Heyy Could U Do Another Part Of Baby!reader But Maybe Having Dean Telling Sam Who She Is

꒰ lick it up, fucking eat. ᮫ ⭒

married!ellie x interior designer! reader Summary: Ellie hires you to bring her shitty wife’s so-called "dream home" to life, but you end up fufilling something else.

The house was silent, save for the low hum of the air conditioning, which flowed through the sprawling, half-renovated living room. You stood in front of a swatch of paint samples, holding each one up to the fading light from the bay window. The sun dipped low, casting golden fingers across the unfinished floorboards, hinting at what the space might look like when it was finally complete. Ellie watched you from across the room, leaning casually against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her gaze drifting between you and the wall.

“That one,” she muttered, jerking her chin toward the beige sample you held. Her voice was laced with something close to disdain. “She thinks it’s ‘elegant.’ "

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the shade—a flat, muted tone that felt as lifeless as the drywall it would cover. "Well," you replied, “if she wants ‘elegant,’ I’m sure we can do more than beige."

Ellie’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, a glint of something both dark and playful in them. She pushed off the wall, coming a little closer, her boots scuffing against the rough wood. "Exactly what I was thinking," she murmured, her gaze lingering on you a second too long before shifting to the wall.

You let out a quiet breath, suddenly very aware of the way her presence filled the room, heavy and warm, with a pull that seemed to demand attention. Her sleeves were pushed up, revealing her tattooed forearm—faintly smudged paint stains and a few scratches etched across her knuckles. Her messy hair fell into her eyes, and she brushed it away, glancing down at the floorboards as if they might give her the answers she was looking for.

“So… if it were completely up to you,” she continued, her voice softer now, “what would you do with the place?”

You felt a small jolt of excitement, surprised that she cared enough to ask your opinion. You took a slow breath, letting yourself look around the room with fresh eyes. "Something warm, to make the room feel alive. Maybe custom furniture, something that doesn’t look like it’s from a catalog."

She nodded slowly, her gaze following yours as you spoke, but there was something deeper, something unspoken in the way she looked at you. Like this wasn’t about the walls or the furniture.

"We could go for that," she said, and her voice dropped, quiet, the weight of her words sinking into the empty space between you. "Anything that makes this place feel less… hers."

Your heart fluttered at the faint edge of bitterness in her voice, the quiet rebellion hiding beneath her sarcasm. She was closer now, close enough that you could feel her warmth radiating toward you in the cooling room, close enough that you could see every detail of her: the subtle flecks of green in her eyes, the faint line of a scar near her temple.

You reached out, brushing your fingers over a scratch on the windowsill. "This place could be incredible. It just needs to feel lived in, loved.”

Ellie swallowed, her eyes following your hand. “Can you fullfill that?,” she murmured, and there was a softness in her voice now, something that made your stomach flip.

Your breath caught, pulse quickening as you felt the subtle shift in the air between you. The moment held a thread of tension, tight and fragile, like something waiting to be snapped. You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’d love to show you. Just need a little… freedom with the choices.”

Ellie’s smirk returned, faint but laced with something deeper, "Freedom, huh?" She stepped back, giving you a lingering once-over before nodding, her voice a low murmur. "Yeah… I think we can work something out."

She pulled her gaze away reluctantly, as if forcing herself to break the spell, and you felt the strange tug of her absence, the fading warmth of her presence as she retreated toward the hallway. "Just… no beige," she added, her back already turned, her voice drifting down the hall like an invitation. 

You stood there, the glow of the setting sun washing over you, you realized you felt a thrill. 

The days passed in a blur of decisions, late-night calls with suppliers, and a dozen small, carefully calculated adjustments to make the space feel warmer, more vibrant—despite the rigid input from Ellie’s wife. You’d spent the afternoon with her, going over fixture placements and fabric swatches. She was precise, clinical, every suggestion an opportunity to correct, to refine, to turn down anything that dared to stand out.

Ellie’s wife stood in the middle of the room, studying the sofa with a critical eye. She let out a sigh, her fingers skimming over the velvet, dismissing it as though it were somehow beneath her. “I thought I made it clear I wanted something more sophisticated. This feels… almost flashy.” Her gaze landed on you, thinly veiled irritation simmering beneath her smile.

You opened your mouth to explain the intention behind the choice when the front door opened. Ellie walked in, still in her work clothes, a slight weariness to her step. Her gaze moved from you to her wife.

Ellie’s wife immediately turned to her, her posture stiffening. “There you are. I was just telling our designer here that this,” she gestured to the room around her with an air of distaste, “is not what we discussed.”

Ellie’s face tightened, a frustrated, almost exasperated look clouding her eyes. “ A little color wouldn’t kill you.”

“Yes, but I expected you’d listen to what I actually wanted.” She crossed her arms, her gaze pointed. “This was supposed to be tasteful, Ellie. Not… whatever this is.”

Ellie let out a dry laugh, brushing past her, stepping closer to you as she took in the room. “And by ‘tasteful,’ you mean dull walls and soulless furniture. Right?” 

Her wife’s eyes flashed, and she folded her arms tighter. “It’s not my fault you don’t understand the concept of refinement.”

Ellie’s jaw clenched, her hand flexing at her side. “God, do you even hear yourself? It’s a fucking home, not a damn workplace. Just—" she glanced over at you, her face softening briefly as if realizing you were caught in the middle. "Never mind.”

You held your breath, feeling the tension swell, a raw kind of frustration radiating between them. But Ellie’s wife was relentless, her voice sharp and dismissive. “Oh, here we go again. You act like I’m asking for something ridiculous. Just admit it—you’re the one who’s never satisfied. You’re the one who thinks everything has to be some big, meaningful statement. Not everything’s about you, Ellie!”

Ellie’s face flushed, her eyes flashing with something dangerously close to anger. She opened her mouth, then closed it, a defeated breath slipping past her lips as she seemed to reconsider. She cast one last glance at you, and you felt that familiar pull between you—a silent, unspoken understanding—and then, with a shake of her head, Ellie stormed off, her shoes echoing down the hallway until the door slammed behind her.

Silence swallowed the room, leaving you and her wife alone once more. 

“See what I have to deal with?” she muttered, shaking her head. "She gets these weird ideas about what’s ‘creative’ or ‘cool’ and just… doesn’t listen to reason. She doesn’t even understand what it takes to make a space look sophisticated. Her taste—it’s like a teenager trying to decorate a dorm room."

You felt your grip tighten on the sample book, but you forced yourself to stay professional. “Well, Ellie did mention she wanted something with a bit more character.”

Her wife snorted, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh. “Exactly. Character. She’s so out of touch with what a home needs to feel welcoming. She can’t just accept that maybe—just maybe—she doesn’t know better than me.”

She flipped past a deep, velvety forest green swatch Ellie had specifically loved. “This green? I mean, it’s hideous. Who even wants a dark color like that in their home? It’s depressing.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at the swatch she’d just discarded. “It could add some depth to the space. Sometimes dark colors bring a warmth that—”

Her wife gave you a sharp look, like you’d crossed some invisible line. She forced a tight smile. “Trust me,” she said, voice dripping with condescension, “there’s nothing to ‘deepen’ here. I know what I want, and I don’t need Ellie’s… outlandish tastes cluttering up my vision.”

