had texted you and let you know that he wouldn’t be there till later in the afternoon, so the morning felt like it was dragging. 
You were on your fourth round around the course when you finally saw Harry and Carter. “About time y’all showed up!” you called out to them.
Harry beamed a bright smile at you, jogging up to you to pick you up and spin you around, making you squeal out a laugh. 
Once he steadied you on your feet you smiled up at him, “What can I get you to drink?” you asked. 
“Are you on the menu?” Harry flirted, his hands rubbing your sides softly. Your outfit choice was clearly having the desired effect on him, making you mentally high five yourself. 
“Not while I’m on the clock.” you winked, swatting at his chest playfully. 
He smirked, “I’ll try that Pineapple Vodka Soda then.” letting you go to get his drink. 
Carter stood back and watched the two of you fondly, “I’m right here you know.” he said. 
“I’m aware.” you teased, handing Harry his opened drink. “Would you like anything dear?” you teased, batting your lashes playfully. 
Carter rolled his eyes, handing you some cash, “Get me my usual you twat.”. 
You laughed, taking the money and putting it in your pouch before making his drink. “You guys gonna hang out for a while? I get off at five and I can join you at the bar.”
“I won’t, but Mr.Styles here will.” Carter teased, punching Harry in the arm. 
Harry rolled his eyes, “Yeah I’ll hang out.” he smiled at you. 
“Cool, see you then.” you said, giving them a small wave before continuing your drive around the course.
There were more golfers than normal out on the course this afternoon, and any other day you would be thankful since you were getting great tips. The burning desire to be back with Harry was making you antsy though. When you finally made it back to the clubhouse, you parked your cart and sighed, resting your head on the steering wheel for a moment. You loved your job but it could really be draining sometimes. 
Taking a deep breath, you got up and started to break down the cart, taking the extra drinks and liquor into the walk-in fridge behind the bar. Looking up at the clock in the back area, you were thrilled to see you only had five minutes left before you clocked out for the day. 
Making your way over to the locker rooms, you gathered your stuff and clocked out on the computer. Heading over to the bar where you would find Harry. He was exactly where you thought he would be, in one of the lounge chairs by the giant fireplace. Biting back the giddy smile you wanted to show, you admired how handsome he looked sitting there with a glass of whiskey in his left hand. Making your way over to him, your eyes admired the sharp outline of his jaw, the shape of his nose, his long lashes fanning against his cheeks as he blinked. He looked like a Greek God. “This seat taken?” you teasingly asked him, in reference to his lap. 
He chuckled, uncrossing his legs as a silent invite, “I reserved it just for you.” he said back, matching your flirty energy. 
A soft blush dusted your cheeks, sitting gently on his lap, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. 
“So, did you like the drink earlier?” you asked him. 
He nodded, taking another sip of his whiskey, “I thought it was delicious. It’s perfect for being out on the course.” His praise made your heart flutter. Knowing he was pleased with your suggestion made you want to please him even more. 
His fingers slowly dragged up and down your side, “Did you wear this just for me today? I remember telling you it was one of my favorites.” His eyes raked up and down your body, admiring the way your skirt rose up to reveal more of your thighs when you sat down, your tits pressed together more in your sitting position causing more of your cleavage to show thanks to the low cut of the top. 
“Maybe.” you suggested, winking at him. 
“You’re a tease. You know that?” he called you out, looking back up into your eyes. 
You couldn’t help but giggle, leaning closer to him, “I don’t think you mind though.” you whispered, wiggling your hips down into his crotch, which was slowly stiffening beneath you. “In fact I think you like it.” you in turn called him out. Looking back into his eyes, you watched in satisfaction as his eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” you teased, his silence loudly telling you the effect you had on him.
Setting down his drink on a side table, his hand found its place on your thigh, rubbing it softly. He smirked at your remark, shaking his head a little. “Just thinking about how the bar tender over there would love to have me bend your over this chair and fuck you in front of him.” he softly spoke, making your breathing stop for a second. 
