#all the pining and pinky brushes

[sunnami]

❝time will tell.❞

[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 + lily 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

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. 

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!!

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you get embarrassed and miguel won’t let it go —featuring a smug miguel and a pining spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"This is super, uber bad," Lyla drawls lightly. 

Miguel waves an annoyed hand at her, gaze on the orange monitor in front of him. You shift from foot to foot beside him, neck craned to watch in tandem. 

"Like, so bad. Maybe you should go help." 

"I can't intervene now," Miguel says. 

"How come?" you ask, pulling at the tips of your gloves one at a time as you worry, until the whole thing is slipping off and onto the floor. 

You make no move to pick it up. Miguel glances down at it, then the screen again before saying, "Because they'll never learn. And because there's too many fingers in the same pie." 

"Pie?" you ask. 

"You don't want that?" he asks, pointing at your fallen glove. 

You blink, pulled back to the present from your stewing anxiety. It's hard seeing people you care about getting their asses handed to them and knowing you can't help.

Miguel rolls his eyes, only half-making fun as he leans down for your glove. You lean at the same time, almost knocking your head into his as your fingers brush. Miguel looks up, suddenly face to face with you. Your breath catches in your throat at the proximity. You can see every dark lash hedging his eyes, feel the fanning of his exhale as it kisses your top lip. 

His confusion is obvious. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

"Uh– it’s nothing." 

His eyes narrow, your heart skips a beat, and while Miguel might not have a spider sense he's still enhanced. He must hear it. Something in his eyes changes, the smallest flicker of amusement relaxing his brow.  

You wince and stand up rigidly straight, face to the screen again so he can't see your flustered expression head on. "Nothing." 

"Sort of felt like something." 

"It's nothing, Miguel." 

"That why you forgot this?" 

You look down at his offered hand, your glove bunched up in his big palm. 

Your lips part of their own accord, any effort you've made to appear unaffected by him, his stature, and his general imposing demeanour now worthless. Too quickly, you snatch the glove from his hand and yank it back over your fingers, your pinky bending uncomfortably from the sheer force of it. 

"It's nothing," Miguel repeats without inflection, though he crosses his arms and chuckles a second later. 

You squirm beside him. "I– I'm distracted." 

"I can tell. Something caught your eye?" 

The urge to cover your face with both hands reaches an all time high. You settle for covering one flushed cheek. "Nothing interesting." 

"No? Well, we can change that." 

"Would you stop?" you ask, trying to sound furious but definitely bordering pleading. 

"I'm not doing anything. Nothing happened." 

"I wouldn't take that, if it were me," Lyla chimes in. 

"Good thing it's not you," Miguel says. 

Things are quiet for a while. Miguel refocuses on the fight unfolding on screen, and you try to calm your beating heart. The embarrassment refuses to wane, your pulse too stubborn to slow, and eventually Miguel must take pity on you, leaning toward you with arms crossed over his chest. "It wasn't that bad," he says.

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"I'm trying to make you feel better." 

"You– I– you were so close to me, I got nervous, it– it has nothing to do with you." 

Miguel raises his eyebrows. "Oh, okay." He straightens up. "Nothing to do with me. You know I can hear your heart, right?" 

"Wow. Is that unique to you?" you ask scathingly, knowing every Spider in the whole headquarters can likely hear the drum of your heart right now. 

You know he's teasing because he finally managed to catch you in a moment of awkwardness rather than the other way around, and because he's an asshole —you think that part hard, hoping his enhanced hearing has improved to include telepathy. Like he can tell, he grins, and he nods at nothing in particular. 

"Don't worry, Spider-Girl. I won't hold it against you." 

"Generous," you say. 

His voice drops to a rough, lilting murmur, "People have said that about me. Tall, handsome, generous." It's impossible to miss the implication. 

Your heart rockets and you have to turn away from him entirely to maintain any dignity you have left. 

"You know what else they say?" Lyla asks. "That he's a smug, tightly wound control freak who's too busy being a bad sport, totally missing Jess' call for backup." 

"What?" Miguel asks, all smoothness dropped from his voice. "Respond!" 

"Say sorry to Y/N."

"Lyla!" 

"Say sorry–" 

"I'm sorry," he says to you. You're happy to find genuine apology in his gaze, if only for a second. "Lyla, respond." 

"Already did." 

Miguel gets so immediately angry that his head tips back and his eyes screw closed, grunting his dissatisfaction. You send Lyla a grateful smile, smothering a wave of laughs with your gloved hand. 

"Don't worry, Miguel," you say cheerfully. "I won't hold it against you."

"...Thank you."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks for reading! i hope u enjoyed, pls reblog if u have the time! <;3 my other miguel fics

[mangocustard16]

FIRST DATE (VERNON'S VERSION)

genre: fluff, headcanon warnings: first date nerves, kiss(cheek) wc: 400 a/n: thank you anon! please reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated

first of all, he was nervous about asking you out. it was probably months of pining over you, planning things out, and just waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask

when he finally did, it was more like, "Hey...would...date...with...me"

picks you up from your house, with flowers, and opens the door for you so politely that you almost get the impression that he's acting strange

the two of you would probably go and see a movie for your first date and grab some popcorn before the movie starts

after finishing your popcorn before the movie even starts, you'll have to run back to buy some more

vernon doesn't pay you much attention he is way too absorbed in the movie for his own good

if you go to the bathroom during the interval, he buys you more snacks, so you can't argue or try to split the bill.

has a lot of thoughts about the movie so far so, tells you everything he's come up with

you've come to the conclusion, that this guy is a complete nerd and writes half of his reviews during intervals so he doesn't miss anything

his ears turn so red when your hands brush against his while reaching for the popcorn

suggests grabbing a bite to eat at a nearby diner

he excitedly discusses the movie's themes, character development, and any easter eggs he noticed

is very interested in your thoughts about the movie

is so flustered when you compliment him that he accidentally spills your drink, apologizing profusely and offering to pay for a replacement

the conversations with him are really deep

he prefers to really get to know you, the real you, and answers all your questions very seriously

the conversations flow so effortlessly that you don’t even realize how much time has passed until the sun starts to set 

internally takes notes of everything

what you're wearing, what he's wearing, the way you almost fall out of your seat laughing

'accidentally' links his pinky with you while walking back to the car

mhmm sounds right

he's driving you back home, almost pops out a ring when you play his favorite underground artist

tells you that he had so much fun and is down for another date

doesn't expect any kisses or anything

but if you kiss him on the cheek while leaving

oh boy, he’s going to think about it all night

@kflixnet @k-films@k-labels taglist-˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅: @bangchansbae @haecien @aaniag @aaasia111 @weird-bookworm @gigification @bewoyewo if you want to be added just send me an ask ♡⸝⸝

pls reblog if you liked !!

[coeurify]

THE PERFECT PAIR;

ELLIE WILLIAMS

·˚ ༘ * “if I told you, you'd know how to go break my heart in two."

pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader . college au. summary: you and your childhood best friend ellie have always done everything together, but things & feelings are starting to change. part 1 of _. slightly based on. and the song the perfect pair by beabadoobee. part 2 here warnings: whole series: lotsss of pining, angst, fluff etc. references to drinking, smoking etc. smut in future. just lots of exposition & fluff in this one. wc 4.3k

There was something you missed about childhood. A bottomless pit of nostalgia rises in your throat whenever the air smelt a little fresh, whenever you hear the songs of the morning birds. Nothing was quite the same as that anymore, the sky was never as blue as it had been through your twelve-year-old eyes, and the flowers never smelt as sweet as they did outside your childhood home during the summer. You often were told you cling too tightly to it, onto the feeling that everyone loses when they grow past the age of sleepovers and elementary homework. But how couldn’t you?

You were sure no year could compete with those ones, especially sixth grade, and you claimed this every chance you got. Even now, head hung out the passenger seat window of your best friend’s car, wind pressing against your face gently as you pulled into the parking lot of your university dormitories.

“It smells like sixth grade,” you hum, eyes pressing closed as you try to picture the colors you swore only were bright in childhood. “What does that even fucking mean? B.O. and bath and body works perfume?” a voice came beside you, a chuckle following the statement. Your eyes shoot open, following the messy bun that shook as your friend laughed gently.

“Ellie,” you frown, “It smells sweet, you know? Reminds me of the air when we were kids.”

“Everything reminds you of middle school. Swear to god you're the only one who misses that place,” Ellie muttered, doing a pretty shit job of backing into a parking space near the dorm building. You would comment on it later, maybe take a picture to tease her with. For now, you focused on her words, a pout brushing your lips. “It was a good year! I miss it!”

“Rose-colored glasses,” El makes a dismissive motion with her hand, taking in your frown.

“I think you just say that 'cause it's when you met me,” your friend continues, looking very smug at the observation she constantly taunted you with.

Was it a little true? Maybe.

It had been the year you met when Ellie was still a lanky and loud-mouthed kid, unsure of how to act or dress. You had been no better, sitting alone at lunch tables, hiding behind your much too big flannel that was not at all the style of the other girls. When Ellie sat by you, a year older and wearing something just as awkward as you, a Savage Starlight shirt, looking just as out of place, well, it was love at first sight.

Love in a friendship way, of course, but love nonetheless. Those freckles that her face hadn’t quite grown into yet had become your favorite sight in middle school, green eyes that you searched for every time you bounced into the building.

A string had been tied between your two pinkies, and it never had once frayed. Not through the rest of middle school, not when Ellie tried soccer that year she left for high school and forgot to talk to you for a whole week— 13-year-old you was simply devastated— and not even when Ellie got her very first girlfriend in the tenth grade. She left soccer after the first month, her girlfriend broke up with her over text right before homecoming, and that thread led her right back to your pinky.

Of course, you were two teenage girls.. so you fought. She fought when you started skipping your Friday night movies to talk to a new friend when you were in the ninth grade. You fought when Ellie took a girl to prom in junior year and didn’t even tell you. The worst fight had been when she left for college, leaving you alone to face senior year in the small town of Jackson. Everything she did seemed to frustrate you that year, though you can now begrudgingly admit it was just because you missed her.

But all friends fight about things like that, right? In the end it was still the two of you. The nervous smiles of your middle school selves always found their way back to your faces, and always made you feel just as excited as you had been to meet. It was what led you to follow her to college. Now in your sophomore year and Ellie’s junior, not much has changed. You still had your Friday night movies— only now tucked into the small beds of your dorms.

So maybe Ellie was a little right. Perhaps she knew your mind a bit too well. Maybe you did love those years so much because they had been so filled with her. But you, of course, wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. “You're so full of yourself, Williams.”

Ellie flung the keyring around her fingers, shrugging again as she stepped out of her car. “Not full of myself, just right.”

The passenger side of her door creaked lightly when you pressed it, stuttering before you could really get it to push open . It was something that had started when you got too high once while visiting her after she started college, and you slammed it into a concrete wall. You refuse to acknowledge that's why her door sucks, but you both knew.

“Shut up,” you flip her off over the hood of the car, reaching below the seat up front to grab the bag stuffed full of clothes for the weekend drive. It was only the second week into the fall semester, but you and Ellie both found yourself craving a little time in the comfort of Jackson, hence the trip.

Ellie smiles in response, winking and grabbing her backpack. You start walking the path before she even locks the doors, hearing her trampling footsteps follow behind. “I was just joking,” the girl whined, eyes catching the side of your face as you looked straight ahead. You weren’t really mad, but you liked when Ellie apologized for her taunting. “You know, I think it's cute how… sentimental you are about that shit,” she knocks her shoulder into your own.

You feel your body tense lightly at the word cute, shrugging it off as you pull your favorite sweatshirt off your body, the early September air too thick for it. “Whatever,” you shake your head, nudging her back in a sign of acceptance.

“Gotta stop getting so worked up, peach.”

“Gotta stop calling me that,” you retort, eyes rolling at the nickname like you always did.

“I will when it stops being funny,” Ellie’s hand came to ruffle your hair, making your lips press together. You hated the peach story, and you hated when she messed up your hair even more.

“Swear one of these days I'm gonna bite you for doing that,” you puff, ID card slipping into the reader that opened the dorm door.

“I'm sure you’d bite me for a lot less,” she scoffs, thinking back to all of the times you had not so nicely bit at her for something like taking your food or roughhousing with you. She holds open the glass door for you to step inside the lobby. It's relatively quiet. A mid-Sunday afternoon meant most college students were tucked away in their rooms, probably studying or fighting a hangover. The AC of the common room welcomes you, painting your skin with goosebumps as you clutch your sweatshirt.

“Don't tempt me,” you joke, looking her up and down dramatically— like she was some meal. Ellie seems to shy away from your face, making a noise. “Shut up, biter.”

You pout at your friend, “You just don't get it.”

“I don't want to, dude.”

The response earns Ellie a slap at her arm, which she reacts too loudly at, watching as you flush and shush her. Ellie smiles and leads you to the elevator.

When you reach it, you pause momentarily, rocking on your heels.

“Maybe I should like— go get some food from the cafe or something,” you shrug, looking to avoid what was waiting in your dorm room. This was obvious to Ellie, who looked over at you with a slight sense of humor. She expected this reaction, just not as early as your tiptoes found the metal of the elevator door.

“Get in the elevator,” she shoo’s you inside, a hand against your back. “I swear she won't hurt you.”

The she that Ellie was referencing was your new roommate, Dina. She moved in late, meaning you had only seen her a few times before you left for the weekend. Most of that time had been spent sleeping, as you found yourself spending most free time in Ellie’s dorm to avoid her. It wasn’t that she didn't seem nice, because she did. You just weren’t the best with new people. It had taken you nearly a whole semester to get comfortable with your previous roommate.

“You don’t get it!” You pout, leaning against the cool surface of the wall. “You and Rose have been roommates since freshman year. I don’t know a thing about Dina. I mean fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed with Jade.”

Ellie quickly cut in at the mention of your old roommate, “Jade was a dick.”

Ellie's distaste for your former roommate was no secret, though you didn’t quite understand why she harbored such feelings. Sure, Jade was a little messy, and teased you sometimes. But she was always mostly kind to you, doing your makeup for parties.. inviting you to hang out. She even would hold your hand when you got too tipsy at events, pull you home to your dorm and shoo away everyone else, even El, to take care of you. But when Ellie told you she was bad news, to look for a new roommate— you didn’t question it much. She had been in Jade's year, after all, and probably knew better.

You spare a glance at her, watching how she looks away at the mention of Jade. It forced a swallow down your throat, suddenly feeling like you had just gripped a touchy subject by the neck and shoved it in her face. You couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to talk about, and you didn’t really want to. So instead, you sigh loudly when the elevator dings.

“What if she’s crazy? Like an axe murderer?” you begin to ramble, eyeing all the decorated doors that line the white hallway. Your door was only seven down from Ellie’s, you had counted, so you took in the numbers on each entry as you inched closer to your own. “If she was an axe murderer, wouldn’t she have already killed you?”

You groan loudly, finding comfort in picking at the seams of your bag’s strap. “You never know! Maybe it's a long game..”

Ellie’s hands find your shoulders, steering you from behind to be directly in front of the door with your and Dina’s name decorations on it. “You're fine, peach. Stop being a pussy.”

Your head flips back dramatically, landing on your best friend's shoulder. “If I die, it’s on you, ok?”

Ellie stiffens slightly, enough for you to notice, and enough for her to shove you off, but not enough to mention it. It never was. She mumbles a few ‘yea yea’s’ before waving you off and starting down the hallway to her own door, which your eyes follow right up until her hand finds the doorknob. She sends you one last look, nodding at you as another sign of encouragement. The staring session is long enough for you to swallow the forming lump in your throat and unlock your door, gently popping your head in.

The room is quiet and a bit warm— though you guess that's from the open window. At first, you think your roommate may not be here, but you find her soon enough. Dina is settled on her bed, earbuds tucked in her ears as she writes in some book, which you assume to be homework. The door clicking closed is enough to sound through the music humming in her ears, causing brown eyes to look up. Your stomach twists at the eye contact, nerves biting at your shaky hands. But Dina smiled like she had every other time you two interacted. A totally normal, non axe murderer smile.

“Hey! How was your trip?” she tucks the earbuds under her, turning the attention to you. You try your best to seem totally nonchalant, kicking your shoes off near your bed. Sitting over the plush comforter, a loud huff leaves your lips as you shrug. “Was ok, just a lot of driving.”

Ok. Small talk, you could do this. You could so do this. Mentally you pat your own back, thanking the stars above you had been blessed with a roommate who could carry a conversation. “Oh shit, that’s gotta be a long time in the car, huh? I think I’d die,” Dina shivered, “My weekend was spent cooped up, so I applaud you.”

“What’d you do?” you push, trying your very best to be social with the girl you would be living with for the following year. It only became easier to do when you imagined the look of approval from Ellie it would likely receive—a friendly sort, of course.

“Hm, just watched movies with my boyfriend. Studied, but personally I think it’s criminal how much work I already have to do,” Dina moves into a sitting position, beginning to rattle on about her classes. You listen, nodding along.

“It's two weeks into the semester, for fuck sake,” she finishes a few minutes later. It pulls an honest chuckle from you as you move your head in agreement. “Yea, I kinda shot myself in the leg choosing English major, all the essays,” you frown. “But god, my friend Ellie,” you can't help how easy it was to bring her up, “she’s got it bad. Physics major.”

Dina makes a sound through her teeth, shaking her head. “Tough,” her lips pull into a slight pout as she quickly switches back to the two of you. “Hey, at least we can suffer together..” the brunette grins, shrugging, “maybe we could have like study nights, throw on a shitty show and work on classes together. Fridays?”

The offer is sweet, making you feel fuzzy all over at the hint of a blossoming friendship. But the day suggestion had you frowning, a cold bath over your form. Fridays were for Ellie and you. “Me and Ellie do movie night on Friday..” you begin, a slight worry rising in your body that you may have ruined this building idea. Dina didn't seem to sweat it, smiling just as softly as before. “That’s fine, Lemme see your class schedule. We can plan a weekday.”

Dina stands, making her way to your side of the room and taking a seat on your bed without a second thought. It almost made you jealous how simply Dina had been able to talk to you, come into your space, and build plans like the two of you were not strangers being forced to live with each other. If Ellie were here, she would probably say someone like Dina was good for you. Someone who could bite into the world more harshly than yourself, someone who didn’t have to force the confidence. Ellie would probably really like Dina. The thought makes you smile, and a little less stiff when Dina presses against you to watch you open your phone. You swear you hear a giggle at the sight of your lock screen, but you push that thought away.

The two of you spend the next ten minutes with your heads tucked over the tiny screen of your schedule, finally landing on a night that would work for both of you, Wednesday night after your final classes. The topic quickly switched to creating a list of tv shows you could watch during these nights.

Before long, Dina had ended up lying on your bed, your teddy bear tucked in her arms as she stared at the ceiling. “Could I invite Ellie to this a few times? I'm sure she could use the study time..” You ask absentmindedly, fingers scrolling through a list of 2000’s sitcoms. Dina nods, “Sure, maybe I’ll invite my boyfriend sometimes too..” She flips onto her stomach, looking up at where you sit.

“What about Friends?” Dina hums, chin finding her palms.

“I’ll put it down, Ellie hates friends, though,” your nail scrapes across the phone screen, adding the title to the notes you had formed. “What about New Girl?”

Dina seems to like this idea, nodding quickly. “New Girl for sure..” she watches you, head tilting. “Is Ellie the one you kept disappearing for last week? You talk about her a lot.”

The question made you a weird sort of uncomfortable; not sure why the observation from your roommate had you shifting over your blankets. “Yea, I.. she’s my best friend. I was really, um.. nervous about meeting you last week so she kinda let me hide in her dorm.”

Dina laughs gently, “Oh! I thought I had pissed you off or something, and you were hiding out with your girlfriend.”

“No!” you quickly say, fumbling to make a gesture with your hands. “First, definitely not girlfriend,” it felt important to say that before anything else, “and second, you didn't do anything. I'm just a pussy.”

The answer draws another laugh from Dina, which has you smiling along. Your phone is discarded as you find yourself settling back into a conversation about tv shows, “C’mon, let’s keep going with the list.”

A few moments later, a buzz pulls you out of the little world that had grown around you and Dina as you chattered. It was your phone, the picture of you and Ellie that acted as your lock screen covered by a text notification.

els

she axe murder u?

You grin a lot more than you should have, lip sucking between your teeth as you reply.

you

why? worried abt me? 🤨

els

just wanted to see u say i was right

you

k🖕🖕

The text is sent without much more thought, pressing down your phone to be face down as you hop back to the conversation at hand. Ellie, though you hate to admit it, was right. Dina wasn’t an axe murderer. She was actually really cool. She made it easy to talk, the words falling from your lips without the usual pause to make sure it sounded alright.

