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curtins · 15 hours ago

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MAMA, A DIVA BEHIND YOU! — toji fushiguro sfw!

prologue. → toji loves his son, he really does. unfortunately, young megumi is less than receptive when it comes to toji's efforts to impress the pretty neighbour who just moved into the apartment down the hall.

or five times megumi actively made toji's love life worse. and the one time he actually helped.

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings. megumi is his own warning. mild age gap implied. non sorcerer au, toji is raising megumi on his own. reader has she/her pronouns. nothing else, just shenanigans :) toji gets knocked down a few pegs by his son 😭 mildly ooc toji <3

word count. song inspiration. paper rings — taylor swift

a/n. this is sooo silly and for fun lol 😭 i feel like you can tell this just isn't my genre or writing style 😭

mp3. i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings <3

TOJI FUSHIGURO didn't have a lot of treasures in life. he just wasn't that type of guy. treasures were for people with their lives together — the kind who budgeted for organic vegetables and owned matching socks. toji's list of prized possessions was short: a semi-reliable pay check, a fridge that kept his beer cold on a good day, and the one channel that aired late-night baseball games.

oh, and his kid. megumi fushiguro.

the little brat was the one thing in toji's life he could call a blessing without choking on the word. but lately? toji was seriously considering the logistics of international shipping. could you send a five year old punk to siberia? where was the paperwork for that?

everything had been fine. hell, downright manageable. until you moved in down the hall.

at first, toji didn't give a fuck. neighbours were usually either noisy or nosy, and sometimes the tragic combination of both. the last guy had banged on his door at least once a week, yelling about toji's late-night weightlifting sessions and muttering something about 'quiet hours.'

toji had pegged you for the same. maybe with a yoga met and too many scented candles.

but then, you showed up on his doorstep with a kind smile that could probably light up half the districts in the city. and a polite, sweet, "excuse me, but could you help me with my bed frame?"

and that was it.

the universe must've been real bored, because that was the moment it decided that toji fushiguro — self proclaimed expert on not giving a damn, was going to lose his damn mind like cupid has struck him with the painful arrows of a crush. and he was a goner.

take #1 — my neck, my back

spring in tokyo had come into full bloom, the kind of day where the air smelled faintly of sunshine, and the cherry blossoms drifted around like lazy, little freeloaders. below the apartment complex, the park wasn't much to write home about — a scrappy patch of grass, a couple of benches that looked like they'd seen some shit, and a swing set that squeaked like it had a vendetta against joy.

but for toji? it was good enough.

he'd figured this 'let me show you around because i'm so friendly' outing would be low effort. easy. casual and neighbourly, even. except now, he was leaning against a tree which was far harder than it sounded when his lower back was screaming at him louder than megumi had this morning about brushing his teeth.

but you stood nearby, smiling that damn warm and disarming smile of yours, gently plucking a stray blossom from megumi's messy hair. the kid, for his part, was pointedly ignoring you both, kicking rocks with the type of dedication usually reserved for a brat trying to avoid his homework.

toji cleared his throat, "so, uh, the area's not bad. quiet most of the time. that convenience store over there's open late. great for snacks. or milk. y'know, the owner's a bit of a bitc —"

"why are you standing like that?"

megumi's voice cut through his rehearsed tour like a rusty knife.

toji shot him a sharp glance. a look that screamed: keep your mouth shut, kid.

megumi just tilted his head, all faux innocence, and then delivered the killing blow with those sea-green eyes gleaming in what toji was certain was pure maliciousness, "dad, your back hurts again, doesn’t it?"

toji froze, scrambling for damage control, but you were already pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh. trying. but he could see the corners of your mouth twitching.

"back's fine," toji huffed, straightening up too fast. something in his spine must have popped loud enough to startle a crow off a branch, "solid a rock, hah! good as new."

megumi glanced at his scuffed sneakers, and then back up, "you said it was hard getting off the couch this morning. didn't you say you're old now and falling apart?"

toji's entire soul left his body. the punk was a traitor to a family name. he should have just sent megumi back to the clan long ago.

"don't you have a rock to kick?" he hissed.

"already did all that."

and that was it. your laugh finally burst out, bright and loud, ringing through the little patch of a park. toji found himself staring at you like some idiot in a rom-com who’d just realised he was completely doomed.

"kids, huh?" he muttered, throwing megumi a glare that promised revenge.

"kids," you agreed, eyes still sparkling as you excused yourself, something about leaving a pot on the stove. you gave toji one last look as you turned to go, warm and soft with that lingering amusement.

toji leaned back against the tree once you were gone, letting out a long sigh. megumi was still standing there, kicking the same patch of dirt, as though he were trying to discover unseen archaeological wonders underneath the earth.

"you're lucky i don’t sell you to a circus," toji grumbled under his breath.

megumi didn’t even look up, "you wouldn’t get that much for me."

smart-ass kid.

take #2 — the liar's pants are blazing on fire

walking someone home shouldn't have felt like scaling mount fuji, but toji fushiguro was now sweating bullet. the evening was crisp, the air cool enough to keep him from outright drowning in these stupid nerves, but it helped little.

the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a faint yellow glow over the neighbourhood. nothing fancy — just rows of small apartments with laundry dangling off balconies and the occasional stray cat darting under parked car. it wasn't exactly romantic, but in the soft glow of the spring, it didn't look that bad.

you walked besides him, laughing at some half-assed joke he'd cracked earlier. and damn, toji liked that sound. more than he should've. more than he'd admit to anyone, including himself. now though, the silence had crept back in, and he was left psyching himself up for the move.

just hold her hand, his brain hissed, it's not rocket science. come on, man. no! wait, give her a compliment, call her hot. ugh, idiot. don't say that yet -

his thick fingers flexed awkwardly at this side as he tried to look natural. a valiant losing battle when every nerve in his body screamed, you have one job, fushiguro. don't ruin this.

"dad!"

toji's head snapped up like a startled animal, and there he was. megumi. his kid. his little shadow. gasping, clutching his throat, and staggering toward them like a samurai dying in glorious battle.

"dad! i — i can't breathe!" megumi wheezed, voice raspy as he doubled over in dramatic agony.

toji blinked. what the —

"i think i'm dying!" megumi croaked, collapsing onto the sidewalk with all the subtlety of a boulder tumbling down a hill.

toji sighed, already pinching the bridge of his nose. should’ve known. thid kid had been hanging around that white-haired freak downstairs too much. what had that gojo satoru been teaching him? shakespearean death monologues?

"what is it this time?" toji asked flatly, his voice like gravel.

"maybe, maybe it's the peanuts!" megumi sputtered, clutching his chest now, because why not? "the ones i ate at home! i think i'm allergic!"

toji stared at him, unimpressed. this was the same kid who could inhale salted peanuts by the handful, barely pausing for air, like he was training for some bizarre snack-eating championship.

"you're not allergic," toji deadpanned.

"i think i am!" megumi wheezed, dropping to his knees, his little hands shaking dramatically.

"oh my god!" you gasped, wide-eyed. "should we — i mean, do we need to take him to the hospital? i can drive —"

toji waved a rough hand, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, "nah, kid’s fine. just go on home. i'll handle this."

"but —"

"it's fine," toji insisted, forcing what he hoped was a reassuring smile, even as megumi collapsed onto the pavement like he’d been struck by lightning.

you had hesitated, clearly torn, but eventually nodded, "okay… but call me if you need anything, okay?"

toji nodded, biting back the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. "yeah, yeah. go on."

the second you turned the corner, toji crouched next to his "dying" son, who immediately cracked one eye open and coughed weakly for good measure.

"what the hell was that?" toji grunted, "what did i say about huffing gasoline in the laundry?"

"don't do it."

toji flicked the punk's forehead, "mhm, so?"

megumi shrugged, sitting up and dusting off his pants. "thought i was allergic."

"to peanuts? that shit you eat everyday?"

"better safe than sorry, dad."

toji huffed, ruffling a hand through his choppy black hair. he glanced in the direction you’d gone, muttering under his breath, "you're lucky you’re cute, kid."

the next morning, toji opened his door to find a basket sitting on the mat. a pristine, gingham-lined basket packed with golden, buttery pastries and muffins that smelled like heaven. attached was a note:

for megumi! i hope he’s feeling better!

karmic justice demanded that toji sit down, scarf it entirely, and leave nothing but crumbs for the little brat. he'd earned that much.

take #3 — they didn't get my nose right!

toji fushiguro didn’t get flustered easily. fights? He could eat a punch for breakfast. bills? well, avoidance was a valid financial strategy. but you, sitting on his couch, smiling at him like you’d never met a red flag you didn’t want to rehabilitate, while unpacking groceries for him and megumi? that was uncharted territory.

terrifying.

the apartment was...presentable. which was more than he could say ten minutes before you arrived, when he'd barked at megumi like a drill sergeant to hide every suspicious stain and questionable stack of dishes. now, the faint sting of cleaning spray lingered in the air, and the tiny place almost looked cozy. not that toji would admit it.

"you didn’t have to bring anything," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"oh, it's no trouble!" you chirped, beaming like some kind of saint. "i thought you and megumi might like some fresh vegetables. and i couldn’t resist grabbing some sweets for him."

from the corner of the room, megumi's ears perked up at sweets. he dropped the crayon he’d been chewing (toji pretended not to see it) and padded over, all innocent wide eyes and suspiciously good behaviour.

"dad," megumi started, his tone way too angelic for a kid who regularly schemed like a demonic manga villain, “can i show her my drawing?"

toji utterly froze.

megumi never asked to show off his drawings. usually, he just thrust them into unsuspecting hands like a nosy salesman who couldn't take no for an answer. this? this was premeditated.

"uh," toji grunted, squinting at the kid. "maybe later. she’s busy."

but you, bless your overly trusting heart, smiled and said, "oh, i'd love to see it! i'm sure it's adorable."

toji didn’t even have time to stop him. megumi whipped out a crumpled paper from his pocket like he was smuggling state secrets and handed it to you with an air of triumph.

you unfolded it carefully, and toji wanted to crawl into the walls.

there it was: a chaotic, technicolor mess of lines and smudges.

and centre stage?

a terrifyingly accurate caricature of him labeled "dad," locked in what could only be described as a life-or-death struggle with a rabid raccoon twice his size. above his head, a speech bubble screamed, "no!" while the raccoon yelled back, "mine!"

toji groaned so loud it could’ve registered on the richter scale, "kid. seriously?"

your laughter was instant and loud, the kind that made you clutch your sides and tear up. "this — oh my god, this is amazing!" you wheezed, doubling over.

"it’s not even accurate," toji muttered, crossing his arms, his biceps straining against his shirt like they were trying to leave this embarrassing moment behind. "i won."

"dad didn’t win," megumi piped up, as smug as a kid who’d just blown up his old man’s spot in front of a pretty lady, "the raccoon stole the chips."

"megumi," toji growled, pinning him with a glare that would’ve made lesser beings tremble. the kid just shrugged, popping another crayon into his mouth like this was all part of his five-year master plan.

later, after you’d left, still giggling and promising to "treasure" the drawing, toji leaned over the kitchen table where megumi was innocently snacking on his candy.

'kid," toji said, his voice low and dangerous, "if you ever pull something like that again, i’ll eat your crayons. one by one. and i'll make you watch."

megumi didn’t even flinch, cool as a cucumber, "good luck. i hid all the good ones."

take #4 — take your broke ass home!

the neighborhood festival was the kind of event that came together with duct tape and misplaced enthusiasm. a few janky game booths, a cotton candy machine that looked like it ran on prayers, and a ferris wheel that creaked like it was auditioning for a horror movie. but toji didn’t mind. he had a plan.

this was going to be his moment.

he invited you under the pretense of "fun time" for megumi, but really, it was to show you what a catch he was. buff, capable, ruggedly charming — he was ready to prove it all. what better way than with a little festival bravado? he’d win you a giant stuffed panda or one of those oversized bears that could double as a couch. easy.

you and megumi stood by a booth plastered with painted bullseyes, rows of rubber balls stacked neatly on the counter. toji rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arms just enough to catch your attention. he reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of crumpled cash like he was buying the entire festival, "watch this."

from beside him, megumi crossed his arms. his eyes squinted with the kind of judgment only an six-year-old could muster. then, like a sniper, he fired off the line that would ruin toji's day.

