#her tone completely shifts here too and her eyes start shifting and blinking

[moghedien]

I do have a question

Was this an actual genuine reaction from Mierin Eronaile or what?

[sturnioz]

the fraternity formal is this weekend, and shy!reader is completely oblivious to what's going on until her friend breaks the news to her.

"i'm gonna be gone next weekend, kid," chris announces to you suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet stillness of the room, and you shift slightly, moving your head to get a better look at him. he's sprawled beside you, his eyes glued to his phone, thumb scrolling through his instagram feed. "s'you don't have to come here."

the blankets cling to your glistening bare skin as you turn to face him fully, curiosity sparking within you. "how come?" you ask, your tone light but filled with genuine interest.

the sharpness of his gaze meets yours, a familiar hint of annoyance that signals you're being too nosy in his life and you frown slightly.

"you brought it up... m'just curious."

chris rolls his tongue across his teeth, a habit of his when he's trying to brush off a question as he returns his focus to his phone, scrolling mindlessly. "just some stupid fuckin' frat thing."

you ponder this, pursing your lips as you consider his words. "why are you going if you think it's stupid?"

"it's mandatory, kid. the frat will have my ass if i don't go." chris' tone is almost defensive, as if he expects you to understand. you really don't, but you choose not to press the issue any further.

instead, your mind wanders to the idea of a free weekend — one without parties, and drunken and high people. the thought makes you smile to yourself, already imagining the little things you could enjoy in the comfort of your own space and time.

chris seems to sense your silence and shifts his gaze to you, his eyebrow raising as he drops his phone onto the bedside table with a soft thud. "y'gonna miss me, kid?"

the question pulls you from your thoughts, and you blink, suddenly aware of the intensity in his eyes as he pushes himself up, moving to kneel between your legs, the warmth of his body pressing against yours.

his hands find your thighs, his fingers gripping the soft flesh as a smirk slides across his lips. he leans in closer, tilting his head to the side, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin as one hand glides down between your legs, his thumb pressing down on your already sensitive clit, making you jolt.

"she gonna miss me, bun?"

"chris.." you whisper softly, feeling your stomach flutter as your pulse quickens, your mouth parting with a gasp as he rubs slow, deliberate circles over your clit.

"yeah... she's gonna miss me."

for the next few days, thoughts of him going away next weekend slip from your mind. it makes sense, after all — it's not your business, and you're not particularly interested in anything fraternity-related.

but signs of what's to come should've started creeping in when you walked across campus one afternoon, the giggles and babbles of excitement from sorority girls echoing in the air as they boast about a wild weekend filled with parties, pretty dressed, alcohol, drugs, and sex.

the suspicion should've resurfaced again when you were out with kitty and nick, overhearing kitty mention a sleek black silk dress she wanted to buy for the weekend. (truthfully, you were just glad to be spending time with them to even think about what the weekend was about).

and before you could even question her about the reasoning why, nick was already letting out a dramatic scream, having accidentally spilled water all over his pants. he raised his sandal foot towards kitty's face that's drenched in water, showing her the disaster he created and she shrieked, shoving his foot away in horror as she exclaims about how vile feet were — making you giggle and completely forget about any lingering questions about the weekend.

you're now sitting at the kitchen table in your shared apartment, blissfully absorbed in your breakfast. the spoon clicks against the bowl as you scoop up creamy yoghurt and berries, savouring each bite without a care in the world. your friend, however, is a whirlwind of energy, darting back and forth as she huffs and puffs, searching desperately for something.

you only notice her dilemma when a loud curse escapes her lips as she trips over her own feet, stumbling slightly, and you raise your head from your bowl with a startled look, your eyebrows knitting together in concern.

"what are you doing?" you ask, your voice laced with curiosity.

"i'm trying to find my dress—the silk red one with the thin straps. have you seen it?" she exclaims, her tone a mix of urgency and frustration.

you shake your head in response, watching as her shoulders drop with a heavy and defeated sigh.

"fine, alright. guess the blue will have to do. fuck..." she then turns her gaze to you. "i don't know how you're so calm about this. have you already picked out your dress?"

now that immediately catches your attention, and you stare at her, confusion washing over your face. "for what?"

"for the weekend! we're literally leaving tomorrow," she laughs, but the humour fades into awkward laughing when she sees your blank expression. "the fraternity formal," she adds, her eyes narrowing slightly as if that should clarify everything.

you feel a knot in your stomach, "what fraternity formal?"

suddenly, her laughter completely dies down, and she stares at you, disbelief etched on her features, "did... chris not tell you about it?

the weight of her question hangs in the air, and a sinking feeling settles in your chest as the reality starts to dawn on you. chris hadn't mentioned anything about a formal, but he did say he was going away for the weekend. your mind races through the past few days, replaying snippets of conversations — how he brushed off your questions about his plans, the overhead chatter of sorority girls giggling about the weekend, and kitty wanting to buy a new dress.

all those vague hints about the weekend swirl together, forming the final picture.

"no," you murmur, the word heavy on your tongue. "no, he didn't say anything about a formal."

your friend calls out your name softly, a frown settling on her lips as she watches you turn to your breakfast. your appetite has gone, but you fight the urge to let the emotions knotting in your stomach to take over as you mindlessly swirl your spoon through the yoghurt, focussing on the movement as if it would distract you from the growing unease.

"i won't go," she declares quickly, sliding into the chair beside you at the table. "fuck the formal. i'll stay here with you, and we can—"

"stop.." you cut her off gently, shaking your head. "don't do that. it's okay.. nate invited you, right?"

"i.. yeah, but—"

"then go," you insist, a sad smile breaking through as your throat tightens. "i know he would really want you there."

there's a bittersweet ache in your chest as you speak, the words feeling heavier than they should. you genuinely want her to enjoy herself, even if it means facing a weekend that suddenly feels much more complicated.

she studies your face, searching for any hint of reluctance or sadness, but you try your best to remain a steady expression despite the thought of chris, the formal—of everything left unsaid—looms in your mind.

"are you sure?" she asks, her voice softening, concern flickering in her eyes. "because i will stay.."

"yeah," you reply, your voice steadier than you feel. "yeah, i'm sure. just... go and have fun. you'll enjoy it."

authors note. i will make a part two eventually before you ask <3

© STURNIOZ

[creamflix]

gojo satoru x reader; no reader gender implied. established relationship. angst, minimal comfort. gojo's childish and lowkey a guilt tripper — masterlist here ☆

cooking with satoru was something you cherished.

it was playful, light, and full of laughter — the kind of moments that filled your heart and reassured you of the life you were building together. he’d sneak bites of sugar, swipe a spoonful of whipped cream, and act like a child in the best ways, making you laugh until your stomach hurt. so when you decided to make mochi for him, something new, something special, you had that familiar warmth in your chest, eager to see his reaction.

as you set the finished mochi in front of him, he perked up, curiosity lighting up his face. he took a bite, humming in appreciation, but then his expression shifted into something… nostalgic.

“ya know, an ex of mine used to make mochi just like this,” he said, almost absently. there was a smile in his voice, the kind that meant he was remembering something fondly.

your heart dropped.

you didn’t know much about satoru’s past relationships. he’d always brushed them off, calling them trivial, unimportant, saying he didn’t want you thinking about them because you were his present and his future.

but hearing him reminisce about this now, his voice soft, that slight faraway look in his eyes — it was like watching him slip into a part of his life you couldn’t touch.

“oh?” you managed, forcing a small smile, trying to keep your voice light. “did she make it like this?”

he shrugged, casually nodding. “pretty close! she had this way of makin’ it fluffy, and it was perfect every time. she’d always get so proud whenever i said i loved it.” he chuckled, taking another bite.

“guess you can’t beat a classic.”

the words stung.

you could feel them sinking in, twisting around every little insecurity you’d ever buried. the mochi that you’d poured effort into, hoping to surprise him, suddenly felt like a cheap imitation.

can’t beat a classic — as if she’d set the bar that you were just falling short of.

“do you… miss her?” you asked, voice barely a whisper, not even sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

he looked up, brow furrowing slightly, as if he couldn’t understand why you’d ask. “nah,” he said with a shrug, his tone dismissive. “she’s the past, y’know? ion keep up with stuff like that.”

you tried to nod, to smile, but the ache in your chest only deepened. “but… it seems like you remember a lot about her.”

he gave a short laugh, carefree, completely missing the weight of your words. “well, i mean, she made good mochi! can’t really forget that, right?” he took another bite, oblivious, as if he hadn’t just peeled back something raw in you.

your fingers tightened around the edge of the counter, struggling to keep your composure.

why couldn’t he see how much this hurt? you were standing right here, offering him something that you’d made with care, something meant just for him, and all he could talk about was someone else’s version.

“satoru…” you started, your voice catching. “i wanted this to be ours, you know? not… not just something that reminds you of her.”

he looked at you, blinking as if he didn’t quite understand why this was a big deal. “babe, you’re overthinking it. it’s just mochi.”

but it wasn’t just mochi.

it was the effort you’d put in, the way you’d hoped to make him feel loved, to build something unique between you two.

and instead, he’d brought someone else into this space, someone whose shadow you didn’t want hanging over you.

“it’s not just mochi to me,” you said, your voice breaking despite yourself. “i just… i wanted this to be special for us. but it feels like i’m just reminding you of someone else, someone i can’t… someone i can’t replace.”

he laughed again, an airy, dismissive sound. “come onnn, you’re taking this way too seriously.” he reached over, ruffling your hair in that teasing way of his, as if you were being silly, blowing this all out of proportion.

“you’re the one here with me, aren’t you? don’t worry about it so much.”

but his words were just empty air, failing to fill the growing hollow in your chest.

he wasn’t seeing it, wasn’t hearing the pain underneath your words, the way this had cut deeper than he realized.

to him, it was nothing, a forgotten past with no meaning, but to you, it was a reminder that you were still living in someone else’s shadow, always trying to measure up to memories that felt untouchable.

as he went back to eating, laughing over something trivial, your heart ached with the words left unspoken, with the hope that someday he’d understand without you having to break yourself to make him see.

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[courtofcravings]

Everyone Knew (2)

Cassian x Reader

After realizing you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, a night out at the bar takes an unexpected turn when unresolved feelings become the topic of the night.

Mutual pinning, Slight angst, Fluff Warnings: Drinking, border line nswf (but only make out) Completed Series - Read part 1 here

The cold night air hit your face as soon as you stepped outside, biting at your skin, but you didn’t care. You slid down against the brick wall, your legs giving way as you collapsed onto the ground. Tears pricked at the back of your eyes, but you forced them down. The burn of his lips still lingered on your skin, refusing to fade, even in the frosty night air.

“Y/N? I thought it was you walking outside. Where’s Cass?” Rhysand’s voice cut through the air above you. You hadn’t even realized the highlord was here tonight. A wave of mortification hit you, and you wondered if he’d noticed what you’d just been up to with his commander.

“Didn’t think there was a chance he was peeling off you,” he added, his tone teasing but laced with curiosity.  That answers that, you thought bitterly.

“He’s inside,” you murmured, your voice shaky. “I’m just… getting some air.” You tried to sound unaffected, but the words wavered.

You hoped Rhysand hadn’t noticed, but the sound of footsteps and rustling clothes told you he was lowering himself beside you.

“Rhys, I’m not in the right mind for a conversation,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re upset. I get it,” Rhysand replied, his voice gentle, yet filled with an understanding you hadn’t expected. “I mean, I don’t. Not from your perspective.” he added.

“Please, do take a seat.” You sarcastically mumbled.

“Feyre was pissed too. Rightfully so, after I kept it from her,” Rhysand said, leaning back against the wall. A small, reminiscent smile tugged at his lips, as though recalling an old memory. “It was terrifying. Days—literal days—of her refusing to even acknowledge my existence.”

You blinked, brows knitting in confusion as you tried to process his words. What was he talking about?

“She forgave me in the end.” Rhysand shrugged, brushing a hand casually through his dark hair. “It helped that she was already in love with me. Harder to stay mad at someone when you’re halfway gone for them.”

“Feyre…?” you echoed slowly, trying to piece together what he was saying. “Wait wha—”

“We all knew, for a while now. I hope you aren’t too mad at us. We did tell him he had to tell you everything—I mean he saw the reaction Feyre had firsthand. He really has no one to blame but himself, considering how many years he knew and kept it from—”

“Years—Rhys, what are you talking about?” You cut him off, your voice sharp and laced with unease. The words hung in the air, your heart hammering as you waited—hoped—for him to start making sense.

Rhysand blinked, his expression shifting as realization dawned. Slowly, his hand flew to his mouth, eyes widening. “Have you… have you not talked to Cassian yet?”

Before you could respond, the door beside Rhys flew open with a sudden burst, slamming against the wall.

“Y/n!?” Cassian’s voice rang out, rough and hurried. He stumbled out of the building, his eyes scanning frantically—searching—until they landed on you.

“Rhys, scram. Now.”

The High Lord didn’t need to be told twice. With a muttered grumble about manners and bastard brothers, Rhys was on his feet and disappearing through the door, leaving the two of you alone. Under any other circumstances, you might have laughed. But there was no humor to be found—not with the sheer anger burning in Cassian’s eyes.

“I’d like to be alone,” you stated, darting your eyes away from him.

“You promised,” Cassian shot back, his tone rough but pleading. “You promised you’d stop running from me.” His wings flared out behind him, broad and imposing, casting a shadow over you as he moved closer.

