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suntoru · 11 months ago

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─ ✰ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒.

— synopsis: 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, the popular guy in your class, chooses to sit next to you, of all people. you've fallen head over heels, what happens next?

— warnings: highschool au! angst, fluff in the beginning, will not be writing a part 2, swearing, gaslighting, betrayal, just a bet troupe, gojo being a dick or everybody generally, 3.4k words!

— a/n: not my proudest work to be honest :( also tried another formatting lmk if u liked it! comments and reblogs r very much appreciated i will love u forever

"yo. can i sit here?" gojo satoru grins, effortlessly sliding into the empty seat next to you and making himself at home.

...huh? isn't that the popular guy who's usually surrounded by his friends? he's constantly the subject of admiration among the girls in your class, eliciting swoons and whispers of infatuation wherever he goes. confusion creeps in as you wonder why he didn't choose the empty seat next to suguru. there's no conceivable reason for someone like gojo, popular and charismatic, to opt for the seat beside you. you feel a sense of self-consciousness settling in.

nevertheless, you nod softly, though you're well aware the question was more of a rhetorical one. he's fashionably late, by twenty minutes, to be precise, unabashedly ignoring the scolding glares from your teacher about punctuality. instead, he buries himself in the deep blue plastic seat, sticking his tongue out when the teacher turns his back, letting out a huffy pout from the lecture.

nervously, you glance up from your notebook, cautiously stealing a peek at your new desk buddy. he's pretty─ real pretty, snowy white lashes adorning his pretty cerulean spheres, dainty fingers idly spinning a pencil out of sheer boredom. and as if kissed by the blush of a gentle sunrise, his lips possess a natural rosy hue, smooth and plump, belong to him like a delicate work of art. you wonder just how many kisses they've stolen. caught in a moment of admiration, you find yourself staring a tad longer than socially acceptable.

his eyes flicker, locking onto yours, and the realization hits you—oh, he caught you staring. shit. immediately, you break eye contact as you cough awkwardly. you swiftly attempt to play it off, pretending as if you were engrossed in examining the intricate texture of your silver-grey desk instead. your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you hope he hasn't interpreted your lingering gaze as anything more than idle curiosity.

...should you say something? try to deny you were very clearly eye fucking him? he probably thinks you're a freak now. perhaps he sat next to you out of pity, and now he regrets it. out of sheer embarrassment, the words die in your mouth before they could ever leave, keeping your gaze glued to the floor as you refuse to acknowledge that his presence ever existed.

however, it appears that gojo won't let you suffer the embarrassment in peace. when your stern teacher turns away, he subtly slides a ripped edge of his blue-lined paper towards you, bearing a simple 'hi :)'. he's attempting a conversation, a surprising but welcome distraction from the awkwardness of being caught staring. an opportunity to salvage a bit of your dignity. now, the challenge lies in crafting a response that strikes the right balance.

would 'hey' sound too dry? but 'heyyyy' makes it seem like you're a little too interested. you opt for a casual 'heyy' with your black pen, scribbling the reply with extra caution to avoid prying eyes. as soon as the teacher is out of view, you subtly slip the note back to gojo. his lips curl into a slight smile upon reading your response.

two minutes pass by before you get a response. 'do you get this lesson? i'm soo lost..' accompanied by a small doodle of a crying suguru. you can't help but stifle a giggle; the drawing is poorly done, yet undeniably cute. the teacher swiftly turns around at the sound, prompting both of you to scramble and make it look like you're diligently focused on the lesson. the suspicious gaze lingers for a moment before the teacher returns to the whiteboard.

'maybe it's cause you missed like, half of the lesson.' you write back. he rolls his eyes playfully upon reading your retort, swiftly countering with a pout. "it's not my fault this class is so boring.'

'who said philosophy was supposed to be fun?' you reply. in response, gojo eagerly accepts the note, maintaining the subtle exchange of eye contact. 'hey, be nice to mr. aristotle, he's a great guy :(' he sends back. and thirty minutes seem to pass in the blink of an eye.

the bell chimes, signaling the end of the philosophy session and the need to transition to your next course. reluctantly, you stow your textbook in your bag, feeling a twinge of sadness at the realization that this amusing interaction might have been a one-time occurrence.

it's been a while since you've genuinely laughed. so when his ocean blue eyes latch onto yours with a genuine sense of hope, you quickly fold when he asks you if you're interested in sitting with him again tomorrow.

in those thirty short minutes, you learn three things about gojo satoru. firstly, you realize you've sorely misjudged him. he's not just another nepo-baby cheating his way through school; he's actually quite smart, smarter than he lets on. he's especially good in biochemistry, and he promises to help you study next time.

secondly, you discover that he loves sweets, just as you do. you both agree that kikufuku mochi is better than strawberry dango, and he even tells you about his favorite shop. maybe you can go together sometime.

and thirdly, he doesn't tell you this outright, but you learn that gojo is insecure. what strikes you the most is the glimpse of uncertainty you catch beneath his confident exterior. it's not about his looks or intelligence, but it's actually about his relationship with suguru. he's afraid to lose him, a fear that seems to drive him more than anything else. he overcompensates for his self-doubt. but you find that his flaws make him all the more pretty.

it's peculiar, the speed at which gojo somehow effortlessly integrates into your daily life. how he's feeling is how you're feeling, which is usually reflected on his friendship with suguru. if they had a fight, he'd be sad, and if everything was alright, he was too. but either way was okay with you, you just want to be there for him. what was once a dreaded fourth period now stands as the radiant highlight of your entire day.

despite the limited instances of verbal communication —perhaps a mere once or twice— the inexplicable truth remains: you've fallen head over heels for him. the simple act of passing notes with satoru becomes more than a routine; it evolves into the sole force that awakens you in the morning, the singular thought that propels you forward and keeps you going throughout the day.

and just maybe, the hopeless romantic within you fervently clings to the belief that his sentiments go beyond mere friendship. his actions seem to carry an extra layer of care, an attentiveness that extends beyond your platonic friendship. he notices the little things that escape the notice of others. it wasn't lost on him when you shed tears the other night due to the weight of stress; he went out of his way to procure your favorite candy bar, a sweet gesture aimed at brightening your spirits.

he took notice of your new haircut, expressing in a note that it frames your face nicely. he had comforted you when a classmate aimed a subtle insult your way, he wrote that the words of someone whose foundation didn't match their face shouldn't hold much weight. he even made an effort to be punctual for class, all to engage in the shared exchange of silly notes with you. and honestly, even if he didn't like you back, you'd be fine.

because your heart swells with gratefulness at the fact that he chose to sit with you. he wanted to be your friend even when nobody else did. you trusted and loved him with your whole heart, because that's what you believed he deserved.

so imagine your surprise when you overhear his conversation with suguru that day.

"just a day more, then you win the bet." geto groans, tossing his head back in exasperation. the two of them linger in the now-empty classroom, the echoes of other students long gone.

"yep, twenty four hours, then you owe me three hundred dollars." satoru sings, playfully nudging his best friend's shoulder. he's all sunshine and smiles, swinging his feet from the desk he's currently sitting on.

"and it wasn't even that hard. i just had to get 'em to fall for me." suguru rolls his eyes. "dude, if i was you, i would've tapped out the first week. how'd you manage to do it?" he huffs, clearly annoyed at the impending financial loss.

satoru mischievously grins. "just used my charm." he fluffs his hair with a smug expression on his face. "can't believe it worked so fast, though. they must be real desperate for someone's attention. all it took was for you to fuckin' pretend like you cared." suguru grouches, being a sore loser. you don't hear the rest, the notebook you had lost long forgotten.

a lump forms in your throat, a sensation of dread creeping up on you. you desperately want to believe he's not talking about you, but you can't shake the realization that to him, you were nothing more than a pawn in a bet— a tool used for his amusement. you're overwhelmed by a sense of stupidity, a painful realization sinking in, drowning every rational thought.

he never cared. you could fall dead at this moment and he wouldn't even spare you a glance. you should've known. why would he? you feel stupid for allowing him entry into your life, stupid for naively believing in his sincerity, and stupid for daring to love a heartless jerk who played with the fragile strings of your heart.

they're right. you are pathetic. you just blindly fell for the first person who gave, or rather, pretended to give a shit. a relentless ache throbs in your chest as you stubbornly refuse to succumb to tears over a boy— a resolution crumbling like fragile glass. despite your stubborn determination, an uncontrollable torrent of hot tears streams down your face, distorting the world into a watery blur.

the desperate yearning for someone to choose you, to envelop you in unconditional and pure love, had fueled your hopes. and for a fleeting moment, you believed you'd found it, only to witness your heart being ruthlessly trampled blue. clutching onto the tattered shreds of your dignity, half-broken and bleeding, you muster the strength to leave swiftly before they catch a glimpse of you.

the bitter taste of betrayal lingers in the air, each teardrop is a testament to the shattering of dreams, the dead hope that once soared. the yearning for a love that stands unwavering proves to be a mirage, leaving you grappling with the shards of a love that was never truly yours.

that day, you learn one more thing about gojo satoru. he's just like everybody else.

cerulean eyes, like pools of shimmering azure, flicker with concern as they scan the empty seat beside him. minutes stretch into eternity on the clock, each tick of the second hand amplifying the weight of his worry. nine twenty morphs into nine fifty pretty quickly, and he can't help but be a little annoyed. at this rate, you'll only get in twenty minutes of 'talking.'

you're always punctual—eight fifty-five on the dot. but today, the clock ticks on, and there's no sign of you anywhere. his brows furrow with concern, a nervous flutter dancing in his stomach. did something happen to you? the mere possibility sends a pang of anxiety through him, and he fidgets restlessly in his seat, unable to focus on the lesson before him.

yet, when his gaze shifts to meet suguru's, he swiftly masks his apprehension with an air of nonchalance, as if feigning indifference to your absence. but inwardly, his heart races as he anxiously awaits your arrival. when you finally walk in, he's already scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, filled with questions about what could have delayed you today. yet, as he extends his hand to pass you the note, his eager smile fades into confusion and disappointment.

you walk right past seat thirteen, your usual spot, without so much as a glance in his direction. instead, you approach a random girl and ask if you could sit with her. his heart sinks, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks as a torrent of thoughts flood his mind. is something wrong? are you upset with him? he replays every interaction in his mind, searching for any misstep. but he can't find one. he's been careful to maintain the perfect facade when you're around. perhaps you simply forgot, he reasons with himself, attempting to quell the rising tide of hurt and confusion.

yes, that must be it.

...just a simple oversight.

"hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!! just wait a moment!!" gojo's voice cuts through the chatter of students eager to leave as soon as the bell rings. he grabs your wrist, his touch gentle yet firm, halting your attempt to blend into the rush. his heart races in his chest, the sudden surge of adrenaline making his palms clammy.

"um... you didn't sit with me today." he mumbles, the words coming out in a rush, his voice tinged with uncertainty. his fingers toy with the ring around his finger, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggles to find the right words to continue the conversation. he doesn't like the way you're looking at him. there's a flicker of irritation in your gaze, a departure from the usual warmth and affection that he's grown accustomed to. normally, when his eyes meet yours, your cheeks tint pink, your pupils dilate, and you give him the cutest starry-eyed look. but not today.

"yeah," you mutter casually, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. there's a certain coldness in your eyes that sends a shiver down his spine. you're about to leave again, but he moves to block the door, a frown creasing his forehead.

"did i do something wrong? i don't understand why you're suddenly acting so bitchy," he huffs, irritation lacing his voice. the words tumble out before he can stop them, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "no," you reply simply, your tone devoid of any emotion, as if you genuinely don't care. it stings his ego, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"you can 'use your charm' to make a new friend. since it's so easy for you, right?" you mutter, your voice trembling with suppressed anger. you promised yourself you'd hold it together, but the wound is still raw, etched deep into your mind as a flush of resentment rises within his eyes widen in shock, a pang of guilt stabbing at his heart. you heard that? no, no, no... he hadn't meant for you to be there. he had been so careful, or so he thought.

"i didn't mean it, i just-" he stutters, desperately searching for an excuse, but he knows it's futile. there's no chance you'd believe him now, would you? his heart sinks. he doesn't want you to hate him. "i was easy, right?" you laugh bitterly, each word dripping with sarcasm and pain.

"i hope that three hundred dollars was worth it. not that you even needed it, though. you think toying with people is fun? you're a dick, satoru, go to fucking hell." you hiss, your words laced with venom, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "let me explain-" he protests, desperation evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. but you're too angry to even consider it.

"explain? explain what?'" you explode, your voice rising with each syllable, oblivious to the judgmental glances of passersby. you scoff, tears threatening to spill over.