"careful, dad," megumi said, voice loud enough to turn a few heads. "that’s our grocery money for the week."

toji froze mid-reach for the first ball and his jaw clenched. slowly, painfully, he turned to face megumi, who was standing there with a look of angelic smugness.

"megumi," toji growled through gritted teeth, "let's remember who brought you here."

megumi didn’t miss a beat, "oh, right. i'm just worried that dinner tomorrow is soy sauce soup."

"kid’s got jokes," toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his cocky energy now entirely replaced by something closer to "please make this stop."

"oh, i don’t think he’s joking," you teased, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing too hard.

"yeah, definitely not joking," megumi deadpanned, "dad’s gonna start eating protein powder straight from the jar."

"megumi," toji barked, praying for divine intervention that would include his son being carried off by a stork, "you’re grounded."

"for what? telling the truth?"

before toji could escalate into full-on dad-mode, the game attendant — clearly desperate to avoid whatever domestic drama was brewing, handed toji a stuffed panda.

"here, sir, on the house," he said with a strained smile, like he was hoping toji wouldn’t throw a ball through the booth.

toji grabbed the panda and shoved it into your hands with all the grace of a man trying to save face, "here. told you i'd win ya something."

you had just hugged the panda, still grinning ear to ear, "who knew you had a sweet spot? i'll cherish it forever, especially after hearing how hard you worked for it."

megumi, the little bastard, had already wandered off to scope out the cotton candy stand.

toji watched him go, then glanced at you, feeling oddly resigned, "i’m never bringing him to one of these again."

"oh, come on," you said, nudging him playfully, "i'm glad we came. this was fun. besides, he's a sweet kid."

he wondered if you were half-blind, but held his tongue. instead toji groaned, rubbing his temples, 'kid’s not eating for a week."

take #5 — brought the heat back!

it was a quiet thursday evening, the kind of night that lured people into thinking life wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. the sky was fading into a smug sort of pink, and a light breeze was making it just nice enough to forget toji's apartment was a little too warm because he’d cheaped out on air conditioning.

you’d accepted his invitation for dinner, and now here he was, a grown man trying to pretend he wasn’t about to impress the hell out of you with his cooking.

see, toji wasn’t just some dude who could barely boil water. nah, this man knew his way around the kitchen — specifically around a bowl of spicy curry that could win hearts. but he couldn’t let you know that.

toji liked to think that he had a reputation to uphold: rough around the edges, dangerously hot, and way too casual about everything.

so when you walked in, he scratched the back of his head like he’d just thrown the recipe together from a vague memory, muttering, "i dunno, figured i'd try somethin’ new. if it’s bad, there’s takeout."

except this wasn’t new. toji knew exactly what he was doing. his curry was legendary in very specific circles — namely, his own ego.

meanwhile, megumi was hanging around the kitchen like a suspicious little gargoyle, all quiet and sneaky-eyed. that should’ve been the first warning sign.

and when dinner was served, toji had to admit it, it looked perfect. rich, golden curry with just the right balance of spice, heat curling off the plates like a victory lap. hah, an easy win.

you had taken a polite bite, smiling at first. until your face suddenly froze like you'd just been slapped by a fire demon.

"what, it's too spicy?" toji asked, as he watched you struggle to smile. your lips twitching like they were trying to run away.

"no, no!" you wheezed, "it's — it's really good. just got a lil' kick to it, that's all!"

kick? toji blinked. you looked as though you had been delivering a roundhouse to the face.

suspicious now, he scooped up a big bite himself. the moment it hit his tongue, he nearly choked. his sinuses exploded, his tongue went numb, and he could feel sweat instantly forming on his brow.

"what the fuck," he sputtered, slamming down his fork and lunging for his water. toji guzzled it like a man who’d just escaped a desert, while you valiantly kept nibbling as though your dignity depended on it.

megumi, sitting way too calmly at the table, didn’t even flinch. he was eating like the curry was perfectly fine, which made it even worse. this little freak.

toji squinted at his only child, "megumi. what did you do?"

"nothing," the kid said, wide-eyed and dripping with fake innocence. too fake, tsk, toji knew that look. "just...helped with the seasoning."

toji’s stomach dropped, as his blood pressure rose, "how much seasoning?"

megumi shrugged, stabbing at his rice like he wasn’t actively committing a felony, "i dunno. a lot. jus' wanted to be helpful, dad."

"y'trying to kill me? her? yourself?!"

you laughed nervously through the pain, "ah, toji. it’s really not that bad —"

"don’t lie, doll" toji snapped, shooting you a look, "sweatin' like you ran a marathon."

"so are you!" you shot back, snickering. and you weren’t wrong. toji's forehead looked like he’d just finished a full-body workout.

megumi leaned back in his chair, chewing slowly, and said with an infuriating amount of smugness, "i like spicy food."

toji pointed at him, wondering if it would be easier to pick up the kid and launch him out the window, "you better start liking ramen, ‘cause that’s all you’re eating for the next week."

"fine with that," megumi said, clearly unbothered, "isn't that what i eat all the time anyway?”

toji groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair, which now stuck to his forehead in sweaty, choppy strands.hHe turned to you, desperate for some kind of redemption. "this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. it’s normally amazing. i swear."

"it’s fine," you laughed, even as you sipped water like your life depended on it. "honestly, i think it’s kinda cute."

that threw him for a loop. "cute? what’s cute about this? i just served you a bowl of liquid hell."

you grinned, a little too amused for his liking. "it’s the effort."

toji, for once in his life, had no comeback. he just sighed, defeated, and grabbed his phone to order takeout. megumi, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself, even lifting the bowl to his lips to smack away the remnants of the soup that he slurped.

interlude: the peace talks

you’re standing outside toji's dingy apartment building, where even the cracks in the walls look like they’ve seen some things. you’re not entirely sure why you’re here. okay, that’s a lie. you’re absolutely sure— it’s because of him. that rough-edged, broad-shouldered man who can bench press your common sense into oblivion. but of course, you’re telling yourself it’s "just to check in."

totally innocent.

you knock. a few beats of silence, then the door creaks open just wide enough for a face to peek out. it's megumi fushiguro, toji's odd kid, and his expression already screams ugh. the kind of look that says, "what does this clown want?"

"uh, hi," you say, suddenly unsure if you’re allowed to be nervous around a first grader, "is toji here?"

megumi stares at you like you just asked if the sky was plaid, "nope," he says flatly, but doesn’t move. he keeps the door partially open, like he’s either waiting for you to leave or deciding if you’re even worth his time.

"oh. okay, that's fine, i'll just —" you motion vaguely toward the stairs, already regretting this whole situation. but then the kid speaks up.

"why do you wanna see him?" his tone is casual, but his eyes? sharp like sea-glass. too sharp for someone so young. he’s leaning on the doorframe now.

you blink, mind going blank.

"i don’t...i mean, i was just dropping by to say hi. that’s all."

megumi tilts his head, scrutinising you like you’re a suspect in a crime only he knows about, "do you like my dad?"

you choke on what must be your last breath on this earth, "what?! no! i mean, what are you even saying, he's..."

you’re spiralling, and megumi's smug little smirk says he knows it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"sure," he says with a shrug, stepping back into the apartment. he leaves the door wide open like it’s an invitation — or maybe a saw trap. against your better judgment, you follow him in.

megumi plops down on the couch, picking up a laptop like you’re not even there, "you’re not the first," he mutters without looking up.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

he shrugs again, still not meeting your gaze, "just saying, dad’s got... fans." he says it with the kind of disdain only a kid can muster when talking about their parent, "but you’re, like... different."

"different how?" you ask, instantly regretting it. you shouldn’t engage. this is toji's kid, not your personal gossip columnist.

megumi finally looks up, one eyebrow raised, "you don’t seem as dumb as the other ones."

wow. compliment of the century. "that's way harsh. but thanks," you say dryly, crossing your arms. "and here i thought we were bonding."

there’s a flicker of something else in the child's eyes. a glimmer of protectiveness, maybe, "look, i'm just saying...don’t get your hopes up, okay? i don't think my dad's that type of guy."

you frown, perplexed at having this conversation with a child who barely comes up past your waist, "what makes you say that?"

megumi looks like he’s about to launch into a powerpoint presentation on why toji fushiguro Is a walking red flag, but then he stops. his petulant expression shifts, softens, just a little, "i don't anyone to be sad."

and there it is. the kid act drops for a split second, and you see it. he’s not just being a little punk — he's protecting himself. maybe he’s seen toji screw up one too many times, or maybe he’s tired of people coming and going from their lives. either way, you feel a pang of sympathy.

you sit down on the edge of the couch, careful not to invade his space, "i get it,” you say gently, "and i appreciate you looking out for me, and for your father. but...maybe your dad’s not as bad as you think."

megumi snorts, "yeah, right. i think he's a mess."

"well, sometimes messy people need someone to believe in them," you say, surprising even yourself with the honesty in your voice.

he doesn’t respond right away, just stares at the laptop screen like it holds the answers to life. finally, he sighs, closing it with a decisive snap.

"fine. you can...hang out with him. or whatever. i won't pull any dumb shit,” megumi suddenly pauses at the slip of his tongue, “wait, don't tell him i said that word. but if this screws up, i'm saying ‘I told you so."

he sounds like he’s just agreed to let you borrow his favourite video game.

you smile, relieved, "deal."

just then, the front door opens, and in walks toji, all feathery raven hair, sweat-slicked muscles, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder like he’s just conquered a small country. he pauses when he sees you, eyebrows raising in surprise. "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, voice rough but warm.

before you can respond, megumi pipes up from the couch, "we had important business."

megumi watches you leave, your footsteps echoing down the hallway. you turn back once, smiling at toji like he’s just said something funny — or maybe like he’s not completely hopeless. his dad stands in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically relaxed, a satisfied smirk on his face that makes megumi's stomach churn.

how disgusting.

the second the door clicks shut, toji sighs like some kind of romantic hero from the bad drama his dad loves to secretly watch, running a hand through his choppy black hair and scratching at the back of his neck.

"isn't she cute?" coming from a guy who once tried to flirt with a waitress by asking her how many push-ups she thought he could do.

toji disappears into his room, leaving young, burdened megumi stranded on the couch with his thoughts. his dad — the six-foot-four slab of muscle and bad decisions who calls protein shakes "wizard juice" — is clearly falling for you. and honestly? megumi doesn’t hate the idea. you’re nice. you don’t talk down to him like other adults, and you don’t smell like motor oil and regret like toji's usual crowd.

but toji? his dad couldn’t woo a cactus. if this is going to happen, megumi's going to have to step in. it's the responsible thing to do.

he grabs his laptop again, boots it up, and clicks on the email icon with all the gravitas of a general preparing for war.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: hey gojo i need help message: hey gojo i need help.

he hits send, satisfied. within ten minutes, there’s a reply. gojo's always on his computer nowadays, swamped by senior finals.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: hey gojo i need help message: why are u emailing me. i feel weird emailing a six year old.

megumi rolls his eyes. he’s six, not stupid. he definitely thinks he's smarter than gojo satoru.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: i think my dad has a crush.

there’s a pause. megumi imagines goji sitting in his weirdly pristine apartment downstairs, wearing those stupid sunglasses he insists are cool, trying to process what he just read.

the reply comes in two words.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: come downstairs.

then another one.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: let’s debrief. i got cookies.

megumi shuts his laptop, slides off the couch, and heads for the door. it's time someone with real intelligence got involved.

megumi fushiguro sits at the kitchen table, eating rainbow cereal and trying to ignore the way his dad is pacing the room like a stressed-out gorilla. toji fushiguro, a walking, grunting tank of a man, is mumbling under his breath about "women" and "bad timing" and something about his shirt being "too tight." not that his dad has any normal shirts — just those stupid gym shirts.

megumi, as the only person in this house with half a brain cell, knows exactly what’s going on. his dad's got it bad for you.

not that he thinks that his dad would admit it. no, his dad's strategy for dealing with his obvious feelings is to act like a complete idiot whenever you’re around. last time, he dropped a dumbbell on himself while trying to show off. the time before that, he laughed so hard at one of your jokes he spat coffee everywhere. megumi had to clean it up.

so yeah, his dad was hopeless, and apparently, it’s megumi's job to fix it.

but megumi doesn’t think of himself as a matchmaker. he thinks of himself as a tortured genius, forced to live among lesser idiots. and frankly, he doesn’t even like the idea of his dad dating. because that's gross.

but the truth is, megumi's tired of toji stomping around the apartment like a lovesick rhino, and if getting you and his dad together means toji might finally stop asking megumi if his hair looks "cool," then so be it.

he starts small. when you knock on the door that afternoon, megumi answers and blocks the entrance like a bouncer, just like gojo told him to.