“That’s not what I promised,” you countered, your words shaky but defiant.

“Then tell me what’s bothering you. Tell me what made you—” He paused, his voice faltering like the words had caught in his throat. And suddenly, the anger was gone, replaced by something far more raw.

Cassian sank to his knees in front of you, his towering form shrinking as he looked up, the vulnerability in his gaze hitting you harder than any words could. His hands hovered uncertainly, like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare.

“You promised,” he whispered this time, softer, like he wasn’t sure you’d keep your word. And it made your heart ache, because this—this—was Cassian laid bare, desperate and unguarded in a way you’d never seen before. 

Throwing your head back against the wall, a heavy sigh escaped your lips. “I couldn’t go any further, Cass.”

“Why?” he pushed softly, hesitating before placing both hands on your bare knees. His warmth seeped through your skin, though the gesture was cautious—like he feared you might pull away. “Cauldron, you’re freezing,” he grumbled, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your legs as though trying to coax the cold away. “Azriel and Nesta stopped me inside. Didn’t realize how long they’d kept me.”

“I’m fine. Really.” The words felt hollow, unconvincing even to you. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to swat his hands away—not when your body, traitorous as ever, still craved his touch.

“Tell me why you ran, Y/n.” Cassian urged again, heavy with concern.

“Why?” you echoed. Your thoughts swirled in chaotic loops. Cassian’s hands tightened, just slightly, his grip grounding yet gentle, anchoring you in place without holding you captive.

“You might be interested in a fun night, Cass, but I don’t think I can ever go back if we—” Your voice faltered, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “Cauldron, I’m already going to be thinking about your lips on me for days, and we haven’t even kissed. How am I supposed to go back to just being your friend? This is your problem. You never think–”

“And you never shut up,” he interrupted.

“Excuse me?” you shot back, your head jerking up to glare at him.

“It’s like your mind never stops,” he said softly, his gaze unwavering as he leaned closer. “Always racing with thoughts, but it never occurred to you that I might not want to go back, either?”

His words paralysed you. The air between you stilled, thick with tension. The usual playfulness in his eyes was replaced by something else—something raw.

“Don’t tease me,” you whispered. You pulled your knees closer to your chest, trying to create some distance between you, a barrier you desperately needed.

His hands fell from your knees to his sides as he stood, frustration radiating from him. “Y/n,” he whined, dragging his hands over his face. “What kind of person do you take me for? Some disrespectful ass? Is that how you’ve seen me all these years?”

“Of course not!” you snapped, your confusion rising to meet his anger. “I never said that–”

“But clearly you think it,” he shot back, his voice rising as his hands flew up in exasperation.

“Clearly, I think the world of you!” You stood abruptly, stomping your foot against the ground in sheer frustration. “You hear that I—I love you, and somehow you twist that into me thinking negatively of you? This is exactly what I mean! You don’t—”

“And you still aren’t listening to me!” Cassian roared, the shout taking you by surprise, leaving you stunned into silence. Cassian had never shouted at you, not like this. “It’s like you’re being purposefully naive!” he bit out, his hands raking through his hair, gripping so hard you thought he might tear at it.

“Naive!?” you snapped, disbelief coloring your voice.

“Yes, naive!” Cassian’s voice was sharp as he stepped closer. “You get so caught up in your own damned worries, and normally—I think it’s cute watching you overthink the smallest things. But Cauldron above, this?” He shook his head, his voice hoarse with emotion. “This is hurtful.”

The words hit you like a slap, but Cassian wasn’t finished. He took another step forward, closing the space between you to mere breaths. “I’ve been in love with you for so long now, I can hardly remember a time when I wasn’t.”

“What?” Your breath caught in your chest, your heart lurching violently.

But Cassian didn’t seem to hear you, too lost in the storm of his own emotions. “I’ve tried everything. Flowers, gifts, flirting…” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

Your mind reeled. The gifts—books perfectly suited to your tastes, plants he’d brought you decorated your room with, weapons he’d selected with such care for you to use in battle.

All things you’d thought were gestures of friendship, acts of platonic love. The flirting you had brushed off as lighthearted banter, that he never truly meant in any way that mattered.

“Cass—I didn’t realize th—” you stammered, but he wasn’t listening, his frustration boiling over.

“I don’t want to go back!” His voice thundered, the rawness of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. “I don’t want to pretend I didn’t hear you say the exact words I’ve been feeling for years. I don’t want to pretend I don’t love you—fuck, Y/n!”

He slammed his hand into the wall beside your head. Not to scare you—you knew that instinctively. It was as if he needed the wall to keep himself upright, as if the weight of his confession was too much to bear. 

“You’re my mate—” His voice dropped to a soft whisper, the crack in it breaking something inside you. “I–I don’t want to pretend we’re just friends anymore.”

Your eyes widened. The words he’d spoken repeating in a loop in your head: You’re my mate.

“And if you want to reject me. I would endure that for you.” Cassian took a shaky breath, his voice now quieter, but no less intense. “But stop acting for one damn minute like there’s a version of me that could ever not love you. That could ever go back to waiting for you to love me as I do you.”

“Cassian,” you whispered, barely able to form the question. “Mates?”

Everything clicked. It wasn’t just the deep love you’d always felt for him, but the connection. The bond, the pull, the certainty that surged inside you when he spoke. Everything he’d said, everything you’d felt, suddenly made sense. “You’re my mate.”

Cassian cursed under his breath, pacing away for a moment, clearly trying to regain his composure. “I wasn’t supposed to—damn it,” he mumbled, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Wasn’t supposed to tell you like this.”

You blinked, your mind still spinning through memories and conversations. “Earlier, you mocked me… about everyone knowing.” you said, barely above a whisper, yet stern.

Cassian’s eyes softened, his gaze shifting to something vulnerable. “Everyone knew,” he confirmed, his voice almost childlike, as though he was bracing himself for a reprimand. He winced, “Except you.”

The words Rhysand had said to you earlier echoed in your mind: We all knew, for a while now. 

“Rhysand said you’ve known for years,” you continued, your emotions swirling in conflicting directions—anger, confusion, and something else you couldn’t quite name. “Years, Cassian?”

He flinched, eyes flashing with something dark. “He told you?” he sneered, the edge of his voice sharp.

“Well, you obviously weren’t going to,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. “He didn’t actually tell me—he thought you already had. I didn’t understand the meaning of his words until now.”

“I was hoping you’d feel it,” he admitted, his voice soft, almost defeated. “Something, at least. For me.”

In that moment, the truth settled over you—You weren’t angry with Cassian. You couldn’t be, not when the feelings you had tried so hard to deny were so much the same as his. Not when you realized just how deeply he had always felt for you, how much of himself he had given, even if it wasn’t always clear to you. 

His words, his actions—all of it now made sense, the gifts, the teasing, the way he had always been there for you. The pieces clicked into place, revealing a truth that you had been blind to, unwilling to see.

“You coward,” you teased, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. But Cassian didn’t seem to notice the lightness in your tone. His eyes remained shut, refusing to meet yours, his posture stiff with tension, as if he was still waiting for further reprimand from you.

You shifted closer, your fingers brushing gently against the solid muscle of his chest. You felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm, and the sensation sent a thrill racing through you. The bond between you two seemed to hum quietly beneath your skin, a quiet pulse.

“A bit of a hypocrite?” he muttered, his voice rough as he took your hand in his, rubbing it gently like he couldn’t quite control his touch.

You tilted your head, catching his eye for a moment. “Oh? Says the one who made me promise not to keep things like this from him?”

He sighed, the weight of his exhaustion settling into his shoulders, his wings drooping behind him as though the very air had become too heavy to bear. His voice, when it came, was softer than you expected, soaked in regret. “I couldn’t bear you avoiding me.” The ache in his tone twisted something deep inside you. 

You reached out, your fingers brushing gently against his chin, guiding his face toward you with a tenderness that belied the ache in your chest. He hesitated, but after a long beat, his eyes fluttered open—hazel depths flooded with longing, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart stutter in your chest.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Cass…”

“I don’t want to go back, Y/n.” He leaned into your touch, his presence overwhelming, the space between you shrinking until his breath brushed against your lips. His eyes held yours, unflinching, as though they were a silent promise. “I meant what I said,” 

“Every touch, every look, every word tonight… None of it was a joke to me. I’ve wanted this—you—for so long.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “So if you think I’ll pretend I didn’t hear…” He paused, his lips curving into a small but dangerous smile. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

Warmth flooded your cheeks, the coldness of the night melting away. The closeness of his face, the way his presence filled every corner of the space between you, made the air feel electric. Your skin seemed to remember the feeling of his mouth on your neck, the heat of his touch. How there was no barrier left. 

“You didn’t try everything,” you whispered, your voice low, teasing as your hands trailed over his chest, savoring the feel of his body beneath your fingertips, a shiver of excitement coursing through you at the contact.

“W–What?” His voice cracked, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the reaction, savoring the way he struggled to form words. His hands slid around your waist, fingers slipping under the hem of your cropped shirt, tracing slow, teasing circles against your skin.

“The gifts, the flirting…” you murmured, almost breathless as your hands slid up to his shoulders. You pulled him closer, enough to feel the heat of his body press against yours. “If you were too much of a coward to tell me—”

“Would you stop calling me—” Cassian’s words faltered when you leaned in, lips brushing over the sensitive crook of his neck, just beneath his jaw. You felt the shudder that ran through his body as you trailed a warm kiss across the skin, his hands tightening around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His breath hitched as his chest rose and fell with a deeper rhythm.

You kissed your way slowly across his neck, feeling the rapid beat of his pulse beneath your lips. As your lips neared his, you could feel him tilt his head, instinctively trying to meet you. But just before your mouths collided, you pulled away, lips hovering just over his. “You could’ve tried showing me,” you whispered, voice low and teasing, your breath warm against his.

A mischievous grin tugged at the corner of Cassian’s lips, his eyes darting between yours and your lips, flickering with hunger. He licked his lips, and the question slipped out of him, coated in desire. “And how would I have gone about that?”

“You could’ve pulled me against you,” you said, your tone slow, deliberate, laced with a challenge that dared him to follow through.

Cassian’s hands moved from your waist, gliding down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly with a strength that made your breath catch. Your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pinned you against the wall.

“And then?” he murmured, his voice thick with anticipation, his lips only an inch away from yours, the heat of his breath mingling with yours.

“And then,” you whispered, your lips grazing over his as you leaned in just enough to tease. “You could’ve done this.” Without waiting another second, you closed the gap, pressing your mouth to his with a force that took his breath away. 

The kiss was desperate, hungry, a collision of heat and need. Teeth clashed, tongues tangled as you both dove deeper into the kiss, the world outside vanishing as you lost yourselves in the raw intensity. You both fought for more, each movement desperate, as if nothing could ever feel close enough.

“I vaguely remember trying something like this,” he murmured between heated kisses.

You let out a soft giggle, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, your lungs racing as your forehead rested against his cheek. “I thought you were trying not to waste the perfectly good shot you spilled on me?” you teased.

Cassian nipped at your lips in response, before his teeth swiftly moved to grazing over the delicate skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “I think I missed some,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. His lips sucked and nibbled at the spot like he had before, and the teasing motion made you laugh softly, but that quickly turned into a low moan.

“Cassian...” You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging gently to shift his head away, trying to catch your breath. He groaned in protest, hardly pulling back.

You slid down from his legs, standing tall and proud before him.

“You’re killing me here, Y/n,” he said with swollen lips, his eyes glazed with need. The sight of him like this made your heart race faster. Your hands slid from his hair to cup his face, gently holding him as you stared into his eyes.

“I love you, Cassian,” you said softly, your smile wide and genuine, the words flowing naturally. You wanted him to hear it, in this moment, without heat of an arguement. “So fucking much.”

Cassian closed his eyes for a moment, his breath shaky as he leaned into your touch. “Tell me again,” he whispered, his leg shifting between yours, pinning himself against you.

“I love you, Cassian. My mate,” you whispered, the words carrying more weight than ever, like you were sealing a promise in the air between you.

His lips crashed back onto yours, the kiss deepening as he tugged you even closer. In between the kisses, he pulled away just long enough to demand, “Again.”

“I love—” you tried, but he was relentless, kissing you harder, his lips never straying far as he muttered again over and over. You laughed softly, surrendering to the moment, and said it one more time.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

He pulled away just enough to smile, a soft, adoring expression on his face. “My beautiful mate,” he murmured, his voice filled with nothing but affection as he stared at you, his eyes alight with something deeper than desire—something eternal.

With a grin, Cassian picked you up effortlessly, your arms instinctively wrapping around his broad shoulders as he lifted you without a second thought.

“Hey!” you protested, though your heart raced with excitement, the rush of adrenaline making your pulse quicken.

“I’d like to continue this... without clothes,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Preferably in a bed,” He said before he nipped playfully at your ear before pressing a lingering, slow kiss to the pulse point on your neck. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver down your spine. “Unless you want to go back inside for your girls night?”

You opened your mouth to argue, to bring up the people waiting back inside, but the words were caught in your throat as Cassian’s wings suddenly flared out, strong and powerful, lifting both of you into the air.

“I’m tired of them knowing everything,” he muttered.

Your arms tightened around his neck as you let out a breathless laugh, feeling the cool night air rush around you. Higher and higher, the ground falling away as Cassian swept you off into the night.