“Maybe we should start New Girl now,” Dina suggested, pulling the fuzzy blanket on your bed over herself. “Deal,” you grab your laptop from its place under your bed, making quick work of pulling up the show and setting the screen in between you two. You pull your knees to your chest, listening to the theme song as Dina makes herself comfortable on the other side.

When the following text came in, you were a few episodes in, cheeks sore from the jokes Dina had made along with the characters in the show. The sun was beginning to dim by then, and though it was early— you still rubbed your eyes from tiredness. The long drive to Jackson and back always did that to you.

els

come over and watch smthn?

els

i got ur fave snack from the caf

You didn’t see the text this time, phone screen still pressed softly into the corner of your bed. The buzz didn’t gain your attention either, too focused on watching Jess steal a TV from her ex onscreen. You were sure Ellie loved this episode, one you had played far too many times in high school. But the crinkled nose of Ellie’s reaction to jokes was replaced by the loud laughs of your roommate this time, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind how you let your eyes blink closed while still sitting up, and didn’t mind how Dina turned off the episode and hopped off your bed.

“You look tired,” she commented, “get some sleep. Jesse wants me to come over anyway.”

You yawn as she speeds around her side of the dorm to put on shoes and gather her phone, blinking your bleary eyes as some sort of embarrassment settles in you. You had almost fallen asleep watching TV when it was barely even six yet. What a great impression to leave.

“Oh shit, sorry..” you sit up further, rubbing your eyes again.

“Dude, you drove like all day. I’d be tired too,” Dina assures you, ”think someone texted you,” she adds as she reaches the door, eyeing your phone screen that had lit up again.

els

???

You nod, offering a smile as a thanks, “See you later.”

Dina grins, shooting you a thumbs up as the door shuts behind her. A small huff is released, your head falling back against your pillows.

None of today had been as bad as you thought it would, but the tension of meeting someone new was still pressing on your bones, and the alone time allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Dina was sweet. She made you laugh and relatively comfortable.. but the attempt to make sure she liked you was still leaving a tired ache on you.

You should check your phone, Dina’s reminder ringing in your ears as you let your eyes flutter closed. But sleep seemed more important right now, so you tucked your face into the pillow under you and let yourself have that. Whoever texted could wait.

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

Ellie’s head was also pressed into a pillow. Only she was staring at the ceiling, picking at her nails. She tried to ease herself when the third text had gone unanswered, deeming that shoving her phone off the bed dramatically was the only correct answer. It would be too embarrassing to text you again.

Her own dorm room was empty, a movie pressed paused on the first few minutes— a bag of your favorite chips next to it.

Maybe it was a little selfish, texting you and asking you to come over when she had been the one to tell you to get to know Dina. But Ellie was always a little selfish with you.

Especially when you stopped answering her texts.

She wanted to know exactly how everything went, how Dina had acted to you, if she was friendly, and if you got along. She wanted to know what you thought of Dina, what you thought of anything that happened. Ellie wanted you to be sitting on her bed telling her all this like you always did. But you hadn’t answered.

Maybe you had really hit it off with Dina and were doing something. That was what Ellie wanted for you. So she knew there was no reason to feel a sharp twinge in her chest at the thought you had ignored her texts to instead hang out with your roommate.

Her reactions when it came to you never made much sense.

So she had instead ended up with her eyes glued to the white paint of her dorm, convincing herself you had most definitely forgotten about her. Part of her brain waited for a buzz of her phone, maybe a knock on her door. It didn’t come, and Ellie shoved the chips off her bed next in retaliation to this. Maybe she was a little dramatic, but you had ignored her! Or, Ellie assumed you had.

In retrospect, she knew it wasn’t a big deal. She had just spent the whole weekend with you, and it had only been a few hours of unanswered texts. She could survive. She didn’t need her best friend to watch every movie. Ellie could wait until tomorrow to hear about your roommate. She could tell herself all of this, but it still made her ribs hurt a little. A bit more than it should.

But Ellie didn’t like to think about those sorts of things, the things that stayed unspoken between you. That had stayed that way since you met. Honestly, Ellie wasn’t even sure you noticed it. She knows she tries not to. She tries to lock all the little things away in the little box in her brain labeled ‘DON'T GO THERE!’

But when Ellie was alone, when you did things like not answer her for a while, or you two get into a small banter— she knows her reactions weren’t exactly normal. She knows that the anger in her stomach that builds with each moment you don't text her back isn't exactly normal. But as always, Ellie pushes it down. Plays it off to herself as dramatic girl friendships, something Joel used to always say about you and her when another argument left her in a shitty mood.

Yea, that’s all it was.

So she tucked her chin into a pillow, pressing play on the movie by herself, pulling out her journal from its place under her pillow to begin doodling in.

Like always, the pencil begins to leave lines of you. Today it was your sweatshirt that you tugged all around today. Ellie knew it as her own, one you had stolen from her all the way back when she was a senior. She isn’t sure you remember it, but she surely does. She remembers it whenever you pull it over your arms or stuff it in your backpack. You took that thing everywhere when it was cold enough, and Ellie always noticed.

She huffs, scribbling over the sketch with hard pencil marks, ripping through the paper as she writes in bold, messy letters, ‘Don't go there with her.’ Ellie forced the journal closed, doing her best to focus on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, she fell asleep, head pressed halfway on the pillow, her phone still empty from notifications.

series taglist: @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @lllijeu

[comatosebunny09]

Astarion’s the ex-boyfriend who reluctantly let you go because he felt like he wasn’t good enough.

He’s the ex who took some time away to mature before he could face you and your companions again.

It was nothing you did—Gods, you were perfect. He just wasn’t ready for what a genuine relationship entailed. For what it cost.

When Withers reunites you, you secretly hope to mend things—and, secretly, so do your friends.

Your conversation is seamless as if you hadn’t spent all these months avoiding one another like a sickness.

He smiles more. Your laughter’s lighter now. He’s no less beautiful than he was six months ago. His touch still makes your skin prickle with static electricity despite its harmlessness. Still makes your heart stutter, and those dragonflies stir in your belly, and you’re a nervous little wreck, aren’t you?

You part ways with see you laters as opposed to goodbyes because the latter would imply you’re done for good. But fate has a tricky way of meddling with your lives and bringing you back together like driftwood returned to the shoreline.

Eventually, you become acquaintances, running into each other by happenstance throughout Baldur’s Gate.

Bumping hands whilst reaching for a book in the library. Encountering each other at the night market, exchanging familiar smiles and nods—Gods, darling, you’re still as terrible at scoping out a good deal as ever, he jests with that customary waggle of his hand.

Then, you become friends again. Close friends. And eventually, he becomes a constant in your life once more, showing up to your home each night with the promise of wine and juicy gossip—it’s all just a ruse to see you.

Though your breaths hitch in tandem each night you find him seated close to you on your settee—your thighs brush together, your pinkies graze, and his lips “accidentally” touch your cheek—you don’t want to ruin things. Don’t want to dredge up those old feelings. Fester those old wounds because, of course, you still pine for one another.

But you don’t want to muck up your rekindled friendship by once again rushing into something he may still not be ready for.

So you settle for breaking your own heart each night, smiling like a drunken, enamored fool while he rests his head in your lap. And you twirl his pretty little curls about your fingers, watching his lashes flutter, and his cheeks redden with your blood—you still offer it to him from time to time. That’s what friends do, right?

And though your lips twitch with a question, with that urge to ask what happened to us—with a need to lean down and kiss him—you stomp down those impulses.

You’re content with sitting with him like this, watching a smile round his lips and his chest quake with a fond chuckle because maybe he’s still as much taken by you as you’ve always been by him.

And maybe it’s just you being wishful. Maybe it’s the candlelight playing tricks on your eyes. Perhaps it’s the wine warming in your veins, making you delusional.

But you feel his hand at your nape, slowly drawing you closer. And the world around fades into a beautiful bokeh when your lips meet, and your neck hurts from the angle, and maybe your lips are a little chapped and unrehearsed after all this time, but…

Well, it’s every bit of perfect. Just like you remembered it.

[cougheemedicine]

Light as a Feather

Blade x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2165

Warnings: Mostly fluff, angst at the end, allusions to prostitution but nothing actually happens, skimmed over but not proof read (I think that’s it?)

Content: Reader works in a brothel as an escort, Reader is the stellaron hunter's informant, mutual pining, longing, Reader yearns for non-intimate affection, Blade is bad at any kind of affection but is trying, Kafka and Silver Wolf mentioned

Summary: As cut-throat and ruthless as Blade could be, he was always gentle with you. Something you’re not used to in your line of work.

A/n: Continuation of my previous work You but can be read on its' own.

Also, guess who’s now obsessed with Love and Deepspace

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

        Being arm candy for some rich politician for a night was easy enough on its own. Dress yourself to the nines in your finest finery, powder yourself in only the most expensive make up, and flash that show-stopping smile of yours. Make the other attendees laugh a little, and your patron may just throw in a tip.

        You've done it before, you've got the act down to an art at this point. When to laugh, when to bat your lashes, whose hand to kiss and who to turn your nose up to. You'll do anything for the right price.

        But there's something about this place, and the patrons, that sends a shiver clawing up your spine. The eyes are colder than you're used to, and the champagne is sour. The pillars holding up the high ceilings and grand chandeliers are rotten at the base, and you don't know how much longer the foundation will hold.

        Your patron, a devilishly handsome politician who'd recently taken the spotlight for all the wrong reasons, takes your hand. He grips your fingers so tightly you wouldn't have been able to pull away if you tried. Making a show of it, he kisses the ring resting on your pinkie finger, the ring he had bought you. "I'll be back shortly. Entertain those officials and their wives for me, won't you? And save me a dance,"

        Music swells as your patron leaves, you catch him shaking hands with a woman in violet out of the corner of your eye before your attention is recaptured by the officials you have hanging off your every word. The lights slowly dim, and groups break off into pairs, heading to the dancefloor. Slowly the people surrounding you dissipate, and you can finally breathe. Empty words, honeyed smiles covering rancid ambitions. It was an entirely new language to learn, and you weren't any kind of scholar.

        The air changes, colder somehow, and you feel eyes on you once more. Though, these eyes don't disgust you.

        "Hey, you,"

        Blade hums, "You look tired,"

        Blade stands shoulder to shoulder with you. Dressed just as fancily as you, even his long hair is elaborately braided back, surely Kafka and Silver Wolf's doing. You glare at him from your periphery. "Good evening to you as well, good sir. What happened to 'you look nice'?"

        Blade hums again, his shoulder brushes against yours, and his gloved fingers ever so lightly graze your knuckles.

        The song changes, and pairs change and sway. People weave their way back to the sidelines as a slow waltz resonates throughout the hall.

        "I didn't know you'd be here of all places. I thought you'd wait till he was somewhere less... public," Your patron didn't choose you. You had carefully placed your picture at the top of the pile of escorts he frequented, all so he'd try to cozy up to you in the way all people of his ilk did when faced with a beautiful face and a silver tongue. You'd been slowly building a file on him for weeks.

        Blade drops his gaze, playing with the ruby ring on your finger worth more than anything you own. "Plan's changed. Kafka's distracting him while Silver Wolf clears his files. I'm here to get you out since we didn't tell you anything. Things'll get messy when he realizes,"

        "Aw, I'm touched. Kafka looks great in violet by the way," Your jest falls as flat as your tone. Far too done with everything to be expressive. You're sure Blade won't mind. "You could've waited till he paid me y'know. I only got the down payment,"

        Blade sighs, and he retracts his hand. "Elio says he needs him gone, we couldn't wait any longer. I'll make sure you're properly compensated,"

        Once more the song changes, another waltz. You step forward, setting your champagne flute on the tray of a passing server before offering your hand to the stellaron hunter. "May I have a dance first? I won't step on your feet. Promise,"

        Blade pulls his lips into a line, contemplative, and a grin spreads across your painted lips as he relents, taking your hand. "Just one,"

        You tug him to the dancefloor, resting your hand on his shoulder. Blade's hand ghosts over the small of your back, barely even guiding you as you both sway to the melody. He keeps you close, despite his hesitance to even touch you. With nothing but a gentle squeeze of your fingers, Blade spins you, tugging you even closer.

        You smile, a short laugh leaving your lips when you finally look at the man's face. His eyes are focused solely on you. Deep crimson, reminiscent only of blood, meets your eye with such a burning intensity you can't bare look away. Even if another shiver goes up your spine, the cause of it completely different than previously.

        You and Blade continue to sway to the music, your chest grazing his, and the feeling of his fingers ghosting over the fabric covering your back sending icy tingles down your back.

°•.

        Ever so lightly, like you'd shatter under his touch, Blade leads you to the balcony of the hall. The eyes of the officials you were entertaining earlier pierce your flesh like rusty daggers, somehow able to zero in on you from across the grand banquet hall. As piercing as their eyes are, and as venom seeps from their lips, surely saying nothing good about you. You keep your gaze forward.

        Blade could feel you stiffen through his gloves and the fabric of your garment. You can feel his thumb rub gentle circles on your back. You catch when his eyes flit to your form, before over his shoulder back into the fray of the event. The patrons, not at all subtly, whispering behind their fans and plates of hors d'oeuvres.

       He huffs, scanning the balcony before bringing you closer by the hip. “Blade, what are you doing?”

       “Hold tight,”

       “What? Why?” A scream leaves your lips, heart in your throat, arms snapping around Blade faster than even you could process as Blade jumps from the balcony of the venue to the roof of a block of luxury condos.

       Blade stabilizes you, hands firm on your shoulders as your legs gain feeling again. “Never,” You grit through heavy breaths “Do that again,”

       Not a chuckle, or even a hum of acknowledgment from the man as he steps away from you, heading to the edge of the roof to get a better look of the surroundings. Your heart clenches in a way unfamiliar to you, especially when paired with the tingling that came with such a delicate touch.

       To think a touch so feather-light from a man as stoic as Blade would have you swooning like a maiden in love. You were used to rough. Controlling and assertive. Like you were a mere thing instead of a living, breathing being. Something as small as Blade brushing his knuckles against yours and playing with the ring on your finger shouldn’t leave you, a practised escort, reeling and needing to collect yourself in the way it does.

       “Well, my knight in shining armour, what are we to do now?” You tack your typical smile on your face, striding forward with a new strength in your gait as if you hadn’t just been clinging to him for fear of collapsing on yourself not even a minute prior. Side by side once more, Blade turns to you, eyes swirling with something so dim you can barely read it. He offers you his hand, stone-faced as ever. “Let’s get you home,”

       It hits you like a bullet, jarring in a way you almost don’t feel it until it’s well too late, and the spark from the barrel has already faded. Blade’s outstretched hand, an offering instead of a command. Even as you place your hand atop his, he doesn’t even clasp it, only brushing his thumb over your knuckles, and that damn ring.

       Blade always gave you the choice. The choice to pull away, the choice to accept. A touch so light you can barely feel it but you still know it’s there. Light as a feather.

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

       Blade groans audibly as he tugs the pins from his hair, the elaborate braids and twists tumbling down his back when he runs his gloved hand through his hair. Now in the comfort of your room, you do the same. Wiping the make up from your face after changing into something much more comfortable. You can see his reflection in your vanity mirror, his back is turned to you.

       “You’re going to get your hair all tangled doing that,”

       Crimson eyes dart to meet yours through the mirror. Blade shrugs his shoulders, turning to you fully in the mirror, “It’s fine,”

       You roll your eyes, being as dramatic as you can with the action as you stand from the stool. You turn to Blade, one hand on your hip and a brush in the other. “Sit down, mister,”

       Blade only blinks at you, dropping his hands to his sides. The stalemate between you both is short lived when Blade sighs heavily, making his way across the room and sitting himself down on your vanity stool. You grin, you win again. Blade’s eyes snap to yours in the mirror, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not in the mood to argue with you,”

       You hum, situating yourself behind him as you begin brushing his hair “Mhm, whatever you say Bladie,”

       Minutes pass in silence. Only the occasional huff from Blade when your brush hits a particularly tough knot, and your amused hums when your eyes meet Blade’s through the mirror. He looks thoroughly annoyed, and you’re living for it.

       “You’re enjoying this far too much,”

       “Shush, you. If you wanted me to stop you’d have gotten up.”

       Silence follows your exchange, even as you set your brush down. You run your fingers through his hair, twisting it and letting it lay over his shoulder. “Perfect. Now turn to me, your bangs are uneven,”

       Blade does as you say, wordlessly looking up at you from his place. It’s only then do you realize how close the both of you are. Barely three inches of space between you. Blade’s eyelids droop, gazing at you hazily as you raise a hand to his jaw. Tentatively, you let just your fingertips graze his skin, your fingers under his chin while your thumb just barely brushes his jawline. You suck in a breath, using your free hand to fix his bangs. “May I kiss you?”

       “You-“ Blade rasps, barely above a whisper before cutting himself off as you inch closer. As awkward as the angle is, you’re standing between his legs, basically hovering over him. Neither of you move away. A small smile curls across your lips. Blade never forced anything on you, dangling flint the fact he paid you over your head to push you along. The fleeting touches, and stolen time were never a precursor to anything. You could always pull away.

       An inch. A centimetre. Then nothing at all. Blade stands abruptly, the wooden stool scratching against the floor making you wince. You lick your lips, the buzzing sensation of what could’ve been still present. Blade raises his hands, rubbing the underside of your arms as your eyes meet once more. Something you could almost read as regret pooling in his eyes. “Not-“ He sucks in a breath, “Not like this,”

       “Blade, what do you mean-?“

       He dodges your question, weaving around you to your balcony. You all but scramble to follow him, barely avoiding slamming yourself into the glass pane doors. His white-knuckle grip on the railing lessens as you trail behind him. Silently, you place your hand on his, and he turns to you. He stares at you, in that way he always does. Something you can’t quite place in his gaze as he looks at you. He doesn’t move as you get closer again, prying his fingers from the railing to lace with yours.

       “I’m sorry, Blade. I shouldn’t have-“ Blade cuts you off, silently he leans forward, pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead. His grip on your interlocked hands tightens, ever so slightly. The pressure is barely there, you could back away if you wanted. Slip your hand from his and go back inside, but you’d be insane if you did. Blade is the one who back away. The one to lean back, leaving a tingling sensation in your forehead. The one to pry his hand from yours. 

       And, just like that, he’s gone. Off like he was never even there. You raise a hand to your forehead, brushing your thumb against where his lips had been. Light as a feather.

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

work belongs to @cougheemedicine, all forms of plagiarism, modifying, translating, reposting are not allowed.

[inuyashaluver]

hi! could you write something for maya le tissier where she has an athlete gf for a sport like tennis or something and goes to one of her games? <3

ace - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which you and your girlfriend are each other’s biggest fans

warnings: a little long? i think that’s it!

a/n: maya baby! thanks so much for the request, enjoyyy❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if someone told you and your girlfriend’s childhood selves that you both would not only live out your dreams of being together, but pursuing your lifelong passions as well, they’d have a heart attack.

you and maya, two peas in a pod have been absolutely inseparable since you were kids, growing up together in guernsey.

maya had always been drawn to football, having to play in the boys team just for some play time.

whereas, for you, it's always been tennis. you both met in school, running around crazily and excitedly during sports that no one seemed to enjoy. you quickly gravitated towards each other and never stopped from then on.

growing up in the same neighbourhood proved to be extremely beneficial for the two of you, countless afternoons spent at each other’s houses, chatting, laughing, yearning.

—

maya laid down a soft blanket in her backyard, the stars shining above as you came out with a tray of snacks in hand.

maya smiles when she sees you, hurriedly emptying your hands and ushering you to sit down. you both laughed and conversed, the pining glances almost unbearable when the other wouldn’t notice.

you lay down next to each other, your head resting on maya’s bicep as you both looked up at the stars. the cool breeze brushed against your skin but the warmth radiating from both of your bodies was all you needed.

maya would point out constellations to you, not in a scientific way but the maya way, making crazy pictures out of them just to hear your laugh.

“these are all your ancestors, star girl, say hi” maya teases, lifting up your hand and waving it excitedly, you laugh brightly, slapping her chest lightly as she giggles.

“says you, superstar” you mock, snuggling into her a little further when she pulled you closer slightly.

you and maya talked back and forth, about all your dreams, what you wanted to see the other doing in the future, swearing with a pinky promise the two of you would try your hardest to get there.

—

your friendship only blossomed as the two of you got older, even in high school the two of you proved to still be attached at the hip. so much so, people were questioning whether the two of you were dating. you both wished you were but were too scared.

you both joined better teams and facilities, still making an effort to spend all your free time together whenever you could. you and maya were each other's biggest supporters, through the thick and thin. celebrating the wins and the losses with a big hug which eased both of your worries.