The house had transformed into a hive of activity, buzzing with the sounds of hammers, paint rollers, and snippets of conversation as workers bustled around. Every corner of the room felt alive with movement, a stark contrast to the emptiness you’d felt days prior. Furniture was being hauled in, drapes were hung, and the walls were beginning to take on their new colors. Yet despite the flurry of activity, your attention was divided, searching the room more often than not for a familiar face.

And then, as if on cue, Ellie appeared.

She wove through the workers, carrying a crumpled paper bag in one hand and balancing two cups of coffee in the other. She wore a smile, her messy hair peeking out from under a faded baseball cap, a glimmer of excitement lighting up her face as she caught your eye. She slipped between a worker with a paint can and another adjusting a lamp, until finally, she stopped in front of you. 

Ellie held up the bag with a faint smile. “Thought you could use a break,” she said, nudging the bag into your hands. “There’s a place around the corner that makes delicious pastries.”

Surprised and a little touched, you opened the bag, the warm, sweet scent wafting out immediately. “Thank you.”

The noise of the workers faded into a distant hum, becoming a mere backdrop to the moment as you took a bite of the pastry. The warm sweetness melted on your tongue, rich and comforting, drawing a soft sigh from your lips. But in your enjoyment, you didn’t notice the crumb that fell, catching just at the corner of your lips. 

Ellie did, though.

In the midst of all the clamor—the sharp buzz of saws cutting through wood, the metallic clinking of hammers striking nails, and the sound of her wife’s sharp voice scolding a worker about the paint application—Ellie stepped closer, her expression suddenly serious.

Her fingers were careful, warm, and impossibly soft as they brushed the crumb from your lips. You felt her fingertip linger there, feather-light, barely skimming your skin, but enough to make your breath catch.

Her gaze held yours, deep green eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion that pulled you in. Ellie’s fingers felt electric against your skin, her knuckles resting against your cheek, the warmth radiating from her touch contrasting with the cool air of the room. Ellie’s eyes dropped for just a heartbeat, shifting from your gaze to your mouth, where her thumb hovered near your lip. You could feel your heart racing, each beat echoing in your ears as she lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

You could hear her breath hitch slightly as her fingers finally pulled away, leaving your skin cold in their absence.

“Fuck” she murmured, voice low and just a little hoarse. Her gaze drifted to your lips one last time, almost on purpose, before she forced her eyes to focus anywhere but on you. 

You remember when the affair began.

It was a cold winter, the kind that seeped into your bones, making everything feel heavy and muffled. Snow blanketed the world outside, a serene white glow through the window. 

Ellie was pressed against you, her body radiating heat as she leaned in closer, her face achingly near yours. You could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with the cool air between you. Her hands flexed around your hips, desperate to grip them, to anchor herself to you. 

There was a desperation.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” She pleaded, her voice strained,  a wish that perhaps if you rejected her, if you spoke the words she needed to hear, the desires swirling for you would vanish. 

But as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch, the world around you blurred.  A shiver raced down your spine, igniting something deep within you—a spark that flared into a flame, daring you to give in. 

“I need you,” Ellie breathed, the urgency in her voice sending warmth pooling in your stomach. Her words ghosted over your skin, leaving a trail of heat that made it impossible to think straight. “I need to feel you, to taste you. Please, let me have you…” 

You could see it in her eyes—the hunger, the need. 

Your lips touched Ellie’s, slowly, tentatively at first. You hesitated for a moment, searching her eyes for any sign of hesitation, any hint that this was a mistake. But all you found was a dark hunger reflected in her gaze, a need that mirrored your own. The soft sound of falling snow outside barely registered as you leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of her body.

Ellie’s lips then pressed against yours, slow and soft, “Oh, fuck.” she gasped, her breath warm against your mouth. 

It was all you needed. 

You kissed her again, this time deeper and more sensual, losing yourself in the taste of her. Every brush of your lips was a question, every stroke of your tongue an answer. Savoring the way her tongue stroked against yours with caresses that left you breathless.

“God, you taste amazing,” she murmured against your lips. The way she spoke made you feel seen, desired, as if every part of you was exactly what she craved.

“Ellie…” you breathed, her name slipped from your lips so easily. 

Ellie’s kisses grew more urgent, each one a desperate plea for more as her hands gripped your hips with bruising force, anchoring you against the wall. Her lips trailed down your neck, gasping as her teeth grazed over your skin.  And then, without warning, she sucked hard, her mouth forming a seal against your neck. 

“Oh fuck..” you breathed, your voice aching to be more than a whisper. 

Ellie was already lost in her own world, her focus entirely on you, on the way your body responded to her touch.

"Shhh, we need to be quiet," she whispered, her voice low with need, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, pupils dilated with lust, a fiery spark that made your stomach knot.

Her hands wandered down your body, fingers tracing the contours of your ass, kneading the soft flesh as she pulled you closer, digging into your skin and leaving dents where her grip tightened.

"God, I can’t get enough of you." she breathed, her hands slipping to unbutton your jeans. Her fingers teased the waistband of your panties, dipping just beneath the fabric to caress your folds, igniting a heat through you. She kissed and nipped at your neck, her tongue flicking out to taste your sweat-slicked skin.

Her hand slid further into your panties, her fingers parting your slick folds to stroke your sensitive clit. You gasped, your mouth agape as she circled the swollen nub with a feather-light touch. Her other hand slid up your body, cupping your tit and kneading the soft mound. Her fingers found your hardened nipple, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud between her thumb and index finger.

"Oh fuck.." you hiccuped, “please.." 

Leaning down, ellie’s hot breath hovered over your sensitive skin before she took your nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. She moaned against your nipple, her tongue flicking against the hardened bud as she sucked hard, her teeth grazing your skin, making you gasp.

"Ellie," you begged, your voice strained with need. "I need more.”

Her eyes darkened with lust as she gazed at you, turned on by your desperate pleas. "Beg for it," she groaned, her voice low. Ellie's fingers stroked your slick folds, teasing your entrance but not yet delving inside. She circled your clit with light touches, making you buck your hips, seeking more friction.

“Please," you moaned. "Please, fuck me."

Apparently she didn’t need much convincing.

With an urgency, Ellie plunged two fingers knuckle-deep into your soaking cunt, curling them upward to stroke that sensitive spot inside you. The lewd sound of your juices squelching filled the air as she pumped her fingers in and out, stroking your inner walls with each thrust, her thumb rubbing soft circles around your aching clit.

"Atta girl.." Ellie groaned, her voice thick with desire. "Ride my fucking fingers."

"fuuck, right there," you moaned, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. 

You reached down to slide your hand to unbutton ellie’s jeans. Her belt clinking as her hips bucked forward. Your fingers crept beneath the waistband of her boxers, feeling the slick flesh of her dripping hole.