You could suddenly feel the burning stare of another set of eyes, so caught up in Harry that you didn’t even notice. 
“Lucky for you, I don’t like to share. So, why don’t we go somewhere more private.” he suggested. 
You were all too eager to oblige, giving him a small nod and standing from his lap, offering your hand out to him. Taking your hand in his own, he stood up and let you lead him out of the bar, much to the disappointment of your co-worker.
You walked to the far side of the clubhouse you knew people were less likely to be at this time of the day, pushing open the door to one of the family restrooms, you pulled Harry inside with you, closing and locking the door quickly. 
Just as fast, Harry spun you around and pressed you back against the door, holding your waist tightly. He pressed his forehead to yours, bumping his nose against your own. You could feel the warm breath from his lips against your own, driving you crazy. 
“Kiss me.” you said with a desperate feel behind the request, almost whining into his mouth. 
It was the green light he needed to go forward. Pressing his lips softly to your own at first, the kisses that followed growing more heated and desperate. His hands slid down your waist, around to your ass, groping you through your skirt. Your jaw went slack, moaning softly. Taking that as his opportunity to lick into your mouth, coaxing your tongue to lick into his own. You were enjoying this silent battle for dominance but you could slowly feel yourself losing. Your body becoming putty in his strong hands. 
He bent down slightly, grasping your thighs and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist on instinct, he carried you over to the sink, sitting you down on the counter. Pulling away from your lips briefly, he had to ask, “How far do you want this to go?” praying you were both on the same page. 
Smirking, you reached within your shirt and pulled out a square foil packet. He couldn’t contain his laughter, pressing his lips to yours once more and taking the condom from you. 
Clothes were quickly discarded, both of you far too worked up to bother with any more foreplay. Both of you knew this would have to be quicker than you’d really like it to be out of fear of somebody catching you. The thought of being caught made it much more exciting though.
Tearing open the condom with his teeth, Harry was a man on a mission, rolling the rubber onto his hard cock. Pulling your hips to the edge of the counter, he positioned himself, gliding the tip of his cock between your wet folds. “Who got you this wet baby girl?” he teased, admiring the way his cock was lubricated even more with your arousal. 
“Fuck, you Harry.” you whimpered, your eyes fluttering at the sensation. 
Satisfied with your reply, he gently thrusted into you, making you gasp out and groan softly. His face fell into the crook of your neck, setting a gentle pace thrusting in and out of you, “Fuck you feel so good wrapped around my cock.” he breathed out, kissing your neck, up to your jaw till he eventually found your lips against his own again. 
Moaning softly into the kiss, along with softly whimpering for him, his pace quickened. Reaching between your bodies, your fingers rubbed quickly against your clit, pushing you closer to your peak. “Don’t stop Harry please!” you begged in a hushed whisper against his lips. 
“Mmm I won’t baby. Gonna make that pretty pussy cum for me if it’s the last. Thing. I. Do.” he thrusted deep into you to enunciate the last four words he spoke. 
You gasped, throwing your head back and biting your lip to desperately try and stay quiet. 
His lips once again kissed at your neck, trailing wet kisses down to your chest and sucking on your tits. Taking your nipple into his warm wet mouth, his tongue dancing in circles around your hardened nub.
Your chest was heaving, dangerously close to cumming. He could feel it with the way your pussy contracted round him, squeezing his cock tightly each time he thrusted deep into you. His hips slapping against your own each time he bottomed out inside of you. He grunted against your hot skin, “I’m so close baby.” he panted, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy. “Cum on my cock. Please baby girl.” he begged, wanting so bad to watch you come undone under his touch. 
“Oh, fuck Harry!” you gasped, a particularly sharp thrust into your g-spot sent you spiraling. You fought hard to control the volume of your moans as he fucked you through your orgasm. Finding it hard to not scream out his name. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” he grunted, the pulsing of your pussy as you orgasmed coaxed him to his own. Spilling into the condom, letting you milk him dry as you contracted around him.