"oh, dad's not here again," he says, casual.

your face falls, and megumi immediately clocks it. bingo.

"you're in luck today, lady. wait here," he interrupts, darting inside, "i'll grab him."

except his dad is in there, muttering something about a broken pipe in the kitchen, while tapping furiously on his phone. megumi marches in, hands on his hips.

"i let her in," he announces, like a town crier.

his dad looks up, like a deer caught in the headlights of his own stupidity, "what? why didn’t you tell me? damn punk," he scrambles for a shirt.

"i'm telling you now, dad," megumi says, dully, "also, you’re acting like a weirdo. just go talk to her. ask her out."

toji freezes, halfway into his shirt, "what's gotten into you, kid? gonna drop a knife on me, huh? what am i supposed to say?"

megumi resists the urge to roll his eyes so hard they fall out of his head, "i don't know. say hi to her. maybe don't mention the gym."

his dad frowns, "you're six, punk. what do you know? people like hearing about that shit."

"not normal people."

once toji is finally presentable — or as presentable as a man with permanent bedhead and a scar on his lip can be — megumi ushers him out of the room. then, like the misunderstood mastermind he is, megumi follows quietly, lurking behind the door to eavesdrop.

toji opens the door to find you standing there, fiddling with the strap of your bag. his usual dumb smirk creeps onto his face, "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, leaning on the doorframe like he thinks he’s starring in a cologne commercial.

"yeah, i was just...in the neighborhood," you say, sounding way too nervous for someone who claims this is a casual visit.

megumi winces. they’re hopeless. this is your neighbourhood, too.

toji scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick Megumi’s only seen when he’s trying not to embarrass himself, "well, uh, you wanna come in? i was just... doing some cleaning. we can...talk, or some shit like that."

megumi knows for a fact that there's a lie in toji's words. the only cleaning his dad's ever done is shoving everything into the closet and calling it "organised."

but somehow, it works. you step inside, smiling at him like he just offered you free ice cream. now, that would be a decent offer.

from his spot behind the door, megumi mentally pats himself on the back. phase one: complete. he decides to clock out, flopping back on his rumpled bed to pull his laptop back out, immediately logging back onto his game.

but by the time you leave an hour later, toji looks like he just won the lottery. you’re smiling too, waving awkwardly before heading down the stairs. and ugh, gross! you lean in and press a soft kiss to toji's cheek before you turn.

as soon as the door shuts, toji leans against it and lets out the most ridiculous sigh megumi has ever heard.

"hah, kid. she likes me," his dad says, grinning like a lovesick idiot.

megumi, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, crosses his arms, "that's foul. but no thanks to you."

his dad opens one sharp green eye at him, and scowls. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means," megumi says, feeling a lifetime of bribery for ice-cream excite him, "you owe me. big time."

toji’s standing in the doorway, looking at megumi like he just asked him to join some cult. he scratches the back of his head, giving megumi that look — like he’s trying to figure out what the hell his kid is up to now.

"eh, you look weird today," toji mutters, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. he reaches down and ruffles megumi’s hair like it’s no big deal, making it stick up even more. his hair gets all spiky and untamable, and megumi scowls, smoothing it down, trying (and failing) to get his dark spikes to behave.

"yeah, whatever, dad," megumi mutters under his breath as toji turns and saunters off into his room. toji’s probably about to do a hundred push-ups and gloat to himself. megumi can already hear the dumb grunting from the other room.

as soon as toji’s gone, megumi sits back down at the table, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

for once, the apartment is quiet. no random phone calls, no weird people showing up, no random training sessions that sound more like a one-man wrecking crew than “exercise.” just peace.

it’s bliss.

he takes another bite of cereal, enjoying the calm and the fact that someone else is going to have to deal with toji’s nonsense for once. it’s about time.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: mission accomplished message: it worked. my dad's in love.

a few seconds later, gojo’s reply pops up.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: mission accomplished message: that's great! wanna help me with the guy i like?

megumi squints at the screen, blinking twice. he closes his laptop with all the gravity of someone who has just solved world peace.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: re: mission accomplished message: no.

#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji x you #jjk toji #works

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pomefioredove · 2 days ago

Text

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ requiem of a cringe

did something embarrassing last night and was like "I need to go crawl in a hole and die. OR I could write"

type of post: blurbs characters: cater, rook, jack, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (the term "damsel in distress" is used in vil's part, but it's meant to be teasing and not indicative of the reader's gender), reader is yuu, rook is rook

I. Talks Too Much

It's not that you're trying to be annoying.

Your mouth simply moves faster than your mind, and before you know it, you've been talking for twenty uninterrupted minutes about... well... nothing.

You always notice that uncomfortable, irritated look on their face just after you're done. And then you keep rambling in an attempt to make it less awkward (it never does).

And now you're here, hiding in the hedge maze outside Heartslabyul, thinking about getting lost and never coming out of it.

Of course, if anyone were to find you now, it'd be him.

"Hey, hon~ you busy?"

"Please, not now, Cater," you mutter.

The boy stills, looking a little taken aback by how miserable you sound.

"Are you still upset about that thing at the Unbirthday Party? That was hours ago, babe! I bet no one even remembers,"

You physically cringe. The faces of your uncomfortable tablemates won't seem to leave your memory...

"I remember it," you murmur, burying your face in your hands. "I'm so annoying."

For once, Cater is quiet. A minute goes by, and you think he may have left, until you hear the grass crunching under his knees as he kneels down and pulls you into a hug.

"You are not annoying. And even if you were, it'd only make me like you more," he mutters, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Understand?"

Your surprise at his change in tone doesn't stop you from hugging back. "Understood,"

You hadn't meant to say all of that.

You just spilled a potion you'd been working on for hours, and amidst your frustrated floor-scrubbing, you had vented about your entire week to your poor lab partner, a person you had been trying to impress all semester.

He had, gracefully, let you finish your rant, and then let you sit in it, just like the harmless potion now coating your knees as you cleaned up the floor.

Then, he awkwardly said: "That... sucks. I guess. I don't know what to say,"

There had probably never, in your whole life, been a person who looked more unhappy to be around you.

Afterwards, you found a nice spot in the woods behind campus to die.

You lie there, hoping nature would reclaim you before next alchemy class, when some purposefully loud rustling in the bushes catches your eye.

"Ah, Trickster! You really should not lie like that- a predator will take that as weakness, non? Are you injured?"

"Only my pride,"

"Talking about it will make you feel better," Rook says. It's more of a demand than a question.

You sigh. "I think I've done enough talking for... ever, actually,"

"Nonsense," he suddenly straddles your waist and pins your wrists to the earth. "I will not move until you tell me the problem, mon cœur."

You're like an animal in a snare. Once Rook has made up his mind, that's it. He will find out.

And so, with a sigh, you let him take the kill- that is, you tell him everything. Your whole, terrible week, the potion incident, the look on your lab partner's face...

When you're done, he's just. Smiling. "I see now. You are embarrassed,"

"Well... yes. You don't think that's embarrassing?"

He beams. "You are simply overflowing with beautiful emotion and passion for la vie! How could I ever find that embarrassing? You and I are not so different,"

In a weird way, that makes sense. Rook is never one to let shame hold him back from expressing his feelings.

He smiles at your pensive expression, and gives you a kiss on the head.

"Mais, next time you are upset, maybe you should come to me first, non?"

II. Clumsy

Forgetful, scatterbrained, oblivious, dimwitted are all words you've become used to hearing.

As well as a few colorful swears.

You have two left feet, even when you're not dancing- you're used to walking into walls, tripping, and dropping things- it just sucks that you have an audience now.

The first years that had gathered around the mess you made- tripping over your own feet and spilling the papers you were meant to deliver to Ace and Deuce all over the floor- are watching with grins and phones out.

You pretend they're not there, even with their taunts and whistles and laughter.

"Hey! Loitering is a waste of time!" someone barks. Literally.

You look up to see Jack moving through the crowd, scolding the other first years for blocking the hall.

When he sees you in the eye of the storm, on your hands and knees picking up your spilled papers, something upset takes his usually-stoic demeanor.

"What's the matter with you?!" he snarls at the boys. "Didn't anyone teach you any manners?! It's rude to stare- and laugh!"

His ears are flattened against his head when he kneels down beside you to help, collecting the papers, and putting them in your hands.

"Come on, we'll be late if you keep 'sittin there,"

Jack pulls you to your feet and gives one final snarl to the other first years before walking you off.

"...Thanks,"

"Eh? Don't mention it," he says. "Leona woulda had my tail if I just walked by..."

You know there's more to it than that, but you don't push. You're just happy he's forgotten to take his hand out of yours.

You can't handle being the center of attention.

For good reason, too- you're awkward, clumsy, and about the least graceful a person can get.

A true Ugly Duckling at a place like NRC. But Vil Schoenheit sees the swan in you. Perhaps that's why he's always been so patient and sweet.

It's a little distracting.

So much is obvious when he waves at you in the hall and, distracted by his smile, you walk right into a wall.

Though you can't see anything but stars after falling on your butt, the stares and snickers of everyone else are hard to miss.

Vil glares them away with a look that could kill twice over, and then stands over you as you lay on the floor.

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand. "I'll check you for concussion."

He brings you to Pomefiore and sits you down, shooing off a few curious underclassmen as he checks your pupils. "Do you feel nauseous?"

"Not really,"

"Then you'll be fine. Just a bump. You really should be more careful, though,"

You've heard that one before. Vil smiles at your dazed expression, and presses a cold compress against your head.

"This will help with the swelling,"

"Thanks," you mutter, still a little out of it. "You're my hero."

His eyebrows raise in true surprise, and then he chuckles. "And that makes you a damsel in distress?"

He doesn't give you a chance to respond before taking away the compress and kissing the red mark on your head.

"Don't think that being so cute is going to distract me. I'll make some time for lessons on poise this weekend,"

III. Unsociable

You'd think that being quiet and staying out of people's ways would get them to leave you alone, but it really just attracts more attention.

And after a grueling period of your tablemates making you the butt of every joke ("wow, I didn't know you could even talk!" "are you quiet because you hate us? come onnn, you can tell me!") you were ready to bury yourself alive.

"I don't ever want to leave," You mumble into the bundle of sheets and blankets on Idia's unmade bed.

"You could stay, y'know," Idia says from his desk, mindlessly scrolling through some gaming forum. "I should blackmail Crowley into letting you stay down here at least half the year."

"Couldn't it be the whole?"

"Nah. You need like, sunlight and stuff,"

"And you don't?!"

Idia snickers. "I'm built different. You know that. I get all my nutrients from blue light... You could at least stay for the weekend, though,"

You roll your eyes.

"...And I'll leak those normies' data. I'm sure I could get into their browser histories and have that emailed to their parents,"

Hm. You genuinely consider it for a moment, but eventually decide to give mercy. You're basically a saint.

"I think I just wanna pretend like I don't exist right now,"

Idia nods in understanding and pushes his gaming chair over to the edge of the bed, before crawling in and wrapping himself around you.

"That can be done. Pancakes tomorrow?"

Sure, there were people who talked to you, but you didn't talk back.

You just don't know how, you suppose. Every time you try, you end up saying the wrong thing, or are accidentally rude, or do something embarrassing.

You don't understand the references people make. You don't get social cues or hints. You have the social skills of an oyster.

Four months at Night Raven College, and you didn't have a single friend.

Well- except for him.

"How are you enjoying your tea?" Malleus asks, polite and curt as ever.

You take another sip- it's tangy, sweet, with a hint of bitterness. Some sort of Briar Valley blend that Malleus had imported just for you.