[daisymbin]

Hey can i request one where the reader sends Joshua flowers every week when he’s having practice/rehearsals and he asks her

37. "you brought me flowers? just because?" 🥹

omg this is so cute 🥺

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list

fluff prompt #37: "you brought me flowers? just because?"

the flowers always came at the same time every week for the past 4 months. like clockwork, they arrived at 11am, brightening the practice room with their soft colors and subtle fragrances.

and every week, joshua’s face lit up as he accepted the bouquet, placing it gently on the counter. he never questioned who sent them—he didn’t want to ruin the magic of it. all he knew was that those flowers had become a highlight of his week, a small moment of beauty in the chaos of rehearsals.

but today, there was no delivery.

the clock ticked past 11, and no knock came at the door.

joshua tried not to show his disappointment, but jeonghan noticed immediately.

“no flowers today?” jeonghan asked, his tone half-teasing, half-curious.

joshua shrugged, fiddling with his water bottle. “i guess not.”

jeonghan smirked. “don’t look so sad, shua. maybe your admirer finally gave up.”

“they’re not my admirer,” joshua muttered, though his chest tightened at the thought.

by 12:30pm, he’d resigned himself to the fact that the flowers weren’t coming. maybe this little tradition had ended without warning. maybe he’d never know why it had started in the first place, or who sent them.

but then the door creaked open timidly at 12:42pm,

you stepped inside, a bouquet of daisies and lavender in your hands as well as some take out bags and joshua freezes.

“y/n?” he said, blinking in disbelief. “what are you doing here?”

“sorry i’m late,” you said, offering an apologetic smile. “the florist didn’t have any delivery slots this week, so… i figured i’d bring them myself. oh! and lunch! you guys haven't eaten right?"

jeonghan raised an eyebrow, watching the scene unfold like it was his favorite drama. he notes the way you're nervous, your hands slightly trembling. the mask of nonchalance on your face did little to hide it all.

joshua stood up, slowly making his way toward you. “you’re the one who’s been sending me flowers?”

you nodded, holding out the bouquet. “guilty.”

he took them from you carefully, as if they might disappear if he wasn’t gentle enough. “you’ve been doing this every week?”

“yeah,” you said, shifting on your feet. “i thought you might like them.”

he stared at you, his expression unreadable. “but… why?”

you hesitated, suddenly feeling very self-conscious under his gaze. “just because.”

his lips parted slightly, his eyes searching yours. “you brought me flowers? just because?”

“yeah,” you said quietly, your cheeks warming. “just because. and… because they make you happy.”

for a moment, the room was completely silent.

then jeonghan let out a low whistle, breaking the spell. “wow. who would've thought…”

joshua barely heard him. he was too busy staring at you, his heart racing in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

“thank you,” he said softly, his voice almost trembling.

you smiled, trying to play it off like your heart wasn’t doing flips in your chest. “it’s no big deal.”

“it is to me,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours.

jeonghan cleared his throat loudly, "so... lunch you said?" and you took that as your cue to leave.

“oh! yes, lunch. here," you laid the take out bags down, "well, i should go, dont wanna intrude,” you said, stepping back toward the door. “i’ll see you later, joshua.”

he watched you leave, the bouquet still clutched in his hands, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

as soon as the door closed behind you, jeonghan turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “so… are the flowers enough confirmation for you to finally confess, or do you need her to spell it out in neon lights?”

joshua blinked, his mind still replaying your shy smile and the way your voice softened when you said, “just because.”

“she doesn’t…” he started, then trailed off.

jeonghan rolled his eyes. “oh, please. she sends you flowers every week, and today she personally brought them because she wanted to make sure you still got them. & LUNCH! if that’s not a big neon sign saying ‘i like you,’ i don’t know what is.”

“but what if—”

“nope,” jeonghan cut him off. “no what-ifs. no overthinking. she likes you, shua. it’s obvious.”

joshua glanced down at the bouquet in his hands, his heart swelling with something warm and hopeful.

maybe… maybe jeonghan was right.

maybe it was time to stop waiting.

[n0vazsq]

Anything for you | Hector Fort x Reader

pairing . . . hector fort x gf!reader

summary . . . Asking Hector if he would kiss his ex to save your life turns into something much more heated than what you expected

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.6k+

warnings . . . kissing so fucking much

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . DIED writing this. literally started blushing anf got butterflies. ITS MY OWN WRTIING??? talk about narcissus no.2

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @ann6ella ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . You leaned back against the couch, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. You had to know, just had to know, what Hector would say to a question like this.

You casually tossed the question his way, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Would you kiss your ex to save my life?"

Hector froze, his brows furrowing as his gaze shifted to the side, clearly trying to process the question. He blinked a few times, almost like he was testing the words in his mind, as if trying to figure out if he’d heard you right.

"What kind of question is that?" Hector finally said, his voice thick with confusion and a hint of concern. "Why would you even ask me that?"

You couldn’t help but smile, watching his reaction as he mentally scrambled to find an answer. He leaned forward, eyes flicking back to you, but there was an almost comically anxious expression on his face.

You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, as though he was trying to figure out the best possible response to avoid any kind of disaster.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly not sure how to respond to such an odd question.

"What question is that?" Hector scoffed, leaning back into the couch with a raised eyebrow. He shot you a playful look, but there was a slight edge of frustration in his voice. "You want me to kiss my ex? To save you? What, do I have to give up my dignity along with my kisses now?"

"It’s a hypothetical," you teased, resting your chin in your hand, genuinely curious about how he’d answer. "I mean, if it was really a life or death situation, would you do it? Kiss your ex to save me?"

You couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered he was. This was Hector, usually so confident, so cocky, yet here he was, stumbling over a simple hypothetical question.

"It’s just a what if," you teased, not letting up. "I mean, you would do it, right? If it meant saving my life?"

Hector’s face grew even more serious, as though you were asking him to solve a complex riddle instead of just throwing out a teasing question. His eyes flickered to the ceiling and back to you, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

"I don’t know! This is a loaded question, tesoro," he said, his voice sounding almost defeated, like he’d been given an impossible task. "I mean, it’s not like I want to kiss my ex. But you’re my girlfriend… I’d do anything for you. But it’s my ex, you know?"

You could barely hold back your laughter. Watching Hector struggle with the answer was honestly too entertaining. He was a man who always had an answer, a response, an opinion on everything, yet here he was, completely thrown off by a simple hypothetical.

"But you love me, right?" you pressed, smiling even wider now, enjoying the way he squirmed under your teasing gaze.

"Of course I do!" he shot back, raising his hands in exasperation. "I’d do anything for you! But kissing my ex…" He trailed off, visibly flustered. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed by the thought. "I don’t know how to answer this without it sounding like I actually want to kiss her."

You laughed, feeling a little guilty for tormenting him, but honestly, his reactions were just too priceless. Hector was usually the one in control, always calm, collected, but here he was, as flustered as anyone could be.

"Okay, okay," you said, softening your tone. "What if you had to? Like, no other choice but to kiss her to save my life. No hesitation. Would you do it?"

Hector’s jaw clenched, and he looked like he was about to explode, torn between the two things he loved. You or the weird necessity of kissing his ex.

Finally, he let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess if it really was life or death… I'd kiss her. But that doesn’t mean I’d like it!" he said, his face scrunching up in distaste. "I’d probably feel like I need a shower afterward."

You leaned in, pecking him lightly on the lips. "That’s all I needed to hear," you said, your voice soft and teasing.

Hector’s eyes widened. "Wait what? You’re okay with that? I mean, I didn’t even-" He froze as realization dawned on him. "You just… you really threw me off with that question."

You laughed againn, shaking your head. "I was just messing with you. You’re so cute when you struggle with things like this."

Hector slouched back on the couch, looking both defeated and amused at the same time. "You’re evil," he muttered. "But I’d still kiss you a million times over, even if it meant facing my ex for the rest of my life."

You smiled, feeling a warm rush in your chest at his sincerity, despite the chaos of his answer. "I know you would. And I love you for it."

He sighed in relief. "Good. Because that was way more complicated than it should've been."

And as you nestled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, you couldn't help but think that Hector's struggle to answer might just have been the most entertaining thing you'd ever seen.

"Hey." Hector said, voice breaking through the quiteness of the room.

"Yeah?"

"Do you what another answer would be?" You sat, now looking at him with full interest in your eyes.

His expression shifted, and suddenly, you could see the gears turning in his head. A smug grin began to spread across his face, his confidence coming back rapidly. He leaned in closer, eyes locking onto yours, and there was something dangerously playful in his gaze.

"Well, hermosa," he started, voice low and teasing, "I’m gonna show you who I would kiss to save your life."

Before you could respond, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks, and then he leaned in, just a little too close. His lips were on yours before you could process what was happening.

This wasn’t a quick, innocent, simple kiss. No. It was deep, heated, and far more than what you had been expecting. His lips moved against yours with a sort of intensity that sent heat rushing to your cheeks.

His body leaned into yours, pressing you further into the couch, his kiss becoming more demanding, more urgent. The teasing grin that had been on his face only moments ago was now replaced by a focused determination, as if he was trying to prove a point.

You gasped when he pulled back slightly, but just enough to catch your breath, and your cheeks flared with heat. You were flushed from the kiss, completely breathless.

He smirked down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. "That’s what I’d do, mi amor," he said softly, his lips hovering just above yours, as though daring you to ask him to go further. "I’d kiss you like that and more… to save your life."

Your face burned with embarrassment, but there was no denying how good that kiss had felt. You couldn't even bring yourself to meet his eyes, suddenly feeling way too shy under his intense gaze.

His cocky, confident smirk only made it worse, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"Now, don’t go thinking I’d kiss just anyone like that," Hector teased, his voice playful but with a hint of sincerity behind it. "But for you? I’d go to any length, carino."

You tried to hide your smile, your heart pounding from the depth of the kiss and his words. The way he said it, so effortlessly cocky, yet so full of love for you, was enough to make your insides melt.

"Okay, okay," you muttered, still blushing furiously. "I get it. You’d kiss me to save me. But you didn’t have to go all out like that."

Hector laughed, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently, his hands still resting on your cheeks. "I’m not one for half measures, carino. You’re worth every bit of it. Anyting for you."

You couldn’t help but smile at him, your heart swelling with affection despite the embarrassment he’d caused. Hector might be cocky, but when it came down to it, you knew he’d always have your back, and your heart.

Then, he leans down again, his nose almost touching yours. You can feel his breath, hot against your ear, as his hands wrap around your waist.

You start blushing furiously, your heart racing, as Hector cups your cheeks with his hands, his smirk growing wider.

His thumb gently strokes your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His lips hover just inches from yours, eyes glinting with playful mischief.

You try to look away, but his gaze locks onto yours with such intensity that you can't help but melt.

"What, you think I'm done?" he teases softly, and before you can respond, his lips lean down to meet yours again, this time with even more hunger, his kiss claiming you as if he couldn’t wait any longer.

The heat of his kiss, his teasing touch, and the way he made you feel completely lost in him made it impossible to care about anything else in that moment.

God, you'd do anything for him.

[horoscope1078]

It was a warm evening in Madrid, the kind where the city seemed to glow under the soft light of a setting sun. You stood outside a cosy restaurant near the heart of the city, waiting for Jude and his mother to arrive. He had invited you to dinner, something about catching up and spending time with his mom. But lately, there had been this lingering feeling in the air between you and Jude, something unspoken, something more.

Just as you started to overthink what this dinner might mean, Jude’s familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Hey, you made it!”

You turned to see Jude walking toward you, his signature grin lighting up his face, his mom, Denise, right beside him. He looked more relaxed than usual but there was a nervous energy about him too, like he had something on his mind.

“Of course.” you replied, smiling back. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Denise reached out and gave you a warm hug. “It’s so lovely to see you again, dear! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

You exchanged pleasantries with Denise, who had always been nothing but kind and welcoming. But tonight, something felt a little different. It was almost as if she had a secret, one she was eager to share. You could sense the subtle glances between her and Jude and it didn’t take long to realise that this dinner might not just be about catching up.

As the three of you sat down at a cosy table by the window, the conversation flowed easily. Denise told you stories from when Jude was younger, making him roll his eyes in embarrassment.

“And then there was that time when he scored his first goal for the youth team.” Denise said, laughing softly. “He ran straight to the wrong side of the field to celebrate! Poor thing was so embarrassed.”

“Mom!” Jude groaned, rubbing his face with his hand. “Not this again.”

You laughed along with her, watching the way Jude squirmed in his seat, clearly both embarrassed and amused. You’d seen him so composed on the pitch but here, with his mom and you, he seemed different, more vulnerable, more real.

“I think it’s cute.” you said, grinning at him. “Everyone has their moments.”

Jude looked at you, his smile a little softer now. “Yes, well, I try to avoid those moments these days.”

The dinner continued, with Denise doing most of the talking. You noticed how she subtly tried to direct the conversation toward Jude, how he was doing, what he was thinking and more importantly, how he felt about you. You couldn't help but feel like something was brewing between them, like a shared plan you weren’t in on.

“So..” Denise said after a pause, her tone just a little too casual “Jude’s been talking about you a lot recently.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. You glanced over at Jude, who looked like he was trying to disappear into his chair.

“Mom..” Jude muttered, clearly not expecting that. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

Denise just smiled sweetly, completely ignoring his silent plea. “Oh, don’t be shy, Jude. It’s obvious to everyone who sees you two together that there’s something special.”