"i didn't mean it," he cuts you off, his own voice strained with emotion. "you're my friend, i just—" his voice cracks. "friends don't manipulate other people's feelings." you interrupt, your voice laced with venom as you spit out each word. you're aware you look like a mess, mascara staining your cheeks. "friends don't trick and hurt you on purpose!" you yell, tongue dripping with malice. "and here's the thing. you may be the greatest, satoru, but you will never, be enough. not for suguru, not for anybody."

you almost regret saying it. targetting his biggest insecurity. but then again, he deserves it. "how could you say that?" his voice is broken, quiet, as he mumbles it out as a whisper. the eyes that you once found so stunning suddenly look just like everybody else's. they well with tears, but are quickly blinked away. "you don't get to cry, satoru," you scoff, unzipping your bag and opening the front pouch.

you toss all the letters you've written in class, all the sticky notes, every single ripped paper, every little doodle, flipping your bag over and emptying it on the floor. every single heart fluttering moment you experienced seems so dead now. "you don't get to act like you cared. it's only fair, after all." you manage to muster, fighting to keep your voice stable. tears drip down your chin as your bottom lip trembles.

every step feels like a battle, a relentless tug-of-war between what your heart wants and what your mind knows is right. leaving him behind is like tearing off a piece of your own soul, but you convince yourself it's for the better— for your own sanity, for your own self-respect. each stride forward is heavy with the weight of goodbye, each breath drawn in a struggle against the ache in your chest. and as you finally turn away, a part of you dies inside, a piece of your spirit crumbling in the wake of shattered trust and broken dreams. you can feel his eyes on your retreating figure, the silent witness to your silent agony.

this time he doesn't try to stop you. and when you leave, gojo finally allows himself to cry.

today, gojo finds himself seated next to suguru, reclaiming his former spot from before the bet. yet, everything feels different now. the idiotic jokes his friends make just aren't as funny anymore. their presence is irritating to him. he laughs, but the sound lacks the same genuine joy it once held with you. he smiles, but it's a mere shadow of the radiant expression he wore in your presence. his heart may feel a fleeting sense of happiness, but there will always be a hole where you once were.

his so-called 'buddies' don't even notice that he's at his lowest point, and he can't help but think about the way you would've noticed immediately.

how you would've sent him a cute note with his favourite candy attached, because you kept them in your bag just for him, for these kinds of days. he feels so numb. he's always been so confident, yet he can't even muster up the courage to pass by your desk.

and he can't help but wonder what might have been if he had chosen differently that day, if his intentions had been pure from the start. would you two have gotten somewhere? he supposes that now, he'll never know the answer. his eyes cloud over at that thought, slouching back down into his seat.

he never had the chance to tell you how sorry he was, how he would take it all back in an instant if he could. he didn't mean to hurt you. he was stupid and careless. and yet, he tries to convince himself that he'll be okay. that he'll be able to get over you one day. one day, when he's married and has two kids, he'll look back at this and laugh. so then why does his heart feel so heavy? you're not suguru, it's true. but suguru never made him feel this way. and he's confused with his own feelings.

he doesn't know what love is.

he's only sixteen.

perhaps he'll never know. but for him, love was sneaking kikifuku mochi into class for you to share. it was sending you cat memes at three am in the morning, only for you to groggily respond with your own. it was doodling you in his notebook in his spare time. it was how what you were feeling was how he was feeling too.

you were right, it seems.

gojo satoru, the greatest, yet not enough to make you stay.

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo angst

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fastandcarlos · 3 months ago

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Accept My Help, Love : ̗̀➛ Ollie Bearman

summary: the last thing your stubborn self needed was an injury, particularly when letting people in to help is a trickier job then it should've been

Your soft eyes looked at Ollie, with your arm wrapped in cast the most mundane jobs were suddenly your biggest challenges. In the Haas hospitality you stood, your plate of food ready to be eaten, but your hands unable to carry.

With Ollie talking to many of his future team members around him, you found yourself at a crossroads. The table you had wasn’t too far away, and with the strength in your arm getting better day after day, you were sure it was about time to challenge yourself a little more, placing your hands on the hot plate, making sure that your grip was nice and tight on it.

Usually Ollie was there to help you with most things, but with his career skyrocketing you didn’t have the heart to disturb. As you lifted the plate up, you were feeling pretty confident, surprised by how easy the weight was to carry. However, as you took your first step, your confidence quickly plummeted.

Before you knew it the plate slipped out of your hands and banged against the counter. The vibrations were loud across the hospitality lounge with several pairs of eyes darting in your direction.

“Babe?” Ollie questioned, one of those to quickly spin around and see what was going on.

You weakly smiled across at Ollie as his eyes looked around, piecing together what was going on. “Don’t say it,” you sighed, your shoulders dropping.

Ollie was used to you pushing yourself, asking for help was a job that you found particularly difficult, especially now that you had your injury too. All Ollie wanted to do was help you with your recovery, and remind you of just how capable your body currently was.

“Why didn’t you ask me to get it for you?” He asked, picking the plate up, leading you over to your table.

You hung back behind him, your steps slow and lazy as people slowly started to look away from you too. With a huff you dropped down into your seat, allowing Ollie to place the food in front of you before sitting opposite you.

“What were you thinking?” He questioned, keeping his eyes firmly on you.

Your expression was blank, the frustration was clear. By now you had hoped that you would be back to your usual self, hating the fact that you had to constantly rely on other people to get you through day to day.

“I just wanted to try,” you defended, “I should be able to carry my own plate by now, shouldn’t I? This is where you work, you shouldn’t be spending your day running around after me.”

Ollie’s hand reached across the table, taking a hold of your own and squeezing it gently. If anyone knew how hard this was for you, it was him. Accepting help wasn’t easy at the best of times, but now it felt as if everyone offered their help out of pity rather than concern.

“I’m fed-up Ollie, this is ridiculous.”

Your eyes stared down at the cast around your left forearm, doodles up and down the plaster that some of your closest friends had added to it as reminders to cheer you up whenever you were feeling down. As always, they were particularly drawn to what Ollie had doodled, the biggest heart he could fit on it that he knew you’d adore.

Your other hand brushed through your hair as you let go of a sigh, “I just want to be me again Ollie, I don’t recognise who I am right now.”

Ollie nodded understandingly, brushing the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand. “I get it, I’ve had injuries too when I’ve had to count on other people to get me by. But people do genuinely want to help you love.”

You slowly turned your head up, allowing yourself to see the concern in Ollie’s eyes. “I don’t like the fact that you’re constantly having to put yourself out for me, you can barely sit still because you’re looking around and worrying about me.”

Ollie continued to hold tightly onto your hand reassuringly, “that’s because I choose to do that, because I care and want to be there for you, whether you’re injured or not.”

You smiled weakly, feeling tears threaten to spill as a wave of emotion washed over you. “I just want this to end, to rip this stupid cast off now.”

A faint chuckle came from Ollie, since the day of your incident he had seen firsthand how frustrated you were, particularly as your injury wasn’t your fault to begin with. His heart broke when the doctor told you how serious the fracture was, the recovery period longer than you could’ve ever imagined.

It was never going to be easy but at the start, you were positive. However, the longer your arm took to fix, the less positive you were. Your negativity had taken Ollie by surprise, he’d never seen you so low, at times wondering if he was the right person to be able to pick you back up.

He too wanted to rip your cast off, but only when your body was ready for it to be done. “You know, I’m worried about what you’re going to be like when your cast comes off, because you’re going to be so much stronger, and tougher, if people are scared of you now, they should see you with a freshly healed arm.”

“Do you really not mind helping me out?” You asked Ollie.

His head shook straight away, without even having to think. “I’m always going to be there for you, injured or not. There are people around you who really do care sweetheart, it’s not embarrassing to ask them for help.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, watching as Ollie lifted your hand and pressed a kiss against the back of it. “I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Ollie smiled, “you forget how amazing you are sometimes.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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katsukistofu · 5 months ago

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PLEASE (if you feel like it) WRITE FOR AIZAWA! A SICK READER TROPE MAYBE?

Btw ur fics are so good and are part of the reason why I’ve gotten back into mha <333 I love ur writing style sm and ur hawks fics??? That was amazing

hi my love! thank you so much omg that’s so sweet, i’m happy i helped you rekindle your love for mha again lol! <3

sick (but never of you)

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. aizawa x fem reader. fluff. cursing. 997 words ★ your husband insists on taking care of you when you fall ill, despite your protests.

Not this shit again.

You groan as your eyes flutter open for the second time after you said you were fine, then proceeded to dramatically faint in Shota’s arms in the middle of your patrol and sit up, hurriedly tossing the pile of soft blankets off your body.

You shiver despite the warmth radiating from the heater nearby. Shota must have brought it out for you after getting you home.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The disapproving voice of your husband floats over, and there he is, leaning on the doorway with a steaming bowl of something in his hands. You perk up despite yourself. Miso soup?

“I don’t have time to sleep off a little cold, Shota!” Your arms tremble as you try to force yourself off of the plush king-sized bed. “It’s already past nine, I have to head to the agency.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” Shota wraps his arms around you to trap you in place, ignoring your insistent budging. “You’re staying home today with the cat.”

“But—But they need me…” You weakly mumble in his firm grip. It was no use trying to break free, and you’re not sure if you even want to anymore with how nice he feels against you.

“And I need you here.” His stern gaze doesn’t waver, and his hand guides your head from the back of your hair, which you’re certain looks like a disaster zone right now, to rest on his chest. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, happy and healthy.”

Shota brushes a hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The little beads of sweat on your skin don’t bother him in the slightest.

“So let me do my job.”

“Are you using your teacher voice on me?” You grumble into the dark fabric of his sleeveless shirt. He smells warm and like all things good, as if he just came out of the shower.

“I vaguely recall someone commenting that it was ‘hot.” Shota’s gravelly voice teases your ear and his stubble tickles your cheek as he smirks, knowing he’s won the battle when he finally feels you melt in defeat against him.

He brushes a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay in bed, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You say in a tiny voice, weakly slumping back into the sheets.

Shota comes back with a spoon and a folded piece of paper. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips as he holds it out to you.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that wants you to stay home.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the get-well card in your hands.

feel beter soon!! lots of loove, eri it said, with millions of tiny hearts doodled around your name. You choke back a sob as your eyes fall onto the little stick figure drawings of you pushing the little gray-haired girl on a swing set.

It looked just like the one from the playground nearby that you would often take her to on your days off.

us when youre not sick anymor! :D

“Shota, give me that damn soup.”

He chuckles deeply and scoots closer on the bed to feed you. You squeeze your eyes shut as a sharp throb suddenly pierces through your head.

“The room’s spinning again, that’s not normal is it?”

“No. No, it’s not.” Shota’s forehead creases in concern, bringing the spoon of warm soupy goodness up to your lips while his other hand holds yours.

You part your lips to drink it, letting the rich, comforting flavor of miso spread across your tongue.

Letting out a little sigh of relief, you’re about to lean back before Shota sets the bowl down on the nightstand to prop up the pillows behind you, making sure you’re comfortable before he picks it back up again and holds up another spoonful to your mouth.

“Come on, one more for me sweetheart.”

“Not hungry anymore,” you huff, turning your head away from his outstretched hand.

He lifts an eyebrow.

“We can cuddle after you take your medicine.”

“...Can you rub my tummy too?”

“You know I will.”

You sniffle and reluctantly open your mouth to sip a spoonful of the soup once again.

“Atta girl.” Shota smooths a kiss on your forehead, rubbing circles against the back of your hand.

He reaches over to the nightstand to grab your medicine he picked up from the local pharmacy earlier, and hands a small cup of what he pours to you.

You grimace at its cherry-colored contents and tilt your head back to drink it in one go like a shot.

“Good job. Now come lay on me.” He didn’t need to ask you twice, but Shota’s hands are already on your waist to gently flip you over him as he takes your previous position on the bed, setting you down to rest your head on your usual spot on his chest.

He strokes your hair gently, arm snug against your back while he presses you to him. “How are you feeling?”

“A little bit better,” you mumble, absentmindedly tracing the outline of his abs under his shirt. It's always been soothing to you.

Shota’s chest rumbles as he lets out a husky laugh. “Are you just saying that so you can keep tracing my abs?”

“Maybe.” You giggle against him, which turns into a cough and he firmly pats your back. His hand slides under your pajamas to rub gentle circles on your tummy like he promised. You softly squeal at the ticklish feeling of his hard-earned callouses against your skin, and Shota tenderly kisses your cheek once, twice.

All your senses are numb, but you can still feel the overflowing love behind them.

“Go to sleep, sweet girl. I got you,” he murmurs into your hair.

“Okay.” You comply easily this time, nuzzling deeper into his chest. “Goodnight, Shota.”

“Goodnight, angel. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep in the safety of his warm arms.

Maybe being sick wasn’t all bad.

#aizawa x reader #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #mha x you #mha fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha oneshot

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slasherscream · 6 months ago

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Hi, sorry to bug but I have to yap to someone about this, and I love your ideas. Do you think Nathan Prescott would take his partner’s last name if he ever got married? Would any of the Crazy Ass Boy Gang?

❥ who would take your last name ❥

Nathan Prescott - He would take your last name so quickly it would make your head spin. You’re the first person who’s given meaning to the world family. His sister tried, but when you’re on a sinking ship, there’s only so much you can do. Try too desperately to save the person drowning next to you and you risk going under yourself. So Nathan drowned alone. Until you, that is. Marrying you, becoming part of your family, is absolution for him. He’s not Sean Prescott’s son. He’s Nathan Y/L/N, your husband.

Jason Dean/JD - It might seem a little strange for JD to be so willing to change his name. His nickname is just his first and last name together, afterall. This was his mother’s last name. But it’s also his father’s. One night he’ll gently wake you , and in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard him use he'll ask you if you’d like him to take your last name. There are so many questions he’s asking, in that one sentence: Do you want me to be yours, unequivocally? Will you bear the weight of that ownership? Am I abandoning my Mother, if I leave her all alone as a Dean, with only him as her company? Will you ask me to take it? Please ask. Please take the weight of the asking away. I can’t abandon her. But I can’t stay, either. Put your arms around him and tell him he’ll make one hell of a Y/L/N.

❥ who would want you to take theirs ❥

Sebastian Valmont - He has genuinely doodled your names together in his journals like a middle schooler. Without a hint of irony: Mr. and Mx. Valmont. Y/N Valmont. Since the moment he fell in love he was planning to marry you and give you his last name. The Valmont name carries weight. It’s legacy. It’s old money. He throws his name around and people fall over themselves to get things done for him. He wants you to throw around his name too. He wants you to embrace every luxury he can give you. One of those luxuries is the power of his family name. Use it.