"Fuuck me," Ellie moaned, grinding her hips against your hand, spreading her thighs wider to give you more access to her aching cunt. Her movements were desperate, urging you to rub her swollen clit, the sensitive nub pulsing beneath your touch.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," she groaned, her perky tits bouncing slightly with each thrust. Her head rolling back in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself.

"Yes, just like that," You moaned, ellie’s fingers pumping faster in and out of your dripping cunt. She could feel your slick coating her fingers, your juices dripping down her wrist. Your hips jerked erratically, your stomach beginning to knot. With a sharp cry, you came, your pussy spasming around her fingers as you rode out your orgasm.

"That's it, cum for me," she moaned, rubbing your clit faster to prolong your pleasure. "Come all over my fucking fingers." Your body shuddered, your walls clenching around her as you milked her fingers for all they were worth. She could feel your juices gushing out, coating her hand and dripping onto the floor. Your moans filled the room, echoing obscenely off the walls.

Ellie slowly withdrew her fingers, feeling your walls clench around her as she pulled them out. Your juices coated her hand, glistening in the low light of the room.

She grabbed your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees. She hooked her thumbs in her waistband, shimmying her boxers down her thighs before stepping out of them. Ellie's pussy was glistening, she parted her folds to reveal her throbbing clit. She straddled your face, her dripping cunt hovering just above your mouth

“Fuck I -" Ellie moaned, grinding her hips down to press her pussy against your lips. “Fucking taste me.” Ellie's juices coated your mouth as you flicked your tongue out, lathering it along her slick folds before delving inside her dripping hole. Ellie's poor thighs trembled, her hands gripping your hair as she rode your face frantically, bringing her fingers to her lips, sucking your slick off of them with a low moan.

“You’re so fucking good," She groaned, her juices coating your mouth, dripping down your chin.

"That's it, right there," Ellie panted, her thighs trembling around your head. "Fuck, your tongue feels so good." Her hands gripped your hair, pulling you closer as she rutted against your mouth. 

"That's it, fuck, I'm gonna cum-," Ellie moaned, her hips jerking erratically. You plunged two fingers deep into Ellie's soaked cunt, her walls clenching around quickly, her juices gushing out. You sucked ellie's clit faster, feeling it twitch beneath your tounge as she came. 

“What the fuck!?” ellie’s wife excalimed. 

She had walked in, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the scene before her. 

Ellie was still straddling your face, her dripping pussy pressed against your mouth. The obsecene sounds of slurping and moaning filled the room, leaving no doubt as to what had been happening. 

You remember when the affair began. 

You remember when the affair ended.

about me!

abby. 8teen. she/her. latina/québécoise. media student.

NAVIGATION: masterlist ⋆ wattpad

BACKUP BLOG: @hollywoodmaneaters

requests!

i am always open for requests but just know that I have a tight school schedule. therefore, I might not always answer them fast enough. you can request whoever you like!!

I usually write reader as a female but you can always request for reader to be male or nonbinary!

side note!

english is not my first language. therefore I ask of you to be kind and if you see any mistakes let me know!

pls pls pls more lee byung hun 😩 but can you do it with actress!reader so their fans are also shipping them? love your content!

EGOT WINNER

lee byung-hun x actress!reader

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byunghun0712 my Oscar winner 🏆 I love you

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user10 I KNEW SHE WOULD WIN

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yourusername I wish to thank everyone for the love and support. It truly was an amazing experience and I am truly honored to be part of the EGOT winners! I’d like to thank my amazing boyfriend who keeps making me feel like the most important person in the world 🫶

yours truly,

your new EGOT winner

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a/n: thank you for the requests <3 i used a bunch of pictures of camilla morrone since im rewatching daisy jones and the six😭

Love, Mum and Dad - Harry, James x reader

summary: Harry gets the memory book you and James made for him to open on his 17th birthday, but he gets it a little sooner, and discovers things about the family he could have had. (angst/fluff) wc: 2.8k

Sirius didn’t know if it was the time to give Harry the memory book. The gift you’d planned on building until Harry was 17, when you’d finally give it to him. At James’s bachelor party — a small gathering between him, Sirius, Frank Longbottom and the Prewett twins (You had claimed Remus for your bachelorette), James had excitedly revealed what you’d told him. “She said, I want to start collecting all our memories from when we started dating to make a memory book. A memory book that we can keep making until our future baby is an adult, and then we’ll give it to him.” The boys had all cheered, giving James a few pats on the back. “So apparently she wants us to have a son, and I know exactly what I want to name him.” He had joyfully laughed along with the others, refusing to reveal the name of his future boy, claiming that it’s somehow bad luck.

Now that Harry was actually here at Grimmauld Place, even at the age of 15, Sirius knew he had to give him the book. Sirius knew Harry was insecure, doubting that anyone loved him at all, and especially facing such dark times, he knew Harry could use the love of his parents, a love that had saved his life once before.

Harry was a wanderer, he couldn’t sleep at night, so Sirius was not surprised to find him in his family’s make shift library, scanning through all the outdated titles. Sirius made himself known by clearing his throat from where he stood in the doorway. Harry jumped, spinning around to look at Sirius, who held the memory book in his right hand. Harry’s godfather told him to follow him to a private room, one with a pensieve he hadn’t seen before. “This is from your parents. They wanted to give it to you when you became an adult, but given the circumstances…” Sirius averted his teary gaze as Harry took the book in his hands, flicking through the pages, his breath becoming heavier as he caught glimpses of moving images in the book.

“Each and every memory… Just don’t forget to put them back.” And with that, a teary eyed Sirius left Harry alone. When Harry properly opened the first page of the photo book, he found small tubes with glimmering memories next to each photo. His breath shook. He looked at the first picture.

The first image of you and James had been taken from afar, as though someone had been spying on you. When he released the memory into the pensieve below, he quickly learned that Sirius and Remus had been the ones spying on you, on your first date. Harry had laughed, listening to Sirius constantly narrating everything to a muggle camera he held, watching as he and Remus quickly ran behind people to avoid being seen by you. Harry quickly learned through these memories that not every memory would make him laugh, and that he would actually shed a few more tears than intended.

This next memory was different than all the other celebrations — the anniversaries, the weddings — Harry realised, as he watched you nervously tuck your hair behind your ear. You were in the kitchen of the house you and James had just moved into. It wasn’t decorated yet, with the exception of a single image of you and James on your wedding day. Your entire house was barely furnished, with James taking on all the building due to the growing baby in your belly. Harry jumped up on the counter to watch the scene in front of him unfold. You had a worried crease between your eyebrows, and you leaned back on the counter, staring at the warm batch of cookies you had baked. James walked in front of you with a smile, his arms sliding under your sweater to rest on your small bump — one Harry hadn’t realised was present until James brought it to his attention. Harry hopped off the counter, taking slow steps towards you to admire your baby bump. He tried reaching out to touch it, but his hand went right through you.