—

“star girl!” maya beams brightly, holding her arms out to you as you walk into her embrace after a rare loss of a match. your head was nuzzled into her chest, the girl whispering words of praise to you as she gently rubbed up and down your back with her warm hand.

“i lost” you mumble against her training hoodie, “doesn’t matter, you were amazing as usual” maya says sternly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you hug her tightly.

you weren’t a sore loser, not at all, but there was something so gratifying about winning a match, especially if you knew maya was watching, the girl coming immediately after training just in time for your match.

you allow yourself to be vulnerable with maya, something she did with you too. there was no judgement, only love and support when your walls would break down.

you breathe out sadly against her and maya frowns a little, pulling you to be at arm's length from her. “should we go get some ice cream?” maya smiles softly, moving a stray hair bothering your eyes away, you pout up at her slightly and she would love nothing more than to kiss it away but she couldn’t.

“not sure i deserve it” you sigh, maya moves her hand to lightly flick your forehead, making you jolt back as she stifled a giggle, “of course you do, come on” she moves her hands to rest on your biceps, giving them a gentle squeeze before grabbing all your stuff in her arms despite your numerous protests.

a sharp glare was sent your way when your hand attempted to grab your racket bag, dropping your hand with a huff “may, you’re tired, let me hold it,” you groan, maya shakes her head with a chuckle, “so are you” she taunts, you shut your mouth at that, you were exhausted, not just physically.

you were instantly cheered up when maya took you for ice cream, maya proud of her work when you couldn’t stop smiling as she dropped you off home.

you pull her into a tight hug when she walked you to your door, “thank you” you whisper, kissing her cheek quickly, continuing to hold onto her tightly.

“anytime, babe” she says softly, her hands comfortingly pressed against your back before reluctantly letting you go.

—

you and maya both had a mutual understanding that you liked each other, it was pretty obvious with the amount of affection you had for one another.

though your relationship didn’t progress yet, both of you waiting to see who would make that first move. and funnily enough, maya did it by accident when you were both 17.

you give her a bright wave when she finally sees you from the pitch during the line up, she grins at you brightly and sends you an equally excited wave, gaining some teasing from her teammates that she shook off like it was nothing.

whenever you were at each other’s games, you played better than ever, wanting to impress one another, in reality, you could both just sit in silence and the other would be in absolute awe.

maya had placed exceptionally well, hearing you cheer for her loudly amongst everyone else. her team had won an easy 2-0 match, and when that final whistle blew, maya didn’t waste any time and bounded over to you.

when she approached you, she noticed you with her number written neatly on your cheek, her heart beating out of her chest as she took in your appearance, in your tennis gear that she loved.

“hi, gorgeous” she says as she nears you standing on the other side of the barrier, “hey, champion” you tease, a proud smile evident on your face.

maya chuckles, without thinking, cradling your cheek in her hand and pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips, your breath hitched when you felt her warm lips against yours, tensing when she pulled away with an expression of horror.

“oh my god” she breathes out, “i’m so sorry, oh my god, i am so sorry, i wasn’t thinking!” she rambles, you blink at her slowly, slightly dazed.

her rambling continues while you just stare at her in slight shock, hearing apologies spill from her lips as she hyperventilates.

“may” you say softly, her eyes finally meeting yours as her breathing began to settle. “it’s okay” you smile, feeling a little brave and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. she’s bright red when you pull away, so were you but you really didn’t care.

you both just smile at each other for a couple of seconds before breaking out into large fits of giggles, maya pulling you into a tight embrace, a wordless confirmation for the both of you that forever just started.

—

when maya got signed to manchester united, you luckily got a new contract and coach lined up in manchester and you just couldn’t decline.

you both moved into an apartment that just radiated love and warmth. elements of you and maya imbued in the residence.

you and maya were highly established athletes, you’d won countless amounts of championships and grand slams that you couldn’t even display the trophies anymore.

maya as well was extremely well decorated, countless amounts of awards and accomplishments that struggled to be displayed as well.

and even though you and maya were incredibly passionate about sport, it always came a close second to the real first places in your hearts, each other.

you and maya always found beauty in the simple things in your lives, bundling up at home after a gruelling time at training. literally lying on top of each other as you cuddled, tuning out the rest of the world while you’d both lazily kiss away any worries of the day, the gentle lull of your shared favourite movie filling out the sounds of the room.

a frequent activity you and maya loved to do on the weekend being hand in hand exploring, whether it was a new cafe or just a walk around your street, you only needed the company of each other to feel that feeling of home. safety.

—

“baby?” she called out from the front door, smiling as she heard you running from the living room to see her standing in the entryway.

you waist no time jumping on the girl, she laughs brightly as she catches you by your thighs, her cheeks tinged with pink when you spread kisses all over her cheeks, purposely avoiding her lips.

“i missed you” you breathe out, maya smiles fondly, “i saw you this morning” she teases, you hush her with a sweet kiss to her lips, your mouths moving together softly before she places you back on the ground,

“missed you too, beautiful” she grins, pressing another kiss to your lips before hanging her keys on the hook next to her door and hurriedly taking off her shoes as you went back to the living room.

she quickly gets changed and smiles when she feels you hugging her from the back in your bedroom

“make dinner with me?” you mumble against her back, “of course” she says like it was obvious, waiting for you to spin around so she could playfully smack your backside, giggling when you sent her a halfhearted glare.

you did most of the work but maya helped diligently, helping you cut the vegetables for the pasta dish the two of you were making. moments like these were your favourite with maya, the little parts of life that made your heart feel fuzzy.

you stir the sauce gently as maya begins to huff in annoyance, “now what?” she groans, you laugh at her over your shoulder, “you wait now, baby” you smile, “let me stir” she demands, “no, you did it last time!” you laugh, maya comes up behind you and plants her hands firmly on your hips, relishing in the fact your outfit of choice was one of her jerseys.

she leans down to jokingly bite your shoulder, chuckling when you flinch under her, you stop stirring for a second and maya immediately takes over, claiming you weren’t good at your job.

you were sulking next to her, maya shaking her head amusingly as she picked you up and placed you on the counter next to her, one of her hands gently resting on your thigh as you both chatted about your days, talking about upcoming matches you both had slowly approaching.

maya would occasionally steal kisses amongst the laughter and the chatting, not that you were complaining, letting out a happy sigh against her lips when she kissed you a little longer, making her smile uncontrollably.

once dinner was ready, you both eat on the couch watching a romcom you’ve both watched a hundred times. a mutual favourite between the both of you. you and maya would quote the script to each other, laughing brightly at the movie.

by the time you’d both finished eating, you rest your head against her shoulder while you cuddled into her, giggling when maya would recreate the cringe moments in the movie to you just to hear you laugh.

whenever kiss scenes would come up, maya would scoff, always waiting for you to entertain her.

“he doesn’t know how to kiss a woman properly” maya shrugs, making you laugh and quickly shutting up when her head snapped towards you. “fine, i’ll prove it” maya grabbing your face and smashing her lips on yours, a kiss making you feel weak in the knees and completely light headed.

when she pulled away, she gave you a smug smile, winking and watching the movie like nothing even happened. funnily enough, she did this every time you watched this movie, you’re not complaining.

—

you were playing at wimbledon, maya couldn’t be more excited. you were already in london when maya had to stay back in manchester due to training, driving over as quick as she could to get there on time.

excitement bubbled in her veins when she entered the iconic wimbledon stadium, growing a little teary when she saw a picture of you for the final match, dressed completely in white according to the rules. maya snapped a photo of it, smiling brightly when she makes her way to your box.

she sits alongside your family, happily chatting while her leg bounced nervously as she waited to see you.

the cheers that echoed in the stadium when your name was called had her heart lurching, her eyes never leaving you as you walked out on the court completely composed .

maya always found you so attractive in times like this, never failing to remind you later on. you do the same thing when you watch her defending.

you just radiated confidence and determination when you took your step up on the court, highlighting why you were one of the best with each precise swing of your racket.

maya admired your skill, moments like these making her love you more than she ever could, endless. when you’d win a set, maya would cheer for you loudly with your family, bringing a little smile on your face when you could decipher her voice.

despite the pressure and intensity, you completely kept your cool, winning set for set when your focus was unwavering, executing each swing perfectly.

with a final breathtaking stroke, you sealed the title, when the match concluded, tears immediately welled in both yours and maya’s eyes, the crowd exploding into deafening cheers as your name was announced on the loudspeaker.

maya watched on proudly as you waved to the crowd, bowing to them and giving your opponent a warm hug in congratulations.

when you hoisted up that trophy, you looked straight at maya, both of you sporting bright grins as the cheers faded from your ears, the only thing mattering was each other.

as soon as all the formalities were over, maya rushed towards you, hoisting you up in a bone crushing hug. you cry into her shoulder as she cradles your head, whispering sweet nothings in you ear as you held on tight.

“my baby girl, so amazing, i’m so proud of you” maya says adoringly, her heart swelling with pride as she wiped away your happy tears. “i’m so happy you’re here, my lucky charm” you grin, your eyes glistening with gratitude when maya presses gentle kisses to your lips.

“you looked so good out there, you know?” maya smirks, her hand reaching to tug at the hem of your white skirt.

you laugh brightly at her, pulling her into another sweet kiss, “had to look pretty for my wag” you tease, maya chuckles, kissing your cheek affectionately, “my wag, my star girl” she says proudly, pulling you into another hug.

—

you both walked out of the stadium hand in hand, your hearts were full. maya boasted about you to your face and you couldn’t help but be sheepish around her compliments.

you had a taste of that pride when you watched maya play for manchester, wearing her jersey with a proud grin as you cheered loudly.

you and maya were each others biggest fans, and you both didn’t want it any other way.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

mayaletissier: i think i’ll stick to ball girl, wimbledon champ is too good for me

view all comments

yourname: hey, i think you’re good

↳ mayaletissier: don’t lie to me, you’re my girlfriend. you’re not supposed to lie.

↳ yourname: you’re a banging footballer, baby

↳ mayaletissier: i think i need private tennis lessons from a fit champion

↳ yourname: hm, i think i know someone

↳ mayaletissier: i think i can get you a private football coach too

↳ yourname: better be fit

[elliereject]

ifhy .1

* in which ellie’s obsession relationship with you begins to sour as your romance with your new boyfriend seems to flourish. it seems she’ll stop at nothing to ensure your happiness, (which you’ll find with her, obviously) even if it means hurting you in the process.

* lowkey obsessive ellie, (I LIKE EM’ A LITTLE CRAZY!), angst + comfort (next chapter(s), infidelity, unrequited feelings yet also mutual pining (just read it like, idk idk I forgot how to do these),lmk if I missed anything!

* im back, ok not really this has been rotting in my drafts forever and I was reading it back and I was like damn I lowk cooked with this. It’s unfinished as of RN but this is only 1/3 of the fic im just splitting it up so u don’t have to wait months,,for it..like my other fics..DONT ASK ME ABT THOSE, cuz I don’t got an answer. IN THE MEAN TIME ENJOY THIS! <3

* mdni (but like if u do wtvr, nothing crazy happens in this chapter)

wc ~ 1.6k

pt. 2 here

Ellie Williams fucking hated you.

Surprisingly, she didn’t at first. In fact, she was in love with you, bordering infatuation.

She had seen you for the first time at the local bookstore before the semester started, you were flipping through a book about time and relativity with a concentrated look on your face. She smiled to herself when she saw you push up onto your toes to reach for another book but to no avail. She took this as an opportunity to walk up to you and reach over your head to grab it, making sure to flex her lean, tattooed arm before placing it in your hand.

Her jade eyes locked on yours and your face heated immediately, you mumbled a “Thank you.” Before scurrying past her to the checkout.

Imagine her surprise when on the first day of classes, she walks into her astrophysics course and sees you, doodling in your notebook with that same concentrated look on your face.

Of course, she sits next to you, flashing that charming smile that has sweat gathering at your hands. She tells you her name then asks for yours and learns about your major, favourite course, and how you’re staying in a little apartment just outside the campus before more students and your professor filed in. You didn’t know why but you just felt so comfortable telling her things, She laughed at your corny jokes and made even cornier ones, and she admired the doodles that covered your notebook and the little duck pen you used.

You didn’t want to speak too soon, but it was safe to say you were harbouring a tiny bit of a crush on her.

Ellie on the other hand, was completely ready to admit it. She felt her love for you grow each second she was around you. Your smile quite literally felt like the sun shining upon her, your laugh made her want to drop her studies of space to pick up stand-up comedy just so she could make it her job to make you laugh. In her eyes, everything you did was perfect. Her thoughts were completely consumed by you, you, you.

And for a few months, things were amazing! You had been introduced to Dina and Jesse and even spent Halloween hanging out with the trio watching horror movies and eating each other's weight in candy. When the holidays rolled around you and Ellie, along with the others, cozied up under some blankets and made fun of cheesy Hallmark movies while she tried her hardest not to interlock her hands with yours even after your pinky brushed against hers for the sixth time.

During finals, Ellie and you organized designated study days that usually ended in giggling at stupid memes on each other's phones or late-night food runs. Of course, there were lingering touches and flirtatious glances here and there but you were too shy to act on it and Ellie would rather die than make you uncomfortable so she kept you just at arm's length. Besides, she knew you were too timid to approach anyone else, so in a way she had you all to herself.

Then, you met him. Some motherfucker whose name she didn’t care to remember. However, she did remember the innate feeling of anger that surged through her body when you gushed to her about him and how he was a history major and the way his glasses framed his face perfectly and whatever the fuck else you found interesting about him.

She nodded and laughed and smiled along with you when you would drone on about him but would excuse herself to the bathroom to tend to the crescent-shaped wounds in her palms from digging her fingers into them so hard.

She tried her best to not show these negative emotions to you because she knew how much you didn’t like when she got mad but fuck was it hard. Especially that one night when you were out with him and you hadn’t replied to her texts in over 5 hours. Man did her drywall take some damage that night.

And when you finally did reply you had completely disregarded her message and went on to boast about the time you had and how gentlemanly he was. All she could do was reply with a dry “sounds like fun🙂” before she went back to throwing a tantrum around her room and tormenting that poor wall…she’d have to remember to buy some spackle before the end of the semester.

Then, there was the time she trekked over to your apartment with some pizza for a surprise movie night and saw the bouquet placed in front of your door. She set the box down to pick up the flowers and read who it was from, her body reacted before she could rethink. She tore the flowers from the beautifully wrapped packaging and stomped on them over and over and over until all that was left were broken stems and tattered petals.

Thankfully, you got home just a few minutes later and missed her outburst. You gasped when you saw the smashed flowers and asked her what had happened, she shrugged and lied easily, claiming it was like this when she got there. She let out a breath when you shook your head and sighed, saying it was probably your next-door neighbor who had always been a bit of a grouch.

She had genuinely thought she was doing a pretty good job of hiding her true feelings for both you and him but it was when you gleefully announced that he was officially your boyfriend she knew she was done for. You squealed and pulled her in for a hug but it felt like her heart had shriveled up into a clump of black coal and woosh like magic, her love for you had turned into something twisted, something possessive.

It was when you invited her over to your apartment to eat dinner with him that she had started considering the idea that you knew she had a crush on you and you were just fucking with her emotions for fun.

How could you start dating, let alone seeing some random ass motherfucker when she was right here! She knew she could treat you better than he could even dream of, she knew everything about you and she’d make it known to you how perfect she was for you, one way or another.

That night at dinner she sat uncomfortably as you fluttered around your tiny kitchen, adding last-minute touches to the spaghetti you made and despite the grumble in her tummy it felt like she had no appetite when she watched the hungry way he looked at you, as if you were a juicy steak and he was a starved wolf.

Once you were finished plating the food and placing it on the table you sat down eagerly and tried your best to mediate the obvious tension.

“Soo uh, Ellie, you’ve been really into watercolour recently right?” You beamed.

“Uh-huh.” She said dryly, twirling her spaghetti around her fork.

“Oh that’s cool, you know watercolour as an art form has been around since Egyptian times! It’s funny to think that like—Cleopatra was painting with water and grapes or something!” He spoke and you giggled like it was the funniest joke in the world. She shot you a look that said really? because she knows she could make a joke that was way funnier, and would expel your real laugh.

“That’s cool. You know how to shut the fuck up?” She mumbled into her bite of spaghetti.

“Sorry?” He asked and you gave her a sideways glance.

She smiled tightly and swallowed before answering, “Just said that’s cool!”

Dinner dragged on as he droned about the history of the Renaissance or fucking Christopher Columbus, she didn’t actually know, she tuned him out. After you cleared the plates, you ushered them into your cozy living room for a movie and when you excused yourself to the bathroom she plopped down on the couch next to him, subtly pulling out her switchblade.

“So, Kevin—“

“Actually my name—“

“I don’t give a fuck what your name is, matter fact I don’t give a fuck about you in general. What are your intentions with ★?”

The man tensed up as Ellie expertly spun the blade around in her fingers.

“Uh—I mean, she seems cool and dating her has been pr—“

“Cool?” Ellie scoffed, “She’s fucking perfect, and I hope you know whatever you have going on with her right now? It won’t last. Soon she’s gonna see you for the limp-ass motherfucker you are.”

He was taken aback, “What?—I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?”

“Your whole existence offends me.” She rasped, inching her blade closer to his neck. “She’s not meant to be with you.”

He furrowed his brows, “You like her, don’t you?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Before he could reply you were back from the bathroom and she slipped her blade back into her pocket and got up with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“What were you two talking about?” You asked as you grabbed a bag of chips from your small coffee table and tore into them.

“Oh you know, girl talk.” She smiled, digging her blunt nails into his shoulder. Translation: don’t say a fucking word.

You rolled your eyes playfully like you even had a clue of what was going on, “He’s not a girl, dumbass.”

She shrugged, stepping away from her previous seat to plop down on the other small sofa.

The rest of the night proceeded relatively smoothly, your boyfriend had been so shaken up by Ellie’s words that even with you sitting next to him he kept his distance with worried glances toward Ellie now and then. Ellie crunched on her popcorn happily and watched the movie with a satisfied smile and a chipper aura.

— ★

🤔 shall I put out the second part? only time (and interactivity! 💝 pls don’t let this flop) will tell!

[astxroiid]

empire state of mind // tasm!peter parker

❥ warm New York, cold nights, sushi, pining, heroes and their hopeless romanticism.

wc: 1.5k

navigation ✩ new york private life (I) ✩ manhattan longing (III)

The movie finishes with little to no emotional distractions from either of you. You look to Peter, "This was fun! We need to do it again sometime."

You smile but all Peter feels is dread. Are you sending him home? Already? He's had a great time but he doesn’t wanna go home so soon.

“Yeah… I had a lot of fun too,” he gives a downturned smile.

"How about you come back on Friday? I'm free all day after my class at 10."

Your voice drowns out and Peter feels a tingle up his back. The hairs on his arms stand on end. Something bad is happening...

He turns his head, realizing that whatever his Spidey-Sense is telling him is happening, is major. He tries to hide his worry as he stands, grabbing his bag from beside the door.

"H-hey! Where are you going?" the worry filling up your throat and spilling into your tone.

"Friday. After 10. Sounds amazing. I'll be there. Gotta go-" he doesn't stay to hear your response. Slamming the door behind him. You're left on the couch, in shock and feeling a little sad.

A few moments later, you see Spider Man swing by your window and off into town, towards the flashing red and blue lights.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

That was Tuesday, it's now Thursday night.

Sorry for dashing off last night, I forgot I had to pick some things up for my aunt!

Peter's message from Wednesday sits unopened on your phone. You have no idea how to respond.

♡.

Peter's all kinds of a mess right now. Terrified he messed things up by leaving so quickly the other night. Nervous that your date is canceled. He hasn't heard back from you since that night.

What if you're mad? Or now uninterested because of the way he ran out? What can I do to fix this? Peter's internal thoughts have been going haywire since Tuesday.

♡.

You phone buzzes as you begin to study for one of your exams. You decide to ignore it

Then it buzzes, and again.

You grab the device in anger with full intentions of putting it on do not disturb. Until you see the messages are from Peter.

Be ready tomorrow at 2.

I'm taking you somewhere nice to make up for my actions.

Is that sushi place still an option?

You smile and respond: Only if you show up on time :)

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Peter does show up on time, early actually. He takes you downtown, walking through little shops, trying to get the confidence to hold your hand.

Right now would be the perfect time.

The both of you walking along the sidewalk. Shoulder to shoulder.

Do it, Peter. You both think. And then, your thoughts separate.

I'm basically begging for it with the way I'm pushing my shoulder into his. From you.

What if she doesn't want that? And I ruin the whole moment? From Peter.

Fuck it. Peter steadies his breathing and goes to wrap his pinky around your index.

Just as his finger starts to brush against yours, you move your hand, running digits through your hair.

Peter curls and uncurls his fingers by his side.

"Ugh, this heatwave is fucking ridiculous," you hum, holding your hair into a temporary ponytail. Smiling at the boy.