Your hand rested on the back of his head as he laid it against your neck. The both of you had love sick smiles on your faces as you battled to catch your breaths, coming down from the high you both were feeling. “Round two at my place?” you offered, making him laugh,
“I like the sound of that.”
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nerdy-arty · 9 months
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Tender moments 🩷
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ghostfacd · 9 months
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the sun to my moon. QH43
au masterlist
warnings: mention of underage drinking + peer pressuring, cursing, a tiny tiny hint of angst, not proofread so there might be mistakes, someone’s mean to sunny </3
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It wasn’t a shocker that Quinn Hughes was a very grumpy person. He was fairly quiet, eyes calculating as they scan every corner of the room.
If you didn’t know him well, you’d probably think Quinn was just plain mean. He wasn’t, or maybe, not that mean, he just didn’t like talking to people—or people at all, for the matter.
It was pretty cold that December in New Jersey, but the lake house was warm and the waters were a fairly nice dark blue. He had gone home to visit his parents, as well as Jack and Luke. It was nice to be back in America, a change from Vancouver.
“Hi Quinn sweetie!” Ellen greets her son happily, engulfing him in a hug that he returns with a small smile. He had only really smiled to his mom, appreciating her constant support and encouragement. “Oh! Jack brought home his girlfriend! You should meet her,”
Quinn raises his eyebrows at this, never hearing Jack mention a girlfriend in any of their family calls. Was the boy finally settling down?
He walked into the living room, surprised to see two brunette girls along with Jack. Brunette? Now this got Quinn’s attention. He’d always thought his brother would go for.. blondes.
“Hi! I’m Jack’s girlfriend, you must be his older brother!” The girl smiles brightly, making Quinn almost grimace. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jack has told me so much!”
“I’m sure he has,” Quinn chuckles awkwardly, shaking the hand she had extended to him earlier.
Jack smiles at his favorite people interacting with another. “This is my girl’s best friend, Sunny Damount.” He points to the other brunette girl who almost takes Quinn’s breath away.
Jesus, was she an angel in disguise?
“Sunny?” Quinn questions. He’s never met anyone named Sunny, so his voice almost sounds confused.
“I’m Y/N, but everyone just calls me Sunny because they say I remind them of a ray of sunshine!” Her face converts into the most beautiful smile Quinn’s ever seen in his life—aside from his mom—and he can’t help but feel his knees grow weak.
“Nice to meet you Sunny,” Quinn smiles, and Jack and Luke throw a glance at each other in amusement.
“Hey Q, why don’t you show her around?” Jack suggests. “I mean, you know the lake house like the back of your hand.”
Quinn rolls his eyes slightly, noticing what his brother was trying to do. “So do you and Luke.”
“Yeah but cmon Quinn! Don’t be rude to our guest!”
Quinn finally agrees, not like he didn’t want to tour the cute girl anyways. He slides open the backyard door, signaling Sunny to go out first. When Sunny’s back is turned, Quinn slides out his tongue at both Jack and Luke, to which they responded with a mischievous grin on their faces.
“So you go to Umich?” Quinn asks as he closes the sliding door. He noticed her sweater from earlier, the dark blue fabric with a M stitched to its front.
“I do!” The girl giggles, even though there’s nothing funny. If it had been anyone else, Quinn would’ve cringed internally. But he doesn’t. “I’m a junior this year, crazy how time flies.”
“Yeah, really crazy.”
The two are silent for a while, Quinn’s nervousness and overthinking causes him to just go mute while Sunny smiles at practically everything that catches her eyes.
“You’ll be staying here until Jack’s girlfriend leaves?” He questions.
“Yeah! She invited me here because she said I needed to get out the dorm more now that it’s Christmas break. I guess she’s right,”
Quinn looks down at the ground, smiling to himself. Even though he barely knew Sunny, he was glad she was staying at the lake house.