"I really like it,"

He smiles. "I'm pleased,"

One of the things you find so agreeable about Malleus is his simplicity. He often says exactly what he means; albeit, in a sort of 13th century Lord sort of way.

There's less stress with him. You don't have to pretend to be interesting, or outgoing, or cool. You can just be... you.

Because he likes you.

"You know," you say with a faint smile. "You're so nice to me. Sometimes I think that you're the only person I need. I could be happy with just you for the rest of my life."

You had meant that casually, but when you look back up from your cup, Malleus has this... look.

Wide-eyed, his lips pressed firmly together. There's even a dusting of color on his cheeks.

"Oh," you internally panic. Was that too much? Was that weird? Did you make things awkward again? Crap, you should have just acted normal, what's wrong with you?! "S-sorry, I-"

"Do you truly mean that?"

You go quiet, looking back at him with wide eyes. Your heart is pounding against your chest.

"...Yes,"

Malleus hums, his expression becoming more... pensive, and then...

He smiles. "I feel the same. Shall we go for a walk while the night is still young?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #cater diamond x reader #rook hunt x reader #jack howl x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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p0orbaby · 2 days ago

Note

Hey, can you maybe write something about reader surprising Leah? Reader been away for work for a while & Leah’s really missed her. Reader comes back early to surprise leah at a family meal/after a game or something?

You can hear Leah before you see her. Her voice carries through her mum’s kitchen like a melody she’s been rehearsing all week, familiar and warm, laced with the faintest edge of exasperation.

“It’s not that bad, Mum,” she says, and you picture her perched on the counter, half-smiling, half-defensive, probably swinging her legs like a kid. “I’ll eat it, just—maybe not right now”

Her mum’s voice floats back, mock-indignant: “You said you wanted stew!”

“I didn’t mean one that could double as glue!”

It’s such a quintessential Leah moment that you almost forget why you’re here. Almost.

You linger in the hallway, setting your bag down quietly so they don’t hear you. The house smells like something vaguely burnt but not unpleasant, and it feels like home in a way that’s entirely unfair for a place you’ve barely spent time in.

“She’s still not back, huh?” Leah’s brother says from the dining table. You peek through the doorframe and see him fiddling with his phone, half paying attention.

Leah shrugs, but her face gives her away. “Nah. Still working”

There’s something in her tone that makes your chest tighten—soft, wistful, like she’s trying to sound indifferent and failing miserably. She looks tired in the way you only get when you’re waiting for something—or someone—and you don’t know when it’ll happen.

Well, she’s about to find out.

You step into the room, the floor creaking just enough to give you away. Leah glances up, her eyes landing on you with that split-second hesitation of disbelief before they widen.

“What the—” She doesn’t even finish the sentence.

Her family looks between you and Leah like they’ve stumbled into the climax of a romcom. Her mum’s face breaks into a grin. “Oh, you’re in trouble now,” she says, more amused than concerned.

You drop your keys on the table and hold your arms out. “Surprise?”

Leah doesn’t move at first. She just stares at you, blinking like you might vanish if she blinks too hard. Then she’s off the counter and across the room in a flash, her arms wrapping around you so tightly you think she might actually crack a rib.

“You’re home,” she mumbles into your shoulder, and it’s not a question. It’s a statement, a fact, like she needs to say it out loud to believe it.

You grin against her hair, letting her squeeze you like a stress ball. “Miss me?”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. “Shut up.”

“You’re gonna cry, aren’t you?” you tease, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“I am not gonna cry,” she says, even though she very much looks like she might.

Her brother snorts. “She was sulking for days, by the way. Wouldn’t shut up about—”

“Shut it, Jacob,” Leah snaps, though her face is still buried in your neck, so the effect is slightly ruined.

Her mum pats her on the back as she passes by with a fresh glass of wine. “I think you owe me for sitting through her mood swings”

“I’ll send flowers,” you quip, and Leah pinches your side in retaliation.

The rest of the night is a blur of laughter, teasing, and Leah not letting go of your hand even once. When the meal is over and everyone’s settled into the sofa for a film, she tugs you aside, her voice soft.

“I really missed you”

“I know.” You kiss her, your grin melting into something softer. “I missed you too”

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso x reader

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 days ago

Note

Determined heroes and the villains obsessed with them are my absolute weakness, esp when the hero is absolutely at their mercy. You write protagonist/antagonist so well, thank you for sharing!! Once life stuff settles I want to be a patron again!

"You simply don't give up, do you?"

The hero panted for breath, but still couldn't seem to draw enough air into their heaving chest to reply. They doubled over, bracing one hand against the wall. At least, currently, it looked like a wall. They mustered a glare for the villain.

"You're in my domain, sweetness," the villain said, unbothered. "The only exit you have is the one I give you. You could run five marathons and still not find the way out."

"Then give me an exit!"

"When I get bored, of course."

Abruptly, the wall beneath the hero's hand shimmered and shifted, reality bending nauseatingly to something else. Instead of the endless fancy hotel corridors that the hero had started with, they were suddenly stumbling off-balance into a big squashy armchair. Its softness enveloped the hero on every side, whispering reprieve, a relief for their aching muscles.

They were in an old-fashioned library, filled with dark winding bookcases and honeyed light flowing still and golden through enormous windows. A roaring fireplace sprung to life, filling the room with a welcoming crackle.

"Or would you prefer outside?" The villain raised a hand to snap their fingers, in offer. "Are we feeling more brisk, fresh autumn air or sunny beach vibes?"

"I'd prefer you let me go."

"Well, we both know that, but in the absence of me granting that particular wish, you may wish to play along. Unless you'd prefer I get cross about you trying to run? Maybe create something to actually chase you while you're all tuckered out? All labyrinths have their minotaurs, my dear. Would you like to meet mine?"

No. No, absolutely not.

The hero swallowed. They considered their options for a moment, trying to decide if any particular setting would give them an advantage when reality itself seemed so smittenly under the villain's control.

"...outside would be nice," they said. "What's the best view you've got?"

The villain smiled and snapped their fingers.

The armchair stayed, as did the library shelves, but the walls around them fell flat like an unpacked box and crumbled, transforming into a sweeping bio-luminescent ocean. It was unlike anything the hero had ever seen. It barely seemed like something that could be seen on earth! They glanced up to find an expansive swirl of aurora shading a perfectly clear starry night with bright pinks and greens. The stars, themselves, were nonsense. Nothing like the formations of the world the hero knew.

The hero's breath caught, eyes going wide.

A steaming cup-and-saucer of hot cocoa popped into existence by their left elbow. They could smell the chocolate, sweet as it mixed with the salt of the water around them. A dizzying display of casual power.

"Okay, that's good," the hero allowed. "I'll give you that."

"Only the best for my honoured guest."

The villain sat themselves down opposite, though instead of a squashy armchair they had an elaborate but comfortable looking throne.

"How long does it usually take you to get bored?" the hero asked. "Because, you know, I've learned my lesson."

"Oh?"

"It's ridiculous to try and fight you."

"You're fighting me right now, in your way. Trying to convince a god to give you what you want. Trying your luck."

"You're not a god."

"No, gods are a cute mortal inventions. But I thought the comparison might make sense to you."

The hero's stomach squeezed. Another glance at the sky, at the calm waters of an eternally stretching sea, had them gathering more details. Namely that if this entire universe had an orbit, a centre of gravity, it was the hero's unassuming armchair. Or, worse, the hero themselves.

They turned their attention back to the villain, as if everything around them wasn't in some way the villain.

"Okay," the hero said. "Then surely gods, for want of a better word, have better things to do than sitting with me. Isn't this a bit like having hot chocolate with an ant?"

"But a very charming ant."

"We're more charming outside of captivity. Could do dinner."

"See," the villain cooed. "You just don't give up! This is why I knew I simply had to meet you. And I know you wanted to meet me. You've been trying so hard to find me, out in your little world."

"Is that a no to dinner?"

An elaborate banquet table replaced the library shelves.

"That's not real food," the hero said, with as much surety as they could muster. "You know I can't live on air and fairytales, yeah? If you keep me here forever, or until you get bored, I'll starve."

"Which do you think will happen first?"

"Excuse me?"

"Forever. Or me getting bored of you. Which will come first?"

"Forever, probably, is the vibe I'm currently getting."

The villain laughed, so the hero assumed they'd given the correct answer. It was...it was terrifying. More terrifying was the fact that a small part of the hero wanted to be flattered. They'd never had a universe literally revolve around them before.

The hero took a sip of the cocoa, out of some dangerous, dubious curiosity. It tasted like a childhood memory. Safety as the nights drew in. There was no safety from the abyss they were talking to, though, was there? Not really.

"If this is your domain, then this is...you," the hero said. "Which means if I were to find a way to beat you, it would be here. Seems risky to let me so close."

The villain's smile grew, like they knew something that the hero didn't.

"And you're probably not going to let me die," the hero reasoned, "no matter what I do. Even if you set a minotaur on me, or whatever."

The villain shrugged. "Why kill you when I could stretch your entrails like strawberry laces and hang you up in my study like Christmas lights?"

"Wouldn't that kill me?"

"Not here. Not if I don't want it to. It would hurt, though."

"Most people stomp ants. Especially the biting kind."

"Do you want me to kill you?"

"No. I'm just trying to understand what this...is."

"I believe humans call it 'seduction.'"

The hero nearly choked on the cocoa. They carefully set their drink aside, noting the little clink it made despite themselves. Real. Disturbingly real.

"Seduction is trapping me in your domain?" the hero asked.

"Many of the great love stories start with forced proximity."

"Less start with Stockholm Syndrome."

"And less still involve the two of us," the villain said cheerily. "But isn't the novelty exciting? You like what I can do. You said it was good."

"I meant that it was impressive."

"I am. As are you. A perfect fit."

"Are ants impressive?"

"You made the ant comparison, not me."

The hero studied them.

"Drink your cocoa," the villain said, rolling their eyes, oh so indulgent. "I'll let you go eventually. Unharmed."

"When you get bored."

"Before you starve to death. That would be far too mundane an end to our game."

That was...something. Even if it seemed too easy. Even if it seemed like no promise whatsoever that the villain wouldn't end up drawing them into their domain again. In the real world, surely, the hero could win. They could fight cultists. But that still left this. Them.

"Do you promise? That you'll let me go?"

"Promises," the villain mused. "That's almost as cute an invocation as gods. Very well." They leaned in, eyes bright, smile turning to a grin revealing dozens upon dozens of sharp teeth. "I promise."

Surrounded by sea and stars on every side, with no conceivable way to run, the hero could only hope they meant it.

#hero x villain #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #heroes #villains #fantasy #idk

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freeabortionslol · 3 days ago

Text

lake house bunny (jack hughes x bsf!reader)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

summary: kinda love triangle (quinn hughes), bsfs to lovers, smut with plot, quinn's new gf tries to get under your skin by pushing you and jack tg, pining (from jack), reader uses the nickname 'bunny', trevor and cole are heavily incorporated in the plot (bc who doesn't love them) warnings!! NSFW, heated makeout, fingering, cursing, drinking, angst, use of the word 'slut', quinn being an asshole a/n: first time writing NSFW ahh! (pls don't judge if u think its bad. I tried.) this has been sitting in my drafts forever. this kinda fits in with the lake house gc (if you like this you should def read those in my master list) BUT it's not canon in the series. I tried my hardest to not make reader seem like a pick me girl but I fear she kind of is. let me preface by saying, I DO NOT CONDONE SLUT SHAMING!! just bc ur jealous doesn't mean you have a right to talk shit on the new girl. also, I can't stand people who hate on other people for 'being too nice' but reader DEFINITELY has her reasons to be suspicious. anyways, happy reading :) -mars wc: 9.6k

18+ content // minors dni

“This is disgusting.” you sat on the boat, arms crossed next to Jack as you glared over at Quinn and his new girlfriend, Adelaide. He was driving the boat with her perched in his lap. Her hands wrapped around him, while he had one on the wheel with the other on her thigh. Your blood boiled at the sight. All you could think of was how much you longed to be the one wrapped around him like you used to.