“What if they say no James, what if they don’t want to?” You asked worriedly, looking up at James. “Baby,” James started with a chuckle, “They’re going to be the most excited people on earth.” You huffed doubtfully, a small pout on your lips that James happily pressed his lips to. “James.” You muttered, but before your new husband could reply, the front door slammed open. “Honey, I’m home!” Sirius loudly called, causing you and James to laugh, though you had clear distress laced in your voice. “I really don’t know why we keep apparating outside your front door when we just end up barging in anyway.” Sirius announced as he walked into the kitchen. “Oh hey, cookies!”“I for one, suggested to knock.” Clarified Remus as he followed his boyfriend into the room. James moved from where he stood in front of you so that your best friends could see you.

James tutted, snatching the plate of freshly bakes cookies from the table just as Sirius reached out to take one, causing the boy to frown. “In the living room.” The two boys went silent, Sirius running a hand through his hair as Remus nervously tugged on the sleeves of his sweater. James gestured to the door, letting the boys wander out so that he could wrap his free arm around your waist, tugging you close to his side to kiss your cheek.

Harry eagerly followed you all into the living room, which he noticed looked painfully bare. It looked like something that was becoming a family’s first home, though it wasn't quite there yet. There were so many pictures laid out on the coffee table, empty picture frames stacked beside them. In a corner of the room, tools were scattered on the floor, wooden parts and instructions beside them. Harry theorised that it might be a crib in the making.

“Okay, sit down, have a cookie.” You said, hands clasped in front of you. You took in a deep breath as Remus and Sirius both cautiously reached for a cookie, watching as James hugged you from behind, his hands snaking around your waist to rest on your stomach. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and decided to take initiative when you opened and closed your mouth a couple of times. “So you guys know we’re having a baby.” The two boys nodded, and Harry watched closely as Sirius put a hand on Remus’s thigh. “We want you guys to be the godparents!” You squeaked loudly, physically cringing as you revealed the information.

“Shut up!” Sirius screamed, immediately jumping up on his feet with a giant smile on his face as he ran up to hug you. James threw his hands up in the air jealously, watching his best friend hug his wife, and accepting the hug Remus offered him. “This is what you baked cookies for?” Remus asked with a smile when he let go of James to wrap his arms around you tightly. You nodded, tears filling your eyes, and Remus pulled you close to his chest as you sniffled. “So is that a yes?” Your question was immediately answered by the two boys, with Sirius saying “This calls for drinks!” before apologising profusely as he immediately realised that you could, in fact, not drink. This time when you laughed at his words, it was genuine.

Harry was smiling widely, desperate to join in on the shared hugs when he took notice of the lump in his throat that made it hard to swallow. Not wanting to cry, the teenager left the memory, returning it to its glass tube before putting the next one in the pensieve.

This time, Harry is somewhere new. Somewhere he’s never been before. A warm house, with a similar atmosphere to the Burrow. There’s bustling energy, and a special kind of joy in the air. The only person Harry recognises in the room is Sirius, who leads a woman into the living room of the house with an arm familiarly thrown over her shoulder. The woman looks like someone he knows, but he can’t tell who. It’s only when the mysterious woman is led towards an unknown man that it clicks for Harry. His father is the spitting image of the man in front of him, and therefore, so is he. “Oh Euphemia, I can’t believe we’re meeting our grandbaby.” The man says, hugging his wife tightly. The pair doesn’t look nearly old enough to have grandchildren, they barely look like they’re in their 40s. Someone comes in from the garden door, saying “I’ve picked the apples for you Mrs. Potter, is there anything else I can do?” But she only thanks Remus, who's wrapped in countless warm layers of clothing, asking him to put the apples in the kitchen.

There’s two soft knocks on the front door, and the entire room goes silent as James’s parents rush to open the door. James shyly smiles at them, his arm protectively wrapped around your side. Euphemia immediately bursts into tears when her eyes land on you and your newborn baby, only a few days old. Fleamont wraps his arms around his son, who instantly begins crying like his mother, and Remus ushers you into the house, closing the door behind you to protect you from the chilly weather. Euphemia wants to hug you, but she's too busy wiping her tears away as she asks questions about your health and delivery, making sure you’re okay. You nudge your husband’s side, and he happily takes Harry from your arms, showing him off to the other three men in the room.

Euphemia hugs you tightly before leading you to sit down and instantly handing you some tea. She lets the men rave over the little baby boy, but she’s concerned for the new mother's health. It doesn’t take long for James to come back to your side carrying Harry in his arms, and he takes his mother’s place next to you on the couch. He doesn’t let anyone hold Harry, too happy to finally be able to hold him himself after you've spent nine months doing so. Present Harry walks across the room, between Sirius and his grandfather, over the gifts on the floor and past his beautiful grandmother to sit on the arm of the couch next to you. He looks at his young sleeping figure, only born days ago, and knows how much he is loved. By his parents, grandparents, godparents, and all your friends and family.

And he knows it’s too much. All Harry ever wanted was for his parents to be alive, and the thought of the life he could be living with them right now makes him feel as though his heart has been ripped out of his chest. He would do anything to be back in that position again: in his parents’ arms, a joyful family around him. He didn’t even need his grandparents there; you two would have been enough.

Harry needs to take a moment for himself when he finally breaks away from his memory. He leans on a table for support, taking in heaving breaths as he sobs and sobs, tears dripping on the ground. The small glass tube containing the memory rolls onto the floor and Harry dives to catch it, holding it close to his chest as pain runs through his entire body. These memories should have made him happy, he thinks, so why do they hurt so much? Harry gasps for oxygen, trying to urge his panic and sadness away, trying to turn it into happiness for the things he had, for the love he still has. Slowly, he pushes himself off the ground, moving all the way to the last page of your memory book and taking out the corresponding tube.

When Harry is sucked into the pensieve again, the atmosphere has completely changed. He’s located back at home again, in Godric’s Hollow, where you and James had built your forever home. The sole sight of the homey and safe atmosphere has tears clouding Harry’s vision again, but his feet bring him further down the entryway and into the living room of your house. The first thing Harry does is take in the sight of the decorated house, made to look like his very own heaven. The lighting is warm, photos of family and friends hung up on the wall next to the fireplace. The room is filled with plants, and a small crib was placed next to an armchair. And here you are: sat there with James on the couch, sharing a passionate kiss. The moment is intimate, with your legs tangled up and James’s hand cupping your jaw, but Harry can’t bring himself to look away from you. “James.” He hears you mumble in the kiss, eyes fluttering open as you let James’s familiarity envelop you. “My sweetheart.” James echoes, his eyes still shut as he immerses himself in the moment.

Harry gulps loudly, harshly wiping a tear off his cheek as he watches his dad’s eyes slowly open, a wide smile forming on his face when he finds your eyes already on him. You laugh softly as your husband kisses you again, but you instantly pull away from him, eyes going wide with alert. Harry frowns, his expression matching his father’s, and that’s he he hears it: the soft padding of feet on the floor, and a quiet call of “Mama?” Harry’s eyes are instantly glued to his younger self, appearing around the corner on wobbly feet.