A few days pass by without much interaction from the two, Jack’s girlfriend always managing to take Sunny away before Quinn could even utter out a word. He was slightly annoyed, but he knew he couldn’t tell Jack or Luke. They’d tease them endlessly.
That night, Jack had brought home some beers, all of them, minus Luke, went outside and sat on the dock, bringing the cans out with them.
“Do you want one?” Quinn whispers to Sunny.
Jack and his girlfriend were in another world, busy cuddling up to one another and taking slow sips from their cans.
“Oh no—it’s okay. I don’t drink, I’d rather wait till I’m 21,”
Quinn had almost forgotten Sunny was only 20. It was a surprise to him that she’d actually wait that long; everybody he knew had started drinking in high school, not caring about the legal age.
“That’s alright, you can have fun while being sober too.” Quinn almost cringes at his words, but luckily, Sunny nods with a bright smile on her face.
“You really are a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” Quinn whispers.
“What was that Quinn?”
“Oh,” Quinn smiles sheepishly, not expecting Sunny to have heard him. “Nothing.”
The next weekend, Jack once again came up with another one of his crazy ideas—this one being throwing a party since Jim and Ellen were going away for a few days to stay at a fancy resort.
Quinn didn’t like social outings, in fact, he wants desperately to sneak away into his room and blast music in his airpods. But he decides to stay downstairs, sitting right next to Sunny who only has fruit punch in her cup.
“Hey, is that Sunny Damount?!” A random guy comes up to them, getting a bit too close to Sunny for Quinn’s liking. “Sunnyyyyy!”
He’s clearly drunk, and Quinn wants to rip him away from the girl.
“Have a drink Sun! It’s so good!” The guy almost spills his cup of alcohol on Sunny, making the girl’s smile falter. It was the first time Quinn didn’t see such a bright smile on her face.
“I’m okay Kyle, I don’t drink,”
The guy, who Quinn can only guess is named Kyle, gets even closer to Sunny, making her slowly back up into the kitchen island.
“You don’t drink? You’re like twenty Sunny, it’s a party. You have to drink.”
Quinn pushes Kyle slightly off Sunny, throwing the boy a glare. “Sunny says she doesn’t drink, Kyle. So why don’t you turn around and leave?”
Kyle scoffs, throwing a glare towards Quinn’s way. “Whatever, I was going to leave anyway!”
Sunny sighs in relief when she sees the boy leave. “Thank you Quinn,” she shyly mumbles.
“It’s alright Sunny,” he reassures her. “No guy should be pressuring you to drink when you clearly don’t want to.”
And by the end of the party, Quinn realizes he’s fucked.
He’s inlove with Sunny Damount.
And he’s never been inlove. Well not seriously. He has had a few girlfriends then and there, but it was silly and it surely wasn’t love.
So what does Quinn Hughes do when he’s in such a dilemma? He pivots. He does what most considers a fucked up and idiotic thing to do. He ignores her.
What better way to dig his feelings in a hole and bury them than ignoring the girl he was inlove with?
Sunny is clearly confused when Quinn gives her one worded answers, and she almost wants to cry when he barely even acknowledges her presence.
What did she do wrong? Everybody loved her, so why was Quinn ignoring her?
It didn’t make her feel any better when she went to the market and bumped into a really mean girl she knew who said some not so nice things about her.
That, along with Quinn not talking to her, leads Sunny to have a breakdown on the dock, knees against her chest as she buries her face into them.
Even though Quinn tries to put away his worries, he can’t help but feel bugged that he hadn’t seen Sunny the entire afternoon. He spots the familiar brunette sitting on the dock, and even though his head tells him no, his heart begged him to say yes.
Quinn Hughes listened to his heart.
He walks up to Sunny, sitting beside her close enough that lets her know he’s there but not so close that she’s uncomfortable.
“Are you okay Suns?”