“Yeah, she’s a slut.” Jack whispered into your ear, eliciting a soft laugh from you. You and Jack had always shared a close bond, one that felt especially strong in the lake house. He was your rock, the one person you could always rely on. Jack knew since you were kids how much you liked Quinn, and he couldn’t help gaining a jealous eye when he saw the two of you together. You never knew how much he actually cared about you, as you were too wrapped up in trying to get Quinn to even just look at you. Since you were teenagers, it’s felt like a game. Quinn would give you the smallest amount of attention and flirtation, then he would ignore you. The cycle repeated throughout every summer at the lake house. You let your arms fall to your side, glancing over to Luke trying to surf the wakeboard as Trevor and Cole cheered him on. You turned your attention to your feet, trying not to look at the eye sore that sat at the wheel.

You sighed, glancing over to Jack who had moved his sunglasses to the top of his head. “You know the worst part is, she’s not a slut. She’s really nice and funny. I actually like her, and I want to hate her so bad.” Jack gave you an empathetic smile, and you couldn’t help but gaze back at the couple. You rested your elbows on your knees, letting your face fall into your hands as you stared. Jack hated seeing you in this state, and he hated his brother more for making you feel like this. He didn’t actually hate his brother, but he couldn’t help but let his anger take over when Quinn was messing with you like this. Jack sighed, looking over to his brother who was laughing with Adelaide, probably about something that wasn’t nearly as funny as the things you said. He looked back to you who had sad eyes as you watched the scene in front of you.

Jack huffed his breath, causing you to turn your attention towards him. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, noticing the tension in his jaw as he turned to you, worry evident in his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” he replied, but you could tell he was anything but. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Jack decided to do exactly what Jack Hughes was expected to do in the moment of his best friend’s misery. In a sudden burst of determination, he leaned over and pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you in one swift motion.

“Jack, what are you doing?” You said with a soft smile, your body instinctively relaxing against him.

“Lifting your spirits.” He smiled, placing one hand on your back and the other on your thigh to pull you in closer. You moved one of your arms around his neck, your free hand landing on his bicep, grazing his bare skin with your thumb. The simple touch sent shivers through his body as he tried to keep himself content. You moved your head to look over to Quinn, but Jack grabbed your chin, shifting your gaze back to himself. “Don’t look at them. Look at me.” You graced him with a small half smile, as you leaned further into his touch. “Pretend I just said something funny.”

You rolled your eyes, your tone flat as you spoke. “Haha, Jack! You’re hilarious!” Jack cracked a smile and burst out laughing at your attempt to fake a laugh. Your laughs quickly went from fake to real in an instant. Jack blushed at the sound, pulling you in closer. The two of you carried on in conversation, laughing with each other, and you eventually found your head resting on his shoulder. You were being more touchy with him than normal, in an attempt to make Quinn jealous. Jack was fine with this, welcomed it even, but a part of him felt bad for playing into your vulnerability. While you were in the middle of animatedly telling Jack a story about work, Adelaide’s attention caught sight. She tilted her head and smiled, watching the two of you interact.

“They’re so cute together.” She remarked, drawing Quinn’s attention away from the water. He shifted his gaze, eyes darkening at the sight of you wrapped around his brother. He simply scoffed and returned his glare to the water, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous watching the two of you touch each other like that. He was so used to having you follow him around like a puppy, he didn’t think about the consequences of bringing a girl to the lake house. He kept his eyes on the water trying his best not to look at the two of you, when he heard Adelaide's phone camera shutter.

“Did you just take a picture of them?” He asked, glancing over to her.

“Yeah, it’s just a cute photo. They’ll want it.” She brushed him off with her hand, pointing his sight back to the water.

“Okay. Just don’t post it or share it anywhere. They like to keep their personal lives private.” She agreed and the two of them went back to cuddling in the captain's chair. You were too wrapped up in Jack to even notice Quinn and Adelaide anymore. The two of you were laughing about old times, squeezed into each other. You couldn’t help but lean into the comfortable touch of Jack, who was holding you with such care. The way he rubbed his thumb against your skin and squeezed your thigh, made your body tingle in a way that it had never before. You and Jack were always touchy and affectionate with each other. It’s the kind of friendship you had, but it was never like this. This felt like Jack was being possessive, and you wouldn’t admit it, but you liked it. You noticed the way he would squeeze your thigh whenever he caught Quinn looking as if to say, “She’s mine. You can’t have her.” In his head, he thought no other man should be able to look at you on the boat like he did. He admired the way your skin shone from the sun under your baby blue bikini, the way your bun slightly tugged at your scalp when you laughed, and the way your cherry red lips smiled down at him when he said something cheeky. This beautifully painted picture was for him and him only. He wanted Quinn to know that. Even if he thought you were only doing this to get a rise out of Quinn, Jack looked at it as a distraction from the sadness of the situation for you. He felt a sense of protection over you from Quinn, being an audience member to your little routine every summer. He never wanted you to get hurt because even if he had deep feelings for you, you were still his best friend.

As the sun began to set, Quinn pulled the boat into the dock. He and Adelaide stepped off first, hand in hand, with Luke and Trevor following close behind. Cole walked over to you and Jack who had coincidentally fallen asleep on each other. His grip on your waist was still tight as you rested your head on his shoulder. His head had fallen onto yours, mouth parted slightly as the two of you slept peacefully. You were both rudely awakened by the sound of Cole clapping his hands together in front of your faces.

“Rise and shine dickheads.” You slowly opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the sudden light. Jack woke up beneath you, rubbing his eyes as he unwrapped his arms from around you. You quickly got back on your feet, Jack following behind you as you both lazily stepped off the boat. “Gotta stay alive for the party, princess.” Cole placed his hands on your shoulders, guiding you off the dock. Jack walked closely, ready to snatch you away from Cole’s grip in a millisecond. He noticed the way you covered your arms with your hands as goosebumps grew across your body, without a thought behind his eyes he immediately handed you his warm shirt that had been drying under the sun for hours. You sent him a gratitude filled smile as you slipped on the shirt, feeling instantly warmer. Jack didn’t stop there, he put his arm around your waist, pulling you close, subtly hinting to Cole that this wasn’t a friendly touch anymore. Jack was actually trying to reel you in like he said he’d do years ago. The three of you broke off into your separate rooms to begin getting ready for the annual party thrown by Jack and Quinn. You were dreading the party this year, having to be crammed in the basement surrounded by Quinn’s teammates, you were just thankful that some of the Devils would be there too. As you stepped into the shower, you let the warm water entrap your body, washing away the weight of the day. You stayed still for a second just letting the shower pour down on you, grateful that your horrible boat ride had come to an end. Watching her and Quinn felt worse than actual torture. It wasn’t even the fact that you had feelings for him, because if you were being honest they weren’t extremely strong, it was the fact that he could be so loving and good to her and not you. For years Quinn has led you on and brought you down over and over again, and here he is playing wife and husband with some bunny he met on a roadie. I must be the problem, you thought to yourself, and unfortunately that idea would stick. You exited the shower, slipping a towel over your frame, leaving the bathroom quickly. You entered the bedroom only to see Adelaide sitting at the vanity curling her hair and doing her makeup. You had completely forgotten that you had to share a room with her this summer, considering Ellen and Jim wouldn’t let couples share rooms in their lake house. It didn’t matter if you were adults, the rules were if you aren’t engaged or married, you can’t sleep together.

“Oh hey, Y/n!” She turned her attention from the mirror over to you in your towel. You simply waved to her wearing an awkward smile. She was really nice, almost too nice. “You and Jack looked really cute on the boat today.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled, not knowing what else to say. You rushed to your dresser, pulling a pair of panties from the drawer before heading to the closet to grab your sundress. The silence was deafening and awkward. In her head, Adelaide wanted to talk to you, but she could sense your tenseness. You however, couldn’t speak to her. You were afraid that you would talk too much and accidentally let too much slip about you and Quinn, or maybe she would start talking about how great he was. That was bound to bring you to tears. You decided at that moment to exit the room, feeling uncomfortable undressing in front of her. Sure, she was a girl, but you barely knew her, and the thought of her judging you made your whole body cringe. You left the room, wrapped in your towel, walking through the halls until you made your way to Jack’s room. You knocked on it twice before hearing a faint “Come in.” Pushing the door open, you found Jack, Cole, and Trevor sprawled out on the bed, their attention fixed on their phones. They were already dressed in their clothes for the party, and you couldn’t help but notice how sharp Jack looked in his fitted white polo and jeans, his hair slightly tousled. You stomped over to the bed, tossing your clothes onto the floor before flopping down on the edge next to Cole’s feet, resting your head against Jack’s thigh.

“What's got you down, Bunny?” Trevor asked, tearing his gaze from his screen.

You sighed dramatically, covering your face with your hands. “I hate her.”

“Hate who?” Cole questioned, glancing over.

“Quinny’s new girlfriend.” Jack said, running a hand over your wet hair. “You don’t hate her, B. You told me yourself.”

“Ugh! But I want to!” You flopped your arms down in frustration. “It’s just so frustrating.” You sat up to face Jack, making sure your towel was securely wrapped around you. “Do you know how difficult it is to watch someone that's hurt you over and over again, treat some random person like she’s his wife right in front of you?”

Jack laughed, pulling your towel up to your chest that had slightly fallen down. “Can’t say that I have. Not the universal experience you think it is.” You rolled your eyes, pouting your lips slightly at Jack’s absence of understandment.

“Yeah, why don’t you go talk to Addy about it.” Trevor said her name mockingly which caused you to whip your head over to him.

“Say her name again.” You warned, squinting your eyes at him.

Trevor’s face flushed quickly as he tried to quickly pull himself from the situation “Addy.” He said normally.

“Nuh uh. That’s not how you said it!” You shifted your body closer to Trevor, now invading his space. “You don’t like her!” Trevor’s eyes widened in fear.

“T-that's not true. I like everyone! Everyone is my friend.” He let out a nervous laugh before widening his eyes again at the sight of your stare. You stared at him intimidatingly with a small smile, knowing he would eventually crack. “Fine! I don’t like her!” Trevor buried his face in his hands.

“Yes!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms up in triumph as groans emerged from Jack and Cole.

“Great going, Trev. Told you not to say anything.” Cole smacked the side of Trevor’s head.

“You’re just feeding into her delusions.” Jack huffed out.

“Well, you guys are both fine with her, I can’t stand her! Apparently, Bunny can’t either, so allies.” You gave Trevor a fist bump, earning more groans from the boys. “I-I can’t help it! She cornered me and talked about her new Dior makeup set for like an hour!”

You gasped in disbelief “She uses dior?” Trevor nodded his head with wide eyes. “That rich skank!”

“Exactly! Then, she starts bragging to me about all the things Quinn buys her, like I'm supposed to be jealous. ME. TREVOR ZEGRAS.”

You let out a slight laugh, now lying against the headboard in between Trevor and Cole. “Oh my god. She sucks.”

“No, no, no, no.” Jack interjected. “Bunny, Trevor is filling your head with garbage.” Jack scoffed, sending Trevor a glare before turning his attention back to you. “You’re only saying this stuff because he’s giving you a reason. You know that when you start talking to her again, you’ll forget this conversation ever happened and you’ll be back to being sad because you like her so much.” You whipped your head back over to Jack, indignation written all over your face.

“You called her a slut on the boat!” You pointed at him, gasps escaping from Trevor and Cole.

“Wh- I Di- I was trying to make you feel better!” Jack whisper yelled. Cole shifted in his seat, becoming more interested in the conversation.

“Jacky doesn’t like her either!” Trevor began to laugh, causing a smug smile to wipe across your face. “Admit it, Hughes. You don’t like your big brother’s ‘slut’ girlfriend.” Trevor let out, moving closer to you on the bed.

“She just seems…” He sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. “Too good to be true. Like she’s too nice.” You clapped your hands together in excitement, sitting up in your seat.

“That’s exactly what I'm talking about! It seems fake!” You yelled.

Jack rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help chuckling. “Like, I handed her a drink from the cooler and she said ‘Thank you so much Jack! This is amazing. You’re the best ever.’ Who is that happy to drink a Whiteclaw?” He mocked her voice with a high-pitched tone.

“She just seems too polished,” Trevor added, nodding his head. “Like she’s trying to win the girlfriend of the year award.”