Billy Loomis - His parent’s marriage failed miserably. He doesn’t even know if his Mother kept the name Loomis. At this point, what does it matter? He fights tooth and nail not to live in the past when he has a future with you to look forward to. So he wants to look forward. He wants to do better than his parents did. He wants to wake up in ten years, twenty, thirty and reach for your hand and know you two succeeded. His family name isn’t doomed to failed promises, runaway spouses, and unfaithfulness. You guys are a better Loomis pair than his parents ever were.

David Mccall - Don’t piss him off. If you even try to hint at wanting to keep your original family name, it will be one of the few times you see David’s mask slip. “What? My name not good enough for you, sweetheart? Marriage is for starting over. It’s for building our lives together, not for hanging onto the past. Thought you loved me.” Every dirty trick he has in his arsenal will be used. Whatever it takes until you give in. Sex. Guilt. Moping. Anger. Don’t push back too hard, or go back and forth on the issue for too long. On your wedding day you’re gonna be Y/N Mccall, come hell or high water. There’s no need for anything drastic to take place just for that to happen, right baby?

Josh Washington - Josh could never be anything but a Washington. It’s the name he shared with his sisters. It’s the only thing he still shares with his sisters. He used to be able to see them in his face, at least. But now… he’s so different, even that bit of the twins has died. It isn’t right that there are so few Washington's left. Most days Josh isn’t even sure if he’s a Washington anymore. If he’s still Human anymore. But you are. You’re gentle, kind, and so painfully human. Just like the twins were. He might have failed them, hell, he probably failed himself. But he won’t fail you. He has a second chance at a family, and this time you’ll always be safe.

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Would be so offended if this was even up for debate. Why wouldn’t you be taking his name? Why is it even a discussion? Why does he even have to ask? Will probably say something incredibly mean and unnecessary when you first talk about it. There’s a pit of insecurity in him that no amount of love you can give him will fill. It’s shaped like the love he should have gotten from his father. From his siblings. But the first love he’s ever felt has been yours. But that’s not true for you. You’ve loved people before him. Other people have loved you before he was able to. He needs you to be his. Just his. You’re the only thing in the world that matters that belongs only to him. But there are little pieces of you that will never be just his and it makes him sick. This can fix all that, though! He knows that the security of introducing you as his spouse will be a balm on his soul. He wants tabloids, newspapers, TV, and the radio to all be parroting the words: Y/N Hargreeves. He hopes- no, he knows it will make that hole inside him ache a little less.

❥ who wants to hyphenate ❥

Jordan Li - Jordan doesn’t want you to give up your identity, who you are, just because you’re marrying them. They also don’t want to change their name, really. Something about not being a Li, despite everything, makes their stomach turn. But marriage is still about coming together. Making two lives so harmonious, so copacetic, that sometimes, if you’re lucky, it becomes one life, shared. Jordan didn’t propose for a long time, afraid of it all going wrong. Of ruining what you have. You helped them believe you two were strong enough to change and grow together. They want your names to reflect that. So, you hyphenate, and you blend, and grow, together.

Stu Macher - Assumed you would take his last name, but when you pushed back, not sure if you wanted to shirk your family name entirely, Stu had the most relaxed reaction you’ve ever gotten from him about anything. “Okay, why don’t we both change 'em’? We’ll hyphenate! Like Brad Pitt and Angelina, or whatever.” You were expecting a tantrum. Not the easy acceptance that he actually meant for once. The fact is you’re wearing his ring on your finger, and you’re gonna stand in front of all your friends and family and say how much you love him. He’s already won. Why sweat the small stuff?

Kevin Khatchadourian - Was quite angry when you began to hint at not wanting to change your name. It was the icy, calculated anger that made him dangerous, too. But if you’re marrying him you know how to communicate with him. Reason with him. You don’t want to take his last name because you don’t want to emulate his family. You want to make something of your own with him. You’re not sure how well the words worked until he sets the paperwork down in front of you. Kevin Y/L/N-Khatchadourian. In those small lines of ink, you’ll realize how deep the love Kevin is capable of runs for you. If you squint your eyes those words start to look like: I want us to be different from my parents. He watches you sign the paperwork to change your name, and Kevin has never been more content to give in to one of your demands. Just this once, of course.

A/N: i LOVE a character study question that’s still x reader. you are my favorite person in the world for this one. if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

#nathan and jd hating their fathers so much only topic theyd ever agree on. otherwise they would kill each other upon first eye contact #they all have something so deeply wrong with them #crazy ass boys gang #nathan prescott x reader #jd x reader #jordan li x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #josh washington x reader #kevin khatchadourian x reader #sebastian valmont x reader #david mccall x reader #ben hargreeves x reader

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jaeyunluvbot · 1 month ago

Text

ceilings

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 childhood friends to lovers, best friends to lovers, college au, mark lee x fem!reader,

word count 𝟅𝟈 4.1k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You sit cross-legged on the couch in your dorm, a half-empty mug of coffee going cold on the table in front of you. Your laptop is open, the beginnings of a lesson plan appearing on the screen. Across the room, Mark is sprawled in your beanbag chair, a stack of notebooks and his own laptop scattered haphazardly around him.

“Remind me why you picked education again?” he teases, spinning a pen between his fingers.

“Because I like helping people,” you say without looking up. “Unlike you, who’s clearly just here to take up space.”

Mark laughs, the sound comforting and familiar. “Yikes. I’m just saying, you’ve been staring at that screen for, like, two hours. Are you actually working, or just writing your name in different fonts?”

You roll your eyes, finally glancing over at him. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of slacking off, Mr. Communications Major.”

“Hey, excuse you,” Mark says, sitting up a little. “I’m a communications major with a business minor. Very serious stuff.”

“Right,” you deadpan. “I’m sure the world is just desperate for your next paper on influencer marketing.”

He grins, leaning back again. “You know it.”

The conversation feels like a warm blanket, familiar and comforting. You’ve been best friends with Mark since third grade, and moments like this remind you why. No matter what life throws your way, he’s always been there—ready with a joke, a smile, or a friday-night movie marathon.

Still, lately, things have felt off… different. You hesitate, tapping your fingers on the edge of your laptop.

“Mark?”

“Hmm?” he says, not looking up from the YouTube video he’s somehow roped into his “studying.”

“You know Jaemin, right? From my educational psych class?”

Mark pauses the video, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah, I know him. Why?”

“Well…” you trail off, suddenly not sure if you should tell him. “He asked me out yesterday.”

Mark doesn’t react immediately, his face carefully neutral. “Oh. What’d you say?”

“I said yes.”

Mark’s jaw tightens imperceptibly before he nods, forcing a smile. “That’s cool. Jaemin’s… cool.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, a little too quickly. “He’s nice. And, you know, he’s on the soccer team. Everyone loves a soccer guy.”

You tilt your head, watching him cautiously. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” Mark argues, shifting his position to cover his fidgeting. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really, I am.”

You squint at him, unconvinced, but let it go. “Cool.”

The rest of the evening passes in a strange kind of silence. Mark cracks a few jokes here and there, but the usual ease between you feels just a little strained.

Later that night, as you lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the soft whirring of your fan lulling you into a tired state, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted. But what—and why—you can’t quite figure out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A month later, you and Mark find yourselves in your favorite spot off-campus, a cozy little café that’s been your special place since freshman year. You’re sitting by the window, sipping a caramel latte and doodling on a napkin while Mark devours a bagel like it’s his last meal.

“I’m just saying,” he says between bites, crumbs and seeds scattering all over the table, “professors shouldn’t assign group projects if they know people like Yuta exist.”

“Not this again,” you groan, half-laughing. “What did he do this time?”

“What didn’t he do?” Mark gestures dramatically. “He wrote a single sentence and called it his ‘contribution.’ I’m carrying this guy through college, Y/N.”

“Maybe he’s just shy,” you suggest, smiling at your best friend’s complaints.

Mark shakes his head, pointing at you with a crumb-covered finger. “No, no. Shy people at least pretend to help. Yuta just disappears.”

You laugh, the sound bright against the low hum of the café. Moments like this remind you why Mark is your favorite person.

Which makes your next suggestion seem obvious—at least to you.

“You know,” you say, swirling your spoon in your cup, “you should hang out with Jaemin.”

Mark freezes mid-chew, his eyes widening slightly. “What?”

“You and Jaemin,” you repeat. “I feel like you’d get along. You’re both funny and laid-back, and you like soccer.”

“I don’t like soccer,” Mark says flatly.

“You played soccer in high school,” you counter.

“Because my mom made me,” he argues, setting his muffin down. “And no offense, but I don’t think me and Jaemin would get along.”

“How do you know?” you challenge, leaning forward. “You’ve never hung out with him. He’s really nice, Mark.”

Mark’s expression shifts, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “I’m sure he is,” he says carefully. “But… why are you so set on this?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” you say simply. “And he’s… my boyfriend. It would just be nice if you guys were friends, too.”

Mark looks at you for a long moment, his jaw tightening slightly before he nods. “Okay,” he says finally. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll hang out with him.”

You beam, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Mark. It means a lot.”

He forces a smile, but as he takes another bite of his muffin, you notice the way his shoulders tense.

And for the second time that week, you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Mark adjusts his hoodie for the third time as he steps into the campus rec center, wondering how mad you’d be if he flaked on Jaemin. He spots him right away, standing by the basketball court with a bright smile on his face, spinning a ball on his finger effortlessly.

“Mark!” Jaemin calls, waving enthusiastically.

Mark forces a grin and waves back, shoving his hands into his pockets as he approaches.

“Hey,” he says.

“Glad you made it,” Jaemin says, tossing the ball to him. “You play, right?”

“Uh, not really,” Mark admits, catching the ball awkwardly.

Jaemin chuckles, his tone warm and friendly. “No worries. We’ll just shoot around. Nothing serious.”

They step onto the court, and Jaemin immediately starts talking, filling the space with his easy energy. He’s exactly how Y/N described—friendly, funny, and genuinely likable.

“So, Y/N told me you guys have been friends forever,” Jaemin says, making a shot effortlessly.

“Yeah,” Mark replies, dribbling the ball and taking a shot. It bounces off the backboard, and he winces. “We grew up together.”

“That’s awesome,” Jaemin says, running after the ball. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friendship like that. She talks about you all the time, you know.”

Mark swallows hard, his throat tightening at the thought. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jaemin continues, passing the ball back to him. “She says you’re, like, the best person she knows. Always there for her.”

Mark forces a smile, the comment accentuating the already heavy weight on his chest. “She’s pretty great herself,” he says, taking another shot. This one goes in, and Jaemin claps excitedly.

“She really is.” Jaemin says, smiling softly.

As they continue playing, Mark starts to feel a strange mix of guilt and admiration. Jaemin is genuinely a good guy—there’s no doubt about it, and he obviously cares about Y/N. But every time Jaemin mentions her, Mark feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“So,” Jaemin says after a while of playing, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. “What do you think of me?”

Mark nearly chokes on his water. “What?”

“Come on,” Jaemin says, laughing. “I know you probably weren’t super excited about this. Y/N might’ve had to twist your arm a bit. So, what’s the verdict?”

Mark hesitates, running a hand through his hair. “You’re… a good guy,” he says finally.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow, grinning. “That’s it?”

Mark shrugs, forcing his hands to stay placed firmly on the ball, needing something to ground himself before he shouts his feelings to the world. “Y/N thinks so, and she’s usually right about people.”

Jaemin chuckles, his expression softening. “She’s something else, huh?”

Mark nods, his throat tightening again. “Yeah. She is.”

Jaemin leans back against the wall, tossing the ball between his hands. “I don’t know what I did to deserve her, honestly. She’s just… amazing.”

Mark doesn’t respond, forcing a smile, his chest aching at how easily Jaemin says the words Mark’s been too afraid to even think about out loud.

“Anyway,” Jaemin says, breaking the silence. “Thanks for hanging out. I know you probably had better things to do.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Mark replies, his voice quieter now.

As they step back onto the court to finish their game, Mark tries to focus on the sound of the ball hitting the floor, anything to distract himself from the guilt gnawing at him. Jaemin is exactly as Y/N said—perfect. And yet, Mark can’t shake the heavy, unspoken truth weighing on his chest.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The Friday after Mark and Jaemin’s basketball game, Mark sat on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone while you organized your notes at the dining table. It was a typical evening—quiet and uneventful—but something felt off. Mark had been acting strange ever since his hangout with Jaemin, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was lying to you about something.

“Hey,” you called, your voice cutting through the silence. “You’ve been weird lately. Is something wrong?”

Mark didn’t even glance up. “I’m fine,” he said curtly.

You frowned but decided not to push. Instead, you tried to lighten the mood. “So, Jaemin was telling me about this soccer game next weekend, maybe all three of us could —”

“Do you talk about anything but Jaemin?” Mark snapped, his voice slicing through you sentence like a blade.

You froze, staring at him in confusion. “What?”

“You’re always talking about him,” Mark continued, setting his phone down with more force than necessary. “Jaemin this, Jaemin that. Do you even realize how much you talk about him?”

Your confusion quickly turned to anger. “Mark, what’s your problem? You’re the one who’s been acting all weird, and now you’re getting mad at me for talking about my boyfriend?”

Mark stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Forget it. Just forget I said anything.”

“No,” you shot back, standing too. “You don’t get to yell at me and then walk away. What’s going on with you?”

“I said forget it, Y/N!” Mark shouted, his voice louder than you'd ever heard it before.

You took a step back, a pang hurt flashing across your face. “Fine. If you don’t want to talk to me, then don’t.”

For a moment, Mark’s expression softened, guilt and regret flickering in his eyes. But he quickly hardened again, grabbing his jacket. “You know what? I won’t.” Without another word, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

You stood frozen in place, your chest tight and tears pricking your eyes. You'd argued before, sure, but this time felt different—more real. You sank onto the couch, mind racing with questions you didn’t have answers to.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

During the days following the argument, you tried to go about life as normal, but Mark’s absence hung over you like a dark cloud. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. Jaemin was the first to notice.