Sunny sniffles, lifting her head to see Quinn. Suddenly, her cries intensify, making the poor boy panic in worry.
“Shh, it’s okay Sunny.” He mumbles, patting her back.
“It’s not!” She sobs, “first, the boy I like ignores me for no reason, and then this really really mean girl says that I put on this fake nice act and that I’m just some loser who doesn’t drink!”
Quinn’s heart skips a beat when Sunny practically confesses her feelings to him. He can’t help but feel incredibly guilty at ignoring her for so long.
“I’m sorry Suns, I never meant to hurt you.” Quinn pulls her body into his chest, placing his chin on head. “The truth was, I’m inlove with you and I didn’t know how to handle that so I figured ignoring you would make my feelings away?”
Sunny stops crying for a second, slightly giggling at Quinn’s words. “Are you stupid Quintin?!”
Quinn grimaces. “I know, I know. But I was just scared. You made my heart beat faster, and before I knew it, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I never felt so inlove with anyone before—and I felt like I couldn’t breathe with you not near me. You’re like the sun to my moon, Sunny. You brighten up my day with the most prettiest smile I’ve ever seen, and your giggles bring me the most happiness I’ve ever experienced in my life. I just… I just didn’t know how to express that to you without scaring you off.”
Sunny wipes away her tears, placing a small tender kiss on Quinn’s jaw. “You could’ve just said so, Quinn. I’m inlove with you as much as you are inlove with me.”
Quinn finally decides to push away all his nervousness and lean down to give Sunny a kiss, one that he’s been dying to do since the day he met her at the lake house.
And just like that, Sunny Damount had became the sun in Quinn Hughes’ life.
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sunflower-lilac42 · 3 months
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✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒 ♔
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a list of all of my favorite fics that i have read
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all fic recs can also be found here ➵ fic recs! or under 'sunny lune's fic recs'
fics sorted into categories, then organized by person
✎ NHL ⇘ : :
➺ hurt romance | nico hischier ➵ @sc0tters
⤷ extra notes: i freaking loved this, i was looking for a fic with hurt nico
➺ rest time | nico hischier ➵ @heavenlyhischier
⤷ extra notes: i love abby's writing, that's all
➺ ice princess | nico hischier ➵ @emaanemaa
⤷ extra notes: this was so adorable, i giggled when ever nico said princess
➺ don't worry, i'm here | nico hischier ➵ @leaentries
⤷ extra notes: more nico comfort
➺ christmas tree farm | nico hischier ➵ @lvrzegras
➺ shield | nico hischier ➵ @leaentries
⤷ extra notes: protective nico is my drug
➺ i'm not letting you drive home in this condition | nico hischier ➵ @generalllimaginesss
➺ missing you | nico hischier ➵ @sc0tters
⤷ extra notes: too good not to tell you about
➺ clockwork | nico hischier ➵ @kelseys-version
⤷ extra notes: nico and taylor? esepcially tonight (2/17) sold
➺ off-limits | nico hischier ➵ @hischierhoney
⤷ extra notes: this was the perfect mix of cute/adorable and hilarious. i couldn't tell you how many times i actually laughed out loud because of this. and plus, it's nico x hughes!sister a guilty pleasure of mine
➺ felt feelings | jack hughes ➵ @sc0tters
⤷ extra notes: amber is a reoccuring theme here, so deal with it
➺ jack blurb ➵ @luke-hughes43
➺ late night blues | jack hughes ➵ @sweetestdesire
⤷ extra notes: I will never get over her fics, ever. jack made me swoon here
➺ 4:41 am | jack hughes ➵ @sweetestdesire
⤷ extra notes: this made me want ice cream but it was comforting
➺ the start of it all | jack hughes ➵ @babydollmarauders
⤷ extra notes: part of her el!hughes au, it's so adorable, i read it more times then i would like to admit
➺ pieces | luke hughes ➵ @gisellaswrld
⤷ extra notes: this was so heartbreaking but it was so comforting
➺ breathless | luke hughes ➵ @goldengleams
⤷ extra notes: i love these types of fics
➺ dawn awakening | luke hughes ➵ @sweetestdesire
⤷ extra notes: giggling, screaming, kicking my feet, giggling more
➺ sara | luke hughes ➵ @angelicsoka
⤷ extra notes: i knew i was going to be obsessed with this as soon as i read the first line and i was so blown away with her writing! read the trigger warnings, of course, but definitely give this a read if you won’t be triggered, it’s an absolutely beautiful piece of work
➺ missin' you | luke hughes ➵ @bluewxrld07
⤷ extra notes: my luke side was strong when i read this, it was so so so good
➺ viktory kisses | quinn hughes ➵ @wintfleur
⤷ extra notes: the fact that this is the only quinn fic on here is criminal, i need more (loved this fic!)