Your body runs past him in a flash, travelling across the living room on quick feet to kneel in front of your son. Young Harry makes grabby hands at you, and you immediately scoop him up in your arms, speaking to him in a soft whisper. “What’s wrong sweetheart? You hungry?” You ask, cradling him in your arms. Young Harry makes an incomprehensible noise, and Harry laughs in adoration. He has to be a year or two in this memory. Harry glances back to where James now stands up, walking over to his family, where he wraps his arms around both of you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Think he’s hungry.” You tell your husband, who hums, leading you to the couch to sit down. James helps you pull your jumper up just enough for baby Harry to latch on to your breast, humming in innocent satisfaction. You smile down at him, running a hand through his soft short hair. James carefully wraps an arm around your shoulder, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as you blink tiredly. Harry stares at the perfect image of the family in front of him, and soon enough, realises he’s not the only one crying. James is sniffling next to you, taking in shaky breaths in a poor attempt not to disturb you or baby Harry. You lift your head off your husband’s shoulder to look up at him, and smile lovingly at him, a hand lifting off the back of Harry’s head to wipe at James’s tears. “James.” You whisper, and he instantly opens his mouth, voice breaking as he says “I love you both so, so much.” And his words have a sob wracking out of present Harry’s chest.

He floats out of the memory just as you bring James into a short kiss, the sight of him being loved by his parents the last thing he sees before finding himself standing at the foot of the pensieve again. Harry shuts the memory book, closing his eyes tightly — it’s enough for one lonesome night. But something catches his attention as his hand rests on the back of the book. An odd texture under his fingertips, forming crevices into the leather. Harry’s eyes flutter open, and he notices a gold engraving into the book. Engravings that form letters, words. A note.

Dear Harry,

You’re finally an adult!!! You can do anything you ever wanted, even without our permission. And move out if we’re too annoying sometimes, though that feels wrong to write with you sitting in front of us as a little baby boy. We just wanted you to know that no matter where you are, or what you’re doing, we’ll always support you and be here for you. And not just us, everyone in this book, everyone who forms your family.

We love you so much Harry, and even though you’re all grown now, you’ll always be our baby, just like in these first memories.

Love,

Mum and Dad

To say the least, Harry doesn't sleep that night.

i love how s3 finale completely flips our perspective on the hunt from the pilot. half of the girls weren’t even hunting. van standing over the pit seemed so menacing in the pilot but now it’s just heartbreaking. mari being pit girl, not because the wilderness chose but because shauna chose. mari was only wearing a nightdress so she could use her clothes as a decoy. and turns out mari was a decoy while the others tried to get rescue. misty removing her mask and smiling not because they caught mari but because they’re getting rescued and there’s nothing shauna can do about it. the hair on the antler queen costume wasn’t a collection of various victims’ hair, it was just mari’s. this whole time we thought it was all the girls collectively giving in to the hunt and the wildness of it, but really it was just shauna, along with lottie and tai. none of them wanted to do a hunt, none of them wanted mari to be chosen.

PAIRING: teen dad!scott barringer

FLUFF ❦

Scott Barringer never saw or even considered himself as an artist. But as they say, a good parent would do anything to make his kid happy. And well, Scott would not be the type of dad to neglect his daughter when she asked him to draw with her. His elbows were deep in crayons, painstakingly trying to draw something that actually looked like a cat—because Ava insisted.

And, well. Scott couldn't bring himself to say no to her.

Not when she’s all tiny and bright-eyed, swinging her little legs under the too-small, blue, plastic table, clutching a crayon in her chubby fingers while she babbles non-stop.

“An’ den—an’ den, Emmy tooked da blue one an’ said ‘mine,’ but it was myyy tuwn, Daddy, an’ she no shawe!”

Scott had to actually stop being so focused on making his horrible cat look less like a deformed sock to glance up and maintain eye contact. He had learned that made ava more delight during conversations “Uh-huh?”

Ava huffs, crossing her arms, all sass and righteous baby anger. “S’not nice, Daddy.”

Scott nodded solemnly, like he had just heard about some serious betrayal. “Yeah, sounds messed up, Missy.”

She pouted all serious, dramatically scribbling angry little swirls on her paper. “It was!”

Scott smirked, before looking down at his drawing. Well..maybe he should invest in some basic skills to at least look proffesional to his daughter. With a defeated sigh, he let go of the crayon, resting his chin on his palm, watching her. “So what’d you do?”

Ava blinked up at him, big round eyes serious as hell.

“…I bited hew.”

Scott froze. He swore he saw his entire life flash before his eyes.

“…You what.”

Ava just nodded, completely unbothered, grabbing a purple crayon.

Scott deadpanned “Missy. We talk about our problems, we don’t bite people.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Why?”

Scott exhaled, staring at his two-year-old like he’s about to have a full-on existential crisis. “Because—because that’s not how we solve things.”

Ava's brows furrowed at that, clearly thinking deeply about this. After a long second of silence, with the most serious, wise-beyond-her-years expression she muttered “Hmph. Maybe Emmy leawn shawe now.”

"No, you bite food, not people. Biting people bad, biting food good"

Ava just grinned and went back to scribbling, completely pleased with herself.

Scott shook his head, sighing. He should probably have a more responsible reaction to this, but honestly?

He’s just a little proud. He'll deal with it later. When you'll come back and head about this too. Because from who did she learn biting?!

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden @cherriies-snake @skywalkerssgirl

𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱 𝔅𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

- how you meet, dating, your story together, how he is, etc.. | Fluff . TW: minor mentions of trauma. Some swearing, he called user a bitch. A bit of pervy humor.

🩹 Scott Barringer and you met at Mount Horizon. You were pretty much settled and well liked in the Cliffhangers group when he joined. Like the girls of said group, you were curious about the blonde with the bad attitude. It didn't take long to learn how hostile and nearly unapproachable he was, like most troubled teens when they first arrived. Since Juliet and Shelby seemed to have this little competition for his attention going on, you decided to not get involved, keeping your interactions to a minimum. It wasn't difficult, considering how douchy he was at the beginning of his stay.

🩹 You share a rather similar trauma to Katherine and large bodies of water make you terribly anxious after an accident, not that you speak about it. Scott is quite the trickster and is known to hold grudges, both of you argued over something the other day, which is why he had the moronic idea to push you into the lake. If the Cliffhangers disliked Scott before, they absolutely hated his guts after this, especially since he froze and Peter was the one who jumped after you. “W-what? It's not my fault the bitch can't swim or whatever...” He muttered, but the reality was that Scott had been absolutely terrified. Getting along with him after this was certainly a challenge, Scott didn't make it easy, his own trauma and shame prevented him from doing the right thing, but he eventually had the guts to tell you he was sorry. You almost ignored him, but then you noticed how close to tears he was. Alas, a small flicker of vulnerability that proved Scott was human after all.