To Peter Parker, you are the most stunning woman he's ever seen. And this moment encompasses that completely. Flyaway hairs framing your face, chest glowing from sweat, cheeks flushed from the heat, and smile beaming.

If only he could grow a pair and hold your hand.

"Yeah, tell me about it. The air conditioning in my apartment's broken. It's just me, a lonely fan, and a lot of open windows," he smiles at you, nervous of talking too much.

You can't help but feel your chest flutter every time he gives you that bashful smile. Something in the way his cheeks change color and his eyes dart around awkwardly keeping your heart pounding.

"Well. Anytime you feel yourself getting too hot, you can always come over," you wink and waltz into a nearby store, holding the door for him.

Peter feels his hands begin to shake, the temperature in his body rising and he suspects it's not from the weather. He follows you in.

You bounce around the shop happily, picking up the mini glass figures and examining each one, showing them all to Peter.

He gazes at you with a content smile on his face. He could get used to this.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

The hours come and go, but as five-o'clock draws near you and Peter begin to make your way towards the aforementioned sushi restaurant.

You step in and are in immediate awe. Neon red led's light up the dim rooms. Candles flicker on each table, illuminating the accompanying roses. The clack of your shoes reverberates off the black marble floor and falls in time with the soft jazz flowing through the building.

"Oh wow..." you breathe.

Peter walks behind you with a smug grin on his face. He aimed to impress you with this place. It seems he hit the bullseye.

"How many?" A very well dressed, middle aged woman asks, smiling.

"Just two." Peter answers.

"Follow me." The lady turns the corner after grabbing two menus.

After being sat and ordering drinks, Peter goes to look at his menu. You kick him (lightly) from under the table.

He jumps. "Ah! What was that for?!"

"You didn't tell me how nice this place was gonna be!" You whisper rather sharply.

"Well, I wanted to impress you. And make up for everything," Peter smiles.

"You can do all that without letting me dress like a slob to go to a place like this!"

"I think you look beautiful." Peter blurts. Eyes wide, face red.

"Oh." Your voice is just above a whisper. "Well.. uh, thank you," you smile at him and his whole world lights up.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

You exit the front doors of the restaurant, cold night air stinging your lungs.

"That was amazing, Peter. thank you so much," you stuff your hands into your pockets.

"Of course! I had to make everything up to you," he smiles down at you. Again, having the same battle of brain and heart over holding your hand, both of which being pushed further into your pockets.

"We definitely have to do this again," you begin to cross the street, assuming Peter follows behind you.

"Hey! y/n! Wait!" Peter's scared tone stops you in your tracks in the street as you turn to look at him.

"wha--" you hear a horn and can barely distinguish headlights from beside you before a pair of warm, rather strong, arms are embracing you - holding you an equally as strong body.

Your chest goes numb with adrenaline, face heating up from the proximity of Peter's face to yours.

"Oh my god. Are you okay?" His breath is heavy, warm chest pushing into yours and heart pounding.

"Uh... yeah... are you?"

"I'm fine. I think my ankle is bruised from the fall but it's alright, as long as you're okay."

Your chest continues fluttering but no longer from fear. The way Peter just smiled at you could light the whole world up.

"Here," you stand up, offering the boy a hand. "Let's go back to my place and assess the damage."

Peter takes your hand, following you back home.

You turn to him. "Thank you, by the way. You totally just saved my life."

⏪︎ peter's pov ⏪︎

Peter smiled, holding the door open as you exit the restaurant. He'd had such a great day with you so far, though he worried at every point he would make a wrong move and mess everything up.

He didn't.

"That was amazing, Peter. thank you so much."

This is it. Peter thinks. My best possible chance to grab her hand.

You stuff your hands into your pockets.

Shit.

"Of course! I had to make everything up to you," Peter smiles down at you.

"We definitely have to do this again."

Peter watches you step down from the sidewalk and onto the asphalt. His head snaps to the left, seeing headlights. A car. Moving fast. Right for you.

His whole body goes numb, heart pounding.

"Hey! y/n! Wait!"

You turn, freezing.

Peter feels a build of anxiety from his toes to his head. You're not moving.

The hairs on his arms stand up, and he's moving before his thoughts can catch up. And everything feels like it's in slow motion.

He lunges, wrapping his arms around you, pulling both of you back towards the sidewalk. Peter's ankle twists and he lands, back thudding against the pavement, holding you snug against him.

His breath is harsh.

"Oh my god. Are you okay?" Peter can feel your hearts pounding in the same, fear-driven tempo.

"Uh... yeah... are you?" Your eyes search his.

"I'm fine. I think my ankle is bruised from the fall but it's alright, as long as you're okay." And he means it.

"Here," you stand up, offering the him a hand. "Let's go back to my place and assess the damage."

Peter gladly takes your hand, also taking note of the smoothness, and the gentle way you lead him. He feels warmth slowly spread down his back, realizing his ankle might not be the only injury he sustained.

"Thank you, by the way. You totally just saved my life."

likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs are the desire. Remember they do more for authors and tumblrs than a like ever could.

[catsuro]

put a ring on it || rin itoshi

“no, i’m not letting you go out there,” 

itoshi rin grabs your wrist in an attempt to pull you to his side but you pout, slipping from his grasp once more. the entire night he’s been like this: following after you, heart dropping every time you pull away just for it to soar again when you look his way with a teasing smile afterwards. he chuckles at the thought; it’s reminiscent of the way he pined for you all those years ago before you were his. before he was yours. you’d have noticed the way his eyes linger on you, pupils blown out and filled with adoration if you weren’t such a goddamn lightweight. 

“but rin, it’s single ladies! ‘s my favourite, you know that!” 

rin tucks your hair behind your ears. “i know that, but you’re not a single lady.” he tries to reason. 

“mmm yeah, i guess not…” a dreamy faraway look makes its way onto your face as your mind wanders to the heartthrob of a man you’ve been dating for 2 years, completely unaware that said man is standing right in front of you with a deadpan look on his face. he thinks he’s won you over before your brows furrow and a pout pulls your lips downwards again.

“but i still wanna dance…” you interlock your fingers with rin’s as you look up into his eyes. you can never get tired of the intensity of his gaze; even after two years, the bright teal peeking under dark, heavy lashes still make you pause in your tracks. rin was always so, so handsome. unfairly so. 

“just this one song, kay? then we can go home and do anything you’d like.” with a doe-eyed look, your pinky slowly curls around his and rin sighs. 

what a minx, he thinks. he still remembers the first time you linked pinkies with him, when the two of you were walking under street lamps after you waited for him to finish practice. it was you that waited for him as he navigated through his own feelings at 19, not quite ready and still unsure of what to do. then on that fateful night the side of your hand brushed his, once, twice, and before he knew it, rin trailed after your touch after being deprived of it all his life. 

now here you are, still loving him despite everything. 

rin ruffles your hair. “yeah, yeah. now shoo,” 

you raised your fist in victory before making your way to the dance floor, but not without turning your head to poke your tongue out at him. and rin mouths a ‘lukewarm’ back as if you aren’t the only thing that matters to him in this party– the only thing capable of making him feel. with hands in his pocket and back leaning against the counter, rin stays to himself, entertained by the sight of you dancing your heart out. and when your favourite part comes on, your eyes search for him over the crowd, 

“if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it, 

don’t be mad once you see that he want it” 

rin nods as you sing the lyrics to him. he thinks you look the prettiest when you’re carefree like this, when you know that he’s there to protect you so you can feel safe.

“if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it, oh, oh oh,” 

his lips curved to form a small smile, mind drifting to the velvet box he’s skillfully hid on the top of his cupboard. oh, you have no idea. 

rin is like. the most attractive boy in blue lock easily🥱

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER FIVE: STRUCK A MATCH AND BLEW YOUR MIND

← prev chapter // next chapter →

✦ summary: in which you decide to reveal everything at brunch and chaos ensues. (wc: 8.3k+)

✦ warnings — ANGST!!, like this one is really angsty buckle up! argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of an ab*sive relationship, it is not detailed by they talk A LOT about it, mentions of bruises, some trauma/making fun of trauma, chrissy being super mean and omfg reader is PETTY, jealousy, pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!, steve is silly luv him

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader, eddie munson x chrissy cunningham, nancy wheeler x jonathan byers

✦ authors note — ngl this was fun to write LMAO but so hellish to edit JFC IM FINALLY DONE!! a few songs i listened to while i wrote this chapter are; liar by paramore, rwylm by taylors swift, and lover you should've come over by jeff buckley. need to add all those to the playlist asap !! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! and not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!!

series masterlist | series playlist

Counting cobblestones was your best distraction from Robin’s loud groans and the noises her dress made as she stretched it further and further. The sun streamed through the both of you, causing you to squeeze your eyes lightly. 

“Would you let my poor dress go?” You warned without turning to her, hand having a harsh grip on the gin bottle you were afraid of dropping. 

“I can’t, it’s itching!” She groaned, harshly scratching her chest. 

“Why’d you even ask to borrow a dress if you hated wearing them so much?” You threw her a look.

"I wanted to look presentable! But now, I think I’d rather wear a trash bag than ever be this uncomfortable again,” she said through gritted teeth, following you to the doorstep. 

You giggled, “But you know what?” you turned to her with a smile, “You look super pretty in that dress, Robs,” you winked teasingly, earning a groan from her as your hand shakily pressed onto the red doorbell, careful not to drop the bottle that was in your grip. 

A few rumbles were overheard before Steve swiftly opened the door, leaning against the doorframe as he gave the two of you a look, both of you in your sundress, while you held the bottle in your hand like a prized possession and Robin was still scratching her neck. “About damn time, I was starting to think you guys forgot where I lived!” He said teasingly, causing you to narrow your gaze. 

“Whatever happened to hello? Hi? I missed you, my bestest friend, Pinky!” You exaggerated dramatically, “Oh and you totally look so much better than that traitor sitting in my living room,” you spat snarkily, perfectly imitating a bitchy Steve. 

“You know about that?” Steve asked, and you were quick to nod. “Oh, thank fucking god! I did not want to be the one to tell you,” he sighed a breath of relief, a gesture you met with a roll of your eyes.

Steve quickly changed his tone to flattery. “Have I told you how much I missed you, sweetheart?” he said with exaggerated sweetness, “Oh, and you look so pretty!” He continued with an amplified smile, “so much better than that traitor sitting in my living room.” He hummed, covering his mouth sideways, so childlike that it had you giggling. 

Amid the banter, Robin, still visibly uncomfortable, impatiently broke in. “Okay, doofus, are you gonna let us in?” She groaned and brushed past the two of you, making her way to the familiar kitchen.

“Hello to you too, Rob!” Steve responded with a chuckle, before closing the door and guiding you both to the cozy kitchen.

Once inside, Steve couldn't help but ask, “So, what have you got there, P?” His eyes locked on the gin bottle in your hand.

With an excited gleam in your eye, you presented it proudly. “A party gift,” you said with a grin, shaking it gently in front of Steve's face before he took it from you.

"For breakfast?" Steve asked with a huff and a raised eyebrow. 

“We’re going to make breakfast martinis!” Robin chimed in excitedly, her eyes lighting up as she grabbed two elegant cocktail glasses she'd found in Steve's well-stocked kitchen. The crystal-clear glasses made a chiming sound when she set them down harshly.

“You guys have a problem,” he joked, leaning against the kitchen counter while he eyed the way you hurriedly searched for something in his fridge.

“Says the guy who used to shotgun five beers like it was nothing,” you scoffed behind the fridge door. A shushed ‘Yes!’ escaped from your lips when you acquired lemons and a bottle of orange juice from the fridge's depths. 

“And that is not how you make a breakfast martini,” he playfully groaned, stealing your ingredients away from you. Your pout was met with a playful eye roll.

“Oh-kay, fancy pants,” Robin mocked, making you snort with her easy banter.

Steve couldn't help but ask, genuine concern etching his brow, “You sure you’re okay?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, but they both eyed your expressions curiously, almost as if you were a ticking time bomb.

“Oh, c'mon, you two!” You brushed it off, trying to shift the focus.

“We’re just worried about you is all,” Robin added, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Her fingertips were warm against your skin, concern washed over her face.

“It’s perfectly normal to not be okay, you know,” Steve reassured you, his voice gentle. “I mean, it must be hard coming back here after everything-”

“Well, I’m fine, Steve,” you replied a bit more sharply than you intended, guilt settling in your stomach quickly. Steve's comforting stance somehow allowed your emotions to spill out more freely.

“It’s-it’s just such a fucking gut punch that he brought her here, you know?” The frustration in your voice was palpable, tone heavy with pain.

“I know, I know,” Steve empathized, both of them stood by your side, hands resting on both of your shoulders, comedically protective. 

“Want me to beat him up?” Steve said with a serious gaze, hands forming into fists as he playfully punched the air. You and Robin erupted in giggles, as Robin elbowed him playfully, “I think she needs someone better at fights to protect her, you know?” She narrowed her gaze.

“Ow!” Steve dramatically gasped, “Rude!” He pouted. “Thank you, my knight in shining armor, but I’ll be fine." You snatched the gin bottle, moving on to the task at hand – preparing the breakfast martinis as you poured the clear liquid into the glass.

“I’m more worried about your health there,” he hummed, pointing toward the generous amount of gin you poured into your glass. 

“Jesus, when did you become such a priss, King Steve?” Robin mocked further before he gave the two of you a look. 

“I don’t like you two together,” he huffed, hand gesturing between the two of you dramatically, “so mean,” he said, tone exaggerated, and slumped playfully, pretending to be defeated.

“Aww, come on, Stevie,” you pouted, “I missed ya,” with a hum, you gave him a quick, affectionate squeeze in a tight hug. Steve responded with a theatrical cough causing you to roll your eyes.

“What have you been up to? I listened to Robin’s work crush, the whole fucking way…” You enunciated dramatically, drawing a teasing reaction from Robin, who exclaimed, “Hey!” in response.

“Can you believe her name is Lily? Lily… that’s so pretty, she’s so pretty… Like a flower. I mean her hair is so soft, I-I mean it seems soft I never like touched it or anything, that would be creepy-” You mimicked Robin and her fast-talking, and she stuck her tongue at you childishly. 

“Is doofusness contagious? I feel like you’ve been standing too close to Steve.” She mocked with a smirk, taking a jab at both of you, but more so Steve as she leaned against the counter cooly. 

“You’re quick with the comebacks today, Rob, jeez!” You praised, turning back to Steve who was disregarding the two of you with a shake of his head.  

Robin winked at you, before snatching the bottle from Steve’s hand to make herself a drink. “So… Stevie, what about you?” You hummed, leaning in with a curious expression.

“How’s work?”

A proud smile spread across Steve's face as he said, “I got a promotion.”

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, genuine excitement dancing in your eyes. “Steve, that’s amazing!” His frown had your brows furrowed, “why are you not excited?” You pouted.

“You remember Adam?” He huffed, “the guy from accounting?” Your brows quirked up in intrigue, Steve was quick to nod. 

“He turned out to be a douche,” with a scoff, he leaned further on the courter, his muscles flexing with irritation. “What?” You asked with a frown, “but you said it was getting serious?” 

“Yeah, I guess I was wrong, I dunno,” He shrugged, wanting to seem nonchalant but it was obvious he was hurt. 

Your face fell quickly, “well, what about that other girl you met in the grocery store?” You asked hopefully, nudging him slightly. 

“Didn’t even call me back,” Steve huffed, and you couldn't help but pout at his apparent string of bad luck.

“Stevie…”

“I dunno what’s wrong with me,” Steve admitted, his voice laced with self-doubt.

Your heart ached at his insecurity, and you couldn't help but reassure him. “What? Nothing is wrong with you! Are you kidding?”

“These people sound like the problem to me!” You exclaimed, “I mean look at you! A nice boy with a good job, and that hair? So soft!” you giggled, hand ruffling with his perfectly made hair, which he would usually yell at you for, but now he just looked at you with the most puppy dog eyes. “Harrington, you’re the whole goddamn package.” 

“You mean that?” He sounded so insecure, and innocent, that your stomach was quick to drop, knowing that Steve doubted himself like this. 

“Of course!” you reassured with a pat on his back, “fuck both of them! I’ll get you something to drink.” You winked.

“Please let me make it,” Steve replied with a hint of mischief, narrowing his gaze playfully. “In fact, I’ll make both of you a proper drink,” he emphasized.

“Fine, pretty boy.”

“Rob,” he called out to her with a tilt of his head  “Orange liquor, please?”

Robin looked at him with a puzzled look, “am I supposed to know where that is?” 

A tad exasperated, Steve pointed to a spot on the counter. “Right there on the counter, Rob. Jesus, you never let me look cool.”

“Don’t worry pretty boy, you don’t need her to make you look cool.” You winked teasingly, hand gently placed on Steve’s shoulder to give him a reassuring squeeze, causing Robin to snort behind you as you elbowed harshly to shush her. 

Of fucking course, that’s when they decided to come into the kitchen, you could hear Chrissy’s annoying giggles before you saw her, and Eddie’s face dropped the second he saw the two of you. And all you could focus on was how close they were standing next to each other, Chrissy’s shoulder brushing against his.

You felt sick again. 

Eddie cleared his throat, the laughter in the room dying with it. His sour face grew hot because he heard your compliments to Steve, saw the smiles you gave him, and your hand on his arm. 

Insecure thoughts were quick to race through his mind, why was your hand on his arm? And pretty boy? You used to call him that. And him only.

His thoughts should have driven him closer to Chrissy, to make you more jealous, to have that satisfaction, but all it did was leave a bitter taste in his mouth, another lump he couldn’t swallow, and he stepped a bit back away from her unintentionally. 

“Hi!” Chrissy beamed, and your eyes squinted with her voice, the urge to roll your eyes, and confront her right now was strong. 

None of you answered her, it was awkward, pretty fucking awkward that even Robin’s cheshire cat smile didn’t save the room, Eddie speaking up did. 

“You- uh got any water, Harrington?” It was supposed to be a joke, but the way it rolled out of his jealous lips made him sound bitter as if he was pissed at him. 

Steve, taken aback by Eddie's sudden change in attitude, raised an eyebrow and responded, “Yeah?” He pointed toward the refrigerator, offering some bottled water.

Annoyance seeped through you as they stood there, prickling like a knife through your skin, your gaze narrowed as you tried to avoid looking at them, but it was awkward, so fucking awkward. 

Eddie was quick to take a sip from the bottle, the entire room filled with silence as his gaze never faltered on you, “you got any notes for me?” Eddie said cooly, leaning onto the fridge, Chrissy by his side. 

It was aimed at you, and you totally would’ve missed it if every eye in the room didn’t turn to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, trying to deflect the attention. "Huh?"

Eddie’s demeanor changed at your confusion, almost like his confidence wore off the second he realized you might not have read it. “The note, you said you’d review it?” His voice held emotion, you could hear it, a pang of insecurity along with betrayal, but you didn’t want to talk about this, and you didn’t want to talk about it in front of her.

“No.” You lied through your teeth, swallowing the lump in your throat when you finally looked at him, like really, really looked at him. 

He looked tired, with dark circles surrounding his eyes, hair even messier than usual, his lips cracked, and you could smell the nicotine off of him, even though he was halfway across the room. 

And there was a slight shift in the way he held himself when you told him you didn’t read it, his tongue rolling inside of his cheek in a sour manner before he straightened up. “Typical,” he spat, he didn’t mean to, it was more supposed to be his inner voice, but he couldn’t help himself.  He couldn’t help the way he felt insecure when he saw you standing next to Steve, and he couldn’t help but show how much you not reading the note shattered him.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, the air in the room getting tense, Steve and Robin pretending to be distracted while continuing to make a drink, Robin’s clumsy clatters serving as a noisy backdrop. 

“What does that mean?” You asked calmly, maybe it wasn’t as calm as you intended it to be, but he really had the nerve to come for you when he didn’t even realize he was the one who was in the wrong. 

“It means that I wouldn’t have expected anything more from you,” he spat out like he was your enemy, and it hurt, it fucking hurt that he saw you as someone that careless as if you didn’t read the entire note the whole night, as if you didn’t fall asleep to Aurora playing in the background. As if he knew anything. 

Your anger flared, and you couldn’t help yourself, “What the actual fuck is your problem?” Your voice raised, and you straightened yourself, taking a step closer to them as both Robin and Steve’s heads snapped toward your direction, wanting to interrupt, but Chrissy got to it first. 

“Okay, I don’t think we should-” Her screeching voice grated your ears.

With that, your attention turned to her, head cocking in a sharp gesture of anger, “stay out of it,” you warned, both Steve and Robin watched you in full force, almost looking like they wanted to cheer you on. 

Chrissy turned to Eddie as if she was asking for him to say something back to you, but Eddie’s gaze remained on you, unable to process anything else. 