You felt your cheeks warm as you looked down at your plate, not sure how to respond. The tension hung in the air for a moment and you suddenly felt very aware of Jude’s presence beside you.

“Is that true?” you asked, your voice soft, daring to look up at Jude.

He swallowed, his eyes finally meeting yours. The playful confidence he usually exuded seemed to melt away, leaving him looking a little uncertain, a little nervous.

“Well..” Jude started, fidgeting with his fork. “Yes, it is.”

Denise gave him an encouraging nudge. “Go on, Jude. Tell her.”

Jude exhaled slowly, his eyes locking onto yours as if he was finally gathering the courage to say something he’d been holding back for far too long.

“I’ve liked you for a while now.” he admitted, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it. “I didn’t really know how to tell you. I mean, you’re one of my best friends and I didn’t want to mess that up, but.. I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. It was something you had secretly hoped for but never expected to hear from him, especially not like this, over dinner with his mom.

Denise, ever the supportive mother, decided to give you both a moment. “I think I’ll step outside and get some fresh air.” she said, winking at Jude as she stood up. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

As she left, an almost unbearable silence settled between you and Jude. The only sound was the soft murmur of the restaurant around you. Jude looked at you, his expression somewhere between hopeful and terrified.

“So.. what do you think?” he asked quietly.

You smiled, reaching across the table to take his hand. “I’ve been hoping you’d say that.”

Jude’s face lit up with relief, his grin returning as he squeezed your hand. “Really?”

“Yes.” you nodded, feeling your own heart lighten. “I’ve liked you too, Jude. For a long time.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sat there smiling at each other, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted. Then, almost instinctively, Jude leaned in, his eyes flicking down to your lips and before you knew it, you were leaning in too.

The kiss was soft, sweet and everything you had imagined it would be. When you pulled back, you saw the grin on his face had only grown wider.

“I’m really glad I finally told you.” he said, his voice full of warmth.

From outside, you could see Denise through the window, watching you both with a proud smile on her face. She gave a little thumbs-up and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well..” you said, still holding Jude’s hand “I think your mom is pretty happy with how that went.”

Jude laughed, looking more at ease than you’d ever seen him. “Yes, I think she is.”

And as the evening went on, you couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something new and exciting, a connection that had always been there, just waiting to be realised.

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Will Halstead (Ft Platonic! Jay Halstead): I'll Call Will 

This was supposed to be short! Why can’t I ever just write a page or two? Oh well- I like how it turned out. I have no medical knowledge and I made shit up.

This is like my People We Love story reversed regarding it being more Platonic Jay x reader than Will x reader.  

You shift and feel Jay’s eyes shoot to you. He had been eyeing you like a bomb that was about to explode since he got to your and Will’s apartment two hours ago. You were trying to ignore him and his detective's gaze, but it was starting to get irritating. “You know if you keep it up, I’m going to take your fun uncle shirt and replace it with a worry wart one.” 

“You’ve been having cramps off and on since I got here, and you don’t look like you feel good.” You roll your eyes at your brother-in-law affectionately. Shooting him an amused look from across the couch and resting your hand on your prominent baby bump. 

“It must be that glow everyone talks about. I'm almost seven months pregnant, Jay. Braxton Hicks is normal.” What you don’t want to tell him as they had been becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. You hadn’t gotten off the couch since he got here because you felt lightheaded with a side of vertigo. “I went to the OB last week for an appointment. They said everything was just fine. No problems, no restrictions.” You tell him and remind yourself.  

You were trying to take the pregnancy in stride. People had babies in fields for years but it didn’t mean you didn’t get nervous sometimes. You had never been pregnant before and didn’t know what to expect and you had learned the hard way that Will was not the one to ask. He was a wealth of information. Too much information. It often made your anxiety worse after talking to him rather than better. He had too many horror stories from the ED.  

Jay looked unconvinced but dropped the subject and went back to watching the trashy TV show you had turned on. The two of you watched another episode and a half with rounds of minor cramping on your part. The commercial was just ending when a cramp so painful jolted through your belly that it made you grab at it and whimper. When you blink Jay is in front of you. He looks angry but you have known him long enough to know it was actually worry clouding his features. “Okay that’s it we are going to the hospital.” 

“Jay, I don’t think-” He doesn’t even let you finish your thought. 

“You either let me take you to the hospital right now or I’ll call Will.” You search Jay’s eyes. “Your choice.” He is clearly over it and reaches for his cell. You can just imagine your husband after a call like that. He would leave work and speed home in a mad dash to get to you. You would feel so bad if he did all that for a few Braxton Hick contractions.   

“Okay! Okay, fine, let’s go.” Jay wastes no getting you to your feet and out of the apartment steering you to his car. “Just what the world needed another Doctor Halstead, Will will be so proud.” You tell him before Jay rolls his eyes and closes the car door. 

You sit in the hospital bed waiting for the OB to come back.  Your doctor was out today and the woman that came in was all warm smiles and a reassuring tone. She must have been new because you didn’t recognize her or her name. “It looks like the cramping is just Braxton Hicks. It’s completely normal and nothing to worry about.” You looked over at Jay who had been lurking near the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“What? It was better to get you checked out just in case.” Jay’s tone is defensive, and you roll your eyes lovingly at your brother-in-law. The OB smiled at him and patted him comfortingly on the arm. 

“It is a good thing that he brought you in.” You look at the woman in surprise because her tone goes serious. “Your blood pressure is much higher than I would like. Have you been under more stress than normal lately?” You sigh as you begrudgingly tell her about your increased workload. “Have you been feeling more fatigued than normal? Lightheaded, dizzy, or any vertigo?”  

“I’m almost seven months pregnant, isn’t feeling off kind of normal?” You put your hand on your rounded stomach protectively. 

“It can be but with your blood pressure being so high it’s concerning. I’m going to order a blood panel just to be on the safe side. Now, let’s take a peek at this baby.” The ultrasound is all normal. the OB points out your baby's face and hand. You look over at Jay who is watching the screen in awe. He had seen the pictures, but this was a new experience. He breathed a quiet wow as the quick heartbeat of the baby filled the room. “It all looks good. It shouldn’t take long for that panel then you will be good to go.” 

A familiar nurse that you can’t name comes in and draws your blood. “Maybe I should message Will and let him know we are here.” Jay pulls his phone out of his pocket and begins typing. 

“Why so he can wait with us? He is working- leave him alone. Besides that was our deal, wasn’t it? There isn’t an emergency.” Jay holds his hands up in surrender. “And will you sit down please- your pacing is driving me crazy.” Jay flops into the chair giving you a ‘happy now’ look. “Geez, it’s like having a real brother.” 

“Yeah, and you're stuck with me. You and that bean, you got growing.” 

You smile caressing your stomach, “I’m good with that.” As much as you had fought him on it, it was nice to know that he cared enough to drag you to the hospital. Jay was protective and you knew he was going to be a lot more than just the fun uncle who only stopped by when he felt like treating your kid to a good time. “Can I ask you something?” At his nod, you continued, “Why were you at my apartment at 2 in the afternoon on a day you knew Will worked a double? Did Will ask you to check up on me?” 

“No,” You gave him a look of disbelief, “No, really, he didn’t. He didn’t ask me to come over or anything like that. He just mentioned that he thought you may not have been feeling good the last few days. So, I just wanted to make sure that you were- Are you crying?”  

You were.  

You had big crocodile tears running down your cheeks, “It’s the hormones. And honestly, that is just the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” More tears streamed down your face and Jay looked uncertain of what to do. When he saw a strategically placed tissue box, he grabbed it and held it out to you. You grabbed a few and started dabbing at your eyes. Your own family hadn’t been part of your life much since you had moved to Chicago. Not that they had been very good to you throughout your childhood into your twenties. You felt like you looked out for them more than they ever would for you. “I hope you know that I appreciate you and I’m so glad you are going to be in this baby's life. I love you, Jay.” He looked a little miffed but flattered as he rubbed your back soothingly.  

“Of course, I love you too.” 

You had gathered your raging emotions by the time the OB had returned. “Alright, everything looks good. I’m not going to put you on bed rest, but I highly encourage you to take it easy for the next few days.” You thank her and swing your legs over the bed to start the process of getting up, which is much harder now with a protruding belly. The woman paused in the doorway before turning and taking another step back into the room. You and Jay both look at her. “You know, another good natural way to get your blood pressure down is by having sex. I don’t see any problems with you having sexual activity right now. And with the looker you got- I would take every opportunity you get before the baby is the one keeping you up at night.” The doctor gives you a knowing wink before exiting the room. 

You look over to see a mortified Jay. His eyes were closed tightly, and he brought his hand to scrub down the bottom half of his face. The woman had barely made it out the door when you started laughing uncontrollably. When Will walked into the room less than a minute later and looked at you in bemusement as you tried to catch your breath. “Everything okay?” 

You immediately sober, “I told you not to bother him!” Will walked over to your bedside and helped you shuffle off the bed. His hand came to rest in its now familiar place on your stomach.  

“He didn’t, Maggie saw your name on some bloodwork. Are you okay? Everything okay with the baby?” Will’s face was furrowed with concern. You put your hand over his stroking your thumb across his knuckles.  

“Everything is fine. I had some cramping and Jay took me in to be on the safe side. It was just Braxton Hicks.” Some of the tension left Will but you can tell he is still on alert. “My blood pressure is a little high. But don’t worry, the doc thinks it is just from stress. She told me I should take it easy for a few days and gave me a few...natural ways to bring it down.” Will furrowed his brow trying to think of what you could be referring to. Then he turned when he heard Jay cough and mutter something under his breath. Will looked between the two of you knowing he had missed something.  

You give him a soft smile, “I’ll explain later. But really, don't worry, okay. I’m just going to spend the day on the couch watching Love is Blind. Taking it easy and relaxing, just like she said.” You push up on your toes and oblige you by leaning down for a kiss. “Now, I really have to go to the bathroom.” You say as you make a beeline for the public bathroom down the hall.  

“Is she really, okay? It must have been pretty bad for her to feel like she needed to call you.” Will looked even more worried after you left the room. Jay rested his hand on his shoulder to comfort his older brother. He knew that Will had been trying his hardest to keep all of his own worry as a doctor from bleeding into you. He had been trying hard to do everything at your pace and not overstep the line of future dad to doctor. It hadn’t always been a struggle he won. It didn’t help that you hated hospitals and felt like less was more when it came to OB appointments. You had a tendency to cancel and never reschedule them much to his frustration.  

“She’s okay. I was actually already over there. She started getting some cramping and I kind of forced her to come here to get checked out.” A guilty look crossed Jay's face. 

“Forced her?” Will found that hard to believe. It was like pulling teeth to force you into doing anything. You had a stubborn streak to match the Halstead clan. 

“Well, more of an ultimatum really. I told her she could either agree to come in or I'd call you.”  

Will hummed in understanding, that sounded way more plausible. “You were already over there? I thought I told you I was working a double.” 

“You did.” Jay agreed, “You also told me she had been feeling well.”  

The gratitude that Will felt for his brother at that moment was overwhelming. “Thanks, man. I’m glad you were there. It means a lot.” 

“You would have done the same for me,” Jay stated simply, “Besides that what you do for family.” He sighed heavily, “That’s why after I buy her the pizza she has been talking about for the last hour, I’m going to sit down on the couch with her and watch that trash she calls TV. I’ll make sure she is all good until you get home.” 

[seastarblue]

Writemas Day Nine!

nine tiiiiiiime!

the prompts for today!

the ones I chose were:

“…Did you just hug me?”

“Say that again. Never stop saying it.”

the vicious bite of regret

church setting

The whispers of the damned, those who existed solely on the wind, screeched through the shattered windows.

yknow I change these prompts a lot I’m realizing :/ like they’re not exact… anyways.

———

The whispers of the damned, the dead, the forbidden, were always present. They screeched through broken windows, startling Kaiden from her sleep. A cool breeze was permanently blowing, making her shiver. She tried to get up, but found she could not with the rope binding her hands to another’s.

“Tried that already, Kaids.” the person whose hands they were said. He coughed.

She turned her head—‘gods, that hurt’—to him, the little light that emanated from his wings just barely illuminating his features. Despite that, she could see the furrow of his brow and the tension in his jaw. The bite of regret suddenly reminded her: They had been captured. On the most important mission of their lives, no less.

“Felix. Where…?” she started, still woozy.

“Some church, I think. Just past Liaba Ridge.”

“Okay… well, when did you wake up?”

“An hour ago? Not sure—also your head’s bleeding, those guys nailed it really bad.”

Right on cue, she felt a trickle of blood roll down the side of her face, mingling with the other blood pooling underneath them. “Ouch.”

“Ouch is right,” he replied, shifting his weight slightly, which elicited winces from the both of them. “We aren’t getting out of here anytime soon.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, urgently, worry tinging her tone.

“I think I broke my pinkie toe. Pair that with my throat being—” a short coughing fit, then, “—sore, to say the least, the ol’ wing tears, and the possible cracked ribs? I’ve felt better. How are you?”

“…Not good.”

Felix chuckled, but it was without mirth. “Blunt as always, Kaids.”

Silence settled between them as they thought about where to go from here. They were knocked out, beaten—if the mysterious injuries they’d sustained were anything to go by—tied up, and possibly left for dead in an abandoned building. It wasn’t looking good.

Still, they’d faced worse odds before. All the pair needed was a plan.