He walked into the empty library, it was after curfew, but you were reading quietly on a sofa. Scott hesitated for a couple of seconds, the only reason he was there was because he knew he'd find you, but now that he can see you, he can't seem to talk. What could he say, anyways? It's not a secret that you want to be as far as possible from him, ever since the incident.

“... What do you want?” Your tone isn't exactly friendly, something he knew he deserved, it doesn't stop Scott from flinching though. “Seriously Scott, you don't even read, so why are you here?”

“To talk to you,” he says, trying to not sound too defensive. He sighs. “Can I do that, please? You don't have to say anything... You don't even have to talk to me, just... Hear me out?” Scott stared, pleading quietly, hoping you'll grant him that.

Crossing your arms you decide to humor him, just to hear what he has to say. “Make it fast.”

He gives you a bit of a nod, grateful, even if his heart was hammering against his chest hard enough to break it.

“Listen I...” Scott swallowed, hard, feeling a bump in his throat that prevents him from speaking properly. He takes a sharp breath, hands running through his tousled hair. “I didn't want to hurt you, okay? You need to know that. If I had been aware of your... I never would have- I mean, G-God, I could've... It was never m-my intention, you get that, right? I-I know I'm a dick but I really didn't think... And uhm... I- I'm s-so... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry.” He sniffles, scratching the back of his head in desperation, he hates how pathetic he feels when he cries, but this is something that has been tormenting him. The idea of you possibly having trouble sleeping after he pushed you made him want to crawl in a hole and never come back. “I s-swear I didn't want to h-hurt you. And if I set back your recovery... F-fuck, I'm so sorry, please...” He sobbed, thick tears sliding over his reddened cheeks. “You have to believe me.”

It was in this moment that you hated how compassionate and soft you are, a couple of tears and your heart was practically breaking. Unbelievable.

“I know you are...” you sighed. “But what you did was so fucking dumb, Scott.”

“I know! I know! And I hate myself for doing this to you, I had no idea.” He looks away, breathing through his mouth. He looked absolutely pathetic, struggling with himself. “A-and you're not a bitch... I'm sorry for calling you that.”

“You called me a bitch? What, when?”

He continued to cry, trying to make his case before you decide you've had enough of him. “I thought you knew how to swim, I've heard about you being in a team and everything!! What I didn't know was the reason for you to be here. I swear for everything that I hold dear, that I wouldn't have pushed you if I knew...”

You rolled your eyes, muttering “I do know how, I just kinda can't anymore... I freeze, I don't like to talk about it.”

Scott nods, wiping his eyes.

“...I could have jumped after you, I stood there like a moron because I didn't know if you were being for real... and I—” He kept talking, to a point where you could no longer understand him. It was a little frustrating because you wanted to be mad at him, to be petty, to hold a grudge. But you can't, not anymore.

“Jesus Christ, breathe, Scott. I don't know what the hell you're saying anymore.” You groaned, getting up and gently pulling him into a warm hug, one that he probably doesn't deserve, but needs. This was the day that you understood there was something else going on, that there was more to Scott Barringer than what meets the eye. Your suspicions were confirmed when he began bawling again, clinging to your shirt while sobbing. “It's... It's alright, we're alright.”

🩹 After that awkward evening of apologies, there was a short period of time where Scott didn't know how to act around you, so much that he sorta avoided you for three days. After that, you became friends. He randomly sat down in front of you for lunch, quietly handing you over one of those muffins they made at the cafeteria, it didn't have that much sugar or flavor to it, but it was the closest thing to a decent snack around. People usually don't give those up willingly. A peace offering.

🩹 It became rather common to find the two of you together after this. It's not like you're attached at the hip, but 8 times out of 10, you were next to each other. Your friendship with him isn't automatically perfect, he's still petty and learning how to navigate his own emotions, he's prone to jealousy and has this infuriating mindset of 'I don't like this person so you can't be friends with them either', but those are things that with time he begins to fix. You also learn rather quickly what they meant, and the fact that the blonde was crushing on you. Take that, Shelby and Juliet!

🩹 Your relationship with him happened gradually, and then boom! You got a little closer, hugs lasted a little longer, words were a little flirtier, until one time you kissed goodnight. It was fast, it was cute, it was surprisingly innocent, and suddenly both of you were stumbling with your own words, blushing and waving goodbye like a pair of idiots.

🩹 Scott Barringer doesn't really know how to be romantic, he could try saying something really sweet or do something cute like giving you a flower, but there's a good chance he'll end the sentence with a dismissive "whatever", "some shit like that", or "who fucking cares..." Luckily, you understand him, as frustrating he may be. Patience is definitely a skill you were exercising constantly with him by your side.

🩹 Scott Barringer is an overprotective boyfriend. Even if he's good to you, he still has a long road to go, empathy and teamwork are things he greatly struggles with if they're not related to you. It's not uncommon for him to get in fights, usually with Auggie. If Scott feels like someone looked at you the wrong way he's already stomping his way towards them and making a fist. You joked with your friends about buying a leash to hold him back, but it's not something you're proud of. Pulling him back during a fight? Forget it. His behavior usually causes most of your arguments, and they look a bit like this: "So you're on his side then!" "What? No Scott, but you can't behave like this and expect me to side with you!" "Why the hell not? You're my girlfriend, not his!"

🩹 You guys went through a breakup at some point, it happened when you were certain Scott needed a friend more than a girlfriend and his behavior was the worst it would be. It wasn't easy and he definitely resented you for it, but you insisted in him needing space to grow and to battle those demons that found him when his father came back into his life. It didn't last for long, and best believe he tried to make you jealous during that time "apart", but ultimately you got back together when he promised to work on being better.

“Oh Scott, now what?” You groaned when he pulled you to the side. Funny how you didn't even have to look to know it was him, but when you did, he had this miserable look on his face, like a starved puppy. “Tch. You have two minutes.”

“I know you think it's for the best, and maybe you're right, maybe I'm too dependent on you, but I don't think you understand how truly good you are for me. I've changed, ever since... Ever since we first crossed paths, I have been changing for the better... I know I get in fights, I know I'm an asshole, I know I claim to not care about anything else and maybe I don't to a degree. But when it comes to you...?” Scott sighs, his pretty eyes sparkling with devotion. “You are everything that I care about, yeah? And you've made me want to be better, I don't wanna do this without you, it's not fair! Not when you want to be with me, and I want to be with you. I'm not trying to guilt you into compliance, but I need you, alright? I need you in my life, desperately. You made me believe I'm worth loving, you have any idea how hard that was? You made me believe I matter... And you made me feel like myself again. When I'm with you I am not afraid of anything, not... Not even the storms. So please, give me another chance, because I don't know if I can do this without you.”

🩹 You were the first one to leave Mount Horizon. As soon as you found out you were fit to go back to your home, you told Scott. Safe to say he was absolutely devastated, but at the same time, he forced himself to smile and hug you tightly. You promised that you would write every single week, and even though Scott had his doubts, you did. Scott's turn to leave took place six months after you, at 17 he still had to live with his father, but as soon as he turned 18, he moved out.