She took a step closer, her head slightly tilted to the side, “Oh, come on, take a chill pill, Pinky,” she gave you a smile, it wasn’t warming, it wasn’t genuine, you could see right through her. This was her catty smile. 

And it almost triggered something in you—the way her head tilted, her hand on her hips, the ‘take a chill pill’ line, it was something you recognized all too well. 

The same phrase, that same annoying octave, and the same hand on her hips when she first “accidentally” started the rumor that you had kissed Eddie—granted, it wasn’t a rumor. It was true, you had kissed Eddie while you and Billy were on a break, but you told her that in confidence, and she broke your trust. Yet, like an idiot, you believed her when she said it was an accident, and that someone must have overheard the two of you talking.

Once Billy found out about the rumors, he barely let you breathe, not only did the fights get more amped up and violent, but he also isolated you from your friends, and mostly Eddie. You didn’t put the pieces together that Chrissy caused the rumor until much later.

Then, at Steve’s party, the same smile, and that same phrase, like you hadn’t caught her with Billy in the bathroom minutes ago. 

And now, she was doing it again, you assumed it was on purpose, or at least it all felt like it was on purpose. And it boggled your mind how quickly she made Eddie believe she was a nice person. Because she wasn’t, and even if she was, your friendship was beyond salvageable now. 

You decided to take a step closer to her, Steve and Robin both jumping on their feet, afraid of what might happen. But you had no intention of doing anything, or even saying anything to her. 

Because you had decided your mind. 

If Chrissy wanted to play that game, then so fucking be it. 

When the bell rang once again, Steve was quick to rise, “Must be Nancy and Jonathan!” he announced, voice almost cracking from the tension in the room. He was quick to scurry off, inviting the main couple inside. You turned to Robin swiftly, almost ruining her balance with the way you snatched the drink from her hand, you took a big sip, downing the contents in one go. Then, without acknowledging either of them, you headed inside, leaving behind the simmering tension in the kitchen. 

-

You were all seated, Nancy and Jonathan side by side, next to them Steve and Robin, and on their right, were the rest of the band, followed by Chrissy, Eddie, and you. 

The table itself looked perfect, you could see that Steve went all out for it, adorning the table with an array of breakfast foods. Plates piled high with pastries, fruit, muffins, and of course, Steve’s special pancakes. He never stopped raving about them, and the second he sat down, he grabbed a generous amount of it to his plate. A pot of steaming coffee sat right by the end of the table, along with your gin bottle sitting right next to it, which was what you had been preferring, because everything was fucking awkward.

You were sipping on your drink like it was your lifeline, Steve and Robin watched you with a concerned gaze, whispering back and forth. 

Jeff, Gareth, and the new drummer you hadn’t met before, Nathan were laughing obnoxiously, and you almost felt like it was all aimed at you.

Maybe you were paranoid, but you assumed they wouldn’t be keen on you, knowing that after L.A. all they saw was a mess of Eddie who wrote nothing but sad songs, which all the lyrics seemed to point in your direction.

“How is pre-wedding life going for the love birds?” Eddie hummed seemingly more content than before.

Jonathan and Nancy both let out an exasperated sigh, giggling like kids after they realized how in sync they were, “pretty fuckin’ tiring,” Jonathan replied, taking a mouthful bite from the pastry he had on his plate.

“You guys are still on for tonight, right? I promised the guy at Hideout at least two songs from Corroded Coffin,” he emphasized the band's name mockingly. 

“‘Course, dude, whatever you need,” Eddie gave him a small smile, a wink thrown in for good measure.

Unintentionally, Eddie shifted his gaze towards you, observing the way you seemed to shrink into your seat, fingers nervously tracing the rim of your drink. Chrissy's eyes followed him, her gaze narrowing as she caught onto the subtle shift in his attention. He leaned closer to you, so close that his hand almost brushed against yours that sat on the table.

Eddie opened his pursed lips, about to utter something, but Chrissy couldn’t let that happen.

“This feels weird,” She hummed, “the last time we were all here, this table was for beer pong.” She giggled, and slightly nudged Eddie.

Eddie gave her a tight-lipped smile before his attention was quick to turn back to you, but you ignored his burning gaze.

“Steve that was a sick party,” She exclaimed excitedly, trying to gather Steve’s attention who was busy trying to locate the syrup for his awaiting pancakes. 

Your head almost popped up simultaneously at the mention… the same party. The same fucking party she tried to kiss Billy. The same fucking party she humiliated you with her words. The same party she made fun of…

“Huh?” He asked mindlessly, almost knocking over Robin’s drink with how fast he was looking for the syrup, completely ignoring Chrissy. “Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed, earning furrowed brows from Robin, who just shook her head at him. 

“I forgot the syrup!” He groaned, getting up from his seat. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Robin mocked, as Steve threw her a glare before making a hasty retreat to the kitchen with a string of curses leaving his lips, while the rest of the table tried to soak in the awkwardness.

Gareth was quick to chime in though, “oh, yeah!” he quipped, remembering the party. “You went to that party?” Jeff asked with his brows pinched together in confusion. 

“Yeah, Eddie was selling so he brought me along,” he explained, grabbing Eddie by the shoulder with a chuckle. 

“Oh god, that was the same party you beat Billy to a fuckin’ pulp, dude!” His chuckle grew louder, hand on his stomach.

You and Eddie tensed at the mention of it, while you enjoyed Billy finally not being able to get away with his violence, none of that memory was amusing to you in the slightest. And nor was it to Eddie. 

Gareth turned to Chrissy when his laughter finally died off, “Hey, didn’t we play beer pong together?” 

Chrissy's face lit up with a nostalgic giggle, “oh my god, we totally did!” She exclaimed excitedly, but your gaze remained on your empty plate, unable to contain the rage bubbling inside of you. 

"It was so funny," she began, "Gareth kept missing it, but..."

Your patience reached its limit, and you couldn't help but interject. "When was that?" Your voice tinged with an edge, cut through the chatter at the table.

Multiple heads were quick to turn to you, and Chrissy probably had no clue what you were up to.  Maybe this was a low blow, maybe you shouldn’t tell in front of everyone.

“We were pretty drunk, I don’t remember-” She said meekly, but you interrupted, again.

“I was at that party too, but I must have missed that!” You continued, your words sharp and calculated. And feigning a faux sense of intrigue. Maybe it was cruel, but this was the perfect setup, and Chrissy was falling right into your trap. 

Before she could respond, you pressed on, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “oooh! Was that before or after you tried to hook up with my ex-boyfriend?” Your words hung heavy in the air, the whole table quick to fall silent. 

Almost all eyes except Chrissy turned to you, Robin almost choked on the strong drink Steve made for her. Gareth, Jeff, and Nathan all stopped their inner chatter, while Jonathan and Nancy’s eyes widened in unison.

As the tension continued to mount, Jonathan quickly turned to Nancy, leaning towards her, “Should I do something-” He whispered to Nancy, who didn’t dare to move, watching everything unravel before her. 

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, “she deserves this confrontation. And, I am tired of Eddie pestering us about this; he deserves to know.” Nancy shrugged, Jonathan reluctantly raised his hands in agreement, almost like he was surrendering to her reasonings. 

Chrissy stood there, her voice caught in her throat, mouth agape, unable to utter a coherent response. She was frozen, eyes wide with shock, while her fingers nervously fumbled with the napkin on the table, struggling to find the words to defend herself.

You reacted with a bitter, mocking disbelief, shaking your head slowly. “Shit, or was it after you blamed me for what Billy did to me? You know, making fun of my bruises and stuff?”

“What?” Eddie’s face scrunched in disgust, his eyes flickering to Chrissy, who seemed to shrink under the weight of what she did. Jonathan and Nancy watched with their mouth almost hanging open. Robin had a smug smile on her face, she bit her lip in excitement while watching everything unfold. It was like all of them had been waiting for this confrontation. 

Poor Jeff, Gareth, and Nathan just watched with a confused look, not knowing anything about the deep history between the three of you. 

Chrissy stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but once again you didn’t let her. “No, no, wait!” You were relentless, sarcasm cutting through your tone as you playfully hit your forehead in a mocking gesture. “I think it was after you made fun of my parents leaving me, what did you say they were?” You mocked a pensive expression, a dangerous glint in your eyes, “Junkies?” Your gaze narrowed, Chrissy’s stammering continued, and she turned to Eddie desperately, while her vision was getting blurry. 

The room had grown oppressively tense, no one dared to speak, Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy all wore disgusted faces, along with the surprise of you laying everything out on the table, literally. Jeff and Gareth silently oofed, even though they didn’t know anything, they knew that what Chrissy did was fucked up. 

Eddie struggled to process it, your words, the realization that Chrissy had done something worse other than trying to hook up with Billy was hard to sink into his skin.  “What the fuck are you talking about?” He repeated, his entire world almost shattering dramatically.

“Oh, didn’t your sweet, sweet Chrissy mention all that?” You weren’t holding back, every bitterness, every ugliness, you were ready to spit it all at him and Chrissy.  

And you wished it would give you satisfaction, you wished it would make you feel better.

But it didn’t. None of it felt good, none of it filled the void inside of you. None of it helped you get over the betrayal that unfolded right between your eyes. 

None of it helped you get over the cruel look Chrissy gave you when she made fun of your traumas, none of it helped you get over the fact that Eddie told you that you ruined his life, and none of it helped the way your lip trembled when you saw the two of them kiss. 

“Okay, I’ve got the syrup!” Steve chimed in, unaware of everything that had just transpired in the room, his brows furrowed when he noticed the tension, every eye on the table turned to him, except for you, Chrissy, and Eddie. 

Chrissy's desperate gaze fixed on Eddie, pleading for some form of understanding or forgiveness, but his gaze remained unwaveringly locked on you, filled with guilt. Your own eyes were cast downward, remaining on your lap, while you tried hard to fight back the tears. 

Because no matter what, Chrissy betrayed your trust, you trusted her enough to tell her what Billy did to you, and instead of getting help, she tried to kiss him, or actually did kiss him, you never found out the truth—both of them told you a different version of the story. 

She made fun of your parents leaving you. She blamed you for the things Billy did. Like it meant nothing to her. Like you meant nothing to her. 

“Did I just interrupt something-” Steve was quickly hushed by Robin, who pulled him to his seat quickly. “Pinky is confronting Chrissy!” 

“What? Now?” He whisper-yelled, putting down the syrup jar on the table, eyeing the tension between the three of you. Robin nodded, “Eddie’s trying to process all of it, and Chrissy looks like she’s about to burst into tears,” she added. 

“He didn’t know?” Steve’s brows furrowed, “Nuh-uh, don’t you remember how P made us all promise not to tell anyone? You know how she is with her personal stuff,” the two of them whispered back and forth, earning a glare from Nancy that shut both of them up. 

Eddie’s expressions were unreadable, mixed with every possible emotion as he drew a deep breath in a feeble attempt to make sense of everything. “W-what exactly happened?” With uncertainty in his eyes, he faced you, he wanted to know everything. But you didn’t dare to look at him, crossing your arms defensively against your chest—you were in no way ready to tell him anything. 

“I-I wanted to apologize to you, and I wanted to..” Chrissy’s voice trembled, she seemed apologetic, eyes glistening with guilt, but it truly meant nothing to you.

“Shit, you really don’t fucking get it, do you?” You couldn’t help but click your tongue in annoyance, hand on your forehead in disbelief. “This isn’t about your stupid apology.” 

“You knew them, Chrissy,” you continued, your voice quivering with raw emotion, “you were there with me when they left, you fucking comforted me when I cried…” All of it felt too raw for you, your chest tightening the more you remembered it all, “and then you used it as a punch line for a stupid joke, to hurt me.” 

You took a deep breath in an attempt to continue, your heart tightening the more you spoke. “You knew what Billy did to me, you saw the bruises, and you acted like none of that mattered when you kissed him!” 

“I d-didn’t—it was a misunderstanding!” She tried to defend herself, but you didn’t care. 

You were quick to get up from your seat, feeling suffocated. “God, i-it really hurt, it did.” you confessed, your voice trembling as you blinked away the tears. “But it doesn’t anymore because you were dead to me the second you uttered those words.” Your lips trembled.

“And you,” with a tone filled with bitterness, you finally turned to Eddie, really looking at him for the first time. His eyes were filled with regret, brows scrunched up together with guilt. Your hand pointed toward him accusingly, “fucking date her for all I care, you two deserve each other.” 

You stormed off to the backyard quickly, not being able to hold back the tears anymore. Eddie got up the second you did, pleading for your name. The room fell silent again, and just as he was about to chase you, Steve was quick to rise to his feet, intervening with a grab of Eddie’s arm. 

“Give her some time,” Steve’s harsh hold on Eddie’s arm had everyone eyeing them.

“Excuse me?” Eddie retorted, his gaze dangerously fiery. 

“She needs some time, Eddie.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie warned, gaze dropping to the hold that Steve had on him, his anger simmering just below the surface.

“Man, I’m trying to be helpful right now, you’re the last person she wants to fucking see,” Steve spat, gaze narrowing as he looked at him with disgust. 

That was the breaking point for Eddie, he took a step closer, his anger ready to spill over to Steve, which wasn’t fair, but it had been building up the second he saw how close the two of you were. The smiles you threw at him. The compliments. It was stupid and so unlike him, but with everything, he couldn’t afford to lose you, not again.

And it looked like he just did. 

“That’s not any of your fuckin’ business, Harrington-”

Before the situation could escalate further, Jonathan intervened, stepping between the two of them. “Alright, alright!” he gently defused the tension. “Steve, Rob, go see if she’s okay,” He demanded, the two of them looking at him dumbfoundedly, “Go!” he exclaimed, and Robin was quick to rise from her seat, dragging Steve away from Eddie who was still throwing daggers with his looks toward Steve.

“And Eddie, I need to talk to you for a second.” Jonathan caught Eddie’s attention and tugged at his jacket to the side while Nancy quickly excused herself from the awkward table before the three of them huddled in the corner. 

Eddie was quick to shake off the hold Jonathan had on him, his anger still uncontained. “What?” His voice was raised. 

“You need to calm the fuck down,” Jonathan warned. 

“Why didn’t you guys-” He took a deep breath. “How could you guys not fuckin’ tell me?” His voice was desperate. 

“She told us not to!” Nancy added. “God, I’m such a fuckin’ idiot.” He exasperated.

Jonathan agreed with a nod, “That, you are.” Earning a glare from Eddie, he continued, “I’m sorry dude, but it’s true, you shouldn’t have paraded her around in front of Pinky.” 

“How was I supposed to know?!?”

“You weren’t,” Nancy sighed, “but you knew what happened with Billy, and that should’ve been enough, Eddie.”

Eddie shook his head to disagree, his disheveled hair hung over his forehead, barely covering his pained eyes. “If I knew, if I fucking knew for a second that s-she made fun of, shit-” His voice cracked, struggling to find the right words. The vivid recollections of your pain etched lines of hurt across his face. “God, I saw how much her parents leaving crushed her, Nance. I was there, I comforted her.” Nancy could sense the hurt in his voice. 

“Every time she came over to a Munson dinner, every time Wayne told her she was family, every time Wayne did somethin’ for her... I-I could just see how much she appreciated it. Wayne, and me…” 

His voice continued to tremble, and tears welled up in his eyes. “And I saw those goddamn bruises that fucking asshole left, s-she was shaking, Jon- I-I knew how hard it was for her, if I…”  He took a shuddering breath, voice still shaky, and gaze glistening with unshed tears.

His hands moved in agitation, desperate to defend himself and express his guilt. “If I… If I knew for one goddamn second that she made fun of that, I w-would’ve never!” He punctuated his words desperately, hands rubbing against his face in disbelief.

“I know, I know,” Nancy reassured with a soothing voice, both she and Jonathan reached out to rub his back comfortingly. “I think she’s just upset right now, Ed.” Jonathan spoke up.

“I mean can you really blame her? I know you didn’t know anything, but the moment she came back to the town, the first thing she saw was you and Chrissy kissing… it was probably a tough pill for her to swallow.” Nancy mumbled.

Jonathan was quick to add with a soft-spoken plea, “Give her some time, and then you can apologize, okay?” He nodded, trying to take all of the information he acquired in the last five minutes

“I also think you have someone else you need to talk to,” Jonathan whispered, gaze pointing toward Chrissy who had been itching to speak to him, her gaze repeatedly flickering in their direction.

And once Chrissy realized Eddie looking back at her, she was quick to get up from her seat, shoulders slumped as she approached him. She eyed the way Nancy and Jonathan gave Eddie a slight smile and a nudge on his shoulder before they left. 

Her eyes were glossy, face red. “C-can I talk to you?” She stammered.

“Y-yeah,” he conceded, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, not able to help himself when his head turned toward the sliding door, wanting to get a glimpse of you but blocked by the figure of Steve.

“I-I should’ve told you what I did.” Chrissy sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat as she took a deep breath.

“I-I’m sorry. I just…” She recollected her thoughts, “you were like the only one who didn’t know and it just… It felt nice to hang out with someone who didn’t shun me out.”

“Steve, Nancy, Jonathan… even Robin, the second they learned what I said, they didn’t even look me in the face!” Her voice cracked.

“And I know I probably deserved that but that was so long ago and I…” Her gaze fell toward the floor, she felt embarrassed, she should’ve never done that to you, and she did have her reasons, but she also knew none of them would ever justify what she said. 

“I was just miserable and bitter and P-pinky didn’t deserve any of that. I know that but…” Her head snapped up, her tearful eyes locking with Eddie’s, “I really had fun with you these past couple of days and…”

Eddie was quick to interrupt her, shaking his head, “Chrissy…” He sighed, fingers rubbing his temples in an attempt to comfort himself, it was too much, everything was too much.

And he didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to talk to her, he didn’t want some pep talk from Jonathan and Nancy, he only wanted you.

He wanted to tell you how sorry he was, and how much of an idiot he was. Even though he didn’t know anything. But he should’ve known better. He should have.

And he felt the guilt gnawing at him, consuming him from the inside.

“I really felt like we had something-” Eddie was quick to dismiss her.

“Chrissy, I’m sorry I should have never done this, I-I’m such a fucking coward.”

“W-what?” Chrissy asked, her voice breaking again, tears brimming in her eyes. “I should’ve known,” she sighed, shutting her eyes briefly to avoid the tears.

Eddie let out a confused hum. “I-I mean I kind of did, I saw the way you looked at her, the way your eyes lit up unintentionally whenever someone mentioned her. The smile you had when she talked to you… You were never ever like that with me, not even for a second.”

It took Eddie a few seconds to process that, he knew he should’ve never done anything with Chrissy, he never should’ve tried to defend her to you, he should’ve listened to you. He was an idiot. 

Chrissy was right. It was you. It had always been you. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t fuckin’ mean to but I think like back in my mind, I did all of this to make myself feel better because I knew she might be coming back and I just wanted to make myself feel like I got over her. I-I know that’s incredibly shitty and I’m sorry-” 

“So you just used me?” She spat, feeling like a pawn in a game she did not want to be a part of.

“N-no! That’s not what I tried to do! I just… I just, I’m sorry that it came off that way… I thought I could you know… do this,” he mumbled, pointing toward the space between them.

“I can’t and I never should have tried.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” He could see Chrissy’s hurt turn quickly to anger, and maybe five minutes ago, when he didn’t know what she did to you, he would’ve apologized for being a dick, and for doing something as stupid as this. But he couldn’t be apologetic to her, not anymore.

“I-it means it’s always been her, and it’s always going to be her, Chrissy,” Eddie admitted, something that he should’ve realized a long time ago, and Chrissy wanted to laugh at that.

Of course, it was going to be you, it was always you. 

Billy, and now Eddie. No matter what she did, she could never compete with you. You didn’t even have to do anything and they would devote their whole fucking life to you. 

And it pissed her off, made her bitter. Which wasn’t fair, which didn’t make what she ever did or said okay. But her mind justified it. Fueled her to say those things to you. 

Eddie, struggling to process Chrissy's words, stammered in disbelief, “I can’t even look at you after what she told me. How could you be so cruel?” The way he viewed Chrissy changed in a matter of seconds, disgust overtaking his senses. 

But Chrissy found that amusing. She chuckled bitterly, shaking her head. “Me?” She pointed an accusatory finger at him, “You just admitted that you basically used me. Jesus Christ, you’re an asshole.”

“And I’m really sorry about that,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity, “that isn’t what I intended to-“

Chrissy, still seething with anger and disappointment, didn't give him a chance to finish. “Save it.” She rolled her eyes, hand defensively pointing toward him.

Gareth, Jeff, and Nathan suddenly appeared, intruding awkwardly into the already strained atmosphere between the two of them. Gareth was the first to speak up, attempting to break the tension. He cleared his throat and said, “Uhhh- hey man, we’re gonna take off.”