The two of you were sitting on a park bench after grabbing coffee, the late afternoon sun casting warm light over the pond in front of them. Your barely touched your drink, gaze distant as you stared at the ducks paddling by.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Jaemin said gently, voice soft, as if he was afraid of what he was about to say.

“I’m fine,” you replied automatically, though your voice lacked any sense of genuineness.

Jaemin tilted his head, studying you with a soft, understanding look. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping. “Mark and I had a fight. He’s been acting so weird, and I don’t know why. It’s like he’s mad at me for something, but he won’t tell me what.”

Jaemin hesitated, his expression thoughtful. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you don’t have feelings for Mark?”

Your head snapped up, your eyes wide in surprise, looking at her boyfriend, shocked. “What? No. Of course I don’t. He’s my best friend.”

Jaemin didn’t say anything right away, his gaze steady but kind. “Listen,” he began carefully, “you’re a great girl. Really. But... I think you might care about him more than you realize.”

You shook your head, a pit of dread bubbling in your stomach. “Jaemin, I—I like you. I do.”

“I know,” he said softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But not the way you like him. And that’s okay.”

Tears stung your eyes as guilt washed over you. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do this to you,” you whispered.

“Don’t be,” Jaemin said, placing a reassuring hand over yours. “You can’t help how you feel. And honestly? I think you should talk to him. Figure it out.”

You sniffled, giving him a small, watery smile. “You’re too nice, you know that?”

Jaemin laughed, leaning back against the bench. “I know.”

Despite the weight of their conversation, you felt a strange sense of clarity. You didn’t know what you were going to say to Mark, but for the first time, you knew you had to try.

You left the park bench with a renewed sense of purpose and a goal, to talk to Mark.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Jaemin was lying on your bed, legs stretched out as you paced back and forth. You had been trying to contact Mark for days—texts, calls, voicemails—but every attempt was met with silence. And it was driving you crazy.

“I don’t get it,” you mumbled, frustration and sadness evident in your voice. “He’s never acted like this before. We’ve argued before and we always made up, but now... now he’s avoiding me like I’m some kind of plague.”

Jaemin watched you, a quiet understanding in his gaze. He could tell how much it was bothering you, even though you were trying your very best to hide it.

“You’re not giving up, are you?” Jaemin asked, leaning forward slightly.

You stopped mid-pace, looking at him with a mixture of exhaustion and annoyance. “I don’t have a choice, Jaemin. He clearly doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe I messed up, maybe I pushed him too far, but he’s not responding.”

Jaemin shook his head, his smile soft but firm. “Don’t give up on him, Y/N. You love him, and he clearly feels something similar for you. Maybe he just needs a little push.”

You sigh, sitting down beside him on the bed. “I just don’t know what else to do. It’s not like I haven’t tried.”

Jaemin paused for a second, a glint of mischief creeping into his eyes. “Well, what if I told you I had a plan to make him face you?”

You raise an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “What?”

He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “I do. But you’re gonna have to trust me on this one.”

You frowned but nodded, trusting Jaemin more than anyone else. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

Jaemin leaned in, his voice lowering to a whisper as he began to lay out the details of his plan. He knew it was a little underhanded, but if it meant fixing things with Mark and you, he was willing to take the risk.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A few days later, Mark was hanging out with his friends Haechan and Chenle at their usual café. He had been avoiding you, and it wasn’t because he wanted to. The guilt gnawed at him every time he saw your name pop up on his phone, but he didn’t know how to fix things. Every time he thought about talking to you, he freaked out, not knowing if he could handle being rejected by you.

“Man, you’ve been really quiet lately,” Haechan said, nudging Mark’s shoulder. “What’s up with you?”

Mark shrugged, not meeting either of their gazes. “Just… tired, I guess.”

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Tired? Dude, you’re literally doing nothing. Just hiding out at home all day.”

“Yeah,” Haechan added, “and avoiding Y/N. Come on, what’s going on between you two?”

Mark stiffened, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of your name. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his phone buzzed. A new message from Jaemin.

Hey, man. I need you to do me a favor.

Mark hesitated for a moment before replying, his fingers hovering over the keys. What’s up?

I need you to meet me at the park in 30 minutes. Trust me, it’s important.

Mark frowned, sensing something was off, but he couldn’t figure out what. Okay, fine. I’ll be there.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket, barely noticing Haechan and Chenle’s knowing smiles.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

When Mark arrived at the park, he found Jaemin leaning against a bench, looking unusually serious.

“Why’d you need me to meet you?” Mark asked, crossing his arms and trying to hide his nervousness.

Jaemin smiled mischievously for a split second, but then he stood up straighter, his tone firm. “I’m going to help you fix things with Y/N.”

Mark blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Jaemin exhaled deeply, looking Mark in the eye. “Y/N’s been acting weird. Because you’re avoiding her. And I get it, man. I really do. But you’re hurting her by not talking to her. And she doesn’t deserve that.”

Mark felt a pang in his chest, guilt flooding his mind. “I know, but it’s complicated…”

“Complicated or not,” Jaemin interrupted, “you can’t just leave things like this. You’re her best friend, Mark. You mean everything to her.”

Mark’s throat tightened, his hands trembling slightly. “Why do you care? She’s your girlfriend.”

Jaemin’s expression hardened slightly. “Actually, she’s not. You’d know that if you answered her calls.”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “What?”

Jaemin sighed, “Listen man, I like her, I do, but she doesn’t feel the same. We broke up. And now I’ve been trying to help her contact you. You’re hurting her a lot by ignoring her like this.”

Mark groaned, feeling a sense of disbelief that your ex-boyfriend was currently trying to convince him to confess his feelings to you.

Jaemin ignores the clear shock on Mark’s face, pulling out his phone and smirking. “I’ve been talking to Haechan and Chenle. They’re on board with this. We’ve already arranged it. You two are meeting up, whether you like it or not.”

Mark’s eyes widened as he realized Jaemin had masterminded the whole thing. “You… you told them?”

Jaemin gave him a pointed look. “I did. And you’re gonna thank me later.”

Before Mark could protest any further, he heard your voice from behind him. “I’m here.”

Mark turned around, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw you standing there, looking as nervous as he felt.

Jaemin stepped back, a sly grin on his face. “You two figure it out. I’ll leave you to it.”

As Jaemin walked away, Mark stood there, unsure of how to approach the situation. He wanted to run, but Jaemin’s words echoed in his head: You can’t just leave things like this.

You looked at him, eyes filled with uncertainty, and Mark’s heart sank seeing your disheveled state. He had to fix this. And he was going to try, no matter how scared he was.

Mark stood frozen for a moment, staring at you as you approached. His heart hammered in his chest, and all he could think was how easy it would be to turn around and walk away. To just disappear before this moment could get any more uncomfortable. But as much as he wanted to run, he couldn’t. Not when you had been so patient, so understanding—he owed you this conversation.

“Mark,” You called out softly, your voice hesitant but steady.

He exhaled, pushing the thought of escape aside, and turned to face you. You looked just as uncertain as he felt, and it made the guilt rise within him all over again.

You silently walked to a nearby bench, and Mark sat down first, his hands gripping the edge of the seat as if it could anchor him to reality. You sat beside him, her posture stiff, like you were preparing for some awful outcome.

After a long pause, you broke the silence. “Why have you been avoiding me?” you asked, voice a little softer than he expected, clearly you were nervous.

Mark felt his stomach drop, a wave of regret crashing over him. “Y/N, I…” He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I said that. I just… I was confused. I’ve been confused for a while.”

You frowned, clearly still unsure of where this was going. “Confused about what?”

“I—” He cut himself off, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship, but there was no other way around it. “I’ve been in love with you, Y/N. For a long time now. And I didn’t know how to deal with it. So, I tried to ignore it.”

Your breath hitched, and you turned your head to look at him, your wide eyes betraying her mask of calmness. “What?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” he continued, voice thick with anxiety. “I was afraid that if I told you, you’d never want to talk to me again. And I’ve… I’ve been avoiding you ever since, because I thought if I just stayed away, it would be easier.”

You shook your head slowly, eyes glistening as you processed his words. “Mark… you’re my best friend. You should have told me.”

“I know. I should have,” he muttered, feeling even more ashamed. “I messed up. And then I lashed out at you, and that was stupid.”

You sigh deeply, and then, surprisingly, smile softly at him. “It’s okay, Mark. I get it now. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it, but I was just too scared to admit how I felt.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you continued, your voice trembling a little, “I’m in love with you, too. I just didn’t want to mess things up, either. I didn’t want to lose our friendship.”

Mark’s heart skipped a beat. He blinked at you, his mind racing to process your confession. “You… you love me?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. I’m sorry I acted the way I did and I’m sorry for always bringing up Jaemin around you, I just—”

Mark could feel the weight of it all crashing down on him. His chest tightened, and the guilt that had been gnawing at him for weeks was replaced by a rush of clarity. He couldn’t let this moment slip away, not after everything the two of you had been through.

Before you could say another word, Mark reached out, cupping your face gently with his hand. He leaned in and kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with a softness that made your heart race.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you pulled back slightly, voice shaky. “Oh my god.”

Mark chuckled softly, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

You blinked, still processing everything. “I… I didn’t expect that.”

Mark smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it either. But I guess it was time for me to stop being an idiot.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re not an idiot, Mark. You’re just… well, maybe a little bit. But I’m glad we’re talking about this now.”

He nodded, his smile growing wider. “Me too. And, uh, I guess we can’t just go back to how things were, right?”

You grinned, your eyes twinkling. “Yeah, I don’t think we can. But I’m okay with that.”

Mark took a deep breath, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “So, what now?”

You thought for a moment before shrugging. “I think we should just… figure it out. We already know each other so well, so maybe it’ll be easy.”

Mark grinned, feeling a warmth spread through him. “Yeah, I think we can make it work.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𝟅𝟈 omg another fic we cheered. thank u to the like 20 people who like my writing i really appreciate it. lmk if you have any requests pls

masterlist.

#jaeyunluvbot #kpop #nct dream #nct 127 #y/n #college au #mark lee #lee minhyung #mark #neo culture technology #friends to lovers #maybe angst #happy ending #jaemin #chenle #lee haechan

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httpsdana · 2 months ago

Note

heyy! i feel bad for putting in a request hopefully ur not busy. just wanted to say i love ur fics sm and hope u are having a great day.

so today im like not feeling myself and upset and wanted to know if u could make a cubarsi fic with fluff.

so i have a science project and im the only one working and we have so much to do and my friends are stressing me. my parents are helping but yk when it’s too much.

so anything with Pau x reader with Pau comforting her would be amazing tysmm! 💕🫶🏽

Heartfelt Equations~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

y/n is staring at her laptop screen, eyes glazed over, feeling like she's drowning in numbers, notes, and complicated diagrams.

The clock on the wall ticks loudly, reminding her of the deadline creeping closer, and she can feel the stress building like a storm inside you.

Her group of friends was supposed to be helping, but one by one, they’d left her to handle everything alone. Her family offered what help they could, but it was clear that science projects weren’t their strong suit. She was in this alone, and it was overwhelming.

Suddenly, she heard a familiar knock at the door, followed by the gentle creak as it opens. Before she can even turn around, a pair of warm arms wrap around her shoulders from behind.

“Hey, mi pequeña científica,” Pau’s soft voice fills the room, his chin resting on top of her head. (my little scientist)

“You look like you’re about two seconds away from throwing this laptop out the window.” he joked, sensing her overwhelmed situation.

y/n let out a sigh, leaning back into his embrace. “Two seconds? I think I’m already there,” she muttered, closing her eyes to keep the frustration at bay. “This project is impossible, and none of my friends have helped at all. I’m just… I don’t even know where to start anymore.”

Pau gently spins her chair to face him, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looks down at her with a soft smile. “Let me see this mess, then. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving until we get this done together, okay?”

She looked at him, a flicker of hope sparking in her chest.

“You mean it? You don’t have to—” she started

“Of course I mean it,” he interrupts, pulling her up from the chair and guiding her to the kitchen table where all her papers are scattered. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my amazing, hardworking girl drown in science notes?”

y/n let out a laugh at his words, feeling some of the tension slip away. “Alright, you asked for it. Welcome to the chaos,” she said gesturing to the mess of papers, half-finished calculations, and diagrams that don’t even make sense to her anymore.

Pau grins, sitting beside hee and picking up a stray page. “Wow, you really went all out here. Let’s see, we’ve got… a million equations and some pretty impressive doodles on the side of this page.” He points to a little sketch she'd absentmindedly drawn of a sun with sunglasses.

she blushed, reaching to snatch the paper from him, but he holds it out of reach, laughing. “No way! I’m keeping this as evidence of your creative genius. But seriously,” he says, his expression softening, “you’re incredible for even attempting this all on your own. Now, let’s break it down together, alright?”

With a deep breath, she nods and explains the project to him, pointing out all the sections that still need to be done. Pau listens carefully, nodding along, and as soon as she's finished explaining, he grabs a pencil and a fresh piece of paper.

“Alright, my love. You take care of the data, and I’ll start on the graphs. Let’s tackle this step by step.” he said, giving her an encouraging smile.

They both dive into the work, and it’s like a weight has been lifted. Pau’s presence grounds her, his little jokes making her smile as he meticulously draws out her graphs and even colors them in with highlighters he found in her pencil case. Every now and then, he looks up at her with a grin.

“You know, you’re gonna owe me a big thank-you kiss for all this coloring,” he teases, holding up a bright yellow bar he’s highlighted.

“Oh, trust me,” she laughs, “I’ll give you all the kisses you want after this.”

“Deal,” he says, his eyes twinkling as he reaches over and plants a quick kiss on her forehead.

Hours pass, and the project finally starts coming together. With one last click, y/n saves the final document, and an overwhelming sense of relief washes over her. She slumps back in her chair, exhaling deeply.