“We’re trapped, yes, but we’re not completely incapacitated,” she observed, cocking her head to Felix’s legs. “Our legs are… relatively okay. All we need to do is—”

“—figure out where we are, then—”

“—find a way back to the rendezvous point. We lay low until the others come.” she finished with a smile.

“Alrighty Kaidy, sounds good. But,” Kaiden felt a prick of magic, and heard Felix sigh, “Magic’s blocked. I can’t sever the ropes. Maybe if I…” he started wiggling, seemingly trying to get a better angle to work from. His wings, however, were crushing themselves even more.

“Hey!” she hissed. “Careful, your wings!”

“Well I can’t untie it if I stay still, now can I?” he huffed, but his voice was tinged with pain.

“Let me do it.” Kaiden tried her hands at the binds, but to no avail. They were too numb to be of any use. Damned cold.

Kaiden groaned. “This is gonna take ages.”

“Well at least the ropes aren’t enchanted…?” Felix offered, but his tone soured fast. “Oh, fuck me.”

She was going to ask what made him upset, but then she felt it: the ropes tightening of their own accord. Her eyes darted to where she imagined the door was, and dread filled her as she realized it, too, was enchanted, glowing slightly at the edges.

They were trapped. Clearly, their captors knew what they were doing.

‘Well, time for a new plan, I suppose.’ she thought. Her mind whirled, like the winds outside, as the spirits—‘useless things’—looked on. Despite her best efforts, she came up dry.

Kaiden blinked back tears as her planning turned to panicking. They’d die here, of starvation, or the cold—or their injuries, even—at this rate. A pit opened in her stomach, threatening to swallow every last bit of composure she had.

Until she felt an unsteady hand on the small of her back. And a pair of familiar wings, stretched out on both sides, their faint glow slightly tainted from the tears in the membrane.

The surprise shortly stunned her. “��Did you just hug me? Or try to?”

“Maybe,” he said, so gently Kaiden almost missed it. “And before you say ‘I don’t need it, I’ll be fine,’ just know I can feel your anxiety from here.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he added, “One of the many perks of being Bound to you. We’ll be okay.”

She tried to object, but deep down she knew that this would be best: letting herself calm down and then think would assist her in the long run. Besides, when she really focused on their soul bind, she found that Felix was just as scared as her. So she leaned her head on his, and took a breath. “Say that again.”

“We’ll be okay?”

“Mm.”

“We’ll be okay,” he shifted his weight again, carefully this time. “We’ll be okay.”

Kaiden closed her eyes and tried to relax.

“… how many more times do I have to say this, by the way?”

“Don’t stop saying it. At least till you can see that I’ve calmed down. And do watch your wings, please.”

Felix chuckled. “As you wish. We’ll be okay.”

———

they were not, in fact, okay :>

General Writing List! Lemme know if you’d like on/off!

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@verdant-mainframe @kittrrrr @ruvastuon @agirlandherquill (<- the host!)

thanks for reading !

[blackenedsnow]

Do you think you can write anything where Chucky/Charles cheers the reader up? Especially if it was related to her(reader) feeling fat and unattractive, you know. Just some fluff

killer confidence

WARNING: Mention of insecurities related to body image

PAIRING: Chucky & (Fem) Reader

NOTE: I'm so glad I'm finally getting requests ughh!! Thank you for your ask. I hope this is alright!

SUMMARY: Feeling insecure about your appearance, especially your weight, you try to hide those feelings, but Chucky, always observant in his twisted way, notices something's off.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, frowning as your eyes scanned over every flaw you thought you could see. The shirt you were wearing felt tight today, tighter than usual, clinging to your body in ways you didn’t like. Your pants felt snug, and no matter how many times you tugged at the fabric, trying to loosen it, nothing helped. You sighed, pulling at your shirt again, wishing you could just disappear.

“What the hell’s your problem?”

You startled, turning around to see Chucky sitting on the edge of the dresser, arms crossed and a bemused smirk on his face.

“Nothing,” you muttered, turning back to the mirror and running your hands over your midsection again, hoping that maybe this time it would look different. “Just… don’t feel great today.”

Chucky raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering just a bit. “Oh yeah? What’s eating at you now?”

You hesitated, not really wanting to talk about it. How could you explain the constant insecurity, the way your mind twisted every reflection into something worse, something uglier? You already felt ridiculous for letting it get to you so much.

“It’s stupid,” you finally said, waving your hand dismissively. “I just feel… fat. Ugly. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Chucky snorted, but there was a glint of something in his eyes—something that wasn’t just mockery. “That’s what you’re worried about? Jesus, you women and your body image shit. It’s always the same thing.”

You glared at him, expecting some snide comment or cruel joke. That was his usual way of handling things, after all—harsh humor, crude remarks. It was just who he was.

But instead, he surprised you.

“You know, you’re the only one who sees yourself like that,” Chucky said, hopping down from the dresser and sauntering over to you. “I don’t know where you’re gettin’ this idea that you’re ‘fat’ or ‘ugly’ or whatever the hell’s goin’ on in that head of yours, but it’s complete bullshit.”

You blinked, turning to face him fully now, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “You… think so?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course I think so. You think I’d hang around here if you weren’t worth looking at? C’mon, give me a little credit. I’ve got standards.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Leave it to Chucky to make a compliment sound like an insult.

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself for getting a reaction out of you. “See? That’s better. You’re too busy worrying about what you think you look like to realize you’ve got nothing to be whining about.”

“But I don’t feel—” you started, but Chucky cut you off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You don’t feel like you look good. You’re stuck in that shitty little brain of yours, obsessing over crap that doesn’t matter. But let me tell you somethin’, sweetheart—none of that changes the fact that you're not fuckin' ugly, no matter what you think.”

Your face flushed at his blunt words. “Chucky, you really—”

“—need to stop bein’ so goddamn nice? Yeah, I know.” He shrugged, pacing in front of you with his usual swagger. “But let me make this clear. I’ve seen a lotta people in my time—real sickos, gorgeous dames, ugly bastards, you name it—and you? You’re a damn knockout compared to most of ‘em.”

You felt your heart lift slightly at his words, despite how gruff they were. “You really think that?”

Chucky rolled his eyes again but nodded, a grin creeping back onto his face. “Hell yeah, I do. You think I’d bother stickin’ around if you weren’t worth it? I may be a killer, but I’m not blind.”

You laughed softly again, the weight of your earlier insecurity starting to fade under his strangely endearing pep talk.

“And another thing,” he said, pointing at you with that little plastic hand. “If anyone tries to tell you otherwise? I’ll gut ‘em, no questions asked. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m sure you would.”

“Damn right.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Thanks, Chucky. I mean it. I guess I’ve just been in my head a lot lately.”

"Yeah, yeah, don’t get all mushy on me now," he grumbled, though there was a hint of a grin on his face. "But seriously, stop tearing yourself down. You’ve got better things to focus on—like helping me figure out how to take out the neighbors. That guy across the street’s been pissing me off for weeks."

You snorted. "Yeah, I’ll get right on that."

Chucky nodded, satisfied. "Good. And hey, if you ever start feeling like this again, just remember: I don’t hang around fuckin' losers. You’re stuck with me, so that should tell you something."

It was probably the closest thing to a compliment Chucky could manage, but it meant more than you’d expected. The tension that had been weighing on you for most of the day started to ease, and for the first time in hours, you didn’t feel quite so bad about yourself.

Maybe it was just the absurdity of getting a pep talk from a killer doll, but you actually felt a little better. And for now, that was enough.

[yallthemwitches]

The Best Fun

Super silly, short fic for @jilytoberfest Day 6: Food disasters

Because we all know Sirius would be the one to experiment with muggle drugs~ AO3 link here!

“Prongs—don’t be angry.”

Peter stood with his back against the Fat Lady who screamed at him to be unhanded. His arms were outstretched but his face was riddled with absolute fear. 

“Can’t say I love hearing that from you, Wormy.”

If Peter had been sent to ward him off, that meant that the other two marauders must be shit deep in whatever laid beyond the portrait hole. Usually, the prospect of something to spice up his evening would perk his spirits, but tonight was a rare exception. 

He had been forced to do patrols with Chloe Sparrow due to the fact that she had been favoring her fellow Slytherins during her rounds. Although it had been his idea, it didn’t help that it took away precious time patrolling with Lily. Then, as he had come to find out, it also meant the night would be filled with a strange mixture of semi racist remarks and what James could only refer to as a grotesque version of flirting, ending in Chloe being sent back to her dorms before she could smack his arse another time. 

So in short, James’ bullshit threshold was reaching max capacity. 

“So—do you just want to tell me or do I need to pretend to struggle past you…”

Peter started to look visibly sweaty and backed off of the Fat Lady who, now free from her smothering, chirped insults under her breath. 

“Uhm. So before I say anything, you should know Lily wanted to, so—”

“Peter.” 

James was losing patience fast. He had expected the lads to have done something, sure, but Lily was a development he wasn’t ready for. From his tone alone, it all came tumbling out of Peter like a single word.

”Pads made some stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?”

Peter’s eyes shifted. “Muggle stuff—said something about how that band,The Beagles or whatever, used it to—”

James walked up to his mate who jumped out of the way before he could even attempt to push through. 

Trudging through the portrait hole, Peter kept fast on his feet, babbling excuses like a mosquito hovering to feed.

“Again! She wanted to! Even helped a bit! Moony didn’t stop them!”

A voice drawled out from the center of the common room. “Thanks for ratting me out Wormy.” 

Remus laid reclined on the length of the couch, book in one hand while a cigarette hung from his lips. 

James took stock of the room. The only thing that looked remotely out of place was a tray of what looked like a dessert which had been ravenously attacked. A knife balanced on the baking tray. 

“So where are they?” 

Without any further elaboration Lupin tilted his head towards the fireplace and James took the two steps needed to get enough clearance to see over onto the ground. Lily was curled up in a ball, eyes closed and head resting on the stomach of a giant black dog, both completely asleep.

“Explain.” He used his head boy voice, but Remus only laughed. 

“Sirius thought it would be a scream to make pot brownies—should have seen them about an hour ago—never seen two people hug and dance around so much in my life.”

Peter, who was still standing at the entrance of the portrait hole, pipped up in a quivering voice. “It was quite nice actually—Lily was so affectionate and—”

“And you didn’t call me? Didn’t think that I wanted to come try muggle drug food too?”

James looked down at his sleeping girlfriend who buried her nose into Sirius’ stomach, hands curling around the fur, blissfully unaware that the animal she was laying on could be anything other than a dog. 

“You all knew I’ve always wanted to do this, Moony! Honestly, I’m hurt!”

“Sorry mate, it just happened.”

James crouched down next to Lily’s sleeping form, brushing some of her hair from her face. At his touch, her eyes blinked open, a brilliant glassy green, slightly bloodshot, looked up at him.

“Oh Baby! You’re back!” She lifted up and threw her arms around his neck, nuzzling her nose into his collar. 

“Oh I just love you! Wow, you smell so good!” 

Every word from her mouth sounded breathy and light, like the world was one big cloud with her on it. From behind him, Peter muttered: “See? I quite like her stoned” and Lupin just snorted in response.

“Have you met this dog? I love this dog.” She turned to wrap her arms back around a still sleeping Sirius, but James caught her, pulling her back into him. 

“I have met the dog—that's ok, we can leave him alone now.” James cradled her to his chest and she melted into him, completely forgetting Sirius despite her comment seconds ago.

“I can see you had some fun tonight.” 

She didn’t respond, rather looking up into his eyes before bursting into a laugh, grabbing both sides of his face and smashing their foreheads together. 

“Brilliant fun. The best fun. But not as fun as you. I missed you.”

It was hard to feel upset about that. James scooped under her legs and carried her like a child over to the staircase which led up to the dorms. Laughter tumbled out of her mouth before becoming preoccupied with kissing his neck in quick, frantic pecks. 

“I’m going to get her to bed before she decides she loves someone else—” Lily just squealed, wrapping her hands tighter around his neck in an attempt to get him to kiss her.

“If Sirius wakes up, tell him I’ll give him a running head start in the morning before I beat the shit out of him–.”

Remus didn’t look up from his book, eyebrows raised.

“Awfully kind of you Prongs.”

James started to climb the steps, Lily alternating between laughter and proclamations of love.

“Well–It’s the least I could do to repay him.”

[cheeby]

The weight of what comes next

read chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here

content: a multi-part isekai story. reader is aware of the plot, and every minor character is aged up. Jujutsu high is now the University of Jujutsu.

18+, eventual smut

Chapter 3-

“Oh, speak of the devil. Here’s your fellow first year buddy,” Gojo chuckles. “Megumi! C’mon over!”

You turn, expecting… well, you weren’t too sure. The boy walking towards you looks like he’s wandered out of a far-away, wistful daydream. His dark hair flops over his forehead, his expression somewhere between bored and annoyed, and he's giving you a look like he already regrets meeting you. He’s absolutely beautiful.

“This is Fushiguro Megumi,” Gojo announces, lazily draping an arm around the boy’s shoulders. Megumi immediately shrugs him off. “He’s our star student! Aaand the only student here that probably won’t make you wanna gouge your eyes out.”

“How comforting..” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Megumi casts a glance your way, his sharp eyes scanning your face briefly, as though trying to figure you out. You blush under his gaze. It feels somehow different than how Nanami or Gojo look at you.

“Who’s this?” He asks Gojo, ignoring you completely. Umm okayyy..