“You comin’?” Jeff inquired, standing beside Gareth.

 “Uhhh, no? I need to talk to her.” Eddie replied firmly.

“Seriously? You’re still running after her?” Gareth bit back, Jeff tried to elbow him to shut him up but it was no use.

“I’ll see you guys tonight.” He said through gritted teeth, not in the mood to deal with Gareth’s hatred for you.

“Chrissy, you comin’?” Gareth was quick to turn to her, and she nodded quickly, before throwing a harsh look at Eddie.

“Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath, leaving off with them.

“I did deserve that.” Eddie sighed, mumbling to himself before he finally decided to meet all of you in the backyard.

-

You leaned back on your seat, eyes still glossy but you looked happier, a giggle leaving your lips at something Steve said. 

And it hurt Eddie to see that, it hurt because your teary eyes were all because of him, and you were giggling only because of Steve.

It wasn’t like this before, he was the one who always made you happy, he never made you cry, he never uttered horrible words to you like he did yesterday. 

Was it all doomed? 

Did the chance for the two of you pass by and both of you were too much of an idiot to realize it? Did he manage to fuck everything up with just barely two days? 

Your laughter died down the second your gaze met his, breath getting hitched in your throat. He looked guilty, those shaggy bangs falling messily on his forehead, hand stuffed into the back of his black jeans.  Walking over to you with such shyness that your gaze softened, you didn’t want to be like this with him. It was never like this before. 

But it hurt so much that you could feel your chest swell with the pain. His words, Chrissy… you couldn’t pretend like none of it happened anymore. 

“Can we talk?” 

“Dude, I just told you-” Steve was quick to interject, and it brought warmth in your stomach, the feeling nicely seeping into your skin, knowing that your friends truly cared about you, and how much they would do to protect you. 

They had done it with Chrissy, you never asked them to do anything, but the second you told any of them what happened, they didn’t even throw her a second glance when they ran into her ever again in this damned town. 

And it meant so much, knowing that there were people you could count on, a sense of protectiveness and security that your parents never provided for you. But you liked that, you liked having them, an untraditional way of family, but your family regardless. 

“Harrington, will you fuckin’-”

You interrupted both of their stupid dick-measuring competition with a sigh, “It’s okay, Steve,” you murmured, throwing him a smile before squeezing his arm gently. “We do need to talk,” you nodded off toward Eddie, dragging him off to the other side gently, away from all of them.

“Look, fuck- I’m so sorry, okay?” He started, his voice apologetic.

“Eddie, please-”

“No, no, let me talk, please,” he breathed out, desperate, his gaze mirroring yours, fingers brushing on your arms, gentle, pleading. 

“I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot, I’m the biggest fucking idiot in the whole world.”

“Y-you never ruined my life, okay? You could never, even if you tried your hardest. Even if you did the worst possible thing to me. I could never see you like that. I could never see the worst of you.”

“I-I shouldn’t have done what I did, I shouldn’t have brought her everywhere, and I shouldn’t have tried to defend her to you.”

“E-eddie, stop” you gulped, interrupting him, “You-you’re confusing the fuck out of me… You tell me I ruined your life, and then I read those stupid notes-”

“You read them?” Eddie’s brows raised in surprise, an idiotic grin curling on his lips.

“Of course I did.” You muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“But you said-” 

“I wanted to piss you off,” you admitted with a meek voice. 

“And what did you think?” He asked, hopeful, still feeling nervous with the way you were so calm, he knew nothing good was gonna come out of this. 

“That I-I can’t do this.” 

“I mean, the song is really great…” You muttered, and you wanted to mention the other note, how much it crushed you and how much you wished it could change anything, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. You couldn’t handle seeing him, you couldn’t handle anything about Eddie. You needed some time apart. 

“And I’m glad you realized you fucked up but I… I’m just so tired,” you sighed, licking your lips to get some sort of encouragement to say the things that you were about to say. 

“I-I can’t do this back and forth with you anymore,” you huffed. 

“I mean just look at us! I’ve been here for almost two days and look how many times we fought and then pretended like nothing happened! T-this isn’t how we used to be,” you bit on your lip, tasting the bitter taste of metallic blood, just so the tears wouldn’t spill. 

“I know…” he muttered, “but why didn’t you just tell me? Then… and even now?”

“I-I was embarrassed,” you muttered shyly. His brows scrunched, embarrassed? why would you be embarrassed for the shitty things she did?

“Why would you be embarrassed?” He asked.

“Because it was true, Eddie,” you blinked away the tears, settling with that uncomfortable feeling.

“What are you talking about, what she did was fuckin’ cruel, and if I knew-”

“N-no, it was true.” You huffed. “Deadbeat parents and an abusive ex-boyfriend… like how cliche could I fucking get?” You wanted to laugh bitterly.

“I-I’m a mess and she’s right… And so were you! It was such a gut punch when you said it to me, but you were right.” Your lip was wobbling, eyes squinted. “I-I ruined your life and-”

“No, don’t fucking say that-”

“But it is true!” You exclaimed with a sad expression, “I ruined your life and I-I should’ve never tried to re-enter it, and I should’ve left you alone.”

“I-I’m sorry, for everything, for LA, I could say that as many times as you need me to…” you sighed. “but I promise you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“W-what?” He stuttered, still struggling to process your words.

“I told you Eddie, I don’t want to do this. As we said, we don’t have to talk to each other this weekend, and afterward, I’ll be gone.” 

“You won’t ever hear from me or see me again.” 

“But that is not what I want!” Eddie exclaimed, desperate, he didn’t want to lose you, and he was going to. There was nothing he could do to stop it. 

He already lost you once, and maybe he could blame you for that, but this one. It was all him. 

He tried to reach for your arm, to touch you again, to feel the warmth he felt a night ago like everything would be just as it was five years ago. But you were quick to take a step back away from him. 

“But it’s what I want.” You tried to speak calmly, your cracking voice fast to fail you. 

“W-what about the album cover?” 

With a touch of bitterness in your tone, you retorted, “I’m sure you can find someone much better than me.”

“C’mon, Pinky, you can’t be serious, that’s like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing-”

“I’d rather be stuck at the record store for the rest of my life,” you muttered bitterly, words cutting through him. You could see how much they were hurting him, but there was no other way, you had to protect your own feelings. 

Staying away from Eddie was the only thing you could do to stop hurting yourself and everyone else. You had already caused enough problems for everyone in the room. 

Eddie's voice turned somber as he uttered, “So, this is it?” A sense of defeat washed over him.

“We’ve been doing it for the past five years, why should it change now?”

Because I want you. 

Because I haven’t been able to do that for the past five years either. 

Because I could never stay away from you. 

Because it has always been you, from the moment we met. 

Because I love you. Always have, always will.

Was what he should’ve said, some grand speech, something to sweep you off your feet, something to change your mind. Anything. So he wouldn’t lose you again, so you could finally realize how much he cared about you, how much he would always care about you.

But nothing came out of his trembling lips, not even a sound.

He stood there, feeling as if time froze around him. Like he was stuck, everything around him moved, but he didn’t, he couldn’t.

He watched you go back to Steve. Steve comfortably threw an arm around your shoulder and let you know that you could stay here with him and that he would drive you to The Hideout tonight.

And it should have been him. Him, who offered to take you to his place. Him, you spent the rest of your day with.

Him, who you ran off to whenever you felt sad or when your heart was broken. He couldn’t accept that he was no longer the one you ran to, but the one who caused all of it. 

✦ final authors note — OKAY. so please let me know if u want flashbacks in the next chapter bc thats what i had in mind but idk how yall feel abt flashbacks but i swear they will reveal A LOT LMAO.

also please interact/reblog/like or give me any feedback to support me ily &lt;3

permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.) @siriuslysmoking @plk-18 @emxxblog @babyloutattoo89 @micheledawn1975 @sole-screws @joannamuns9n @trixyvixx @fangirling-4-ever @browneyes528

[abbyromanoff]

Hey since father's day is coming can i request a daddy nat x reader fic? It's ok if you ignore this ^_^

Pinky-Promise

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x afab!reader

Word count: 7102 (still can’t believe this only took like 3 hours)

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, divorces, cheating (R to their boyfriend), daddy kink, degrading, praise kink, soft sex then rough sex lol, breeding kink, strap ons, squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering, cunnilingus, mutual pining, arguing, Nat being a dick beforehand, slapping, spit kink (very brief), filming, body worshipping, mentions of masturbation, marking, kinda beefy!Nat, lotssss of pet names, cum-filled straps, happy ending

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“Momma!!” Came the yells of your two children as they entered the large home of your ex-wife. She picked both of them up in her arms and hugged them tightly, giving a kiss to their foreheads before setting them down. It was Father’s Day weekend and before your divorce last year, your little family would always celebrate Nat while they celebrated you on Mother’s Day. And now, this was your first year being divorced during the holiday. And while you were planning to just drop the kids off for the weekend, they begged you to join them, to do it as a family again, as they had said. And their puppy eyes which were exaggerated to the max were impossible to resist. So, you had contacted Nat and told her the plans, that you and your kids would be spending the weekend at her house and would leave Sunday night.

“Oh, you guys are getting so big! I’m not gonna be able to pick you both up soon.” She pouted, receiving shared giggles from the twins standing at her feet. Alex, your 6-year-old son, had similar hair to you with light shades of red shining. His eyes were an exact copy of Nat’s, as were his sisters, Lena. Alexei often bragged that his grandson was named after him, even if it was just a coincidence. But Lena, she had been named after Nat’s sister, Yelena. She didn’t show it, but you knew she was beyond ecstatic to know her niece was named after her.

Your son looked back at you, trying to signal the card that had been put away in your purse. You knew what he was asking, he wanted you to give it to her, they were both too shy to see her reaction. You smiled at them and stepped forward, both children immediately clinging onto you and watching with filled nerves as Nat grasped the card, letting her fingers gently brush against yours for such a small moment that you almost didn’t notice, but you did. You retreated your hand back quickly and watched your kid's excitement grow as Nat let out a gasp, smiling with tears starting to pool in her eyes as she read their messy handwriting inside.

“You guys...Did you make this all by yourselves?” They nodded and you could’ve nearly wept watching the interaction your ex-wife had with them. You knew she loved you and your children more than anything in this world, but she wasn’t great at showing that.

“Are you sure? Because if you asked me I’d say a professional drew this masterpiece.” You could see the pride in their faces at her words.

When it was nearing the end of the day you were trying to figure out the bed situation. The kids had their own rooms, Nat made sure of it. But she didn’t have an extra room for you or any guest at that.

“Don’t worry about it, I can just take the couch.” It had been a while since you two had a conversation face to face and all alone.

“Oh, shut it. Here, you can have the bed and I’ll take the couch, you are my guest after all.” You sighed, knowing there was no way of fighting this argument but you still tried. You didn’t want her to sleep on the couch with those painful edges that you had bruised yourself on many times before.

“You’re not taking the couch, I am. There, it’s settled.” You both shared a look at the couch and back at one another, both being able to sense what was about to happen. You two ran as quickly as possible, trying to beat the other onto the furniture. You had landed first, but you both tackled over the spot.

“Stop, stop!” You yelled out as her long fingers tickled your skin and caused laughs to pour out of you.

“Accept your defeat and I’ll stop.” There were so many giggles from the both of you and, for a small minute, it was like everything in your past had disappeared, you were just in this moment.

“Okay, okay! You win!” Her legs that were around your waist loosened and her hands finally retreated back, she placed them right next to your head on the sofa. They were trapping you in from both sides, and you couldn’t deny the way it still left you as breathless as it did many years ago.

Time seemed to have stopped as you both stared into one another's eyes, her emerald ones looking identical to your children. You seemed to have realized the position you two were in and nervously chuckled, trying to stand but she wouldn’t let you.

“Nat, we should probably get to bed.” She licked her slightly dry lips and nodded, still refusing to move herself from you. She wasn’t looking at you but instead had her gaze lowered, it hurt to see how affected she was by you.

“Nat-”

“Please. Please don’t leave me tonight.” You looked at her with confusion, furrowing your brows and silently pleading her to continue.

“I haven’t been sleeping well, Y/N, I haven’t been for the past year. I miss having you by my side, no other girl could ever replace your warmth.” The mention of other girls lying in her bed, the same one you two had shared the most intimate and sweetest moments in, made your stomach drop.

“I-I get if you think it’s weird since we’re, you know.” You noticed the way she refused to admit what it truly was, that you two were divorced, separated. No longer a pair. “But, I think you know I’m secretly a better cuddler than your boyfriend.” Your eyes widened at her words, she seemed to have picked that up.

“The kids mentioned him. I promise I wasn’t, like, stalking you or anything.” You chuckled dryly and she joined you. You could sense the small tension that was still there, it never truly left you both. It would haunt you in the nights, as it did with her. There had been so many times where you had almost called your boyfriend Natty, your favorite nickname that only you were ever allowed to call her. The thought that someone else might take that spot, might be able to share those sweet moments like you two had shattered your heart completely. Neither of you ever fell out of love with one another, and you both knew that too. But it wasn’t working. She was barely home, and when she was she was working. During your family movie nights, she would have paperwork in one hand and a pen in the other. The work had putten stress on her, stress that she didn’t know how to handle. So, she had taken it out on you, something she would forever regret. The arguments were taking a toll on the kids, and that’s when you knew it was too much. After that, it took you less than a month to get the divorce papers. You tried just getting it over with and freeing your kids from the pain of seeing their mom’s like this, but you didn’t want to accept the fact that it would be over. And she didn’t either.

She hadn’t taken the news well when you told her. She cried, dropping to her knees in front of you and holding onto your legs to not let you get away. You had Alex and Lena stay at your parent's house, you didn’t want them to see you two like this.

It wasn’t the same since then. You’d often get the urge to text her throughout the day, only to remember she was no longer yours.

“It’s okay, I guess we can share the bed for the night then.” She smiled, quickly trying to hide it as not to scare you away. There was a hair strand covering her cheek, your hand instinctively reached out to pull it back, letting your hand linger on the side of her face. She leaned into your touch, wishing this moment could last forever. But it didn’t, and you removed your hand just like you did earlier in the day.

“Uh, let’s go then.” You said with a tight-lipped smile and she sighed, knowing the small moment was done for.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” It was awkward lying next to each other. You both wanted to hold one another like before, although neither of you made the move. You both lied there, staring at the ceiling before finally falling into a deep sleep.

That morning you were lucky to be greeted with the sight of the sun blaring through the curtains. You turned, stretching and being surprised to see Nat next to you, that was until memories of last night flooded your mind. Her arm was draped around your waist and you wished it could be this way again, and not just for the weekend.

“Mm, good morning, angel.” She hadn’t seemed to notice her slip up and you didn’t correct her on it either.

“Morning, Natty. How’d you sleep?” The refresher of the nickname felt so relieving to finally get out.

“Better than I have in so long.” She chuckled, trying her best to capture this moment before it would get ripped away from her once again.

Your faces were so close, you nearly could’ve kissed. But then there was a sudden burst of the door opening and your two kids running in quickly to jump on the bed. Lena cuddled in between the two of you while Alex immediately went into your arms.

“Happy Father’s Day, Momma!!” They both yelled at once. You’d never get sick of how they interacted, it was the sweetest thing.

“Thank you, kiddos! Now, how about we all go make some pancakes together, hm?” She was as much of a child as they were, picking one up to rest on her waist and the other receiving a piggyback ride.

You started getting ready in the bathroom and looked back at the bed where your ex had just rested. It reminded you of the years before when you’d wait for her to wake up since she slept in so late. When she’d never want to leave the comfort of her bed unless you left as well, or if you were about to get into the shower. When her smile was the first thing that greeted you in the morning. And that smile of hers always got you, it continued to make you melt every day.

Your sniffles were unheard by anyone, you were left all alone. You knew that you needed to hurry or your kids would come to get you and see you like this. Or maybe even Nat. You wondered what she’d do if you told her the truth, that you never wanted to leave her, that you would still love her no matter what. That you felt like a coward leaving her instead of trying to fix it. That you missed her, the old her. The one so deeply in love with you that nothing ever made you think otherwise. If she saw you, and you told her everything cascading through your mind, would she be mad? Sad? Would she feel guilt or remorse? You didn’t want to ruin her day, but you feared that if you didn't tell her, it would haunt you for the rest of the time.

“Y/N? Y/N, you in here-“ She stopped in her tracks when seeing your tinted cheeks and the sad look she knew all too well.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She walked closer, hesitating to take your face in her hands in case you were sensitive or frightened, she had learned over the years how to do that for you.

“Nothing. Nothings wrong. Now, why don’t we have some pancakes, I bet you and the kids made some delicious ones like always.” You tried to walk past her with a false grin on your face, but she stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me what’s bothering you.” She was persistent, she always was.

“I told you, it’s nothing-“

“Bullshit, Y/N, I know when something is bothering you, we were married for fuck sake.”

“That’s the point.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your statement, it was a silent urge for you to speak again.

“Do you think I wanted to come here? Do you think I wanted to sleep in the same bed with you after everything?” Your voice wavered while you tried to hide the depths of your emotions.

“What do you…what do you mean? I thought you were okay with this, I thought you agreed to sleeping in the same bed as me.” She backed up, hands being held at her sides defensively as she looked at the ground.

“You needed me to, you couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d help and maybe that was a fucking mistake! I-“ You cut yourself off, trying your best to hold back the tears already arising at the surface. “I can’t do this with you, I can’t.”

“No, no, no, you don’t get to just walk out on me again, not when the kids are right outside.”

“Walk out? I walked out on you? You walked out of this marriage way before I decided to end it.” She was near shouting, only to remember how small of a distance there was between you both and the children.

“Look, I never walked out of our marriage-“

“Oh, really?”

“Let me finish my fucking sentence, Y/N!” She started, anger looming in her voice. “I never left you, and I never wanted to lose you either. You left, not me. You signed the paper, I didn’t want to. You were the one who took the kids and left your wife, the love of your goddamn life.” You couldn’t believe her, even after all this time she didn’t realize what she had done. She didn’t realize the reason you were forced to leave her.

“You think I wanted to leave you? You really think I just, fell out of love with you or something?”

“Then what was it, Y/N? Truly, I want to know what I did so wrong.”

“You left me, maybe not physically but mentally you did. Work was your new love, not me, not your kids. The breakfasts that were spent with your arms around me while I cooked turned into the kids wondering why momma forgot to give them their kiss goodbye. Picking up the kids from school with you turned into them wondering where momma was. Even the teachers questioned where you were when you didn’t show up for parent-teacher conferences. Dinners were spent without you and if you were there you had your work in your hands. One mission led to several, and days turned into months. I was tired, Nat, so tired. I knew you loved me, and I know you still do. I will always know your love, but I’ll still always know that you’d choose your work life over me. Do you even understand how hard it is to explain to your children that momma wasn’t there? That you didn’t know if she’d even make it back? They looked up to you, but you weren’t there! And I guess being back on that bed, seeing you there, just brought back everything I’ve been fighting so hard to get over. I never stopped loving you, Nat, but I stopped loving what you did to me, to us. To our family.” Nat looked at you with something you’d never seen before. After more than ten years of being together and six and a half years of being married, you still have never seen her look at you the way she did now. It broke your heart knowing you had hurt her, but a part of you wanted her to feel the same pain she caused you.

“I’m sorry..” Before you could say anything else you felt yourself being pushed against a wall, lips being placed against yours. You melted into her, your hands holding onto her hair for dear life.

“I love you, baby, I love you so much.” She mumbled against your mouth, her tears landing on your cheeks as well as hers.

“I know you do-“

“No, my love, I love you, you hear me? I love you more than anyone, I’ve never felt this type of love before I had you, and I wanted to hate you for ruining that but- but I couldn’t. I could never hate you, and that’s the part that I hate. So, please, please just be with me right now.” It was more of a question than a statement. You didn’t want to say no, so you didn’t.

“I’ve got you, Natty. I’m right here, you feel this?” You grabbed her hand and placed it against your chest, your heartbeat being just noticeable by her. She nodded, her forehead gently hitting yours with every movement she made.

“That right there, that’s my heartbeat. My heart beats for you, sweetheart. It beats for you, and it beats for our family.” She grinned happily, rejoining your lips together in a hungry kiss. You were desperate to have each other, to just feel one another. Her hands wandered your body and landed on the back of your upper thighs, lifting you up into her hold and sitting you down on the counter. Some of the clutter fell to the ground when coming in contact with your body.

“You feel so good in my arms again, my darling girl.” Her lips slammed against your neck, her heart and soul wanting to leave marks, any symbol to show you were still hers, that all that grievance wasn’t real, that it was just a nightmare. But her mind knew she couldn’t. The kids could see, or better yet, your boyfriend could see. Your boyfriend. Alex and Lena’s stepfather. No. No, she was their mother, their father. Not him. You were her wife, not his. What if he was to take her place? What if he was to put a ring on your finger and replace the one that you still had a hard time taking off? She had never taken off the one you had given to her, she refused to.