“It’s… it’s done,” she whispers, almost in disbelief.

Pau immediately pulls her into his arms, lifting her off the chair and twirling her around. “I told you we’d finish it. Look at you, mi genio. You did it” (my genius)

Giggling, she wraps her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he spins her. When he finally sets her down, they're both breathless and laughing. Pau cups her face, brushing his thumbs gently over her cheeks.

“You know, I’m really proud of you. You didn’t give up, even when it got tough,” he says softly, his gaze filled with admiration. “You’re amazing.”

A blush rises to her cheeks as she smiles up at him. “Thank you, Pau. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Of course you could have,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to her nose. “But I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Now…” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “How about we celebrate?”

y/n snuggled into his embrace, feeling the last remnants of stress melt away. “What kind of celebration did you have in mind?”

“Hmm,” he says, pretending to think, “how about ice cream? The biggest sundae we can find?”

She laughs gently, looking up at him with a grin. “You know the way to my heart.”

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her softly. “I know, hermosa. And for the record,” he murmurs, brushing his lips across hers, “I love you. Stress and all.”

Her heart fluttered as she reaches up, winding her arms around his neck. “I love you too, my little science assistant.”

He laughs, pulling her in for another kiss, deeper and slower this time. The world feels calm and steady, and in his arms, everything feels perfectly, wonderfully right.

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flipppyflopp · 5 months ago

Text

“This museum is celebrating its 100th anniversary? Wonder if there will be any pictures of me during its 200th anniversary.” 🎉✨

Happy birthday to my twst oc, Finn Lyder! I wanted to celebrate by doing my own spin on the Platinum Suit cards, so I decided to have Finn carrying a tray of candy apples since none of the other Pomefiore Platinum Suit cards include a snack. Then I let people over on Instagram vote for Finn’s duo partner and they all chose Sebek (which is a perfect pick since they are both in the Equestrian Club), so I included a doodle of what Sebek would give him for his birthday.

Below is a vignette I wrote for Finn and Sebek in the style of the other Platinum Suit cards, so feel free to read it below! Enjoy!

Platinum Suit template by @fumikomiyasaki

Finn’s Platinum Suit Vignette

Finn: This place just keeps going and going. I think there can’t be another floor and then there’s another set of stairs waiting for me. I’m tired of climbing stairs, let’s see what we’ve got on this floor.

Finn: Oh! A picture of the raven that served the Fairest Queen. What a loyal sidekick to have at her beck and call, makes me want one of my own.

???: Who’d want to serve as your sidekick?

Finn: Speaking of sidekicks, looks like I stumbled into one of Malleus’s sidekicks.

Sebek: Excuse you, human! I am not Lord Malleus’s sidekick. I am his loyal knight ready to protect him at a moment’s notice.

Finn: Geez, is there really a difference?

Sebek: What was that!?

Finn: Nothing! Just admiring how this painting captures the likeness of the Fairest Queen’s loyal servant.

Sebek: Really? How so?

Finn: This raven would fly to the Queen’s side no matter where she was or the time of day. He would also bring her ingredients from all over the world for her potions. Talk about total loyalty.

Sebek: How commendable. Going above and beyond should be the goal of any servant if they truly wish to stand proudly at their liege’s side.

Finn: Makes me want my own loyal companion. Imagine all that I could accomplish.

Sebek: What animal companion would you seek to aid you?

Finn: Hmm. I’ve always wanted a trusty steed…but…

Sebek: Ha! That’s a bold comment considering your performance in the Equestrian Club!

Finn: Hey, I do just fine!

Sebek: Your horse, Minimus, hardly listens to your whims. Often he is leading you around and through the courses.

Finn: I think you’re just exaggerating-

Sebek: Just the other day, you tried to lead Minimus through the mud and he kicked you into it. Then you tried to wrestle him into it as well. Riddle was ready to have both of your heads.

Finn: Don’t remind me. I had to clean the whole stables by myself, which took forever.

Sebek: Maybe you’re more cut out to be Minimus’s sidekick.

Finn: What?! Don’t be ridiculous! Me? A sidekick for a horse?

Finn: One day Minimus and I will be the best duo there ever was! Just you watch!

Sebek: Now here’s a painting I recognize. This is the rabbit known for his punctuality according to Deuce’s anecdotes about his hometown.

Finn: Yeah the White Rabbit was always in a rush from place to place. He worked hard to always be on time and do his duty. I don’t know how he did it.

Sebek: Oh, do you have trouble with tardiness, Finn?

Finn: Most days no, but occasionally I do oversleep.

Sebek: How many detentions have you received this year?

Finn: None.

Sebek: None!? That’s not possible if you’ve been late to class!

Finn: Watch the volume! Geez…I have a secret to not getting any detentions or tardies.

Sebek: Really? What is it?

Finn: Parkour.

Sebek: What!? How does that safeguard you from detentions?

Finn: Let’s take last week for example. I overslept because I stayed up to study for a big exam in Alchemy. I’m sure you already know that Crewel is unforgiving of tardiness, so I knew I would receive an automatic fail if I showed up late for oversleeping.

Sebek: He is ruthless when it comes to punctuality.

Finn: So I had to make it to the third floor and I was right in front of the main staircase; however, I encountered an obstacle.

Sebek: Which was?

Finn: Professor Crewel himself.

Sebek: What a grim predicament to be in.

Finn: Exactly. Crewel smirked and began heading up the stairs. Obviously if I wanted to beat him to class I’d have to sprint by him, which would give me a detention and I’d still be late. Instead, I took off into the courtyard. From there I took a running start and swung up onto the nearby archway. I quickly scaled the siding and used a column on the side of the school to climb my way up to the third floor. I jumped from window to window until I made my way to where the Alchemy lab would be on the third floor.

Sebek: What physical prowess! But you still haven’t gotten into the lab.

Finn: Well from there it was down to luck because the person sitting in front of the window was none other than Silver. I quickly tapped on the window and luckily, he turned around and let me in. Then I shut the window and slid into my seat just as Crewel walked in. I wish you could have seen the look on his face. He was so mad, but he couldn’t fault me because I was in my seat before he arrived. So that, Sebek, is how parkour has saved me from getting detentions.

Sebek: I can’t say I approve of you besmirching the school grounds, but I can commend your physical capabilities as not everyone is capable of such feats.

Finn: I would besmirch the school grounds again and again if it means I don’t besmirch my attendance record. Vil would never let me live it down if I couldn’t make it to class on time.

Finn: Oh, I recognize this painting. I used to love this story as a kid.

Sebek: Really? I’m not familiar with this piece.

Finn: This shows the demigod at the end of his journey to become a hero. He had been adopted by a loving couple, but he set out to find his real family because he wanted to know where he came from and where he belonged. At the end of his journey he realized that it didn’t matter who his family was because he had found where he belonged, with those who helped him along the way.

Sebek: What a touching tale. Is it a story your parents read to you as a child?

Finn: No, I grew up in an orphanage. I never knew my parents.

Sebek: I apologize for my carelessness! I shouldn’t have asked something so thoughtlessly-

Finn: It’s really fine Sebek, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t really care to know who my parents are or who they were. I’m me and that’s what matters.

Sebek: Really? You have no need to satiate a curiosity to know your past?

Finn: Yep. Besides, if I didn’t grow up in the orphanage, I wouldn’t have met so many interesting people. I always had plenty of kids to play with, not to mention I got to hear all kinds of stories.

Sebek: I suppose you would get to meet people from all over Twisted Wonderland.

Finn: Yeah, there was never a dull moment back at home. If I didn’t grow up there, then I never would’ve known all those kids.

Sebek: Huh, what a positive outlook to have.

Finn: Of course that’s just how I see it. There are different perspectives and of course things weren’t perfect as they were, but I was happy, and that’s what really counts. I had a place where I belonged.

Sebek: A place to belong…

Finn: But I won’t be going back there after I graduate. I probably won’t ever go back.

Sebek: Bwah!? Why not if you think on it so fondly?

Finn: There’s nothing left for me there as most kids come and go very quickly, so the ones I know won’t even be there anymore. Besides, my eyes are on the future now! Twisted Wonderland’s a big place and I’ve got tons I want to see.

Sebek: Really? Where’s one place you’d want to go to?

Finn: How about…Briar Valley? With you serving as my personal tour guide!

Sebek: What!? How dare you boldly assume I’d serve as a guide for you, human!

Finn: Come on, we’re club mates, not to mention I’m your upperclassman.

Sebek: I won’t allow you to persuade me so easily!

Finn: Really? Then I’ll just go ask Silver and he’ll say yes.

Sebek: Huh?

Finn: There’s no way he’d turn me down, he’s such a nice guy. Thanks for hanging out, see you later Sebek!

Sebek: Wait! Don’t think I’ll let this drop so easily, Finn!

#finn lyder #finnegan lyder #twst oc #vil schoenheit #pomefiore #sebek zigvolt #silver #diasomnia #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanart #twst fanart #ツイステ #ツイステッドワンダーランド #fanart #my art #art #doodle

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itadorey · 1 year ago

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☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆[𝟒:𝟑𝟐 𝐩.𝐦.] 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

notes: fluff, ~700 words, valentine's day, gn reader

megumi blinks slowly as he stares at the object being held out in front of him.

it's cute, he thinks as he studies the small bag quietly. it's decorated with pink and red hearts, containing what seems to be chocolates that vaguely resemble his shikigami.

"don't read into it too much," nobara snaps, placing a hand on her hip and tapping her foot impatiently when she notices that megumi makes no move to grab them. she sighs loudly as she shoves them towards him, forcing him to take them before she lets them drop to the ground. "they're gratitude chocolates."

"clearly," he responds, opening the bag and grabbing one of the treats. he hums his thanks as he savors the candy, pausing only to tilt his head as a curious look makes it's way onto his face. "what are they for?"

"seriously?" nobara hisses, her eye twitching slightly at his cluelessness. "they're for valentine's day, fushiguro! we made bags of chocolate for everyone."

"we?" megumi asks, his eyes widening briefly at nobara's words. he stealthily slips his phone out of his pocket to check the date, silently wondering when the hell it became february. he nods his head as he puts his phone away, silently thanking nobara for the chocolates and receiving a sigh in return.

"stay here, okay?" she says, tilting her head to the side as she walks away from him. "someone else has been looking for you all day."

a slight blush paints megumi's cheeks when he looks in the direction she motioned to, only for it to fade when he notices you and yuuji standing a few meters away. you're smiling softly as you hand the pink-haired boy a white box, causing him to smile widely before picking you up and spinning you around. megumi can't help the way his heart drops at the sight, and he finds himself wondering if nobara had mentioned anything about you giving out boxes of chocolate.

he forces a tiny smile onto his face when you suddenly look over to meet his gaze, waving excitedly before motioning for him to stay put. you turn back to say something to yuuji, looking down bashfully as he says something back and glances towards megumi.

it's only a matter of seconds before you're standing in front of him, your breath catching in your throat as you study him quietly. he's so unfairly pretty, and you force yourself to hold out the item in your hands before you can chicken out.

"happy valentine's day, megumi!" you say, a large smile on your face as you wait for him to react. he's silent as he observes you, your finger shaking slightly as you do your best to look anywhere but his eyes. his heart nearly skips a beat when he realizes that you're holding out a box similar to the one you had given yuuji, the difference being that the one in front of him is covered with doodles drawn in the sparkly, pink ink of the pen he knows you're fond of.

a smile spreads across his face as he studies the doodles, taking note of the fact that they seem to depict scenes from your adventures together. it's just you and him visible in the glittery drawings, no sign of yuuji or nobara present on the box currently being held up to his chest. you sigh shakily as his hands cover yours, and you stumble forward slightly as he pulls the box towards him. there's a slight shake of your head as you frown at your own nervousness, but you freeze when you notice the soft look in megumi's eyes as he looks at you.

"i hope you can accept my gift," you finally whisper, your heart pounding as you wait for his response. the real meaning of your words is left unsaid, but both of you know that you're not just simply talking about the chocolates.

megumi can't help the soft chuckle that leaves his lips at your sudden bashfulness, his mind racing a mile a minute as he begins to think abut what he can give you in return on white day. you feel your cheeks heat up when one of his hands takes the box from you, his other hand grabbing onto one of yours and intertwining your fingers together.

"of course i will."

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

#megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk imagine #megumi imagine #fushiguro imagine #fushiguro megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro imagine #jjk fluff #megumi fluff #fushiguro fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #megumi imagines

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yangkitties · 2 years ago

Text

Stray Kids as… your college boyfriends <3

pairing: ot8 x gn!reader || word count: 1.1k genre: 100% fluff 🫶 || warnings: none (except you will feel extremely single after reading this-), not proofread but i think it should be okay :D synopsis: how stray kids are as your college boyfriends :] note: !! it's here !!! my first post !! i'm excited, i hope you enjoy 😁🫶 (feel free to pop into my ask box to chat hehe)

Chan

let’s you steal his hoodies

super late night study sessions together

probably walks the entire campus just to pick you up from class

soooo many cuddle sessions

late night grocery runs

The room is mostly quiet, the silence punctuated by the click clack of computer keys and the lazy scribble of pens as you and Chan work side by side. A few more pages of notes and you’d be done for the day.

The night grows, slowly but surely, yet the both of you stay by each other’s sides, working in harmony. The silence is broken finally by a barely stifled yawn, coming out of your mouth.

‘You tired, darling?’ Chan asks, spinning in his chair to face you.

‘Not really, just hungry.’ You reply, stretching your arms.

A beat of silence passes before you make eye contact, his dark brown eyes filling your vision. You already knew what each of you were going to say, but it didn’t matter.

‘Late night grocery run?’ You both giggle, already getting up to grab your jackets.