“This,” Gojo says, motioning towards you with a dramatic flourish, “Is (Y/N) (L/N), our newest recruit. Isn’t she soo lucky to have you as her mentor?" “Mentor?” Megumi repeats, frowning. “What.. are you talking about?” “Oh, right, I didnt mention! You two are going on a mission together.” Gojo’s tone is way too cheerful for what he’s just dropped. “Call it… bonding time!” “Wait, what?” You and Megumi say in unison.

Gojo nods. “I know it's a little fast, but we don’t have other sorcerers available right now. Plus, it's just going to another university and investigating a ~spooky~ special-grade object!” He laughs. “Its nothing too bad. And this is a great way for (Y/N) to gain some first hand experience before starting lessons on Monday!”

Megumi grunts. “Great.” He mutters. “And, (Y/N), since you can't really use your cursed energy right now, you’ll be given a weapon imbued with cursed energy to help you fight any curses! Cool, right?” He grins, putting his face between his hands. ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You and Megumi set out on your mission together. You wonder if this is where you’ll meet Yuji, since universities replace the high schools in this universe. Thank god, you think, relieved. You totally didnt wanna be the only young adult along with some 16 year olds! Even though you’re only a few years older than them, it’s just weird.

Megumi’s barely said a word to you since you’ve met him, but you’re okay with it, since his character's exactly like this in the anime. It’s sort of comforting.

You shift the concealed glaive Gojo lent you in your hands. To anyone else, it looks like some sort of tall instrument in its carrier. Your glaive is beautiful, with intricate carvings along the handle and a blade that gleams unnaturally sharp. It’s surprisingly light too—Gojo explained that it was imbued with energy to reduce its weight and sharpen its blade. You could probably spin it around in your hands if you tried, but you know better than that.

The two of you board a packed train to Sendai, and you settle into your seat next to Megumi. It’s early summer here, and the AC is on full blast above you. Megumi’s in his usual dark uniform, which you think is weird, what university has a uniform? You glance down at your own outfit, the one you've stayed in this whole time—jeans and a cute pink top— and suddenly feel self-conscious. Compared to Megumi’s sleek, polished look, you feel massively underdressed. Then, it hits you: what about all your clothes? You groan. You’re gonna have to buy a whole new wardrobe!

At that, Megumi glances at you, his brow furrowed slightly. “What’s wrong?” He asks quietly.

You blink, caught off guard by his attention. “Oh, uh… just thinking about something. I live kinda.. far from Tokyo, so I’m not sure how I’ll get my clothes and stuff to my room.”

He raises a brow, unimpressed. “Just buy new stuff. Gojo will cover it.” His tone is matter-of-fact, as if that suddenly solves everything. He just doesn’t get it! “And on missions, you can only wear your uniform anyway. Obviously not in this case, but you’ll get one soon enough.”

You nod, processing his words. “Don’t you think it’s weird that a university enforces a uniform though?”

Megumi looks away in thought, tilting his head slightly. “I mean, I guess if it was an academic university. But it’s for sorcerers, and we always usually wear some sort of professional wear, I guess. It's just custom in Japan.” You hum in agreement. “I went to a regular university before this… so it’s still weird to me.”

At this, he looks back at you, curiosity flickering across his usually stoic face. God, he’s so cute!

“I was studying physics,” You continue, a hint of pride slipping into your voice. “At a pretty prestigious university in my country.” Even though you were only there for a couple months, it’s still something you’re proud of. You were in your first year of university back home, similar to now.

Megumi nods slightly, his expression unreadable. Then, to your utter shock, he says, “That’s… cool.”

Your eyes widen. Did… Megumi just compliment you?

You settle into a comfortable silence for the next hour and a half. Despite yourself, you feel oddly shy sitting so close to him. Megumi Fushiguro, in the flesh. In 2021, when you had first watched the anime, you had the biggest crush on him. Seeing him in person, rather than a 2D character on your screen? Completely swoon-worthy. His lashes are just as long as you remember, his hands just as graceful. You feel your cheeks heat up, and you force yourself to look away before he catches you staring.To your relief, (and honestly your delight), you’d realised earlier that you’re indeed the same age. Then, there was the fact you were in 2018, which was a total mind-fuck of its own. You had figured it out when you pulled out your iPhone 15 in front of Megumi, who had given you the weirdest look.

“What model is that?” He’d asked, frowning.

You were about to say, before you glanced at his iPhone.. 6s?

“Oh, uh, it’s a foreign brand,” you said quickly, shoving your phone back in your bag before he could question it further. ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The train pulls into Sendai in the evening, and the two of you make your way to the university campus.

“There are strong cursed energy residuals near that shed,” he mutters, pointing towards the small structure in the distance. You pause. For the first time, you realise you can feel it too—sticky and all things gross.

You two find the shed broken into, just like in the anime. There is no cursed object in sight. This, of course, sends Megumi into a panic, as he tries to search for it nearby.

“Damn it,” he mutters, stepping around the shed and again circling the area, clearly agitated. You lean casually against the shed, watching him with mild amusement. You’re not exactly sure why, but you don’t feel particularly inclined to help.

“Are you seriously just gonna stand there?” He snaps at you, glaring.

“Hm.. yup.” You grin, trying—and failing— to suppress a laugh. “Its clearly not here anyway, Megu- uhh Fushiguro.” Damn it! Why do you keep saying their first names?!

He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re impossible.” He mutters, before pulling out his phone to call Gojo.

“There’s nothing here. The Stevenson hutch is empty.” Megumi says, evenly.

“For real? That’s hilarious. Maybe it took a nighttime stroll!” You can hear Gojo’s gleeful voice on the other end. You smile to yourself. Megumi’s jaw tightens. “I’m going to punch you.” He says flatly. “Well, no going home until it’s recovered, okay?” Gojo chirps, before the line disconnects. “I’m seriously going to punch him.” Megumi mutters. You can’t help but giggle at his exasperation. As the sky darkens even further, Megumi sighs and puts his phone away.

“We’ll book a hotel, and continue our search for the object tomorrow morning.” Megumi states, already scrolling on his phone for a good deal. “Okay!” You reply brightly, following him back towards the main road.

You check into the hotel, and head to your rooms, which are conveniently next to each other. You’re a little let down at the fact you weren’t forced into a “sorry, we only have one room available” trope, not that you.. wanted to share a room with Megumi of course. You just.. thought it would be funny. Maybe. Shaking the thought away, you settle into your room.

After dropping off your things, (which wasn’t much, at all), you and Megumi head out to grab dinner at a nearby restaurant. The two of you eat in silence, both way too hungry to bother with conversation, beyond the occasional “this is so good” between bites.

When the plates are cleared and you’re waiting for the bill, you stretch and stifle a yawn, glancing across the booth at Megumi. Deciding to break the silence, you try to strike up conversation.

“Soo, Fushiguro, how did you-” before you can finish, a waiter hands over the bill, and Megumi pays with Gojo-sensei’s card. You raise an eyebrow at the sight, but choose not to comment.

“What were you saying?” He asks softly, as he slides the card back into his wallet. Why was such a simple action so hot?! You hesitate. You were going to ask him how he became a jujutsu sorcerer, but you already knew. You had watched JJK 0 the second it came out, after all. “Oh, nothing important. Let’s get back to the hotel and catch some rest!” You say, cheerfully, brushing it off.

Megumi doesn’t reply, just nods in agreement.

You’re jolted awake by a knock at your door. Groggy and disorientated, you sit up as a familiar voice calls through the door. “Hurry up,” Megumi says, sounding irritated. You glance at the clock and groan. You didn’t even set an alarm. The rest of yesterdays night was uneventful, and since Megumi didnt seem up for much conversation, you just called it an early night.

You hop into the bathroom, brushing your teeth, and quickly fix your hair in the mirror, trying to look at least somewhat good, but without the time to shower, you feel super gross walking out in the same clothes as yesterday. Yuck! You open the door after you’ve finished getting ready. “Sorry for being late,” you say, in shame.

Megumi just scoffs. Okay… what’s his deal? ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The train pulls into Sendai in the evening, and the two of you make your way to the university campus.

“There are strong cursed energy residuals near that shed,” he mutters, pointing towards the small structure in the distance. You pause. For the first time, you realise you can feel it too—sticky and all things gross.

You two find the shed broken into, just like in the anime. There is no cursed object in sight. This, of course, sends Megumi into a panic, as he tries to search for it nearby.

“Damn it,” he mutters, stepping around the shed and again circling the area, clearly agitated. You lean casually against the shed, watching him with mild amusement. You’re not exactly sure why, but you don’t feel particularly inclined to help.

“Are you seriously just gonna stand there?” He snaps at you, glaring.

“Hm.. yup.” You grin, trying—and failing— to suppress a laugh. “Its clearly not here anyway, Megu- uhh Fushiguro.” Damn it! Why do you keep saying their first names?!

He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re impossible.” He mutters, before pulling out his phone to call Gojo.

“There’s nothing here. The Stevenson hutch is empty.” Megumi says, evenly.

“For real? That’s hilarious. Maybe it took a nighttime stroll!” You can hear Gojo’s gleeful voice on the other end. You smile to yourself. Megumi’s jaw tightens. “I’m going to punch you.” He says flatly. “Well, no going home until it’s recovered, okay?” Gojo chirps, before the line disconnects. “I’m seriously going to punch him.” Megumi mutters. You can’t help but giggle at his exasperation. As the sky darkens, Megumi sighs and puts his phone away.

“We’ll book a hotel, and continue our search for the object tomorrow morning.” Megumi states, already scrolling on his phone for a good deal. “Okay!” You reply brightly, following him back towards the main road.

You check into the hotel, and head to your rooms, which are conveniently next to each other. You’re a little let down at the fact you weren’t forced into a “sorry, we only have one room available” trope, not that you.. wanted to share a room with Megumi of course. You just.. thought it would be funny. Maybe. Shaking the thought away, you settle into your room.

After dropping off your things, (which wasn’t much, at all), you and Megumi head out to grab dinner at a nearby restaurant. The two of you eat in silence, both way too hungry to bother with conversation, beyond the occasional “this is so good” between bites.

When the plates are cleared and you’re waiting for the bill, you stretch and stifle a yawn, glancing across the booth at Megumi. Deciding to break the silence, you try to strike up conversation.

“Soo, Fushiguro, how did you-” before you can finish, a waiter hands over the bill, and Megumi pays with Gojo-sensei’s card. You raise an eyebrow at the sight, but choose not to comment.

“What were you saying?” He asks softly, as he slides the card back into his wallet. Why was such a simple action so hot?! You hesitate. You were going to ask him how he became a jujutsu sorcerer, but you already knew. You had watched JJK 0 the second it came out, after all. “Oh, nothing important. Let’s get back to the hotel and catch some rest!” You say, cheerfully, brushing it off.

Megumi doesn’t reply, just nods in agreement.

You’re jolted awake by a knock at your door. Groggy and disorientated, you sit up as a familiar voice calls through the door. “Hurry up,” Megumi says, sounding irritated. You glance at the clock and groan. You didn’t even set an alarm. The rest of yesterdays night was uneventful, and since Megumi didnt seem up for much conversation, you just called it an early night.

You hop into the bathroom, brushing your teeth, and quickly fix your hair in the mirror, trying to look at least somewhat good, but without the time to shower, you feel super gross walking out in the same clothes as yesterday. Yuck! You open the door after you’ve finished getting ready.

“Sorry for being late,” you say, in shame.

Megumi just scoffs. Okay… what’s his deal?

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Back at the university grounds, Megumi turns to you, his expression serious.

“The presence of the object is too strong to pin down. It feels like its close by, but it could actually be far away. Special grade cursed objects are always a pain…” he rambles.

You nod along, pretending to be clueless even though you know exactly what the object actually is. “I have no clue who could’ve moved it..” He continues, frustration creeping into his voice as you both make your way towards the sports grounds.

As you approach, you catch sight of a pink-haired boy, Yuji Itadori, hurling a heavy metal ball over 30 meters like its nothing. Your jaw drops.

“Woah…” you mutter under your breath. It’s one thing to see it in the anime, but witnessing it in real life? Insane. “That guy is incredible.” Megumi murmurs. “Pulling off that shot with no cursed energy… that’s difficult.”

You nod, silently agreeing.

Suddenly, the boy darts past you and Megumi, moving so fast you almost lose sight of him. An intense burst of cursed energy hits your senses like a slap to the face.

“The presence of a cursed object!” Megumi yells. “Hey, hold it!” He extends an arm towards Yuji, but he’s long gone. You stifle a giggle.

“That’s not funny, (L/N),” Megumi snaps. “Now we’re gonna have to track that guy down!”

“I heard Yuji can run 50 meters in 3 seconds!” Someone nearby says, as you overhear whispers about the boy’s incredible speed. You and Megumi exchange a look of dumbfoundedness.

By the time you follow the trail of cursed energy to the hospital, it was already late evening. You, of course, know this is not where the object you were trying to locate really is—it’s still in the university, but to not risk disrupting the canon, you go along with Megumi anyway. You also know this was the day Yuji’s grandfather had passed away, so you aren’t really looking forward to meeting him under such awful conditions. It feels.. wrong. You reach the hospital, and hang back, taking a seat off to the side, letting Megumi speak to Yuji, their conversation unfolding just as you remember from the anime. There’s no point in interfering, you think.