🩹 Scott's first apartment is close to a gym and the university he'll go to. He wasted no time in asking you to live with him, and even when your friends thought it wasn't a good idea, you agreed. It was genuinely one of the best decisions you ever made.

🩹 Scott Barringer has a dirty dirty mind, like any guy his age. His thoughts of you are downright obscene, and even if he doesn't say so, you can tell by that look in his eyes. He'll stare at you almost in a trance, pupils will dilate so much you'll wonder if he took something. His chin points downward and you can swear the guy isn't even blinking. Sometimes it creeps you out.

“Alright that's enough you perv, stop it!” Your dramatic squeal brought him back to the present, Scott blushes as he gets ready to protest.

“But I'm not doing anything!”

“Yes you are!”

“No I'm not! The fuck?! Can't I look at my girlfriend? Damn. So dramatic... I wasn't even thinking about it...” He grumbled, even though he's 100% lying. “I said I wasn't!”

🩹 Scott Barringer is the type of guy that during a sleepover he'll make it sound like he can make cool shadow puppets, starting with the basics: bunny, bird. At this point you're invested. Spider. Butterfly. Aaaand he just made a circle for his middle finger to move in and out repeatedly.

“This one's my favorite.” He grins. “Wanna emulate?”

“You are such a child, Scott! Gosh!”

🩹 Scott Barringer developed the habit of leaving you notes, just because. He thinks you get rid of them after reading, so the day he found your little shoe box filled with his notes he teared up. Scott still has days of struggle, but knowing that someone loves him enough to literally save a stupid bubblegum wrap with the words 'I love you', is enough to make him want to bawl. He can't even bring himself to tease you for it, he'd be a hypocrite if he called you sentimental or a crybaby.

🩹 Scott Barringer loves you more than he loves himself. But that's not something you approved of, so you made sure to remind him of how damn valuable he was.

until the end ・ TOM WELLING. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ library

୨୧ synopsis. you prepare to marry tom, facing nerves and excitement, while jensen helps him navigate his own wedding day jitters.

୨୧ warning(s). fluff | fem!reader | wedding anxiety | mild language | best friend!jensen | a heartfelt best man speech | light friendly banter | wedding games (?) | mentions of whiskey (but nothing too extreme) | no use of Y/N.

୨୧ kari notes. i had a dream the night before about him and i can't recall what even happened :( but all i do remember is just seeing his face, like the one in the photo <3 he's so cutesy !!!

୨୧ word count. 2.3k

tom sat in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest as the distant hum of conversation filled the dressing room. he hadn't seen you all morning, and the absence of your presence weighed on him more than he cared to admit. the simple comfort of you—your scent, your voice, the warmth of your touch—was missing, leaving him restless.

his back ached from sitting too long, his body stiff after hours of preparations. the elegant suit he wore felt both like a privilege and a burden, the fabric pressing against him as he fidgeted, trying to find a comfortable position.

“jesus, man, you look like you're about to throw up."

tom turned his head to see jensen, his best man, standing in the doorway with a smirk. dressed in a sleek black suit, tie slightly loosened, jensen carried two glasses of whiskey—one of which he promptly handed to tom.

he took the glass but didn't drink, just stared at the amber liquid. "i don't feel like throwing up," he muttered, though the slight tremor in his hands betrayed him.

jensen raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. "could've fooled me. you've been sitting in that chair looking like a lost puppy."

tom sighed, leaning back. "i haven't seen her all day. feels weird."

jensen chuckled, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "that's because, for once in your life, you're not in control, dude. she's busy getting all done up while you sit here, looking pretty and trying not to panic."

"i'm not panicking,” tom argued, but jensen just gave him a knowing look.

"sure. and i don't have a supernatural convention next weekend."

tom rolled his eyes, finally taking a sip of the whiskey. the warmth spread through his chest, loosening some of the tension in his muscles. he savored the momentary relief, but it did little to quell the storm of emotions brewing inside him.

jensen sat down across from him, leaning forward, his expression turning serious. "look, man, i get it. this is huge. but you already won. you got the girl. you're just making it official now."

tom exhaled, rubbing his hands together. "that's the thing. what if i mess it up?"

jensen snorted. "dude, you've been with her for how long? you think one wedding is gonna change anything?"

tom hesitated, then shook his head. "no… i don't know. i just want it to be perfect."

jensen grinned. "it will be. because she loves you, dumbass."

tom huffed a small laugh, finally relaxing a little. jensen's unwavering confidence in him helped ease some of the knots in his stomach.

"now," jensen said, standing up and straightening his tie, "let's get you out there, before you start crying on me or something."

tom shot him a look. "i'm not gonna cry."

jensen smirked. "uh-huh. we'll see about that when she walks down the aisle."

tom shook his head, but deep down, he knew jensen was probably right. the thought of seeing you in your wedding dress made his heart race, a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling within him.

the morning had been a blur of soft laughter, gentle touches, and the rustling of silk and lace. you were surrounded by your bridesmaids, each one fluttering around you like butterflies, adjusting your hair, perfecting your makeup, and making sure everything was flawless. despite the whirlwind of preparations, your mind was solely on tom.

you hadn't seen him all morning, and it felt strange not to have him there beside you. he was your anchor, your home, your safe place. the anticipation of standing before him and exchanging vows sent shivers down your spine.

a soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts.

"come in," you called, your heart racing with excitement.

the door cracked open, and to your surprise, jensen peeked his head in. "hope i'm not breaking any ancient wedding traditions by showing up," he said, stepping inside. "but i come bearing a peace offering."

you laughed as he held up a letter—tom’s handwriting scrawled across the front.

"he made me deliver it," jensen explained, handing it to you. "said he 'needed' to talk to you, but, you know, rules and all."

your heart clenched as you carefully unfolded the note, your breath hitching in your throat.

baby… i know i'm not supposed to see you yet, but i needed to tell you this before you walk down the aisle. i love you. i've loved you from the moment i met you, and i will love you for the rest of my life. no matter what happens today, tomorrow, or fifty years from now—you are my always. see you soon, my love.

you pressed the letter to your chest, blinking back tears. the words resonated deep within you, filling you with warmth and affection.

jensen watched you with an amused expression. "yep. he's gonna cry."

you laughed softly, shaking your head. "no, he is not."

"wanna bet?" he grinned. "i'll put fifty bucks on it right now. he's already a mess."

you chuckled, but deep down, you knew jensen was probably right. the thought of tom's reaction when he saw you was enough to make your heart swell.

as the minutes ticked by, the atmosphere shifted. the music started, a soft melody filling the air, and the moment you had been waiting for had arrived.

everyone rose from their seats.

and tom—oh, tom—he went completely still.

jensen, standing beside him at the altar, smirked as he heard the sharp intake of breath from his best friend.