Minho

loads of walks in the campus park while holding hands

you guys get a small apartment together and adopt a cat

lots of weekend trips away

cooks lunch for you and leaves cheesy notes in them >.<

likes to lovingly tease you at any given point of time

Soft purring wakes you up from a nap, and you feel the scratch of soft fur beneath your chin the more conscious you become. Your eyes are filled with the sight of a sheepish Minho, whose arms are full holding a writhing fur ball.

‘Sorry, I tried not to let him wake you up.’ He apologises, a small kiss placed on the crown of your head.

You smile, ‘It’s okay, its high time I woke up anyways.’ You pull the cat into your arms, gently petting his head.

‘Well that’s right. If you spent anymore time sleeping, you’d end up becoming prettier than me.’ Minho rolls his eyes before joining you on the couch, his head soon finding solace on top of your shoulder.

Changbin

holds your hand whenever he can

long drives to the beach or nearby towns >:(

takes you out every weekend

gets matching tattoos that are tiny so even if you break up you won’t forget him

SERENADES YOU ALL THE TIME !!!! Sitting together, doing nothing? Singing for you. Cooking? Singing for you. Loves the way you blush when he sings for you <3

It’s a peaceful night, where the both of you are just chilling together. A comfortable silence wraps around the both of you as you do your own things.

The silence is soon broken, as Changbin’s sweet voice fills your ears. Another pretty love song flows past his lips, causing a smile to break out onto your face.

‘Why, thank you my Binnie baby.’ You giggle, reaching over and kissing him softly.

‘Anything for you sweetheart.’

Hyunjin

FORCES you to steal his hoodies

leaves cute little doodles all over ur things. enjoys sketching you <3

so. many. kisses.

let’s you play with his hair when your stressed

tries to help you study but ends up distracting you

A flash of a yellow sticky note catches your eyes as you arrange your textbook on your desk. When you flip it open you see a small doodle of a flower on it, with the message ‘a pretty flower for my pretty flower <3 - love hyune’

You quickly take a picture, sending a text out to Hyunjin.

‘thank you baby <3’

It takes but a second for you to receive a reply.

‘anything for you my love’

Jisung

soooo many movie nights

endless cuddles

takes you out to small impromptu dates ever so often

enjoys sharing clothes with you! more than you stealing his hoodies, he’s stealing your clothes, and occasionally accessories

likes getting kisses from you

‘Hey honey, where’s that light green hoodie of yours? I bought some new pants and I want to see if they match,’ Jisung calls out as he claws through your wardrobe.

‘Babe didn’t you wear it two days ago? It should be in the laundry then.’ You giggle as Jisung turns around with a pout. ‘Damn I really wanted to wear it…’

‘Well maybe you should consider buying your own one, instead of stealing all of mine.’ You joke, knowing full and well that he’d rather wear yours.

Felix

bakes you treats whenever your stressed (it’s stress relieving for him too)

BACK HUGS WHENEVER HE SEES YOU

picnic dates

holds your hand while walking to class

makes matching bracelets for you both

Two strong arms encircle your waist, immediately indicating that Felix had found you. You look up to see his endearing smile, dimples popping and eyes shining.

‘Hello my lovely Lix.’ You coo at him before he could even say anything.

‘Hi baby! I was just walking to class and I saw you waiting outside. Want me to walk you to your next lecture?’ Felix offers, now beside you, arms wrapped around your shoulder.

‘I’d love that, thank you.’ You beam up at him as the both of you make your way over to your next class.

Seungmin

kisses you allllll over your face, but especially loves ur nose

sings you to sleep when ur stressed

so many goddamn library dates fr, just sitting in silence, studying together

brings you your morning coffee everyday

likes to take you shopping because he loves the way you smile when he says you look good <3

‘How does this look?’ You twirled around once, showing off a simple jumper for Seungmin to judge.

A soft smile takes over Seungmin’s lips, as his thumb brushed against your wrist. ‘You look absolutely gorgeous baby,’ he said.

‘Thank you, my love.’ You smile at him before dipping into the trail room once more.

Jeongin

the best boyfriend fr fr!! walks to class with you, holds your hand, actually helps you study

gets you so many matching items <3

is a shy baby when it comes to showing PDA

temple/forehead kisses

likes to take you out on simple dates

‘Cmon just another second, don’t open your eyes yet!!!’ Jeongin pleaded as you rolled your closed eyes, huffing as your boyfriend struggled to surprise you.

‘Okay, you can open them now!!’ In front of your eyes, Jeongin’s palm lays open with 2 silver necklaces in it. You picked one up and noticed that the heart pendant had your initials engraved in it. ‘Do you like it? The one with your initials is for me and the one with my initials is for you.’ Jeongin smiles expectantly, noticing the shine in your eyes.

‘Oh baby, I love it… thank you.’

©️ yangkitties 2023 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost

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afreakingdork · 1 month ago

Note

Hi-a Miss Dork! I just wanna say I absolutely adore your writing (and you’re one of my biggest inspirations on this site)! Anywizzle! I noticed your little requests thing, and figured I’d conquer my social anxiety to send this.

In light of my recent adventures last weekend where I tried to fist fight one of my friends twice my size, would you be interested in a little drabble with our beloved purple boy and a s/o who’s had a little too much to drink, like world is spinning and all types of filters are gone as they speak the first thoughts on their mind kind of drunk. And he’s kind of amused, kind of worried as they stumble around talking nonsense and try to make themselves another drink they clearly shouldn’t have.

Hope you have a great day/night!

*In batman voice* “Justice.”

Writing Request: Drunk Reader x Donnie 🍺

Thank you so much! It sounds like you had a great weekend and I ope you enjoy this as well!

From now until the poll closes, if you can prove to me that you voted Hassan/Mikey in this poll then I will write any short 100-400 word request like below or draw you a doodle of your choosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

Teen rated drunken mischief below!

You were gone.

Donnie had just located you and you were gone.

You had to be somewhere.

You couldn't just vanish.

Unless you had one of Leo's emergency portals which, without question, Donnie needed to get away from you in these circumstances.

The fact that he even considered removing your emergency exit talked to what a blight this night was.

You had gone out with friends. It was not an uncommon occurrence. You had been dating far long enough for him to become more than secure. He enjoyed that you were happy and liked to go out with your buddies. You always came home a tipsy snuggle bug which made it more than worth his while; these were all average events.

What wasn't was your drunk texts.

They came in delirious spurts that were basically unreadable.

He thought of them as hieroglyphics written by your gorgeous ass.

He dismissed them as a silly mistake and then received a call.

"DOOONNIIIEEEEE!!!!" You screeched through the receiver at a volume that made him pull the phone away.

"Yes, my sweet inebriated beloved...?" He was wary in bringing the phone back.

"I like you." You giggled like a school kid telling their crush and he almost bed you were about to run away in the form of hanging up.

"Is that so?" He leaned back from the blueprints he was drawing.

"Yeah..." You seemed to ponder.

The bar rumbled static behind your pause. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, totally! They have this deal! Oh, you wouldn't believe! You get this tower. It's like a storm or something and then they serve it and you go like-!" You whooped into a gesture and someone else clearly yelled.

A deep voice responded telling you to watch yourself.

"Listen here, pal!" You shouted.

Donnie was growing pale as he didn't hear the heated response past 'pipsqueak.'

"Oh, it's on!" There was a harsh clatter before the line cut off.

The terminated call screen blinked with a choice to redial.

Donnie hit the button with a quaking thumb.

An automated voice told him the number he reached-

He was at the bar before his blood pressure lowered enough that he could see where he was going. He stormed straight through the packed club and dropped his goggles with a flick of his head. It drowned out the unnecessary noise and kicked up mapping.

There'd be a trail.

There'd be every indication where you had gone.

He had your metrics down to a science.

Heat signatures.

Scent markers.

He could track you no matter where you-

You were dancing on a bar.

He stared on, unblinking, as he brought his goggles up.

You swiveled and dropped your hips to the cheering of your friends and you looked completely uninjured.

He almost didn't even care what happened.

You were safe.

You looked to be having fun.

He sighed at the anxiety he suffered, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He bet you wouldn't mind his company and headed toward you.

Where you promptly fell from your spot because you backstepped in beat.

You disappeared behind the counter and Donnie ran.

In two leaps he was there and the moment he looked behind the bar, you weren't.

How was that possible?

He hadn't blinked.

You'd gotten into something mystic that had to be it.

His goggles were malfunctioning for not picking it up.

He heard your sweet laughter.

He rose up to see a bartender glowering down at him where he was invading the space.

Donnie shoved right by the man because a sliver of you was sitting on the counter. "Hey!!"

You looked and lit up. "Donnie!!"

You fell straight at him and he had to catch you.

"Again? That's it. Off! Off!" The bartender shooed you.

Donnie carried you as a giggling package away.

"Boop." You tried to poke the tip of his snout and pissed.

You reeked.

Even with all the assaulting scents of the bar, you in particular were exuding a dangerous amount of alcohol. He got you off to a wall before he set you down. Taking a moment to make a mental map with you safely caged by his body, he formed a breathalyzer with his ninpo and offered it to you. "Blow."

"Oh! Demanding tonight." You tittered. "Not even your birthday..."

He waited.

"Unless..." You swayed as you looked over his person. "Did you split the days again?"

"Darling, I implore you, for a moment, could you simply blow into the device."

"What device?"

He held up the glowing object more obviously.

"Why didn't you say so!?" You giggled and grabbed it.

You tongue it more than putting your mouth around it which made him shudder despite having no senses connected to the construction and he reminded you two more times to blow before you finally did with a hefty huff.

The screen ticked and Donnie thought you might have to try again before it decided 0.23% was a good score.

He blinked at it.

He looked at you where you were sliding down out of his hold.

He watched almost mesmerized as you slunk straight to your butt and very ungracefully tried and failed to get on your feet.

"What did you have?!" He squawked.

"Storm!! Whoosh!" You swung your arms.

"That doesn't mean anything! Where are your friends?"

"Where...?" You tried to move again and almost toppled over.

He hoisted you up like a toddler.

This was his night now.

Babysitting.

You were supposed to come back so cute.

Snuggle into his bed.

Instead you were fighting him like a cat that didn't want to be held. "I'll look!"

"No. I will!" Donnie glanced out for an abysmal moment.

He switched to his goggles a second later and saw scans of their paltry analytics going out and getting a cab."

"They ditched you!?"

"No! Who!?" You held his same tone.

"What happened to your phone!?" He turned on you.

You clucked. "Your forehead gets all wrinkly when you yell."

"Phone!"

"Washboard." You sang off-key notes of a bluegrass tune as you tried to play his forehead.

"No!"

He caught your hand.

"No!"

He reinforced his point by sticking his finger in your face.

Your gaze swam and you tried to bit him.

He yanked his hand away.

"Nope! No more! I'm done! I'm calling it! Bar's closed! You're going home! Those friends of yours better not have left the tab!"

"Nooo!!" You drew out your whine. "I want another drink!"

"Absolutely not! Do you want to chance alcohol poisoning?!"

You almost answered, but he hefted you up under his arm.

"Don't answer that as you aren't in the right mind to respond adequately."

You giggled and swung your dangling arms as he brought you to the bar.

it was a struggle as you kept moving, but he eventually got you there after only knocking over a total of two people.

The moment he set you on the counter to keep you out of trouble, the bartender turned on him.

"Not you again! I said no! Get that one off!"

"Fine! After I pay! Give me the stupid tab!" Donnie snapped right back.

The man rolled his eyes and moved to pull the receipt.

Donnie sighed to one side before he rolled his head back to you. "Let's get you some water-WHERE'D YOU GET THAT!!??"

You had a shot glass to your lips

He smacked it clean out of your hand on reflex.

You stared with wide eyes and hands held up to your lips where you were holding the itty bitty cup that had now shattered on the floor.

"You're paying for that!!" The bartender seethed.

"Yeah! Well!" Donnie hated his foolish response, but he couldn't take his attention away from you again.

In this form, you were far more dangerous than any foe he had ever faced.

"You are shaving years off my lifespan." He told you.

The bartender shoved him a receipt and waited with folded arms.

You were kicking your feet to a song that clearly wasn't play.

Donnie looked at the damaged and his nostrils flared at the price.

"What is this!? How much was that tiny glass!? I can gaffer you another!"

"Three spinning hurricanes, two rounds of shots, two beers, a margarita, and that tiny glass along with pain and suffering and my tip." The bartender leaned forward to illustrate he wouldn't be moved.

Donnie wrapped an arm around you to keep you in place as he got out the bills and not so silently muttered the injustice as he paid.

"Thank you, now get the fuck out." The bartender flicked his head toward the door.

"Check your reviews tomorrow and we'll see who's laughing!" Donnie sneered and hefted you like a bag over his shoulder and on the way out.

You kicked two people in the head and he had no idea how to get you home. You were far too wily to fly with in this condition. He needed to sober you up at least a little so you'd be still. That meant locating the closest food truck, which wasn't far off for the district. He paid another exuberant price for a bottle of water and a set of tacos. He chased you down twice as you tried to escape both times and eventually ninpo'd up a leash to keep you tethered to him.

You sulked straight into the offered platter of food where you immediately abandoned all sorrow for elation.

You ate while spilling filling all over your self and the ground, but Donnie couldn't help but love you.

You were the dork to match his.

You had probably dealt with far stranger after the potion fiasco that had split up his personality.

You drank heartily from your bottle and came away with a satisfied puff.

"Good?" Donnie from where you'd eventually sat own on the dirty sidewalk to eat.

"Good..." You nodded and the motion seemed to come at least a little easier to you. "Where... What happened to my friends?"

"I have no idea." He responded.

You looked up and seemed to sort of register your location. "Ugh. Did... Did i fight a guy?"

He shook his head with the same unknown.