You observe the interaction neutrally. Megumi explains the concept of curses to a confused Yuji, and warns Yuji how the object he thinks Yuji’s in possession of, is a special-grade cursed object. Yuji, looking nervous, says he doesn’t actually have the object, as you expect, and tosses the box over to Megumi.

“Its.. empty..” Megumi remarks, his tone sharp. Yuji shrugs, and tries to leave the room, but Megumi grabs him by his arm and stops him in his tracks. “Hold it. Where is it?” He demands.

Yuji hesitates, glancing between you on the chair, and Megumi, before admitting “My friends… they’re planning on opening it up tonight, to see what’s inside it.” You stand, crossing your arms. The air is thick, and you feel a frown forming at the corners of your lips.

“Uh.. why? Is that bad?” Yuji asks anxiously, continuing to look between the two of you.

“It’s worse than bad.” Megumi says through gritted teeth. His voice hardens as he continues.

“Your friends are going to die.”

~~~~ cliff-hanger! also, i've attached below some pictures of what a glaive is, if you're unfamiliar. they're very pretty looking, and i thought this would be a badass weapon for MC to have. Lmk any thoughts you have about this chapter, and i'll see you next wednesday!

[celabi]

I’m super glad you’re back! :D

I’ve got a ton of little prompt ideas floating around in my head for scummy scara but I don’t want to dump them all out at once so I’ll just bring one for now:

what if reader asked scara out on a date?

bonus points if reader shy and stuttering because yes

here’s a gold star for your awesome writing ⭐️

Hello!! I’m semi-returned to writing!! I’m still in the hospital but I feel better then I did before so I’ll be trying to clear out some of my drafts !! 🫶 sorry, this is really short, I didn’t know how to write it 😭😭

Asking Scummy Scaramouche out on a date! ☆彡

The lesson had just wrapped up for the day when Scaramouche feels a light tap on his bicep. It’s you, when he turns his head to the side— and with a cute little smile plastered on your glossy lips no less. He blinks slowly, and momentarily halts his actions of packing away his stationary so he can provide you his full attention— even going as far to prop up his elbow, leaning his red tinted cheek on his palm and returning your grin. “Yes, [name]? Would you like me to walk you home today? I truly mean it when I say that my time for you is unlimited.” ‘Please say yes, please say yes, please sa—’ his eyes slightly crease and shoulders visibly drop in disappointment when a head shake is what he receives in return, but he still nods back to you in understanding. “Oh, okay… no worries.”

He watches in curiosity as you turn your gaze and look anywhere but towards his dazed stare— awkwardly coughing into one of your fists and softly tapping your fingernail on the surface of the desk. “Ahem… it’s actually because I was wondering if you… uh, wanted to like, you know, hang out t-together, instead.” The first thing he takes notice of is the way your voice is in a much lighter tone then normal, which he mentally coos at. ‘She’s acting shy now… did I do that to her? Does— does she love me too?’ Giddy, that’s what he found himself feeling— and even though he knows he shouldn’t get so far into his deluded fantasies, he can’t help but to imagine you getting all flustered over him. Him. “We could go to the… movies? That’s always fun. Or maybe we could go to the park, i-if you’d prefer to talk, or something…”

“Like a— a date? You and me? Us? T-together?” Scaramouche has to make sure that he’s not misunderstanding your intentions and jumping to conclusions, because god he would be so upset if he accidentally managed to embarrassed himself in front of you if he happened to be wrong. He gulps down the lump in his throat, and reached up the tug at the collar to his shirt as he had started to feel slightly light headed from this whole ordeal. It can’t just be a regular study session, could it? The term was almost over, and he can’t rack his brain and recall if the professor had assigned any new assignments as of late. (Either there really was no new work to be completed— or he was just too busy staring at you every period and couldn’t bother to listen to the teachers words.)

The thought out you just asking him to hang out like friends would, enters his head— but he’s too delusional to care about that. And you’re so nice that he wouldn’t even think you’re trying to mess with him, there’s no way. Still, you both hang out all the time and you aren’t usually so fidgety and bashful around him, so this… this just has to be you asking him out romantically, right? He hopes so, he hopes so bad that his fantasies are coming to life and he can finally have you all to himself. Hell, he’s shifting around in his seat excitedly just thinking about it.

When you nod shyly in response to his clarification, Scaramouche is one hundred percent sure he would just Aww at just how adorable you look right now— if it weren’t for his heart almost bursting from his chest. This isn’t a dream, it’s real— he‘s sure it is from how much he’s sweating. You like him back, and though it’s a stretch, he thinks there’s a chance that maybe you love him too. You want to date him, to hug him, to kiss him, like he does you? Of course you do, why else would you ask him out. Duh.

He lets out a breath, and you take notice of how shaky it sounds, and how he looks like passing out. “Uh… if you’re sick, we can reschedule, o-or just not go at all if that’s what you pr—” you don’t even get to finish your sentence before he’s straightening up in his chair and whipping his head into your direction, a panic look overtakes his previously dreamy one.

“No, no! I’ll go, I want to!” He interrupts, and waves his arms around in embarrassment, before looking down into his lap shamefully from his sudden outburst. “I mean… I would like that… if you took me out on a d-date. Please.”

“Pftt… okay, Kuni, follow me then.”

He only nods, a love sick smile on his lips as he stands up and trails behind you, reaching for your hand and even forgetting to grab his bag on the way out because of his excitement. Loser 😔

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

out of my league | pedri gonzalez [part vii]

🎓 synopsis: With a little help from your friends, you finally gather the courage to reach out to Pedri, and the two of you have a much-needed, honest conversation. tags: nerd and jock trope, angst, emotional conflict, suggestive content but nothing explicit. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 3k words)

you can read the first part here, or go to the masterlist.

The fluorescent lights in the convenience store feel too bright, too harsh as you walk down the aisle, scanning the shelves for anything to justify being here. You didn’t need to stop in, you don’t even want anything, but walking aimlessly has been your coping mechanism these past couple of days. It’s better than sitting in your room and letting the silence get to you.

To your surprise, Ferran and Pablo are standing by the counter, laughing at something, and your first instinct is to turn around and leave before they notice. But before you can even start moving, Gavi’s eyes dart in your direction. He freezes, then elbows Ferran and tilts his head toward you. You see Ferran look over and you wish you could disappear.

You think about all the times you’ve seen the two of them around campus without them ever noticing you. How you’d blended into the crowd so easily back then, invisible in a way that felt safe. Those were better days.

But now? Now, Pablo is already walking toward you, Ferran groaning but following reluctantly.

“Hey, what’s up?” Gavi greets, his voice too casual for the way your heart is racing.

You nod back shyly, not trusting yourself to speak.

“I just wanted to say,” Gavi continues, raising both hands like he’s about to make some kind of formal declaration, “that, for the record, I think you’re way cooler than her.”

Your lips twitch, but the laugh that escapes is dry and brittle.

“Shut up, bro,” Ferran mutters, rolling his eyes. He looks at you, his tone softer. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” you reply automatically, though the lump in your throat is already forming. You look at the floor, wishing the tiles would just swallow you whole. But the weight of everything pushes down harder and harder, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes are welling up.

“Oh, shit,” Gavi says, his tone shifting immediately. He looks at the sandwich he’s holding, then pulls the napkin off it and offers it to you. “Do you... uh, need this?”

You blink at him, caught completely off guard. You’re not sure whether to cry harder or laugh.

“Umm... no, thanks,” you manage, shaking your head.

Ferran lets out a long-suffering sigh and grabs Pablo by the arm, steering him back a step. “Dude, give her some space.”

Pablo looks at you apologetically, clearly unsure of what to do now. Ferran, at least, seems to understand the awkward tension. “Look,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “If it helps, we all thought that whole thing was messed up. None of that was your fault.”

You want to believe him, but the weight in your chest doesn’t budge. You’re about to stammer out some excuse to leave when Pablo’s face lights up, like he’s just remembered something.

“Also, can you at least call him?” he blurts out, his voice louder than necessary.

“Gavi, bro, shut up,” Ferran says immediately, his tone sharp, clearly uncomfortable with where this is going.

But Pablo isn’t fazed. “He keeps watching The Terminator over and over again, and it’s driving me crazy,” he says, throwing his hands in the air like he’s genuinely exasperated. He turns to Ferran, completely forgetting you’re standing there. “Like, I get it – great movie – but three times in one night? I swear I’m gonna lose it.”

Ferran drags a hand down his face, groaning. “Why are you like this?” he mutters, shaking his head.

You stare at them, frozen. The Terminator. Of all movies. The first time Pedri watched it was with you, sprawled on your bed, now, the thought of him rewatching it alone, over and over, makes your heart break in tiny pieces.

“I – uh, I should go,” you mumble, stepping back toward the door, the urge to escape stronger than ever.

Ferran sighs, giving Pablo a look before turning to you. “Hey,” he says, his voice softer now. “Don’t let this guy get in your head. Just... think about what I said, okay?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to say anything.

As you leave, Pablo calls after you again, but Ferran quickly cuts him off. The door shuts behind you, and the cold air hits your face, grounding you just enough to stop the tears from falling.

But the mention of Pedri lingers. You can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. Ferran’s words echo in your mind, looping in a way that’s equal parts annoying and comforting. It wasn’t your fault. And Pablo’s, too. 

Without fully realizing what you’re doing, you slip your phone out of your pocket, the words just call him bouncing around in your head. Your fingers move almost on autopilot, finding Pedri’s name and hitting the call button.

The line rings once. Twice.

Your breath catches, and panic shoots through you. You fumble to end the call, heart pounding as you stare at the screen. What am I doing? You weren’t even thinking – it’s just that calling him felt so natural, like muscle memory, and now you’ve gone and –

Your phone buzzes in your hand.

Pedri’s name lights up the screen, and for a second, your brain goes blank. He’s calling you back. You freeze, staring at the phone.

It keeps buzzing.

You bite your lip, your thumb hovering over the screen. You could let it go to voicemail. Pretend it never happened. But something in you – the same something that made you call him in the first place – pushes you to answer.

You swipe to accept the call, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Pedri says immediately, his voice cautious, like he’s not sure if you’re going to hang up on him. “You called?”

Your mouth is dry, and it takes a second for you to find your voice. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. It was... a mistake,” you stammer, though even you don’t sound convinced.

There’s a pause, and you hear him exhale. “Oh,” he says, and you can hear the disappointment in his tone. “Right. Okay.”

But then he hesitates. “I’m, uh – I’m glad you picked up, though.”

You blink, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, and you can hear the faintest smile in his voice. “I... I’ve been wanting to call you. I just didn’t know if you’d even want to hear from me.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Your fingers tighten around the phone.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Pedri adds quickly, misreading your silence. “I just – I’m sorry. For everything. For not handling it better. For putting you in that position. For...” He trails off, his voice breaking just a little.

You stop walking, standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, your breath visible in the cold night air. You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself.

“I didn’t call to hear you apologize,” you finally say.

“Then why did you call?” he asks, and there’s something almost hopeful in the way he says it.

You don’t have an answer. Or maybe you do, but you’re not ready to admit it yet. All you know is that hearing his voice makes the ache in your chest feel a little less unbearable.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “I just... I needed to.”

“Okay,” Pedri says after a pause, “That’s a good reason.” He chuckles weakly.

“Why did you say I was your girlfriend?” you blurt out, cutting off whatever he was about to say next. The words pour out of your chest before you can stop them, unfiltered. “At the party. You introduced me as your girlfriend.”

The tears are back, hot and stinging, and you regret not accepting Pablo’s ridiculous offer of his dirty napkin. “You never asked me, you know. We never had that conversation, and I just thought... I thought you didn’t want that. Didn’t want to be serious with me.”

“What? No! I –” Pedri stammers, his voice hitching as if he can’t find the right words. He sounds like he’s hyperventilating a little, and you imagine him pacing back and forth, one hand tugging at his hair. “I just...” He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again, his voice is heavier. “I knew this would happen. I knew.”

You wish you could see him, wish you could reach through the phone and hold him, wipe away both his tears and yours.

“Knew what?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“I knew Melanie would be a problem, and I knew you’d run away from me the first chance you got.”

“I wasn’t running away from you!”

“Yes, you were,” he snaps, his voice breaking. “And I knew you would. Sometimes... sometimes you just look at me like I’m too much trouble. Like I’m a mess you don’t want to deal with. My ex is evil, my friends are jerks, and you don’t like anything about me. And – and I’m in love with you!”

He’s yelling now, and you feel it deep in your chest, you’re yelling back before you even realize it, your voice rising to meet his.

“I’m the one who’s a mess!” you shout, still walking, still pacing the street as the world around you blurs. “People act like I’m your little charity project!”

“People?” His voice cracks, and it hits you that he’s crying too. “Who are you talking about? And forget them – what about you? What do you think? Just tell me, because it’s driving me crazy trying to figure you out!”

You collapse onto the nearest bench, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. One hand swipes at your tear-streaked face, trying in vain to fix the mess you’ve become, while the other grips your phone close to your ear.

“I’m scared,” you whisper, your voice so soft it’s almost swallowed by the noise of the city around you. “I have zero experience with this. And when I met you, you seemed like you had it all figured out. Friends, a girlfriend, a career. I’ve never had any of that. I’m so scared of ruining it.”

“You’re ruining it right now!” Pedri’s voice is raw, hoarse from yelling. “If you don’t want to ruin it, then don’t! Come back to me. Let me in. Please, stop running from me!”

“I’m in love with you too,” you sob, the words tumbling out because you simply can’t hold them in anymore. He needs to know.

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, save for the sound of both of you crying.