"told you," jensen whispered, barely containing his amusement.

tom ignored him. because there you were.

as you walked slowly down the aisle, tom’s throat tightened, his vision blurring slightly. you were breathtaking. ethereal. his.

the fabric of your dress flowed around you like a dream, the intricate details catching the light and shimmering with every step. the world around you faded as you locked eyes with tom, his expression a mixture of awe and vulnerability.

jensen discreetly reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, nudging tom with his elbow. "you good, dude?"

tom exhaled shakily, eyes never leaving you. "yeah."

jensen smirked. "told you you'd cry."

as you reached the altar, the officiant began the ceremony, but all tom could focus on was you. the way your hair fell gracefully over your shoulders, the glimmer of happiness in your eyes, the soft smile playing on your lips—it was everything he had ever dreamed of and more.

i can't believe this is happening, he thought, his heart racing. the officiant’s words were mere background noise as he absorbed the moment, the reality of marrying you sinking in with every heartbeat.

after a few heartfelt words, it was time for the vows. you turned to him, your eyes sparkling with love as you spoke from the heart.

"tom," you began, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "from the moment i met you, i knew you were special. you've been my best friend, my confidant, and my rock. our relationship has blossomed into something beautiful, and i can't imagine my life without you. today, i vow to always stand by your side, no matter what life throws our way."

he felt the tears prick at his eyes, his heart swelling with every word. you continued, your voice unwavering, "i promise to be your support, your cheerleader, and your partner-in-crime. i promise to laugh with you, cry with you, and share every moment of joy and heartache. you are my best friend, my lover, and my soulmate."

with each vow you made, tom felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. he was home.

when it was his turn, he took a deep breath, his voice thick with emotion. "(___) you are my everything. i've loved you from the moment we met, and i will love you for the rest of my life. you are my anchor, my light in the dark, and i promise to cherish you always."

the officiant smiled, clearly moved by the sincerity of your vows. the guests watched in rapt attention, and tom could feel the weight of their love and support surrounding you both.

"now, by the power vested in me, i pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant declared. "you may now kiss the bride."

tom stepped forward, his heart racing as he cupped your face in his hands. as your lips met, the world melted away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. the kiss was soft at first, an exploration filled with love and promise, before deepening into something more passionate.

after you pulled away, the applause erupted around you, a symphony of joy ringing in your ears. tom couldn't help but smile, the sight of you radiant in your wedding dress filling him with a sense of completeness.

the reception was a whirlwind of laughter and celebration. glasses clinked, music filled the air, and everyone was on their feet, dancing and reveling in the happiness that surrounded you both.

jensen stood up, tapping his glass with a fork, commanding attention. "alright, alright, listen up, people. i've got some words to say about this big guy right here."

tom groaned, burying his face in his hands. "oh, god."

jensen grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye impossible to miss. "relax, man. i'll keep it PG-13… mostly." he cleared his throat dramatically, the room quieting down in anticipation. "i've known tom for a long time now. and let me tell you, this dude? he's a legend. he's superman, for crying out loud. but today? today, he's just a guy who got incredibly, ridiculously lucky."

the crowd erupted in laughter, and tom shook his head with a chuckle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.

jensen turned to you, his tone shifting to sincerity. "seriously, i don't know how you put up with him, but i'm glad you do. because i've never seen him happier than when he's with you. and if there's anyone who deserves a lifetime of happiness, it's him."

tom swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as emotion welled up. jensen's words struck a chord, and he felt the heat of tears pooling in his eyes.

"so let's raise our glasses," jensen continued, raising his glass of chardonnay. "to tom and his beautiful wife. may your love be as epic as smallville, as unbreakable as superman himself, and as legendary as this wedding."

"cheers!" the crowd erupted, raising their glasses with enthusiasm.

tom, now definitely blinking back tears, turned to you with a soft smile. "i love you," he whispered, leaning in close, his voice barely audible over the cheers.

"i love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with joy.

you both shared another kiss, the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you wrapped in your love. the evening unfolded like a beautiful dream, filled with dancing, laughter, and the warmth of family and friends celebrating your union.

tom pulled you close during the first dance, his arms securely around your waist as you swayed to the music. the world outside faded away, and all that mattered was this moment—the two of you, together, forever.

"i can't believe we're actually married," you said, gazing up at him, your heart racing.

"believe it," he replied, his voice low and filled with emotion. "you're mine now, and i'm never letting go."

the words hung in the air, a promise that resonated deep within you. you moved together, the rhythm of the music matched the heartbeat of your love, each beat echoing the journey you had taken to get to this moment.

as the night wore on, laughter echoed around the room. friends and family shared stories, memories, and heartfelt toasts, each one a testament to the love you and tom had cultivated over the years. the atmosphere was electric, a perfect blend of joy and celebration that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

jensen, ever the entertainer, took to the floor again, his antics bringing laughter and smiles from everyone. "alright, folks! next up, we have a little game for the newlyweds," he declared, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "let's see how well they really know each other!"

tom and you exchanged glances, amusement dancing in your eyes.

"bring it on," you said confidently, nudging tom playfully.

the game involved answering questions about each other, and as the rounds progressed, the room filled with laughter as you both revealed little quirks and secrets that made your relationship unique.

"okay, what's his favorite movie?" jensen asked, looking between you and tom.

"easy. mutiny on the bounty," you answered without hesitation.

tom grinned, nodding in approval. "and (___)'s is the craft," he replied, and the room filled with cheers.

the questions continued, each one drawing out laughter and teasing from the guests. but amidst the fun, tom felt a deep sense of gratitude swell within him.

when the night began to wound down, you found yourselves standing on the balcony, the soft glow of fairy lights surrounding you, the stars twinkling like diamonds in the night sky.

"can you believe we did it?" you asked, leaning against the railing, your heart full.

tom turned to you, his expression softening. "i can. and i wouldn't change a thing. this is exactly where i'm meant to be."

you smiled, warmth spreading through you. "i love you, tom. you make me so incredibly happy."

he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace. "i love you too, baby. more than i can ever put into words. you're my everything."

as you stood together, the world around you faded into silence, leaving only the two of you in your perfect moment. the wedding had been a beautiful celebration, but it was the love you shared—strong, unwavering—that truly made it unforgettable.

you stared up at him, your heart brimming with joy, you knew this was just the beginning of your forever.

EXTRAS. @titsout4jackles @honeyryewhiskey @daylighted @st4rfckerz ⎯⎯ if you wanna be tagged in any tom or clark content, do let me know !!! i love pookie wookie sm :(

Lee byung hun but situationship maybe? Pretty please 🙏

having a situationship with lee byung-hun

a/n: thank you for the request! I actually really loved this idea

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byunghun0712

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byunghun0712 #미스터션샤인 #mrsunshine

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yourusername

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yourusername

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yourusername

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byunghun0712

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yourusername

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byunghun0712

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byunghun0712 💪

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request: we need moreee being lee byung-hun’s controversially young girlfriend🥹🤍

a/n: I’m working through all the request rn!! So if I haven’t posted your request, don’t worry it’s on the way

being lee buying-hun’s controversially young girlfriend

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yourusername

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yourusername a cozy day with my love <3

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yourusername

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yourusername

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yourusername working through my finals thanks to the best boyfriend ever 💕

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