➺ jealous quinn blurb ➵ @thedevilrisen
⤷ extra notes: i audibly giggled after reading this (and during too)
➺ a guided hand | quinn hughes ➵ @sweetestdesire
⤷ extra notes: it's quinn and brynn! (also it's her birthday as i'm writing this so go send her love... do it)
➺ the accident | quinn hughes ➵ @bedsyandco
⤷ extra notes: part of an au but it's so good, please read it. i have a soft spot for these kind of fics (and quinn)
➺ this is me trying | hughes!sister ➵ @aliaology
⤷ extra notes: hughes!sister is my favorite thing on my planet, so is this fic
➺ all-american bitch | hughes!sister + luca fantilli ➵ @luvhughes43
⤷ extra notes: hughes!sister, need i say more?
➺ i look at you wondering where your mind is at; you're the first choice in my heart always | brock boeser x hughes!sister ➵ @gisellaswrld
➺ how you get the girl | connor bedard ➵ @lvrzegras
⤷ extra notes: taylor swift and connor bedard? sold, take my money
➺ connor blurb/insta edit ➵ @ijustreallylovethem
⤷ extra notes: raegan!!!!
➺ kisses & cuddles | connor bedard ➵ @huggybearluvr
⤷ extra notes: connor girlies, this is for you... read it!
➺ linear progress | cole caufield ➵ @bagopucks
⤷ extra notes: i'm still sobbing and thinking about this
➺ unspoken titles | jamie drysdale ➵ @sc0tters
⤷ extra notes: i wasn't sure if i felt worse or better after reading this fic (jamie trade)
➺ catching flights | luca fantilli ➵ @missjomarch
➺ miss you, quietly | luca fantilli ➵ @bitchinbarzal
⤷ extra notes: i sobbed, multiple times, even after i read it
➺ talk to you | fraser minten ➵ @bitchinbarzal
⤷ extra notes: this was so fucking adorable, i can't
✎ F1 ⇘ : :
➺ me and you vs. the world | lando norris ➵ @theemporium
➺ breaking point | landoscar ➵ @adventuringblind
➺ pretty woman moment | max verstappen ➵ @pucksandpower
⤷ extra notes: i love pretty woman and i love max verstappen
✎ AU'S ⇘ : :
➺ waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister ➵ @doc-pickles
⤷ extra notes: i was hooked immediately
➺ feather | luke hughes ➵ @diorsluv
⤷ extra notes: i got serve emotional whiplash from this, you won't regret it
➺ penalty box | trevor zegras ➵ @starsandhughes
⤷ extra notes: probably one of the first, if not the first nhl thing I’ve read on here, both series and fic wise. fell in love immediately and I never stop thinking about them. kay is one of my favorite writers and I will never get over or stop talking about her writing
➺ cover me in sunshine | gabe perreault ➵ @hischier-papaya
⤷ extra notes: you best believe that all of the au's i am secretly in on with cam are going on here once she gets them posted. i am so fucking excited for this au, gabe and ollie are gonna be my roman empire
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