Cole leaned back tossing a glance at you “Yeah you wouldn’t catch her dead hanging out with us on the bed in a towel.” You shifted from your position off the bed, signaling the boys to cover their eyes so you could get changed. You turned around, dropping the towel before putting on your dress.

“No, I get it, Jack. She came up to me before we got on the boat, looked me up and down, and said ‘ugh I wish I had your confidence’” Several “oooh”s and hisses from the teeth emerged from the boys. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back it was pretty backhanded.” You said, slipping the straps of your dress up to your shoulders.

“How do I look?” You asked, spinning around as the boys uncovered their eyes, jaws dropping at the sight of you in your checker-patterned red dress. Trevor let out a low whistle as Cole clapped his hands in approval. Jack's gaze lingered over you for a moment longer. His eyes tracing up and down the dress that he had bought you last year on your birthday, wanting nothing more than to rip it off. You walked back over to the bed and Jack quickly sat up, taking the hem of your dress in his hand.

“You look beautiful as always.” He sent you a smile that made your heart race in an instant. Cole and Trevor side exchanged knowing glances with a slight smirk at the interaction. You smiled down at him, ruffling his hair as your cheeks flushed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

An hour into the party, things were finally starting to settle in. You had taken shot after shot, doing your best to forget about the simmering situation in front of you. Quinn and Adelaide were sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around each other as they talked to Elias and Brock. That used to be you. You loved those guys and you missed talking to them, but they were Quinn’s friends, not yours. You were too drunk to even care when Luke pulled you away from your glare to a clearer area of the room. Everything was a blur. You were all smiles and laughs as Luke pulled you closer to him to dance to Pink Pony Club. You were on aux of course, the boys knew it was the only way you would have it. Luke had one hand on his beer and the other on yours as he spun you around. You laughed gracefully as you flopped against him while he jumped around. He set his beer on the table next to him, taking both your hands in his as he moved your arms back and forth. He stuck his tongue out as he jumped, moving closer as you laughed, leaning into him.

“Hey! is that girl looking at us?” He yelled into your ear, picking his beer up from the table.

You looked over your shoulder to see a small brunette girl who was eyeing Luke as she took a sip of her drink.

“Yeah.” You yelled back, a smile growing across your face at Luke’s excitement. “Go get em’ Lukey!” You pushed him away, towards the girl. He immediately got flustered and whatever drunk confidence he had, had suddenly left his body entirely as he went to speak to her. You laughed at the interaction and made your way towards the kitchen, settling yourself next to Nico the moment you caught sight of him. You hopped onto the counter, Nico having to spot you with his hands as you stumbled. You grabbed the side of his head, pulling his ear close to your lips.

“Grab me another drink?” You asked loudly. Nico turned to face you, laughing at your eyes that were lazily falling closed.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to give you some sense of reality. “How about a water?” You grinned wide and nodded your head slowly at him. He smiled and walked off to get you a glass. You stayed on the counter, letting your gaze fall to Quinn and Adelaide yet again. They were standing in a circle, his arms wrapped around her as she chatted with Bella Boeser. You had always been good friends with Bella at social events like these. The two of you would manage to find each other and chat in a corner while Quinn and Brock were off entertaining their friends. It occurred to you in that moment, Bella hadn’t come up to you at all tonight. She seemed much more interested in Adelaide and her attempts at kindness. You felt a wave of sadness wash over you as you realized that this girl was quite literally taking everyone from you.

“Stop gawking over the Canucks.” Nico walked up, handing you the water before draping an arm around your shoulders. “Being a Devils girl is way better.” You laughed at what you assumed to be an attempt at flirtation, but you were very wrong. “You're lucky your boyfriend is on our team and not theirs.” You nearly spit out the water in your mouth, turning your head to Nico with a stern look.

“Boyfriend? W-what? I don’t have one of those.” You said softly, worry filling your eyes.

“Wait, wait what? You and Jack aren’t-”

“No, why would you think that?” You cut him off loudly, playing with your necklace anxiously. Nico looked at you with wide eyes, tilting his head to the side.

“Uh- the post. I thought it was like a hard launch or something. Doesn’t look too friendly to me.” He laughed. Your eyes grew wider in fear, your mouth parting slightly as your heart beat faster.

Your grip on your necklace tightened as fear struck through your entire body. “Nico, w-what the hell are you talking about? What post?” Nico motioned towards your phone that sat on the counter next to you. You quickly picked it up, handing it over to him after unlocking it. Nico scrolled, and you bit your lip nervously, growing anxious to know what he was talking about. He handed the phone back to you, letting your eyes fall to a clear picture of you sitting on Jack’s lap laughing on the boat, his hands wrapped around your body. You stared down at the screen, heart racing as the realization sank in. The photo was up there for the world to see, one that you don’t even remember taking. Jack's arms wrapped around you, looking too comfortable to be “just friends”. You turned your attention to the top of the screen, seeing that it was Adelaide who posted the photo. Your blood boiled over your anxiety filled body, knowing that it was common knowledge that you and Jack preferred your personal lives to be private. “I-I-I gotta go. Thank you for the water.” You hopped off the counter, leaving your cup next to Nico. You quickly made your way through the swarm of people that filled the basement, looking for Jack. You pushed your way through the crowd, ignoring the curious stares and whispers. Your pulse was thundering through your ears as you made your way to the far side of the basement, where you last saw Jack. Finally, you spotted him leaning against the wall with Jesper and Curtis, laughing and entirely oblivious to the picture Adelaide posted.

“Jack” You called out, his smile faltering at the sight of your facial expression.

“What's up?” He asked, moving away from his friends to meet you halfway. You didn’t waste any time. You grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs. He didn’t know what was going on, but he could sense your worry so he followed you immediately. You made your way through the upstairs hall until you finally made it to his room. You pushed him inside, quickly shutting the door behind you.

“Bunny, what’s going on?” Holding up your phone, you shoved it into his hand so he could see Adelaide’s post. His face shifted through a range of emotions. Confusion, surprise, and finally a hint of frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply, as he planted himself on the edge of the bed. “Are you kidding me? She posted this?” He groaned.

You nodded, crossing your arms. “And now everyone is going to think we’re together. Nico already thought you were my boyfriend.” A hint of sadness behind your voice.

“There is something wrong with that woman.” Jack huffed out, rubbing his neck. You sat down next to him, holding his arm and leaning your head on his shoulder. He leaned into your touch, placing his head on top of yours. “I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Before you could respond, there was a knock on the door. The two of you turned and the door opened slightly before Trevor and Cole poked their heads inside, their faces a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“You two good in here?” Trevor asked, eyebrows raised as he looked between the two of you.

“Can we get five minutes without the two of you barging in?” Jack rolled his eyes as Trevor and Cole settled themselves in the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Five minutes, huh? That’s all you need?” Cole grinned, leaning against the wall.

Jack groaned, throwing his hands up “Seriously, dude?” Trevor made his way over to Jack, leaning over his shoulder to see the phone. He squinted his eyes slightly, trying to get a better look.

You looked up at Trevor, letting go of Jack’s arm. His eyes were wide and his mouth gaped open as he looked at the phone. “Holy shit.”

“What? What is it?” Cole asked, pushing himself from the wall to get a good look. He took the phone from Jack’s hand, pulling it closer to his eyes. “Oh my god. Did you even know she took this?” You shook your head, biting your lip ever so slightly. Jack huffed his breath, standing up to face Cole and Trevor.

“This is bullshit.” He said, taking the phone from Cole’s hand. “I’m gonna talk to Quinn.” Jack started making his way to the door before you quickly stepped in front of him, placing a hand on his chest. You could feel his heavy breaths, the way his chest moved up and down in a pattern you’d never seen before.

“No, wait,” You said, your voice quiet. “Let me talk to her first. I’m sure she just didn’t know, let’s not throw her under the bus.” You looked up at Jack with pleading eyes, taking your phone from his hand.

Behind you, Trevor crossed his arms as he shook his head. “Don’t defend her-”

“I’m not defending her.” You cut him off, your voice raising slightly. “I-I’m just saying, let’s not snitch. Let me talk to her, woman to woman. I’m sure she’ll take it down.” Jack let out a heavy sigh, stepping back slightly to silently give you permission to talk to her. You nodded your head, glancing over to Trevor and Cole with a small smile before making your way out of the room. You didn’t realize how drunk you truly were until you started making your way down the hall. The adrenaline of seeing the post had sobered you up, but only for a split second. You stumbled your way down the stairs, your grip on the railing firm as the room began to spin around you. You stood at the bottom step, scanning the basement for Adelaide. You finally found her standing by the kitchen counter, her blonde hair now tied in a low bun to reveal her gorgeous collarbone. You pouted slightly, seeing how perfect she looked knowing that you were a hot, drunk mess. You made your way towards her, repeating affirmations to yourself as you built up your confidence. When you reached her, a smile grew across her face almost immediately.

“Hey, Y/n!” She exclaimed, her tone happy. “I haven’t seen you all night.” You sent her a sheepish smile, anxiously playing with your necklace again.

You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, trying to find that confidence you were meant to have. “I know! It’s so crazy in here.” You let out a forced laugh, trying to hide your nervousness, which she mirrored quickly. “Listen, I gotta talk to you about something.” She tilted her head, sending you a closed mouthed smile as she reached for her drink. She took a sip, silently waiting for you to speak. “This um…this picture you posted of me and Jack. I-I know you mean well, but we do like to keep that part of our lives private.”

Adelaide placed her drink on the counter, her eyes widening as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You let out a sigh of relief and a teeth-showing smile at her response.

“It is totally fine.” You said, letting out a relieving laugh. “Just, with the media it’s kind of hard.”

She nodded her head, gracing you with a smile. “I totally understand that.” Your smile grew wider, wondering why this was so hard for you to do in the first place.

“Yeah, so if you could just take it down-”

“Oh, no.” She cut you off. Your smile quickly faded as you stared at her. Her fake smile still plastered on her face.

You let out a nervous laugh, gripping onto your necklace. “I-I…uh.” You paused, clearing your throat. “What?”

She picked her drink back up, raising her eyebrows. “It looks good on my instagram. Plus, you and Jack look super cute. Don’t stress it.” She laughed, letting her grin go wide. “There’s so many pictures of you and Quinn on the internet, so what’s one with Jack?” She shrugged her shoulders passive aggressively as she walked away into the crowd. You were left standing there in pure shock. Your mouth dropped, your arms falling limp to your side as you tried to process what just happened. The tension in your chest tightened as her words replayed in your mind. The dismissiveness, the fake sweetness masking her clear intentions, it hit you like a gut punch. You were rooted to your spot, staring at where she’d disappeared in the crowd. Your fingers still toyed with your necklace, a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to shake. She was jealous. You’d never even thought of the idea that maybe Adelaide would be a little shaken up by staying in the house with her boyfriend’s childhood fling. You assumed Quinn kept his mouth shut about the two of you, considering he never cared about you that much. What did he tell her? What could he have possibly said to her that would make her want to put you and Jack on blast to the internet?

Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands land on your shoulders. “How’d it go?” You heard Cole’s voice shout through your ear, but still not enough to knock you from your state. You couldn’t even move to look at him, your gaze centered on the crowd.

“I-um…” You cleared your throat. “She said no.” You said flatly.

Cole moved his head closer to yours, glancing at you with a side eye. “No?” You knocked yourself out of your daze, turning fully to face him.

“She’s jealous.” You said quietly, leaning in closer so he could hear you. “Said there’s so many photos of me and Quinn, so why not have one with Jack.” Cole’s mouth gaped open in shock, no one expecting her to say no. He was speechless, unaware of what to say in this moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Jack walking closer, a stern expression on his face. You let out a sigh of defeat, waiting for him to walk over.

Jack could sense the tension as he stared between you and Cole. “What happened?” He asked, the sentence coming out more as a statement than a question. You crossed your arms, your fingers digging into your sides as you glanced at Cole. He still looked too stunned to speak, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find words that just wouldn’t come. Jack’s gaze didn’t waver from you, his brow furrowed in concern as he waited for your answer.

“She said no,” You finally said, your voice flat and devoid of emotion. You clenched your jaw, betraying your anger that simmered just below the surface.

Jack blinked, his confusion quickly shifting to irritation. “She what?”