“Mommy? Momma? The pancakes are all decorated, just like you said.” Alex said through the door, his little hands knocking so gently you almost didn’t hear it. You both retracted from one another unwillingly and you sighed, realizing that this moment was ruined and, as much as you loved your children to death, you really wish they had slept in this morning.

“Come on, the kids are waiting.” You tried to stand, but once again, she stopped you.

“Nat-“

“Wait. Just, wait.” She pressed her forehead against yours and fluttered her eyes shut. “Please don’t tell me this is over. Please don’t tell me I won’t get this with you again.” Her lip quivered and she bit it to hide her sadness from you.

“This isn’t over, baby, we’re not over, okay? Later tonight, once the kids have gone to bed, we’ll talk more. But for now, we need to be there for our children. You need to.” She nodded with a tight-lipped smile, kissing you once more before opening the door to a waiting Alex.

“What are you doing in here, Momma?” He could see you, and while he still didn’t understand most adult things at his young age, you could almost feel his judgemental gaze.

“Oh- well, me and mommy were just playing a game of hide and seek while you guys made our surprise. And, well, you know how bad of a hider momma is.” He gasped, looking at his mommies with a hint of betrayal.

“You played hide and seek without me? But, momma, I thought we always played hide and seek together.”

“Well,” You could see her struggling with an excuse to make, but she always knew what to say to him. “Me and Mommy wanted to let you guys finish before we invited you to play with us. We thought we’d get some good practice at hiding since you’re such a good seeker, aren’t you, little guy?” She booped his nose and he giggled, pulling her with him to the kitchen where the food awaited you both. You followed her after taking a quick moment to look at yourself in the mirror, a saddened grin breaking over your face when you took in the whole situation. You had a boyfriend, a lover, but Nat was still yours. While she may be your ex-wife, she was still your wife. She still was the only carrier of your heart. Your family, you and Nat’s family, was the only keeper of your broken little heart.

“Mommy, I wanna stay longer.” Your daughter pouted, the clock reading late into the evening and nearing the time you were planned to leave.

“Yeah, why can’t we stay one more night?” Her twin added on, giving you those puppy eyes you couldn’t ignore, and neither could Nat.

“Yeah, Mommy,” Nat teased, mocking her kids' words. “Why can’t my three babies stay a little longer, hm?” You didn’t miss the obvious gesture towards you and you didn’t complain about it either.

“Alright then, I guess since you kiddos don’t have school tomorrow we can stay another day. But just one more night.” They all cheered in excitement, nodding along to the compromise that you knew would be hard to keep. Your kids rushed to the living room, trying their best to figure out the remote for movie night. You and Nat were left in the kitchen alone. She stepped closer to you, brushing her fingertips against your arm and holding the sleeve of your sweater.

“So, one more night I get to spend with you, huh?” You grinned to yourself at her words, nodding and copying the move she had done to you by running your hand up and down her arm. You stopped at her hand, interlacing your fingers with hers and holding them up together. Her face was nearly touching yours with how close you became, you could practically feel her breath hitting your own.

“Kiss me, baby.” And she did. She moved her lips on yours like a starved woman, hungry for the attention of you. Neither of you cared to pay much attention to your kids bickering playfully in the other room, you were too engrossed with one another to notice anything else around you.

“Mm, what about them?”

“They’re stuck on the tv, they won’t notice us.” You giggled as her nose tickled against your neck while her mouth left marks of her love.

“No marks, Natty…Richard will see.” She paused in her steps, shocking you into a gasp when you felt her teeth sinking into your neck this time.

“N-Nat, let’s do this when the kids aren’t around.”

“You’ve already made me wait so long, I just want to feel you again.” You brushed the messy hair out of her face, cupping her cheeks and she leaned into it.

“Trust me, once we put those little ones to bed, I’ll let you touch me however you want.” You said. “Remember all those nights before we had the kids, and even after we had them, where it was all just so perfect? It was raw, meaningful, and so unbelievably hot. Our sweaty bodies just rocking against each other, desperate for anything we could get our hands on because we were just so deeply infatuated with one another. All those moments are what have kept me up at night for the past year, I’ve just been so needy to have you.” Shivers traveled down her spine as she pictured it with you. It was true, you two shared some of the best sex known to mankind. Even your friends were jealous of your love and intimacy with Nat when their partners barely acknowledged them.

“Fine, I’ll wait. But know this, the second I get you on my bed, sprawled out and ready just for me, I’m not gonna stop ‘till you’re begging me to. And I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t even remember your own damn name.” You bit your lip in excitement, your hips slightly grinding into nothing. She noticed with a sly smirk, departing from you and entering the living room while her eyes were stuck on where you had just been, she thanked all Gods that the wall was there to cover your moment from the kids.

The time had finally come when your kids were knocked out in their beds after your bedtime stories. They were tired after all of their running throughout the day and you both knew there was no waking them from their slumber.

The second you closed the door behind you, you were being dragged into Nat’s room, the one you used to share with her for many years, and being pushed onto the bed. Nat was moving faster than the speed of light as she removed her shirt along with yours, noticing with hungry eyes how you lacked a bra.

“Baby, baby, just relax, we have all the time in the world.” She took a deep breath and agreed with you, dragging her hands down to your breasts that had been calling her name. She grasped them in her hands as if there were stress balls and ran her thumbs over your hardened nipples. You hummed in delight as she continued, now straddling your lap while ducking her head to your chest. One hand continued her actions while the other was taken into her mouth. You ran your fingertips through her hair and pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from her cherry-red lips.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart.” You didn’t know whether she was referring to you or to your breasts, but you smiled anyways.

“Show me how much you missed me then, Natty.” You pulled her face closer to yours, your eyes seemingly stuck in the endless loop of falling in line with her own. But her eyes were just so enchanting, so beautiful. You could stare at them for hours on end and never get bored.

She leaned in for a searing kiss and it felt as though the world stopped spinning. Everything came swarming back like a bee hive. All the memories, good and bad. All the kisses, sensual and sweet. And all the touches, hot and sweet.

Nat could feel the way you softened in her hold and sat back upright, examining your face and nearly copying your saddened expression.

“Oh, love, please don’t cry.” It only caused you to do so even more. You had been trying to hold back your emotions this whole stay, but just like Nat had said long ago during one of her fits that she took out on you, you were too emotional.

“I’m sorry, I-I just, I don’t even know.” You let out a fake chuckle to lighten the mood, but Nat didn’t return it.

“It’s okay, we can just lie here or talk, we don’t need to have sex.” You quickly tried to explain yourself before she got off of you, you really didn’t intend to ruin the moment.

“No, no, I want to. I do. I guess just being with you and kissing you again just makes me miss you even more.” She gave you a small grin full of pity and understanding. But you didn’t want her pity, you just wanted your Natty.

“You don’t need to miss me anymore, I’m right here. And I’m not going to risk losing you again.”

“You promise?” She stuck her pinky in the air, pointing it your way. It was a sweet memory you both shared. When you were children you had met under the circumstances of your parents being new friends after she moved into town. Anytime you asked her to promise you something she had held her pinky high and not once did she break her promise.

When she was taken away, she made a pinky promise to herself to find you again. And when she did, she promised you to never lose you again. But that was the only one she had broken, but she intended to fix it. She was going to make you hers again, and she’d do anything to achieve that.

“I promise.” You moved your mouths together once again, her tongue occasionally poking your lips until you gave her access. Her hands explored your body as if she’d never seen it before.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” While you loved her pet names more than anything, the compliment felt more sincere when being followed by your name.

Your hands copied hers but on her body, traveling to her stomach where you felt her abs nearly pulsing. She clenched the muscle and caused you to laugh into the kiss. She smiled against you and brought her mouth to your neck, continuing her earlier abuse of the skin, this time the hunger was replaced with care. She didn’t just want you, she needed you.

When you let out a small whimper as her teeth brushed over the bruised skin she smirked, “You like when I do that?” You nodded in response.

“No, no, tell me. I wanna hear that sweet voice I love so dearly.” You bit your lip as she did it once more, teasing you further.

“I love it so much, daddy.” She groaned at the title, bucking her hips into nothing.

“You’re so addicting, love.” Her face had traveled down to your chest, kissing the skin with adoration and affection that was only ever masked as love. She kissed her way down to your stomach, letting her lips linger for a second too long on your stretch marks. They were the marks of your children, her children.

She took notice of the way you tried to hide in embarrassment, thinking she didn’t like the way you looked anymore. After all, it had been a while since she’d seen you like this.

“Don’t shy away from me, my love, you’re breathtaking. And so, so gorgeous. These marks adorning your skin only makes me love you even more. It shows your bravery, and your pain. It’s a symbol of our love, and of our beautiful babies.” She kissed each one and you nearly broke at her softness. While you two often shared hot, steamy sex that left you both breathless, the soft nature of her made you crumble in the best ways possible.

She had made her way to your waist after climbing off on you and resting her body in between your legs that she got permission to spread. She stared at your wet cunt, licking her lips and smelling your sweet nectar.

“Oh, how I missed this pussy.” Her tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, letting out an enthusiastic moan as your juices entered her tastebuds.

You threw your head back as she sucked your clit for dear life, her eyes fluttering shut as she became engrossed in you.

“You like how that feels, hm? You like how daddy’s mouth feels?”

“Daddy, you eat me so well. God, I- I need it!” She leaned back, your whines filling the room from the loss of her warmth.

“You need to tell daddy what you want, how else will she know?” You tried pulling her head back in place, but she didn’t budge.

“Ah, ah, ah, you know what to do.”

“I need you, Natty. I need your mouth, I need your cock, I need your fingers, I just need you. I don’t want anyone but you, you’re all I think about.” She smiled at that, replacing her tongue with her fingers like you asked. Your clit was rubbed in small circles and your hips bucked up, only to be held back down by Nat’s strong hold.

“You think about me, baby?” You nodded and she leaned over your shaking body.

“What do you think about?…” It was an open question that she couldn’t help but mumble out. The big, Black Widow was shy above you.

“You. Whenever Richard would fuck me, fill me up, and have me bent over, all I thought about was you. I’d- I’d think about your cock, how he was nothing compared to you. He never- ah! He never made me cum the way you do. He’s never made me squirt. He’s never hit my g-spot. And he never pleased me the way you always did.” You paused, your nails scratching her back red as her fingers eased into your hole.

“When I touch myself, you immediately come to mind. When I’d- oh shit! Yes! Right there, daddy!” She fucked you deep with two fingers, curling them to hit your g-spot repeatedly.

“C'mon, be a good girl and tell me everything in that pretty little head of yours.”

“When I fucked myself, it would never be enough. I’d use my fingers, toys, the- the pillows, I did everything, but it wasn’t enough. I haven’t had an orgasm since we broke apart.” This made her stop in her tracks. The realization hit her, she really was the best you ever had.

“You didn’t- you didn’t have an orgasm until me?” You shook your head in embarrassment and fear. You didn’t know what you feared, but you worried she’d leave you after hearing the information.

“Please, I need to cum so badly. It’s been so long.” Her fingers continued after her sudden stop, immediately picking up a quick and sensual pace.

“I want you to cum all over me, Y/N. And then, I wanna fuck you hard with my cock.” Your orgasm came crashing over you, your nails still left on her back digging into her skin and causing small amounts of blood to leak from her.

“Yes! Don’t stop, daddy, don’t fucking stop!” Your moans and pleas only turned her on further and caused wetness to paint her cunt.

“God, you have no idea the effect you have on me.” She whimpered. She let you ride out your release, slowing down her rough speed and watching your blissed-out face. She moved her face down to your cunt, licking up the juices that coated your thighs before pulling out completely. You mewled, the noise soon being muted by her fingers in your mouth. She made you suck off the sweet taste of your cum.

“Where are you going?” You asked when she stood up, walking towards the closet and soon returning with the toy in her hand. Your question had been answered when seeing it. The strap-on she held was your favorite, it never failed to have you screaming by the time she was done. It was long, at least six inches, and had the perfect amount of girth to fill you to the brim and have you begging for more.

“Like what you see?” She teased, only receiving a nod from your end as you were still too spaced out to speak. She harnessed the toy around her waist and sat back on the bed in front of you.

“You gonna fuck me now, daddy?” She groaned in pleasure and held you down, both hands wrapping around your biceps to keep you still.

“You tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

“I will.” One of her hands went to wrap around her length, guiding herself in your tight hole before returning to its spot on your arm. She clenched her teeth together when the strap rubbed against her clit ever so gently. You tightened your fists together as she bottomed out inside of you, pausing to let you adjust before you gave her the okay to continue.

“You’re so fucking tight- fuck! You think your little boyfriend can fuck you like this? Can that pathetic bitch make you cum like I do?” She already knew the answer; no. You had already confessed the embarrassing truth, but she still wanted to use it against you.

“No one can make me feel as good as you do, Nat.” She moved her hips faster, the sound of skin hitting against each other filling the room. You followed her rhythm, sloppily trying to match her pace as to fuck yourself on her cock.

She grabbed your phone from the bedside table, already knowing the password that was her birthday. She opened the camera app and pressed record, showing off your fucked-out face, your mouth wide and your eyes shut. Moans and whimpers escaped you repeatedly, your body bouncing up and down on the bed as the headboard hit the wall over and over. You prayed it wouldn’t wake your kids.

“Look at the camera, baby.” You did as she said, taking the thumb she rested on your lower lip into your mouth and sucking like you had earlier.

“You wanna put on a little show, hm? Wanna show the camera just how much of a dirty slut you really are for me?” You nodded, unable to speak until she ripped her thumb from your lips.

“Answer me, whore.”

“Yes! I’ll do anything you want daddy.” You were cut off by a moan, feeling her tip poking at that spongey spot deep inside of you.

“Shit! I’m your little slut, daddy, only yours!” Your hands grasped the sheets tightly, nearly ripping the soft cotton material in half.

“Mhm, and how do you think your boyfriends gonna react when knowing you’re mine?”

“I don’t care- ah! I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum again, Natty?” She gripped your chin in her free hands, squeezing your mouth open and spitting on your tongue. You swallowed it without a complaint, the action making a smirk cover Nat’s face. She took her palm that had just been resting on your face and slapped your cheek, hard. You bit your lip to hide your moans, too ashamed to show how badly that turned you on.

“Oh? You like when daddy slaps you, little girl?” Both of you had forgotten about the camera filming your every move.

“Mhm, love it so much.” Your stomach was tightening with how badly you needed to finish, but she kept you on edge.

“Please, I’ve been so good for you. Please, please let me cum.” You weakly murmured, only to receive another slap on the same spot.

“Is that how you ask for things? Oh, love, you need to beg better than that.”

“God, please! Please, I’ll do anything, anything you ask of me. Just wan’ you to fill me up, turn me into your breeding bitch and make me a mommy again.” You lost all composure, only being focused on the orgasm waiting for you. You knew how much she loved to hear those words, so you used it to your advantage.

“Yeah? You wanna be daddy’s cum slut? I’ll fill you up with so much fucking cum, you’ll be dripping for me.” The strap was filled with artificial cum, making it possible to fulfill both of your fantasies.

“You want me to put another baby in this precious stomach? You’ll be so beautiful all round and full of me.” You felt like you were holding your breath with how long you were waiting for her permission, but that was her whole point.

“Cum with me, pretty girl. Make daddy proud and fucking cum.” You threw your head back in pleasure and succumbed to the feeling of release. It felt so good, so fucking good. You could feel her cum shooting deep inside of you, it only turned you on further. You could hear a small gasp but you were too far gone to care. You were seeing stars, it was all too euphoric to be able to take in.

“Holy fuck, baby.” You had begun to regain yourself at this point and looked up at Nat with worry.

“What? What’s wrong?” She was staring down at your conjoined bodies, completely mesmerized.

“I just made you squirt.” Even in the long ten years of being together, she had never done so. You don’t think you had ever even done so in your entire life, until now.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry-” You rushed out but she was quick to ease your worries away with a gentle hand leading you back down.

“Don’t you dare apologize for this. I’ve never been happier.” You chuckled and she tossed the phone somewhere on the bed, already ending the recording moments before. She was planning to send it to your boyfriend, Richard, but she knew she needed your permission first.

“Thank you for that, Natty.”

“No, thank you.”

Nearly half an hour later and you two were finally laying in bed after a soft moment of care was shared between you.

“So, are we going to talk about this or what?” Nat sighed, turning to sit on her side, her arm holding her head up.

“Yeah, let’s talk.” And while you hoped it was true at the time, that weekend saved your already-ended marriage. You left your boyfriend soon after with an apology that didn’t matter to him, you still cheated and would always be a cheater in his eyes, but you didn’t blame him for that one.

Your kids were more than happy when you told them the news. No longer would they have to spend weekends with one and weekdays with the other, you were a true family again. Nat finally retired with a promise to be a better mother and a better wife. She felt like she was able to come to you for anything just like you hoped she would. You both attended couples counseling every two weeks and while it wasn’t always easy, you would never make the mistake of letting go of each other again. But really, if you hadn’t divorced, and if you hadn’t spent the weekend with her, you don’t know if you’d be able to fix what was already broken. So, you had the break up to thank. Some thought you were crazy for saying so, but it really did bring you two closer than ever before.

But as pinky-promised, you two would love each other till the end of time. And as she had pinky-promised to herself many years ago, she would always find you in the end. But this time, she didn’t just find you, she found herself, her true self. And nearly four years later, you were able to remarry the woman you spent your entire life loving. And you weren’t going to stop loving her anytime soon.

[citrinae]

gingerbread kisses.

or: christmassy things you do with them. there are some more holiday-themed drabbles/headcanons in the works so hopefully i'll get around to posting some of them anytime soon!

ft. the monster trio

☆*。luffy

• hot cocoa, ornaments dangling from his ears, snowman-building contests, him pushing you into a pile of snow and joining soon after, snow fights turning into snow angel-making contests, crumbles of the gingerbread he stole from sanji’s kitchen, once he exposed a fake santa in front of a bunch of kids at the christmas market. 

• he’d make it his life’s mission to make sure you’re laughing, always, especially around this time, when his restlessness and impersonation skills increase tenfold. luffy on christmas eve is like mixing coffee with an energy drink. and even though he vehemently claimed he’d help you decorate the tree, he cannot help throwing everything on him instead, tinsel and ornaments and lights, turning himself into a walking greeting card. 

• after one, two, three more attempts at placing decorations on the actual tree, a defeated sigh leaves you eventually as you hang a glass bauble around your nose. luffy’s eyes are glowing brighter than the lights blinking around his neck and he leans forward to press a kiss upon your lips, long and sweet, bauble slipping off and unfurling into constellations on the floor as he does. do remember to brush those under a carpet before someone witnesses the mess you’ve made in here.  

• “what’s that for?” you laugh, a pinker shade crossing your cheeks, only for you to be met with a shrug and a smile reaching luffy’s ears. “felt happy, was all,” he says, and it’s completely genuine, even more so when he adds, “you’re awesome.” you smile back. and just as spontaneously you pull luffy in for a hug, wiggling the rest of the ornaments off him, encircling you both in a sea of colour and glitter. the moment doesn’t last for long and it’s the silver star lingering at the bottom of your decorations box that catches his attention now. “who makes the coolest half gets to place the star on the top.”

☆*。zoro

• mulled wine, hesitant pecks under the mistletoe, a freshly cut conifer carried on one shoulder and chopper cheering merrily on the other, damp wood and pine filling your nose when you rest your chin over his head, pinkies touching, his hands wrapping themselves around you after you’d both have fallen asleep at the fireplace. 

• it’s common knowledge that zoro isn’t good with dates. neither is he someone to put as much importance on a holiday, “i guess people needed an excuse to drink without feeling bad for it,” and at first you are more than sure he’d spend christmas morning training. therefore not finding him in his usual spot, barbells and swords and towels untouched and forgotten, should come as a total shocker to you. 

• but you’d have found what he’d been up to way sooner if he hadn’t gotten himself lost on the way to the town and back to the ship. sunset victoriously colouring his outline and a hand at his nape, he blames his absence on an old lady mistaking a sword shop for a tavern. for all you know, it was probably him mistaking a tavern for a sword shop. there’s a rectangular object in his fist you cannot take your eyes off—a knife case. “found nothing to grab my attention, dunno. still i thought this might come in handy to you,” he lies. better throw yourself into his arms because getting presents from roronoa zoro is like seeing him rip himself open for you. of course the quiet sigh coming with his reaction isn’t always that reassuring, but deep down he’s happy to know his efforts brought a smile to your face. 