“You are?” he asks, his voice cracking.

“I am,” you say, pressing your free hand to your chest, as if that’ll somehow stop your heart from breaking all over again. “I’ve been so scared, but I am.”

“Then come back,” he says softly. “Please.”

part 2

You bang on his door, your fist barely leaving the wood before it swings open. Your chest is still heaving from running the whole way, your legs burning, but none of it matters. You need to see him. 

It hits you as you stand there, heart pounding, that you’ve literally run to him just as often as you’ve metaphorically run away from him. The irony almost makes you laugh, but then the door flies open, and Pedri is right there.

Before you can blink, he’s pulling you into his arms, the door slamming shut behind you. His grip is firm but gentle, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Say it to me,” he says, his voice low, his hands cradling your face. His dark eyes are locked onto yours. “I want to hear it in person.”

You know exactly what he means, what he needs to hear. And so you say it.

“I’m in love with you,” you whisper.

His entire body seems to relax, the tension melting away as if he’s finally allowed himself to breathe. He looks exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes telling you he probably hasn’t slept much since the night of the party, and you realize you probably look the same.

“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and the corners of his mouth curve into a shaky smile before he kisses you. It’s desperate and hungry, but there’s so much love in it, you feel like you’re about to melt into him.

He’s guiding you to his bedroom before you even notice, murmuring a soft, “Sorry it’s a mess,” between kisses. You barely register his words, too consumed by his touch, his taste, the feel of him so close.

But when you look around, you can’t help but laugh. It really is a mess – clothes everywhere, his comforter half-hanging off the bed, empty water bottles scattered on the nightstand. You don’t take your eyes off him, though, even as you laugh.

“Baby, don’t laugh,” he pleads, but he’s grinning too, his forehead resting against yours. “I was so sad.” His voice carries a mock pout, but there’s truth in it. “I couldn’t leave my room for two days!”

“Pablo said you kept watching Terminator,” you confess, your smile widening when Pedri’s face twists into shock.

“What?!” Pedri pulls back just enough to look at you, completely scandalized. “When? Why would he say that to you?”

You’re laughing so hard you have to grab onto his shirt to steady yourself, and then you’re pulling him down with you onto his bed. You fall back onto the mattress, dragging him along, and the next thing you know, his lips are on yours again, silencing any more teasing remarks you might’ve had.

He keeps trying to kiss you and talk at the same time, like he wants to do everything at once. His lips brush against yours, then down your jaw, and between kisses, he murmurs, “I’m going to ask you, okay?” He pauses to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “I’m going to ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You hum in response, but he suddenly stops when he realizes you’re barely paying attention to his words. Your focus is entirely on his torso, your fingers tracing the lines of his six-pack while you press soft kisses to his skin.

“Hey,” he says, as he gently holds your face to make you look at him. His dark eyes shine with amusement. “And you’re going to say yes.”

He leans in to kiss you again, this time longer, slower, leaving you breathless. But just as you’re melting into him, he pulls back to talk again, now fumbling with his belt. “And we’re going to tell Melanie to fuck off.”

You laugh out loud when you see him struggling, trying to multitask and failing spectacularly. He’s kissing you, tugging at his pants, and reaching to hold your hand all at the same time. You start helping him, pushing his hands aside to unbuckle his belt for him.

“Right?” he asks, voice full of hope.

"Right," you nod, breathless for too many reasons to count, and the two of you kiss, again and again and again. His hands are everywhere, they slide under your shirt and pull it over your head. Your confidence falters, insecurity creeping in when you look down at your boring beige bra. You hadn’t exactly planned for your day to end on his bed.

But Pedri shakes his head, already noticing your hesitation. “Don’t be selfish,” he says, as he gestures to his torso. His skin is marked with faint scratches from your nails and the occasional red blotch where your lips lingered. “Your hands are all over me. Let me see you too, come on.”

A wave of shame washes over you, but his eyes don't shift. You want to be good for him, good to him, so you nod and let his fingers slide the straps off your shoulders.

“Selfish girl,” he mumbles, almost to himself, shaking his head as his lips find your collarbone, his hands trailing over your arms and ribs. He takes his time, worshiping every inch of you. “Trying to keep this all away from me.”

You don’t know how to answer him, so instead, you let your hands find their way to his hair, tugging just enough to make him look at you again. 

“Say something,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, more serious, as if he needs the reassurance.

You hesitate, your heart pounding as your fingers trace over his cheek. “I want this,” you say finally, your voice barely audible but steady. “I want this so, so much. Sometimes it's all I can think about.”

His forehead presses against yours, his hands resting on your waist, grounding you both. “Good,” he says softly, “Because I’m not letting you run away again.”

The mess of his room swallows up both your scattered clothes, blending them into the landscape of mess. When he finally enters you, a deep groan escapes him, and you feel his body relax against yours. His breath is hot on your skin as he whispers, “I missed this so much.”

Your heart races, your skin damp with sweat, your body still holding onto its tension despite your efforts to let go. Shifting, you guide him beneath you, trying to turn your nervous energy into something useful, something good.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breathless as your hands find his neck, pulling him into a kiss that’s both an apology and a promise. “I’m not going to be selfish anymore. I’ll give you what you want, Pedri.” Your tone turns teasing as you move on top of him, feeling the smile curve on his lips against yours. His hands trail up your sides, as you both begin to lose yourselves in each other.

[wifelivvyx]

Hey if you're still taking requests could you do something with George Weasley. It's a few years after the war and the reader ask George to come along with her to her friend's wedding because Cormac mclagon is going to be there and she wants an easy way to get him to back off.

When they get to the wedding Cormac starts to hit on the reader and she says that George is her boyfriend and he plays along to get Cormac off her back

It could be completely platonic or it could have a hint of there being something actually romantic between George and the reader

The bells of the quaint countryside chapel rang out as the wedding guests mingled in the sunny garden outside. Y/N adjusted the strap of her dress for what felt like the tenth time, scanning the crowd nervously.

“Relax, you look great,” George Weasley said beside her, his grin lopsided and comforting.

She turned to him, offering a weak smile. “Thanks, George. I just…” She trailed off, her eyes flicking over the crowd.

“Still worried about McLaggen?” George guessed, raising an eyebrow.

“Worried isn’t the word,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “The last time I saw him, he wouldn’t stop pestering me about going out. It took me pretending to be sick to get him to leave me alone.”

George chuckled, his brown eyes twinkling. “And now you’ve got me. Your knight in shining armor.”

She laughed, the sound easing her nerves. “Right. My ‘boyfriend.’ Thanks again for coming along, by the way. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anything for you,” he said lightly, but there was a sincerity in his tone that made her pause for half a second.

Before she could respond, the man in question appeared, striding toward them with a cocky grin plastered on his face.

“Y/N! There you are,” Cormac McLaggen drawled, his arms spreading as though he expected a hug.

George, standing a step closer, instinctively shifted slightly in front of her.

“Cormac,” Y/N greeted, her voice tight but polite.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” McLaggen said, ignoring George entirely. His eyes lingered on Y/N in a way that made her skin crawl. “You look stunning, as always.”

Before she could respond, George slid an arm around her waist, pulling her just a little closer. “Doesn’t she?” he said, his tone casual but with an edge of possession.

McLaggen blinked, finally seeming to notice George. “Weasley. What are you doing here?”

Y/N smiled, leaning into George just enough to make it convincing. “George is my date. My boyfriend, actually.”

The words rolled off her tongue easily, but the subtle tightening of George’s arm around her made her glance up at him. He was watching McLaggen with a look that was far too good to be fake.

“Boyfriend?” McLaggen repeated, his smile faltering. “Since when?”

“Oh, it’s been a while,” George chimed in, grinning widely. “You know how it is—she couldn’t resist my charm.”

Y/N snorted, playing along. “That, and his terrible jokes.”

Cormac’s expression soured, but he quickly forced another smile. “Well, that’s... surprising. You didn’t mention this the last time we spoke, Y/N.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “That’s probably because I didn’t think it was your business.”

“Fair point,” George added cheerfully, giving Y/N a quick kiss on the temple that sent a jolt through her. She hoped it didn’t show. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I promised Y/N a dance before dinner.”

Without waiting for a response, George guided her toward the dance floor, his hand warm against her back.

When they were safely out of earshot, Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “You’re really good at this fake boyfriend thing.”

“Fake?” George teased, spinning her gently into his arms.

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yes, fake. But seriously, thank you. He’s probably going to leave me alone now.”

“Anytime,” he said, his voice softening. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, but the music shifted to a faster tune, and George grinned, pulling her into a playful twirl.

“Come on, let’s give McLaggen something to really be jealous about,” he said, his mischievous tone making her laugh as they danced.

And as they moved across the floor, Y/N couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was something a little less fake about the way George was looking at her.

[angeliqueiguess]

Late-Night Mischief (l.dh)

001. Midnight Shift

w.count:858

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their harsh glow making Y/n feel even more tired than she already was. Midnight shifts weren’t for the faint of heart, but at least they were usually quiet. Quiet meant time to study, and study meant surviving another week without falling behind in her coursework.

She flipped through her notes, trying to concentrate on business ethics, but her brain wasn’t cooperating. All the words started to blur together, and she was dangerously close to giving up for the night when the bell above the door jingled.

In walked someone who did not look like your average midnight-snack customer. He had a mop of brown hair that framed his face in messy waves, paired with sharp, almost fox-like features that made him stand out. His hoodie hung loosely over his lean frame, the sleeves slightly too long, and his dark jeans were cuffed just enough to reveal clean white sneakers.

He strolled toward the freezer aisle with the swagger of someone who had no business being this confident in a convenience store. Hands shoved in his pockets, he whistled a tune slightly off-key as he peered into the ice cream section like it was the Louvre.

Y/n sighed and decided to ignore him. She wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with theatrics tonight.

“Hey,” he called out, voice echoing in the stillness. “Quick question—where do you keep the life-changing ice cream? Asking for a friend.”

Y/n glanced up, unimpressed. “It’s in front of you. If it’s not there, we don’t have it.”

He straightened up, holding a pint of chocolate chip ice cream like he’d just discovered buried treasure. “Wow, that’s the customer service energy I needed tonight. Thanks for that.”

“Anytime,” she replied dryly, already looking back at her notes.

He sauntered to the counter, his grin growing wider with every step. “Chocolate chip. A classic. You can’t go wrong, right?”

Y/n scanned the pint without looking at him. “Sure. If you’re a five-year-old.”

He placed a hand over his heart, mock-offended. “Whoa. Didn’t realize I was dealing with an ice cream snob.”

“I’m just saying,” she said, finally meeting his gaze, “you had all those options, and you went with chocolate chip? Bold choice for someone trying to seem interesting.”

“Oh, I’m interesting,” he shot back, leaning on the counter like they were old friends. His eyes sparkled with mischief, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “More interesting than whatever boring essay you’re working on, guaranteed.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, scanning his face for any hint of self-awareness. He seemed completely unbothered by her unimpressed glare. “Let me guess,” she said, sliding the pint back toward him. “You’re one of those people who says things like ‘I just have good vibes’ and expects that to count as a personality.”

He laughed, the sound soft but infectious. “Daaaaamn. You really came for me there. Okay, your turn. Let me guess—you’re a business major, aren’t you? Super serious, always stressed, kind of a party-pooper and probably hasn’t had ice cream in months because it’s not on the schedule.”

Y/n froze for half a second before recovering. “How’d you know?”

“I’m a vibe reader,” he said, smirking. “It’s a gift. And, you know, the stack of notes you’re drowning in kinda gives it away.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “You’re not as charming as you think.”

“Sure I am,” he said, shamelessly grabbing a plastic spoon from the nearby stand. He tore the lid off the ice cream and dug in right there at the counter.

“You’re eating that here?” Y/n asked, incredulous.

“Obviously.” He took a dramatic bite, closing his eyes like he was in an ice cream commercial. “Midnight ice cream under these fluorescent lights? It’s a vibe.”

She blinked at him. “You’ve got the word vibe on speed dial, huh?”

“It’s versatile,” he shot back with a shrug. “Like me.”

Y/n pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. She refused to let him win. “Some of us are trying to work, you know. Not everyone has time to wax poetic about freezer food.”

“And some of us are trying to make your night less depressing,” he said, waving his spoon at her. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Gee, thanks,” she replied, deadpan.

“I’m Haechan, by the way,” he said, pointing his spoon at her like it was a microphone. “You might want to remember that name. I’m kind of a big deal.”

“Noted,” Y/n muttered, already regretting letting him stay this long.

He grinned at her one last time, his expression equal parts charming and insufferable, before walking toward the door with the pint in hand. As he pushed it open, he called back over his shoulder, “See you around, business major. Don’t miss me too much!”

The door swung shut, leaving Y/n in silence once again. She shook her head, reopening her notebook and trying to refocus on her work.

But as she scribbled down notes, she realized she was still thinking about that stupid brown-haired stranger—and worse, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips. Maybe the night wouldn’t be so boring after all.

prev/next masterlist

angie’s note: hiii! here is the first chapter of this new AU! grrraah i'm so so so excited to post thiss! hope you all love this troublemaker Haechan as much as i loved writing him!!

taglist: @thegracerammy @yewshi @haefelt (let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter)

credits:@strangergraphics (thanks for the divider)