“She’s jealous.” Cole interrupted, his words finally making their way out. “She’s using you to show people that Bunny’s with you and not Quinn…I think?” Jack stared at you for a moment, processing what Cole just said. Then he muttered a curse under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he turned slightly away, his frustration evident in every movement. “Unbelievable.”

“Hey, guys!” Quinn yelled from the couch, turning down the music. You clenched your jaw at the sound, watching Trevor walk up behind Cole. “Come over here with us.” You scanned the couch seeing Adelaide, Quinn, Brock, and Bella all squished onto the couch. Nico and Jesper sat next to each other on the floor while Elias sat across from them. Luke pranced his way to the big chair, pulling the brunette from earlier down with him. You bit the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to do at this moment.

“What’d I miss?” You heard Trevor whisper into Cole’s ear.

“Not good.” Cole mumbled back.

You jolted slightly at the feel of Jack’s hand intertwining with yours. He took a sip from his beer bottle before pulling you to the living area with him, Trevor and Cole following close behind. Everyone in the room had their gaze centered on the four of you as you silently made your way over. Quinn was staring especially hard at your hand intertwined with Jack’s. He let go of your hand to allow you to take your seat on the floor in between himself and Trevor. The room felt like it was holding its breath, everyone’s gaze locked on you and Jack as you sat down. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You couldn’t help but notice the way Quinn’s jaw tightened, his hand resting on the back of the couch near Adelaide but clenched just enough to betray his irritation. Your eyes darted around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone as the anxiety rose through your body.

Quinn cleared his throat as he shifted in his seat. “We’re gonna play truth or dare,” He said, causing Jack’s eyebrows to knot. “Addy’s idea.” You glanced over to Adelaide who sent you a shit eating grin, like she had you in this perfect trap designed specifically for you.

“Isn’t this a kids game?” You said, taking a sip of Jack’s beer bottle.

Quinn scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly before looking back at you. “It’ll be like old times.” You felt a lump in your throat as your heart dropped, but you were quick to swallow it down. Jack’s arm moved to cross behind your back, not quite making contact with your skin, but it was enough to make your heart race. Quinn went first, daring Brock to take three shots in under ten seconds which he failed miserably at. Brock asked Elias to tell the story of how he lost his virginity.

“I was fifteen, after a school dance in my car. It was terrible.”

Elias asked Luke to tell the craziest story about Quinn in high school.

“Well when Bunny was sixteen-”

“He said tell a story about Quinn, not Bunny.” Jack was quick to interrupt at your defense. Luke told a story about Quinn getting drunk and trying to climb up the house to his bedroom window. Luke then dared Trevor to let him draw a dick on his face, which Trevor was drunk enough to be excited about. You laughed hard when Trevor turned to face you, a realistic looking cock on his forehead with the cheesiest grin you’d ever seen. Trevor asked Cole to tell the room his celebrity crush.

“Weak question. Meryl Streep. Love a good gilf.”

“Gross, Cole.”

Cole dared Nico to share his last google search with the group.

“Nico Hischer sexy tweets? That’s insane.”

Nico turned to Adelaide, who picked truth. He asked her what the most expensive gift Quinn had bought her was, and her eyes beamed like this was the question she’d been dying to answer.

“Probably my Louboutins.”

Your heart dropped when her gaze centered on you, a smug smile wiped across her face. You kept your expression stern, wanting to show her that you weren’t intimidated.

“Truth or Dare?” She asked, a hint of aggressiveness behind her voice.

You took another sip of Jack’s beer, letting your legs come uncrossed as you leaned back on your hands. “Dare.” Jack, Trevor, and Cole all let out small but noticeable sighs. They knew you only said dare because you were drunk and determined, and they all wished you would just keep your mouth shut at that moment.

Adelaide let out a soft laugh, like she had you exactly where she wanted. “I dare you…” She paused, letting her words hang in the air knowing it would cause you more anxiety. “No-” She said, causing your brows to furrow. “I dare you and Jack,” The words sent a shiver down your spine, knowing you couldn’t back out. “To go into the closet for seven minutes in heaven.” Jack groaned quietly as you bit the inside of your cheek. The circle boomed with laughs and whistles. Everyone had a smile plastered on their face except for you, Jack, Cole, Trevor, and shockingly Quinn. The laughter and whistles of the group felt deafening as Adelaide’s smug expression deepened. Jack shifted uncomfortably beside you, running a hand through his hair as his cheeks flushed.

You exhaled sharply, masking your nerves with a nonchalant shrug. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” Your voice was steady, but your heart was racing as you stood up. Jack’s eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, searching your face for some kind of reassurance or escape. Finding none, he reluctantly stood too, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Seven minutes,” Adelaide chirped with a saccharine sweetness, glancing at her phone as she set the timer. “Don’t keep us waiting.” The closet door swung open, and you stepped inside, Jack following closely behind. The space was tight, filled with jackets that smelled faintly of cologne and laundry detergent. The door clicked shut, plunging you into darkness save for a thin sliver of light from the bottom. Not being able to see in the darkness, you pulled out your phone.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked, his tone curious as his frame towered over you.

You bit your nails, opening up messages. “Texting the groupchat.”

You: okay it’s official i hate this bitch.

Cole: You should see the smile on her face rn

Trevor: Yeah she looks like pennywise kinda

You: just glad me and trevor were right for once 🥳

Trevor: Me and Cole will try to brainstorm some good revenge plots

Cole: Yeah you guys just thug out your seven minutes

Trevor: In heaven

Jack: Fuck off Trevor.

You sighed, putting your phone in your pocket. The room was dark again as you and Jack stood, facing each other. The closet was tiny and you didn’t realize how close the two of you were until you felt his breath on your forehead. It sent shivers down your spine almost immediately as you tried to keep yourself content. The tension in the closet was palpable as the soft sound of Jack shifting his weight echoed in the cramped space. You felt his hesitation as much as your own, the unspoken words swirling between you like a storm. His breath, warm and close, made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I don’t know what to do…” You let out. “in this weird situation with her.” Jack let out a hard sigh, which you felt against your skin.

“Just- don’t think about it.” He said gently, his hand hovering over yours. “Use this time as your distraction from the night.” He had fully enveloped your hand at this point, slowly moving closer towards you. You couldn’t see, but his face was plastered with a bright red tint when you began rubbing circles against his hand. The sounds of laughter erupted from the living room, muffled but still noticeable. In just two seconds, all that noise faded into the background as you felt Jack squeeze your hand. You could feel the heat from his body as he moved closer, your chests almost clashing together.

“I-Is this weird?” You asked, your voice just barely above a whisper as you felt yourself gravitating towards him.

“Is what weird?” He mumbled. You felt your breath hitch as your faces now sat merely inches apart. You stood on your tiptoes, trying to get closer.

“This.” You whispered, your lips so close to touching as Jack moved an unexpected hand to your waist, a touch that sent hard palpitations to your heart.

Jack let out another breath, his thumb now tracing circles against your hip. “Does it feel right?”

You bit your bottom lip, shutting your eyes at the feeling of his voice vibrating against your face. “Mhm,” You let out, nodding your head.

“Then, no. It’s not weird.” He whispered, ghosting his words against your lips. The hand that was holding yours moved up to your face, cupping it gently. Your stomach twisted at the touch, gently leaning in closer. Your knees closed together, as if keeping them open would unleash every sexual feeling that had been building up for the past ten years. You felt your heart almost beat out of your chest as Jack finally closed the space between the two of you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. It was hesitant at first, like he was waiting for your permission, but you quickly kissed him back, biting his bottom lip gently. Endless hours of flirtatious teasing, watching you swoon over Quinn, it all led up to this moment. The kiss quickly grew hungrier as Jack’s hands pulled you closer by your waist, tasting every lick of the satisfaction he’d yearned for all these years. Your hands moved to the back of his neck, letting your fingers explore his hair as he moved closer against you. The kiss was slow at first, but quickly intensified when you felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip. You opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter as he devoured every inch of you. He pushed you up against the wall, his pelvis absentmindedly grinding against you which caused a slight moan to escape from the back of your throat. You felt your stomach tingle as a flood rushed to your panties, moving your hands to grip his shirt. Jack’s lips moved in a way that was perfectly catered to you, like it was something you needed but never knew. His hands made their way up your body, one settling on your back to cradle you. His tongue pushed further into your mouth, almost reaching towards your throat. His other hand found its way to your thigh, slowly reaching up your dress to toy with the string of your underwear, twisting it with his finger against your skin. He pulled back only the slightest amount, his lips ghosting yours. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He whispered against your lips, the feel of his breath causing you to shudder, growing hungrier by the second. You weren’t thinking about Adelaide or Quinn, your mind was only on Jack and how bad you realized you wanted him.

“I need you.” You whispered back, your lips growing dry from his absence. “Please,” Jack didn’t waste any time before crashing his lips back onto yours, moving more intensely than before. The kisses became sloppy, like he was starving for this feeling his entire life. His fingers made their way down, just barely touching your folds through the fabric of your panties. You let out a heavy breath through the kiss, silently begging him to keep going as he teased you slightly. He bit down on your bottom lip as he moved the fabric to the side, revealing every inch of yourself. You whined slightly at his touch, finding yourself in this moment of vulnerability you’d never expected to have with Jack. His finger lightly brushed over your heat, testing the waters as you ran your hand through his hair to pull him closer.

“Can I-”

“Yes, please.” You said eagerly before pulling his lips back onto yours. Jack moved his hands to the strings of your panties, slowly pulling them down to your shaking knees, not removing his lips from yours once. Your hand was now fully tangled in his hair, the other on his back to pull him closer. Jack wasted no time before allowing a finger to enter your cunt, feeling the wetness that was made just for him. You let out a soft, quiet whimper against his lips as he gently explored your walls. He pumped his finger in and out slowly, removing his lips from yours to plant kisses on your neck. You leaned your head back, breathing heavily as his thumb made contact with your clit. “Jack,” You whispered. Never in your life did you expect to have any part of him inside of you, but now that you were here, you couldn’t imagine your life without it.

“You have no idea what this fuckin’ dress does to me.” He mumbled softly against your skin.

“Fuck.” You let out quietly as he entered another finger, filling you in just the right way. Your fingers tugged at his hair, pulling him closer as his motions grew faster. Your legs locked around his fingers, his other hand finding its way under your dress to your breast. He continued pumping in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit as he reconnected his lips with yours. He felt your insides, like it was a forbidden place he’d been waiting so long to explore. His hand made its way under your bra, squeezing your breast gently. You tried to silence yourself, but it was becoming more and more difficult with every thrust of his fingers. You felt yourself reaching peak, which was shocking in such a small amount of time. Something about the way Jack moved around your body, touching every spot in the exact right spot. “I’m gonna come.” You whispered, pulling back slightly.

He grinned as he moved his mouth down to your collarbone, placing gentle kisses across your neckline. “Let go for me, bunny.” His motions intensified, your breaths growing heavier by the second. He nibbled slightly against your skin, but not enough to leave marks. You let out a quiet moan as you finally released your juices around his fingers, letting him ride you out until the end of your climax. Your chest rose and fell heavily as Jack removed his fingers, taking them to his mouth. Both of you wished you could see each other’s faces at this moment, but the closet was pitch black. Years of suppressed feelings you didn’t even know you had, all spilled out onto Jack Hughes’ fingers. He moved his hands down to your knees to pull up your panties, your hands still tangled in his hair. “You alright?” He asked, his voice quiet but audible.

You removed your hands from his hair, letting your body fall back on the wall. Your breathing was still heavy, but you managed to speak. “Yeah,” You whispered. “I-I’m good- that was…” You paused for a second, your face quickly capturing a wide grin. “That was amazing.” Jack let out a sigh of relief, a smile growing on his face as he leaned in to kiss you again. It was gentle, allowing it to last for only a few seconds.

He pulled back, his hand coming up to cradle your face. “Listen, Bunny-”

“Seven minutes is up!” The door jolted open, causing you and Jack to quickly separate as Trevor stood in the doorway. He glanced between the two of you, a wide smile growing across his face as he took in the sight. You both looked rough, your hair messy, clothes not exactly straight. He let a small laugh escape his lips as he held the door open. “No way.” Was all he said before Jack rolled his eyes, giving Trevor a hit to the shoulder as he made his way back to the living room. You stood there in shock, running a hand through your now frizzy hair as you looked at Trevor. “That good, huh?” He asked, a sly grin across his face. You rolled your eyes, throwing your hair up into a ponytail as you made your way out of the closet.