• you two spend a good part of that night in the storage room, clinking bottles and letting yourselves get carried away with stories from your homelands. before you get to open yourself another one, he gestures with his knee towards your pocket knife. “let’s see what this devil can do, shall we?” you know exactly what he means by this. with a swift hand, you slide the knife under the bottle cap. when it pops, there’s a smirk climbing on zoro’s face, “that’s my babe.”

• apple and cinnamon tea, matching sweaters, him spinning you around the kitchen while humming some carol he picked from the north blue, scented candles, sugar melting in a frying pan and your lips touching the tip of a wooden spoon after he asks if this syrup is sweet enough for you. "at least half as sweet as you are, mon cœur."

☆*。sanji

• food shopping is the default. he’s got everything planned out, lists and schedules of the best providers on the island, and he wants to make sure everything goes immaculately at dinner on this special occasion with you. you’re not surprised when you notice that a good part of his basket is made of either foods you like or stuff you’ve asked of him before. mans does his homework all right. 

• be watchful of zoning out because if you keep your eyes on something for more than thirty seconds he’ll get it for you. no questions asked. he might also make some other additions on the spot if you happen to stumble upon any trinkets that remind him of you in one way or another. does someone sell heart-shaped ornaments at the stall on your left? he’ll get one for you. snowflake ornaments? he’ll get one for you, “because, darling, you landed on my heart the way snow graces a withered tree.”

• shopping bags at your feet and your cheeks rosy after shouldering past animated gushes of people at the market, your retreat is an isolated bench near the docks and the clicking sound of sanji’s lighter. he folds an arm around you. “cold,” you try to reason for huddling yourself into him. snowflakes begin to dot the sky a whiter canvas, floating on your head and nose. sanji doesn’t say it out loud, but a selfish part of him wishes you were feeling cold more often. 

[wyattjohnston]

we all have our secrets - jack hughes

summary: sometimes secrets go on just a little too long

word count: 1703

note: don’t mind me, just being extraordinarily late to @callsign-denmark’s birthday bingo.

bingo squares: secret romance + “please stay” + captain’s sister + pining + engagement

Emilie stood awkwardly behind Nico as they walked into the party—she was a reluctant plus one to an engagement party of people she barely knew. Nico, upon her unexpected arrival in New Jersey, had taken it upon himself to make sure she didn’t spend all her time sitting in her room by herself. Emilie appreciated the thought; she just didn’t have much of anything in common with Nico’s teammates and their families aside from the assortment of Swiss teammates he had.

And Jack.

There was also Jack.

Until Emilie saw somebody she knew, she stood by Nico’s side as he did his captainly duties and greeted everybody he knew—if anybody in the room didn’t know who he was, they’d be forgiven for thinking he was the groom-to-be.

She shook hands with the people who introduced themselves, gave polite hugs to the people she’d already met, and blended into the background when Nico stopped to have an actual conversation with someone she only vaguely recognised. Nico would remind her when they got home that he’d like her to make an effort, that he didn’t want to be the only person she knew in the city.

Halfway through her first drink, Emilie’s eyes drifted around the room, drawn to the main doors of the function room, and locked onto Jack as he entered. He was already looking at her. Her smile was instant if not subdued. Despite the tugging she felt in her body, she kept her feet firmly planted so that Nico wouldn’t have any reason to ask questions.

Jack had no issues making his way directly to her, though, under the guise of greeting Nico.

“Come with me to get a drink?” Jack asked Emilie, already guiding her to the open bar with his hand hovering over her lower back.

Neither of them said another word until they were at the bar and well out of earshot of Nico.

Jack leant in close, his voice hot against her ear as he whispered, “Holy shit you’re so hot.”

Emilie kept her attention on the bartender, trying to flag him down, even though she knew her cheeks were flaming red and anybody who saw the colour with Jack pressed so close to her back would be able to guess the sordid things Jack was continuing to whisper.

They tucked themselves away at a low table in a corner once they had a couple of drinks in hand, sitting a respectable distance from each other but still with their heads tilted towards each other to hear each other over the music and loud conversations happening nearby. Under the table, Emilie hooked her foot around Jack’s ankle because her desire to hold his hand couldn’t be satiated.

“I think they’re about to do speeches,” Nico said, catching Emilie’s attention. She tried not to look caught out at how close she was to Jack, but Nico didn’t seem to notice.

He passed a champagne flute to her, Jonas handing one to Jack, and they all stood to listen to the speeches. With everyone else standing in front of them, Jack’s fingers brushed against Emilie’s and let their pinkies link.

Keeping their relationship a secret hadn’t been the intention. Neither of them had specifically voiced out loud that they weren’t going to tell Nico—it had just been a given because when they’d slept together for the first time it was just supposed to be sex and Emilie didn’t exactly like the idea of her brother knowing who she was sleeping with.

As it became more and more like a relationship, it never came up and, three months later, it very much felt like it was getting too long.

Luckily, Nico didn’t ask questions about where Emilie disappeared to when she wasn’t sitting around at home, so she never had to lie to him. She wondered, sometimes, what excuses Jack made when she was over, and Nico asked to hang out. It just felt like tempting fate to ask.

Cuddling up to Jack was so easy, sitting between his legs and watching him play a video game. It wasn’t her favourite pastime by any means—the story of Hitman was fascinating even if the gameplay wasn’t her cup of tea—but it was easy to lean back against his chest and be near him.

“I should think about going,” she said reluctantly as she pulled out her phone and realised it was after eight.

Jack dropped the controller onto the coffee table, his arms wrapping easily around Emilie’s waist, and holding her close. Emilie melted into him, tilting her head when he nudged it, letting him press a kiss to her neck.

“Please stay.”

How could she say no?

The worst part of it all was that Nico and Jack were best friends. It was great having Jack around; it was just hard when he was at the apartment to spend time with Nico and not her. At least not exclusively.

Nico didn’t have any issues with Emilie crashing his hang out time with Jack, whether it was watching television or just listening to music and vibing. She drew the line at watching them play FIFA, though, because there wasn’t even a plot to follow.

If Jack came over for dinner Luke was never far behind, and the four of them ate whatever had been decided on. Emilie was exhausted, truthfully, at the effort it took to not stare at Jack the entire time—he had far fewer qualms about that, though neither Nico nor Luke ever mentioned it—and she longed to be able to hold his hand or just be pressed up against his side.

“Em and I will get the dishes tonight,” Jack said when the table was cleared of food.

Emilie put on a show of being affronted that he’d volunteered her to clean up, but when they were tucked away in the kitchen, away from prying eyes, she let Jack sweep her into a hug and breathed him in.

“I missed you,” she sighed, making sure to keep her voice low. Jack hummed in agreement.

They did actually wash the dishes—loaded the dishwasher, at least—always standing close and always with unsubtle touches that would give them away if either Nico or Luke walked in.

The unspoken secrecy kept going, even as Emilie spent more and more nights at Jack’s. While he hadn’t asked directly, Nico’s line of questioning was getting less subtle. He asked if he should expect her home whenever she left, instead of waiting for her to text him after she’d left, and he started talking about things he’d done with former girlfriends as if he was trying to give her ideas for dates.

His lines of questioning still never had her lie outright, for which she was thankful.

The fact that he and Jack had almost the exact same schedule made it incredibly easy for her to navigate the apartment building without being seen. By Nico, anyway. One of their neighbours absolutely knew what was going on, watching Emilie slink between the apartments at all hours of the day.

“Did you forget to do any washing?” Nico asked, laughing when he saw her on the couch after coming home from a road trip.

“No?” Emilie responded with a furrowed brow.

“That’s a Devils’ hoodie.”

Emilie held out her arms, looking down at the Devils’ logo splashed across her chest—she frowned at it harder and then, out of pure instinct, rushed to cross her arms. When she looked back at Nico, it was clear he’d seen exactly what she had.

“That wasn’t a thirteen, was it?”

Her eyes fell shut, knowing it was a direct question she couldn’t lie to him. Lying by omission had been hard enough.

“No.”

“Jack’s who you’ve been spending all your time with?”

“Yes.”

Nico nodded once, his face impossible to read, and disappeared down the hall to his bedroom. Emilie sighed to herself as she looked back down at the 86 printed onto the hoodie. She didn’t even know when she’d picked it up from Jack’s, much less why she hadn’t realised what it was when she’d pulled it over her head that morning.

She sent a quick text to Jack—‘Nico knows. I’ll call you after I’ve talked to him’—and took a steadying breath before following Nico down the hall and knocking gently on his door frame.

“Yeah?”

Peaking around the corner, Emilie felt her heart in her throat. Nico didn’t make her nervous, typically, but the unchartered territory she was approaching had her uncertain.

He didn’t seem mad, so that was a relief. His face was contorted, though, confusion and hurt displayed for the entire world to see.

“I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” Emilie said, entering the room and standing at the end of Nico’s bed. His hands stilled on the clothes in his open suitcase. “It wasn’t even supposed to be anything and then it became something and… I’m in way over my head here.”

“You’re telling me. Did you think I’d be mad? That I tell you I couldn’t? Because he’s my best friend and I can’t think of anybody I’d rather you date—and I think you’d be good for him, too. I just don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me.”

“Can I tell you now?” she asked hopefully. “I’d like to tell you. I really like him.”

Nico’s face shifted into a small smile, the underlying hurt not entirely disappearing, and he told Emilie to sit down while he unpacked.

“Tell me.”

The knock at the apartment door had Emilie running to it because she no longer had to be subdued about Jack’s arrival. She threw her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him, absolutely catching Luke in the head with a stray elbow as she did so, judging by the pained noise he made.

“Love that this is something I have to look forward to, now,” Luke grumbled, pushing past them and their doorway make out session.

Jack smiled against Emilie’s mouth.

They held hands as they walked into the apartment, Emilie’s heart swelling when Jack’s fingers entwined with hers instead of pulling away.

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[youaintnothinbuta]

“I saw you up there, Romeo.” — jack kelly x reader

Summary: Drabble where Jack finally makes his (subtle) move on you after he’s been pining for ages in secret. He does it at Medda’s performance at the theatre, leaving you to go home smiling to yourself with excitement.

Pairing: jack kelly x reader

Word count: 614

Warnings: none!! Fluffy jack <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and some of the newsies had gathered to head to theatre, Medda being kind enough to offer you any seats that weren’t sold scattered throughout the place. In the midst of Medda's performance, you caught Jack's eye. He winked at you, his mischievous grin suggesting that he had something up his sleeve. Just as you were about to mouth a questioning “What?” he subtly motioned for you to follow him.

Curiosity piqued, you exchanged a glance with Spot, who raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. With a nod, he silently encouraged you to see what Jack was up to.

Jack led you to a small side door that opened to a hidden balcony overlooking the theatre. The view was breathtaking—Medda's performance was visible from a unique vantage point, and the music filled the air in a way that felt more intimate.

"Thought you might like this," Jack said with a grin, leaning against the balcony railing. You gazed out at the stage, the beauty of the moment leaving you speechless.

"Thanks, Jack," you finally whispered, your voice tinged with genuine appreciation.

"Anytime, Y/N," he replied with a shrug, a soft smile playing on his lips.

As you watched Medda’s performance, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Jack sitting beside you. It wasn’t often, in fact, it was never, that you got any alone time with him, despite having a small under-the-radar crush on him.

The way his eyes twinkled with mischief, the warmth of his presence beside you—it all filled you with a sense of comfort and thrill. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, your knee brushed against his, a gentle gesture that seemed to convey more than words ever could. You felt your heart flutter as Jack’s knee responded in kind, pressing it purposely next to yours.

Encouraged by the subtle connection, your hands began to inch closer together. With each minute that passed, Jack’s pinky finally found its way over yours, intertwining in a silent promise of solidarity and support.

As the show progressed, you found yourselves sitting closer and closer together, the space between you shrinking until it was almost nonexistent. Jack’s arm draped casually around your shoulders, pulling you close as if to shield you from the outside world.

After the final curtain call, you and Jack exchanged a knowing glance before slipping away from the balcony and back to the others. Making up an excuse, you gave him a hug goodbye, neither of you acknowledging the recent developments that had occurred.

After you left, Jack quickly snuck backstage, Medda arching an eyebrow at Jack’s return. “I saw you up there, Romeo,” she said with a knowing smirk. “Congratulations, you finally made you move.”

Jack chuckled, his grin widening as he met her gaze. “We were just enjoying the show,” he replied nonchalantly, though the glimmer in his eyes betrayed him.

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Medda’s lips as she studied him. “You’re a good kid, Jack,” she remarked, her tone softened by genuine fondness. “But I’ve got my eye on you. Don’t go causing a trouble, okay?”

Jack chuckled, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Who, me? Trouble? Never,” he replied with mock innocence, earning a playful swat from Medda.

“Uh-huh, sure,” she teased, though there was warmth in her laughter. “Now, run along before someone catches you sneaking around backstage. “And hey,” she said, making Jack pause his steps, “You be good to her.”

With a nod and a grin, Jack tipped an imaginary hat in Medda’s direction before disappearing into the bustling corridors of the theater. As he made his way back out into the night, a sense of contentment washed over him. Back at the lodging house, you were helping the younger girls get to bed, brushing hair, fixing sheets, the usual. Jack, on the way to his room, quickly poked his head around the corner. You looked up, your cheeks turning pink.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He spoke, his cheeky grin making an appearance.

“Goodnight, Jack.” You replied, your fingers busy braiding the youngest girl Lacey’s hair.

“Night girls,” he added, tapping the doorframe and walking away, earning a chorus of mini voices saying “night Jack” in response. He couldn’t stop smiling until well into his sleep that night, much the same as you.

Guys ending fanfics is so hard for me it’s like do I write 2000 more words or cut it off here :/

[stomach-bugg09]

hi you absolutely do not need to do this but I thought of it last night. (Almost woke up the entire house) can you do a lo'ak x twin sister reader were lo'ak and reader are just walking along the beach holding pinkes maybe just a way they bond (while netayam is spying on them 😑), and they just kick the water from time to time, then reader makes the so called "great discussion" to flick a bit of water at lo'ak with her tail then lo'ak splashed her back and it just ended up a whole spash war then netayam gets in on it, and there just splashing each other, throwing wet sand at there faces, hissing, I find it hilarious when they hiss at each other and there like "come at me bro try me come on-" (its how me and MY siblings bond) then jake and neytiry have to drag them home while there still hissing at each other then netayam like basically throw himself at reader and then jake and neytiry come back like 2 minutes later and see reader has pined netayam on the floor and she's all like "hehe haha funny funny" until they actually get in trouble for it...... sorry this is really specific I just like it, but yeah. Have a absolutely great day/night

summary: [y/n], lo’ak, and neteyam are caught by their parents in the middle of a very important water fight.

a/n: hope you enjoy !! it’s kind of short and sweet , but full of sibling bonding + fighting , a recipe for disaster. thanks for the request. reblogs + feedback are always appreciated !!

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @itssiaaax @grierpilots @fleurbeass @eywas-heir @historygeekqueen @missroro

warnings: nothing honestly , just the sully siblings wrestling with each other , lo’ak throwing sand , tails and ears being tugged , disappointed parents

words: 1.2k

water fight

lo’ak’s pinky was warm against her own. the two walked alongside the water, the consistent crash of salty cold brushing overtop their feet and igniting a chill across [y/n]’s arms. their arms rocked back and forth as they walked, talking and walking without much goal in mind. merely just to catch up.

they liked to do this quite a bit. a session of gossip ( mainly from [y/n] ) and drama to refresh their brains as they walked together. like twin bonding!

“and you would not believe what she said!” [y/n] said, her voice hushing to build up the suspense.

lo’ak shook his head, playing along with her energy. “don’t tell me—”

“yes!” her voice rose, shaking her head with amusement. “she said it. like, who in their right mind?”

it was stupid stuff, nothing worthy of true attention. but, it was fun, and that’s all they needed. the words would relay between the two, but none of it had true weight, and oftentime lo’ak forgot everything they discussed the moment that they returned home. he just loved to entertain his sister.

after a month of living among the metkayina people, they had even more gossip to exchange, some of which included some prodding questions.

“anyway, enough about me,” [y/n] trailed, biting her bottom lip to keep a smile off of her face. “what about you?”

lo’ak scrunched his eyebrows. “what about me?” she never asked about his gossip. she knew he was useless when it came to that stuff!

she groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes so far back that her pupils seemed to have been swallowed by the back of her head for a second. “i mean, what about you and tsireya?”

[y/n] let out a loud laugh at the face he pulled, a deep indigo crawling up his neck. “nothing,” he demanded, voice far too strong for it so be convincing.

“you are a terrible liar.” with that, [y/n] felt the cold water wash over, and as an immediate reaction, she decided to lift her tail upward in a swift motion. with the action came a good bit of water that splashed right onto her brother.

she stopped immediately, hands cupping over her mouth as to contain her laughter. amusement and concern for her life flooded her eyes as she flickered between watching lo’ak’s face and watching his own tail.

[y/n] shrieked as she received the same treatment she gave him, her own arm getting soaked in return. “lo’ak!” she cried, voice whiny as she choked out laughter.

just as she was about to push him over into the wet sand, a movement flickered in her peripheral vision. lo’ak seemed to notice it too, because he immediately fell to a pause, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

the pair of twins narrowed their eyes, turning slowly. a smile broaden on [y/n]’s face when she saw neteyam frozen in front of them.

he blinked, standing and staring like an idiot. awkwardly, he lifted his arm and waved. “uh, hi!”

“were you spying, big brother?” [y/n] inquired, taking a step forward as she teased him. her tail swished to and fro, watching the way neteyam’s facial expressions changed.

“uh,” he trailed, clearing his throat. “no! of course not.” neteyam knew he was a goner the moment the set of twins exchanged a mischievous look.

before any of them knew it, the trio ended up tussling in the sand. tails and ears were tugged, playful punches were thrown ( softly… well, soft enough ), water was splashed, and all three of them were absolutely demolished by the rising tide.

they wrestled right next to the water, the waves soaking and re-soaking them in a very consistent manner. it seemed like every few seconds they were getting water boarded! but, of course, the geniuses decided it was too much work to move locations.

the fight escalated the moment lo’ak released a fistful of wet sand directly into his sister’s face.

“asshole!” she screeched, jumping on top of him. the tide was rising second by second, and she grinned as the wave flooded directly over his face. “that’s karma.” lo’ak hissed at his sister in response.

unfortunately, her glory was short-lived as neteyam came from behind and grabbed her. she was, once again, screaming for her life as he threw her into the surf.

once she resurfaced, she sputtered, wiping salty water from her eyes. “i’m going to murder you!”

before she could pounce on her eldest brother, she felt a larger pair of hands grab her shoulders, pulling her back into a warm embrace. “[y/n]!” he scolded from above.

immediately, she dropped her head sheepishly. “hey, dad.”

“all three of you realize that you’re in trouble, right?” their silence affirmed his question. he nodded, rolling his eyes.

“why must you make every day difficult?” neytiri held her sons’ biceps firmly, going back and forth from looking at each of them with a disappointed look.

after a beat, lo’ak offered, “well, at least we weren’t fighting any metkayina this time?”

[y/n] fought the smile that attempted to emerge onto her face, feeling the annoyed energy of her father that stood directly behind her. when lo’ak looked back down at his feet, she knew jake had sent a very disapproving look.

neteyam nearly laughed, but quickly covered it up with a cough.

a few seconds later, after a moment of trying to think it through on how to approach the issue, jake decided, “it’s time to go back. it’s nearly eclipse, and you would have known that if you weren’t fighting each other.”

[y/n] nodded slowly, eyes wide. “right,” she trailed.

the sully father tugged on her ear. “attitude,” he warned, to which she bit her bottom lip to hold back laughter. it became even more difficult when she caught the eyes of her brothers.

the walk home was awkwardly silent, the few times that [y/n] attempted to speak to either of her brothers being immediately shut down by the parents.

“this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t thrown sand at my face—”

“quiet, [y/n].”

“yes, sir.”

or the occasional “accidental” step on her tail.

the third time that she felt the pressure, she turned to her brother with her teeth bared. “neteyam i swear to eywa—”

“[y/n]!” neytiri hissed, grabbing her by the ear to which [y/n]’s eyes watered and she clawed her mothers wrist.

once they finally reached the marui, the parents had to, unfortunately, speak to tonowari and ronal. as a result, they told kiri that she was in charge. of course, the eldest girl of the family only nodded with a roll of her eyes. there was no way she would get in the way of their fights!

it’d been two minutes of jake and neytiri’s absence, and once they returned, they both groaned at the sight of [y/n] sitting on top of lo’ak’s back, her fingers pulling at his hair. neteyam’s ankles were stuck in lo’ak’s grip as he attempted to crawl away.

the moment they re-entered the marui, the children all went completely silent, staring at their parents.

the first thing to break the silence was [y/n]’s laughter. “whoops!”