"Must have won." You told yourself with confidence.

"Clearly." He chuffed.

"Buzzing..." Your head tipped.

You weren't moving all that much and seemed to be in a bit of a stupor. "Let's go."

"Kay." You set your trash down to leave, but he scooped it up to toss.

You didn't run away while he did so. You actually slung your arms around his neck when he went to pick you up. He held you close and flew evenly back to the closest entrance to the lair. He counted that as a win as he descended to land.

Dreams of showers and extra steamed cuddling were close at hand.

"Gonna be sick..." You burped over his shoulder.

In an instant shattering, Donnie turned his night over to patting your back while you vomited in an alley and tending to you until you recovered enough in the morning to kiss him gratitude for his care.

He supposed that was just as good.

#me #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing request #requests open #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt Donnie #rally until the tally #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise donnie x reader #tw alcohol

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ruewrote · 2 months ago

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𝑗𝑎𝑐𝑜𝑏 𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠.

navigation | ask | the quarry masterlist

protective, but in the sweetest way:

– jacob is definitely the type to keep an eye on you, not in an overbearing way but more like a silent guardian. he knows you can handle yourself, but he can’t help but worry sometimes, especially after everything that’s happened at hackett’s quarry.

– he’s always the first to throw his arm around your shoulders or stand a little too close when things start to feel sketchy, but he does it with a casualness that makes it feel comforting, like a constant reminder that he’s got your back.

affectionate goof:

– jacob shows his love through physical affection, whether it’s ruffling your hair, giving you playful shoulder bumps, or sneaking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and spin you around.

– he loves making you laugh, often telling terrible jokes just to see your smile and when you do laugh, he grins proudly to himself.

endless compliments:

– jacob’s never shy about telling you how beautiful you are. whether you’re dressed up or just lounging in sweats, he’s always got something sweet to say.

– “how’d i get so lucky, huh?” he’ll ask with a lopsided smile, pulling you into his lap as he playfully pretends to think about it. “seriously though, you’re gorgeous.”

casual dates:

– jacob’s idea of the perfect date is something relaxed and fun, like a late night drive, a picnic by the lake or binge watching a dumb reality show together.

– he loves the idea of little adventures, like spontaneous road trips to nowhere, and insists on pulling over to explore random spots just to make memories with you.

secretly a hopeless romantic:

– even though he’s a bit of a jock and acts all cool, jacob has a soft side when it comes to you. he loves surprising you with random little things. flowers he picked himself, your favorite snacks, or even handwritten notes he leaves around the house.

– sometimes, when you’re lying together he’ll get quiet and just stare at you, thinking about how lucky he is. when you catch him, he’ll just blush and pull you closer, mumbling something like, “can’t help it, you’re too cute.”

jealous, but playful:

– jacob can get a little jealous, but he tries to laugh it off. if someone’s flirting with you, he’ll come up and drape himself over you, saying something like, “hey, babe, didn’t see you talking to this random person here.”

– you’ll tease him about it, but he knows it’s all in good fun. he trusts you completely, but he also loves any excuse to show everyone that you’re his.

cuddling is a must:

– no matter where you are. whether it’s the couch, a hammock or even on the grass under the stars. he’ll pull you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

– he loves resting his head on top of yours or tangling his legs with yours, making sure you’re close enough to feel his warmth. it’s one of the ways he feels most connected to you.

late night talks:

– jacob loves those deep, quiet conversations that happen late at night when you’re both half asleep. you’ll be lying in bed and he’ll start talking about the future or random dreams he’s had.

– sometimes he gets a little vulnerable in these moments, telling you about his fears, his insecurities, and his hopes and you always reassure him, which means alot to him.

playful banter and competition:

– jacob loves a bit of friendly competition and he’ll challenge you to silly things like arm wrestling, races.

– of course, he’ll always let you win (he’ll pretend he wasn’t trying), just to see you smile.

not so secretly sentimental:

– despite his sometimes goofy exterior, jacob holds onto little mementos from your time together. he keeps a collection of photos, random doodles you’ve made, even concert tickets from dates.

– one time, you found him staring at a photo of you two and when you asked about it, he just smiled softly and said, “this one’s my favourite.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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unconventional-lawnchair · 3 months ago

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I'll Look After You Chapter Two

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Summary: {Y/N} reunites with a lost soul, learns the fate of two of her old friends

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, mentions of injury and mourning}

Wc- 5142

Taglist- @otterlockholmes @stylesann @adhxmoony

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound of your quill tip against the edge of your inkwell filled the small cubicle. With Moody away on a mission, you had no one to snap at you about the small fidgets and bits of noises you made. This was your least favorite part of your internship, just waiting and acting like you had things to do. You knew once Moody got back he'd once again break down how to fill out the mission reports and go back to ignoring your existence.

You sighed out dramatically and pressed the feathers of the quill between your upper lip and nose. Not noticing as a bit of ink stained your cheek. It had been a few weeks after the dance and the last thing you needed was to be alone with your thoughts. Instead, you focused on the ambiance of moody’s office. The sound of ruffling paper and the scratch of quills to parchment. The buzz of battery operated lights were preferred to the heat trap that was Moody’s desk, his instance on candlelit space and lanterns that burned threw oil like mad, only succeeded in making the small space unbearably hot.

It did set a melancholy, the warm yellows and hazy space truly made you a bit tired. Arms crossing and leaning down on your desk, chin against your arm, before a voice cut threw the monotony.

“Having fun here, gorgeous?” A voice cut threw your thoughts and dragged you out of your slump. Slowly, you smiled to yourself, leaning back and looking over to the familiar figure in the entrance of the mini office.

“Barty Crouch Jr.” you hummed and he put his hand over his chest in a fake offense.

“My full name? What happened to ‘little bastard’?” Barty purred and you couldn't help but laugh.

You and Barty never talked at school, even with your small friendship with Pandora and Regulus. He had a certain hatred for your rowdy bunch, and in turn, you hated him. However, ever since you got picked up on your apprenticeship, he was always around the corner.

The first few days of pretending you didn't know him didn't work. His father had a habit of dismissing him during hearings, leading him to stray to you. After the first two trivial encounters of fiddling fingers and weird familiarities, the visits became more willing, unfortunately. He was funny, a bit of a flirt, but you learned quickly it was his expression of love, both platonic and intimate. You usually spent this time together listening to him rant and rave about that Evan Rosier kid in Slytherin.

He was another you didn't care for, but Barty was smitten and you never had the heart to tell him how much you disliked to hear about how Rosier had very kissable lips.

Barty was depraved and his filter was non-existent.

You liked him a lot.

“A thousand apologies, lil bastard. What brings you to my slums?” You hummed and he walked over, taking Moody’s seat, man spreading and leaning all the way back. Using his heels to spin the chair around to face you, before idly swaying.

“Dad stuff.” He hummed and looked at you before gesturing to the paper in front of you. You lifted the page so he could get a good look at the scribbles. Doodles, your signature signed the paper in several different ways, and some places with swirls and stars. He laughed.

“That's what they have you doing all the time?” He cheeked and grabbed your quill, still between your lip and nose. He fiddled with it while you smirked.

“Yup, I am the big dog here. They wouldn't dare give me real work. They fear my potential is too great. I may tarnish a record or two.”

“Or your father’s reputation.” Barry mumbled and your smile slowly fell. You sat up and leaned your head in your palm. You carefully looked him over. His confident and excitable posture seemed a bit mellow, and his eyes were drifting everywhere but you.

Ah, that's it.

“Did he say something to you?” You mumbled and he gave a loud exaggerated groan, trying to cover up his watery throat. “I just hate coming here. I mean, my dad is kissing ass all day for a chance at the Minister role, basically ignoring me until he's telling me just how awful I am.” He scoffed and tossed your quill on the counter.

Your brow pinched at his words. Over the very short time you've known Barty, he's always been honest and open with you about his feelings. Maybe it was the anonymity, knowing you wouldn't say a word, you were practically strangers. Or maybe it was how he was with everyone, again, you hardly knew him.

“You know that's not true, right?” You whispered, inching yourself closer by your toes. Barty looked up and slowly smiled at how ridiculous you looked.

“Yeah?” He mumbled.

“Yeah.” You nodded firmly. “You don't have anything to prove to him.”

“It certainly feels it.” He admitted, looking down. Only for a voice to cut in.

“Ah! Good to see you feel comfortable, Junior, please, take the whole desk!” Moody boomed from the entryway before he gestured to the two of you. “The two nepotistic children fancy each others company? Who would have guessed.”

You sighed and gave Barty an apologetic look and he waved his hand. You almost didn't catch the black ink peaking through the top of his sleeves. You quickly reminded yourself that it was likely just a tattoo. Barty was one of the smartest boys you knew, if not the smartest. He wouldn't.

“I'll see you next time.” He put back on his confident look and sent you a wink. You slowly smiled and rolled your eyes, watching as he left. You gathered your things as Moody began to sit down.

“And where do you think yur goin?” He snarked as you filled your bag.

“It's five, Moody. I don't have to waste any time in this building after closing for another two years. Be seeing you.” You dismissed him and he scoffed, “Just because the clock says you're done, you give up? That's not how this world works, girl!”

You scoffed at him, before a familiar voice called out to you two. “Oh, come on, grump. Let the lil Niffler go, she had school in the morning.”

You snapped around on your heel to be greeted by the Prewett twins. Smiling bright at Fabian who was rubbing the back of his neck with a yawn, before Gideon gestured you over. Both of them clearly packed up and ready to go.

“Come on then, we'll walk you to a floo flame.” The older twin spoke up and you nodded, smiling brighter. Hurrying over with a mutter of thanks.

“And stop calling me Niffler.”

“Anything for our little coffee runner.” Gideon mused and threw his arm over your shoulder, making you groan.

“Actually, Niffler is fine.”

~~~

You woke with a stir, once again, from a knock on your bedroom door. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in your surroundings with a start, before you slowly calmed. That wasn't the first time you had a dream about your past memories, but it was the first time it had been that vivid. It was reassuring to be met with the dark thistle print wallpaper, the wood furniture, and the absolute plush mess that was your bed.

Your bedroom wreaked of your youth, records on the wall, half eaten by the vermin that invaded the home. Gryffindor memorabilia that trumped your small touches of green, somehow staying the brightest thing in your home. You did your best to restore it, but it had been a three month long mission returning it to its past glory.

The knock came again and you snapped from your thoughts, sitting up and groaning. “Come in!”

You rubbed your eyes as the door opened, peaking between your fingers as they strained the skin around your eyes, as if that would help wake you.

“Morning.” The familiar sweet honey-like sound filled the room. You slowly smiled as you saw Remus enter, holding two cups of coffee. His voice was always deep in the mornings, more hoarse than most. He must have been up for a while.

“Moony, you're the absolute best.” You mused and made grabby hands for the cup. He laughed and set it in your hands, tapping your calf. You bent your legs on command and he took the space your legs previously occupied.

“Did I wake you?” He hummed before he took a sip of his own bitter mixture. You nodded along and took in the rich smell of what was once expensive and surely delicious foreign coffee, drowned out by an excessive amount of sugar and milk.

“Mhm.. how long have you been up?” You quizzed and took a sip of your overly sweet drink.

“Just a few hours. Padfoot took Harry out to go fly on his new broom over the fields. Woke me up.” He chuckled and you gave a fond smile. The summer had gone so smoothly so far, everything was domestic and homely. It had only been two months, but you fell into an easy routine.

“I hope he takes good care of this one. It would be poetic, Sirius gave him his first and last broom.” You smiled and stared down at the bubbles forming on the top of the coffee. Remus turned to look fully at you, before he slowly reached out to grab one of your ankles, his large hands covering a bit of your calf as well, before he began to rub the skin a bit. You had to bite your bottom lip to keep your mind on one side of the road.

Living with the boys was domestic bliss, living with Remus and Sirius was marital hell.

“You're drifting.” He whispered and you nodded, setting your cup down.

“Just.. odd is all.” You mumbled and looked down at your thumbs. He pressed his thumb flat against your ankle and tried to persuade you to continue. “Odd?”

“Odd. I know the years I lived as a muggle weren’t real, based on fabricated memories..” You trialed off and looked away. “But finding out those memories weren't real and..” You gestured around. “Learning all that's happened. I'm sure there's more I don't know. I had to learn from an old newspaper what happened to Harry, Moody wouldn't give me specifics.”

You slowly sunk into the pillows and folded your arms over yourself. “And I just.. I missed 12 years. 12 years of my life. I've learned not to be bitter about it, no use to it. But sometimes I'll remember things about people I… I should have known better. Then Harry.” You whispered and covered her face.

Remus leaned forward and reached out to tilt your chin up, his touch gentle and comforting. His deep hazel eyes locked onto yours, filled with understanding and a hint of something more. Something so familiar. Something that once broke you down to your most basic form and shattered your heart. Something you hated to say you longed to see in his eyes again. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, a tension that had been building for some time now. Like the egg shells you walked on when it was just you two the first month were swept away.

“I know it must be overwhelming, to feel like you've missed out on so much,” Remus began, his voice low and soothing. “But you have a chance now, to make new memories, I don't think I've seen Harry so happy. He's reverted to a child, it's amazing to watch.” He chuckled. “And you're not alone in this, I'm here for you, always. Uhm..” He cleared his throat. “Sirius too.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, his proximity sending a rush of warmth through you. Then the guilt sunk in at his last words. Quickly, you looked away from him and took your face from his hands. Right. The reminder of Sirius made your heart ache helplessly in your chest. You closed your eyes with a small sigh before looking back to Remus. The way he looked at you, with such intensity and care, made your heart race in a way you couldn't quite explain. A painful way. A way that showed just how badly you wanted him.

Then, the words from the Shrieking Shack would ring in your ears.

“Ah yes, how could I ever forget my favorite of the furry bunch?” Remus’s words sunk into your mind easily.

“She's yours?” Harry gasped.

“She's mine.” Sirius snapped back before he looked at Lupin.

The guilt settled in quickly. If you were his, why did he act this way? Why did he push you away? Why did he act like you were nothing? Why didn't he give you the ring back?

You looked down at your fidgeting hands and Remus gave a low sigh through his nose. You met his eyes again and he gave you a strained smile, patting your knee. “It's alright.” He mumbled, before he could dismiss himself, the door suddenly rushed open.

“{Y/N}, darling, are you ready?” Sirius’s excitement was cut off when he saw you both. Remus’s hand on your lax knee and practically swallowing your form from where Sirius stood. Both boys clenched their jaws and you shooed Remus off, standing and turning to your wardrobe. “What is it, Sirius?”

“I uhm..” He gathered himself before he shook his head. “Harry, has been invited to the Weasley’s for the World Cup, seems they would like him to head there early.”

The room was thick with tension and you cut through it as if it wasn't there. “I'll be right out. I have to change first.” You spoke to them without turning. Remus slapped his palm to his thigh and sat up. Nodding to Sirius as he passed him, but Sirius never moved.

You turned to him and arched your eyebrow, he crossed his arms and leaned in the doorway. “Its nothing I haven't acquainted myself with.” He mused nonchalantly, slowly smirking. “Intimately.”

This bloody bastard, what was he trying to prove here?

You gave a laugh turned scoff and lifted up your left hand, wiggling your ring finger. Sirius frowned and you glanced back at him again. “Out.”

You put on something light, simple for the heat. Your eye caught the snake ear clip the twins had gifted you years ago, looking around the red covered room before you slowly smiled and picked it up. The only Slytherin inspired gift you'd ever received, of course, the twins always saw the houses for what they were. It only made sense they would be the ones to admire that about you.

You and Sirius packed up the car, as Remus went over everything Harry needed to buy this year, making sure he had packed everything.

After a fair bit of goodbyes, you and Harry set off to the Weasley’s. Not after Sirius asking for the thirteenth time if he could tag along. During your ride to the Weasley’s, Harry managed to stay up the entire time. Talking to you about his morning venture into the town with Padfoot.

~~~

When you finally made it to the burrow, it was midday. Molly and who you assumed to be Ginny were sitting outside the house, talking idly. You landed the car a bit away from the house, and from the corner of your eye, you spied how interested Harry seemed to be that the girl was coming to greet him.

Interesting development.

“Boys! Come help {Y/N} with her bags!” You heard Molly shrill and laughed, climbing out of the car and waving off Molly.

“Me and Harry are plenty alright, Molly! It's just his bags for now!” You called over and she tutted, closing the distance between you two. The grass fields brushed against your calves and the sun was practically cooking your skin. Harry grabbed his bags and his owl himself and hurried over to Ginny.

“Harry, why don't you go greet Ron?” You hummed and he nodded, turning to Ginny who stuck her tongue out at him and ran inside. He laughed and hurried after her, making you smile. That was so familiar.

“Oh, now, {Y/N} dear, before you go inside I have some news for you.” Molly fussed as you both walked to the front door. You began to fan yourself with your hand and use your other to block the sun from your eyes.

“Oh please make it quick, it's bloody scorching out here.” You laughed and put your hands on your hips, leaning forward to squint at her. Both of you facing each other outside the cracked front door.

“Well, we have company,” She started, her hands clasped together in front of her. “I don't expect him to be here so soon, honestly I forgot I lettered him, and he certainly didn't tell me he would be coming so soon.” She rambled on and you gave a nervous laugh.

“You have me worried here, Molly.” Before you could continue your thought, you felt something wet and cold against your ear and Molly’s face dropped. You snapped your head around and your eyes locked onto two beady black ones. A bloody Niffler. Pilfering your ear ring!

“No! You put that down!” You shouted and tried to catch the weaseling little thing. It crawled down your entire body in a spiral motion before dashing inside.

“You rotten rodent!” You shouted and ran inside after it, Molly’s cry for your attention falling on deaf ears. You were not going to lose one of your favorite pieces of jewelry to a damned backwards goose. “Get back here!”

You dashed across the house for it, knocking around tables and hitting your hips on protruding corners, before it wiggled its way into the kitchen with squeaks of distress.

You were panting, coming up the the lively open kitchen, grabbing a chair back as you gathered yourself. “Who's ever.. bastard child that is.. I have a few words..” You wheezed, gesturing to the blurry figures in front of you. It seemed the full family was there, talking to someone you thought to be Arthur for a moment.

The murmuring settled down before you rubbed your eyes as spotted the little criminal. You gasped and pointed at it, as it crawled up the leg of the man. The small group, George, Fred, Ron, all stepped aside and watched as you gathered yourself.

Then you heard a laugh.

A laugh you knew better than the owner's voice.

Your face fell and your eyes raised to meet hazy brown ones.

Gideon fucking Prewett.

You took the chance to take him in, still in shock. He was older now, had to be in his late forties, looked it too. His smile was fuller, his eyebrows bushy and his fiery red curls were long enough to frame his bearded face, with speckles of white.

Broad shoulders, if you were allowed to say that, considering his left arm was completely gone, up to his shoulder. He just kept smiling at you, reaching back with his palm out for the Niffler to return it. “Don't steal from your name sake, Vix.” He tutted and you crumbled.

“Gideon-” Your voice broke and he opened his arm. You hurried over and wrapped your arms around his stomach. He chuckled and patted your back, returning the earring to your ear.

“I thought I lost ya, Niffler.” He whispered in your ear and you gave a watery laugh.

“So you replaced me?” You jabbed and he laughed.

“Needed something to annoy me. You and Fabian…” You shook your head and hugged him tighter.

Molly entered the kitchen and smiled fondly at the reunion, before ushering her kids out. The twins complaining as they left. Molly and Gideon shared a nod before he nudged you softly. “So, I assume you have some questions.” He mumbled into your temple, and you nodded.

“And me to answer them?” He chuckled and you nodded again.

“Just.. just a little longer..”

~~~

You found yourself again, at the Weasley’s, having a conversation with a dear old friend.

You both set up in the kitchen, sitting at the table. You were fiddling with your finger and he gave you a patient and loving smile. It seemed he grew calmer as he aged. You could still see that spark of mischief in his eyes, but it was mellowed out, possibly drowned out by the excitement he had when he looked at you.

Your eyes slowly fell to his arm and he gave a small chuckle. “Well, I guess it's time I tell you what's happened, hm?”

“That night, when you apperated?”

He nodded and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I panicked when I heard Fabian scream. It broke my concentration. I was redirected home.”

~~~

The crackle of apparition snapped through the empty room. Not even the moon light slipped into the dark space, as it became more and more clear to him, he wasn't at the ministry.

He heard thundering footsteps hurry up the stairs, he was growing foggy. The door slammed open and he slowly looked over, his eyes locking with Mary’s. She was smiling, holding up her status reports he had tasked her with before he left with his brother merely an hour ago.

Her face slowly fell as her eyes widened in horror at what she was faced with. Gideon Prewett, sprawled out across a broken desk, with a brutal twist to his arm that she could practically feel. Slowly, he grimaced and tried to stand up, only for all the pain the adrenaline had kept at bay to come rushing forward.

He let out a pained wail, much like his brother’s, and fell forward. His mind was still not clear, but he saw Mary. The only person he could protect at the moment. From what? He didn't know, but she was within reach. The sounds of papers falling to the ground and heels against his wooden floor filled his ears as Mary ran over to him and put her hand to his chest. Lifting him back up as he wrapped his good arm around her shoulder. Clinging to her arm with a rough grip that made her wince. “Boss-”

“We need… we need ditany.” He spoke carefully and through his grinding molars. She quickly tried to pull away but his grip tightened on her. Suddenly, the idea of his own apprentice leaving him, with you and Fabian’s status unknown, was far more terrifying than he would like to admit. Mary looked at his hand and quickly looked around the office. She took her free hand and lifted her wand to the roof, commanding her patronus forward.

Her glowing brown bear manifested before her, as Mary felt her throat tighten as her eyes grew wet watching Gideon slipped in and out of consciousness. She had no choice, she knew, even with all the pain he had caused her in their youth, she couldn't lose her Prewett. “Take this message to Snape..”

Gideon slowly faded away, loosening his grip on her shoulder and falling limp against the shredded wood and scattered parchment, the last thing he could recall was her patronus running off into the curtained windows, the very blinds she soon opened when he lost his grip.

He woke up an hour later, in his bed. He winced, a muted and groggy pain filled him. The tense and rocking pain was something he was used to, his muscles tightening and his blood rushing, paired with a splitting and deep sting. Without that sting, he felt off, like the pain was just around the corner, waiting to bite back.

He could feel something in his hand. Gripping a bit tighter the numbing buzz was pushed aside and he was able to feel the familiar warmth of another hand in his own. He turned his head and blinked away his grogginess, seeing Mary staring at him with so much worry and care. He gave her the sweetest smile he could muster but it only worked to break what little resolve she had.

He rubbed his thumb over her smaller hand, and she leaned forward from her chair to press her head to his knuckles. Like she could process that he was alive, but the fear of losing him was so great that him smiling at her could only show her what would have been lost.

“I'm alright, grizzly.” He croaked and she shook her head, sniffling as she dried her cheeks.

“Dumbledore went to retrieve them..” She whispered and he was snapped out of his mind and shoved back into reality. He tried to sit up, but his left arm didn't quite respond and with Mary clinging to his right hand he could only lay back. He looked across the room and noticed Snape’s slight wince and his drifting eyes.

“What's happened?” Gideon commanded across the room and Severus avoided his eyes. He tried again to lift himself but Mary tightened her grip, pressing him closer as she began to cry. His face fell and a dread filled his chest.

“What's happened to them?” He croaked out, his turn to try and hold back a sob. He knew the moment Mary began to let her sobs wrack her body. The way she held his hand let him feel the warm tears that wet her face. He knew they were gone.

He let his head fall against the pillow and he stared up at the ceiling. He tried to stay stoic, only for his grip on Mary to once again tighten as he sniffled, letting out a sob, crying out. Mary quickly let go of his hand and looked down at him, only for him to wrap his arm around her back and pull her full weight against him. It was grounding and she was quick to hug him, letting him sob into her shoulder.

She was all he had left and he didn't plan to leave her behind.

~~~

“When I left for America, I took her with me.” Gideon mused and took a sip of his tea that Molly had hurried over to make. Your eyes widened and your jaw went slack. A million questions passed through your mind at once, but one took president over everything else.

“Mary? Mary is alive?” You pushed and he grimaced a bit.

“She is. She sends her love but..” He rubbed his neck and bit his cheek, trying his best to gather himself. “This place, it's painful for her. Even with you home, she doesn't want to face this.”

You nodded and furrowed your brow at your hands. Giving a low huff. “Not that I ever had the choice.”

“Given it, would you have come back?” He pushed. “She's built a life out there. I have too. You can't blame her for choosing her peace.”

You clicked your tongue before slowly nodding and leaning back in your seat. Trying to think back on everything you had been told, before you winced a bit. “Madeye. He said she was attacked, that they found her at our hideout.”

“She was hurt. But alive.” He reassured and took a steady breath. “I was out of commision and Remus couldn't face it. Mary went to retrieve what she could from your safe house. Her clothes, her research, her gear. I had offered her Fabian's room until she could join me in America.”

You began to pick at your nails and slowly looked up. Your voice crackles a bit. “And?”

“Mulciber was there. Mary told me bits and pieces of what's happened but.. it seems she's blocked a lot of it out. Says it was similar to what happened back in her school years, she hardly managed to hold on. Then Remus found her and..” He sighed through his nose. “The boy was already rattled by what was going on, sent her to St. Mungos and then she came to live with me.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. You remembered what had happened to Mary in your seventh year, you didn't happen to see it but you remembered the night terrors and the bits she told you in your shared dorm. You always thought it was unfair, Mary was such a sweet girl, quiet and reserved, but she was brave to a fault. When she told you she defended a first year muggle born you already knew it would end poorly. She was alone, she was scared, and what happened to her terrified you.

You were sure that night is what made her change her profession choice. She wanted to protect people, be able to protect herself if that ever happened again. She said she wanted to be strong, like you.

It made you wonder how differently she would see you if she knew the truth. Yes, you could fight, yes, you were strong, but that meant nothing if every time you were faced with significant danger you folded in on yourself.

“Where have you gone?” Gideon called over to you and you snapped out of your trance.

“Sorry just.. a lot on my mind.” You admitted and looked down at your own tea cup. “Are you going back to America after this?”

“As much as I'm sure you'd love to get rid of me.” He mused and shooed his Niffler away from his spoon. “I am here to help with the tournament this year.”

“Really?” You huffed with wide eyes, straightening your back. “Do they really need all three of us? I thought it was excessive that they wanted me to come along with Moody.” You huffed and he chuckled.

“Well, he's getting old.” Gideon mused. “Also said we'd be a great help to the defense against the dark arts class.”

“You are an awful teacher.” You deadpanned and he gave a playfully horrified gasp.

“Mary seemed to catch on quick.”

“Mary is as smart as a whip.” You challenged and he scoffed. You slowly found yourself smiling before you looked down again. “We should start heading there now. Don't want to give Moody any more of a reason to be upset with me.”

“Upset?” He parroted.

“Yeah… turns out, if you don't want to be on Moody's bad side, don't run off with a wanted criminal to confront a dead man.” You waved your hands about. “And definitely don't get caught with a lycanthrope on a full moon.”

You looked back up at Gideon after a moment of silence and couldn't help but laugh at his shocked and scandalized look.

“You what!?”

You stood up and rang your hands together. “Do you have your bags? I'll tell you on the way to Hogwarts.”

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