“Shut up, asshole.” You mumbled, causing a giggle to erupt from Trevor. Trevor’s laugh followed you as you stepped back into the circle, your cheeks burning under the weight of everyone’s stares. You refused to meet Adelaide’s gaze, knowing her smug smile was probably plastered across her face. Instead, you focused on Jack, who had taken a seat on the couch and was pointedly scrolling through his phone, avoiding eye contact with anyone. You sighed, wanting him to look up for just one second, but his entire face was red and his lips were puffing out. “So,” you broke the silence. “Who's next?”

Quinn looked up at you, biting the inside of his cheek as Adelaide shifted her weight onto him. “I’m going to bed.” He said flatly before leaving his spot on the couch, Adelaide following close behind, giving you a wink before walking up the stairs. The tension in the air was thick as you took a seat next to Jack, his arm absentmindedly draping over your shoulders which caused your heart to drop. Cole and Trevor both had wide eyes, looking at you and Jack, then to each other. Little by little, everyone made their way out of the house, the party simmering down as you and Jack stayed in your own little world. He scrolled through his phone as your eyes grew tired, falling asleep against his body. Luke took his new ‘friend’ up to his room by the end of the night, Bella and Brock left shortly after with Elias following behind, then finally Jesper and Nico passed out on the floor of the kitchen. It was just you, Jack, Cole, and Trevor left downstairs. The living room had quieted down to the faint hum of music playing in the background and the occasional clink of empty bottles being cleaned up. Jack’s arm remained draped over your shoulders, his phone still glowing in his hand as he scrolled absentmindedly. You felt his warmth against your side, your head resting against him as your eyelids grew heavier. Across the room, Trevor and Cole exchanged another round of wide-eyed glances, their smirks only growing. Trevor leaned closer to Cole and muttered something, and Cole stifled a laugh, though it wasn’t quiet enough to go unnoticed.

“What’s so funny?” Jack asked, his voice calm but with a hint of annoyance as he finally glanced up from his phone.

“Oh, nothing,” Trevor replied, feigning innocence, but his grin betrayed him. “Just… didn’t expect you two to get so close tonight.”

Jack rolled his eyes but didn’t move his arm from around you, a fact that clearly wasn’t lost on Trevor. “Grow up, Zegras.”

Trevor yawned dramatically, standing up and stretching. “Well, I think that’s my cue to crash. Try not to do anything weird while I’m asleep, you two.”

“Go away, Trevor,” you muttered, leaning in closer to Jack’s side. His hand moved to your shoulder, stroking soothing circles with his thumb.

“You wanna go to bed, Bunny?” He asked quietly, leaning his head against yours. You nodded your head slightly, sitting up to let Jack stand. Jack stood up, offering you a hand to help you off the couch. His movements were slow, almost hesitant, as if he didn’t want to disturb the calm bubble the two of you had created. You took his hand, your legs a little wobbly from the unspoken moment in the closet as you followed him toward the stairs. Behind you, Cole gave a low whistle, and Trevor made a mockingly loud kissing sound. “Goodnight, children,” Jack deadpanned, throwing a pillow in their general direction without even turning around. You couldn’t help but grin, shaking your head as you climbed the stairs behind Jack. Once you reached the hallway, the noise of Trevor and Cole’s laughter faded, leaving just the sound of your soft footsteps. Jack led you into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. Without you having to ask, he went to his dresser to pull out a Devils t-shirt and a pair of shorts for you to wear. You smiled at the gesture through your sleepy eyes, taking the clothes from his hand.

“I um…” Jack paused, looking towards you as you held the clothes close. “I wanna talk about it.” He said quietly. You smiled at him, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. He followed close behind, sitting down next to you. His thigh brushed against yours as he looked into your eyes, taking your hand in his. “Bunny, I-” He took a moment to gather his thoughts, letting out a sigh. “I care about you. Like, a lot.” Vulnerability wiped across his face as you sat next to him, brushing your thumb back and forth on his hand. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the weight of his vulnerability washing over you. Jack wasn’t someone who usually wore his emotions on his sleeve, and seeing him like this, nervous and sincere, made your chest tighten in the best way.

“I care about you too, Jack,” you said softly, your voice steady even though your heart felt like it was racing.

He let out a breath, like he’d been holding it since he started speaking. “I mean, I really care about you,” he clarified, his eyes locking onto yours. “It’s not just… I don’t know how to explain it. You’re not just my friend. You’ve never been just my friend.” The room felt impossibly small, the air between you charged with emotions neither of you had fully acknowledged until now. His hand tightened slightly around yours, like he was afraid you might pull away.

“Jack,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Because I didn’t want to mess things up. You’re my best friend, Bunny. And you always had this annoyingly huge crush on Quinn, which pissed me off more than it should because he just tore you down over and over again. if you didn’t feel the same, I didn’t want to ruin… this.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his cheeks tinged pink.

You smiled, your thumb continuing to brush against his hand. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. Instead, you leaned in, closing the small gap between you and pressing your lips softly against his. Jack froze for a moment, his brain clearly trying to catch up with what was happening. But then his free hand came up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer as he kissed you back. It wasn’t hurried or desperate like before, it was warm and gentle, filled with all the unspoken feelings he’d been holding onto for so long.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, a mix of disbelief and relief written all over his face. “So… does this mean you feel the same?”

You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. “What do you think, genius?”

Jack’s lips curved into a smile, his confidence returning now that the weight of uncertainty had lifted. “I think I should’ve said something a long time ago.”

“Well,” you teased, your voice light, “better late than never.”

He chuckled, leaning back slightly but not letting go of your hand. “So… are you still okay sharing the bed? Or should I take the couch now that this is out in the open?”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to change into the clothes he’d given you. “You’re not going anywhere, Hughes.” Jack laughed quietly, lying back on the bed with his hands behind his head as he watched you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

As you climbed into bed next to him, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. For the first time that night, the tension melted away, replaced by a sense of calm and certainty that you hadn’t felt before. And as you drifted off to sleep in Jack’s arms, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something even better than you could’ve imagined.

#freeabortionslol #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jh86 #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #fanfic #imagine #lake house groupchat #hughes brothers

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caitified · 3 days ago

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Could you write something with CC who loves naps like always begging r to lay down with her and cuddle. I feel like her room is def -10 degrees and she uses it as an excuse to practically crawl under your skin

nap time

caitlin clark x reader

this was so personal to me as a nap enthusiast,those sound like my ideal conditions

caitlin loved naps more than just about anything. it didn’t matter how busy her schedule was—practice, games, workouts—she always managed to find time to crash for an hour or two. she swore it was essential for her performance, but you were pretty sure she just loved curling up in her fortress of blankets and dozing off whenever she could.

and since the two of you started dating, she’d made it her personal mission to drag you into her napping habits. at first, you resisted—claiming you had too much to do, that it was too cold in her room, or that you weren’t tired. but caitlin was nothing if not persistent, and her endless whining (paired with her ridiculous pouting) eventually wore you down. now, it had become routine for her to beg you to nap with her, using every excuse in the book to get you to crawl under her mountain of blankets and cuddle up.

so, when you walked into her room that afternoon and saw her already burrowed in her usual spot, you knew exactly where this was going.

“come lay down with me,” she whined, stretching out her arms toward you from her cozy little nest.

“caitlin, your room feels like a walk-in freezer,” you reply, arms crossed and standing your ground. “i swear i saw my breath when i walked in.”

“that’s because it’s the perfect temperature for napping,” she argues, sitting up slightly. the blanket slips off her shoulder, and she immediately grabs it and tugs it back up like a burrito. “come on, it’s freezing—i need you to warm me up.”

you raise an eyebrow. “if it’s so cold, why don’t you just turn the heat on?”

she gasps like you’ve just suggested something heinous. “are you trying to kill me? it has to be cold so i can burrito up. but you’re supposed to be part of this equation. please.”

her pout is devastating. it always is, but you don’t let her win too easily. you stand there for a moment longer, pretending to deliberate while she stares at you with wide, pleading eyes. finally, you sigh dramatically. “fine. but only because i don’t want to listen to you complain all day.”

she grins triumphantly and throws back the corner of the blanket. “come here. you’re not going to regret it.”

the second you climb into bed, caitlin wastes no time wrapping herself around you like an octopus. her arms encircle your waist, her legs tangle with yours, and she tucks her face against your neck.

“see?” she mumbles, already sounding halfway to dreamland. “this is perfect. you’re so warm.”

“you’re like an actual furnace,” you counter, laughing softly as she squeezes you tighter.

she hums in contentment, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “that’s the point. now we’re the perfect temperature. don’t move.”

“i wasn’t planning on it,” you admit, feeling yourself start to relax against her. the chill of the room is long forgotten with caitlin clinging to you like a second skin.

her breathing evens out within minutes, and you glance down to find her completely out, her mouth slightly open and her hold on you still as firm as ever.

just as your own eyelids start to droop, she stirs slightly, nuzzling closer.

“love you,” she murmurs sleepily, the words barely audible but enough to make your heart swell.

“love you too,” you whisper back, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

thanks for reading! requests are open

#wnba x reader #caitlin clark x reader #wnba imagine #wbb x reader #wbb imagine #iowa wbb #caitlin clark #indiana fever

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alexanderwales · 3 days ago

Text

This one has been going around a bit, and there are a few comments to the effect of "timestamps on spells mean you can use infinite spells" or "unique wizard codes to make every spell unique", and ...

I think I understand the instinct to do this, to "solve" the idea. You put yourself in the shoes of a wizard, and you think about how you would go about breaking open the seams of magic so that you can cast the fireball you want rather than the weird, awkward fireball that takes you five attempts to cast.

However, if "append garbage or UID" were a valid solution, then the entire conceit would just evaporate. It's the kind of "solution" that would not be sufficiently interesting to include in a story. If you were writing a novel and had this system set up, and a character came along and gave this as their answer, and they were right then the reader would immediately ask "wait, why has no one thought of this before?" AND you wouldn't get any of the elements of tension.

So if I were actually building a system that needed to work for a story, something that was built out enough that the reader could feel like they understood the language, it would need to be built with some considerations in mind:

It must not be possible to easily replicate a spell.

Every part of the spell specification must "do something", even if what it does is relatively minor.

The language must be complicated enough that new techniques can be discovered over time through great effort.

The earliest people to use the system cannot have simply learned everything about it right away.

I don't consider this to be an easy design problem for a system that's going to live in a story, especially since if you make it completely exposed to the reader, there's a risk that some reader who is more dedicated or clever will come along and "solve" it.

When I was a kid, everyone was worried about "peak oil". There were rapidly depleting reserves! Even if consumption stayed steady, less oil was going to be tapped over time, it was simply a question of resource extraction, and that meant prices were going to soar!

But in fact this was more a tug-of-war between depletion and extraction, one that had been going on for a long time. So what happened to peak oil? Maybe it was shale oil and NGL, maybe it was fracking, maybe it was just that production doesn't actually follow a bell curve. Maybe the science that gave us "peak oil" was just wrong, and while the principle that we would eventually deplete all reserves must be correct, the actual understanding of what the oil reserves are was flawed.

This was the kind of thing I wanted in the system though, a tug-of-war, a tension, wizards spending more and more time trying to figure out new ways to create the same effects, getting more and more esoteric, upping the skill level and knowledge-base necessary to become an effective spellcaster.

And this is very tough to design. If you want a puzzle to solve, it's that one, the design problem of a system of spellcasting that has that feature.

Spells are a non-renewable resource. One a spell has been cast, it can never be cast again.

But thankfully, what counts as a unique spell is permissive, and very early on in the history of wizardry, wizards found many ways to use the arcane language to specify a similar effect even if the wording was different.

And still, spells were a non-renewable resource.

There are only so many ways to call forth a beam of lancing light, only a limited number of methods of purifying food to make it safe to eat. Soon it became necessary for the wizards to start casting spells that weren't quite what they wanted: a beam of light that arced to the left, a purifying spell that added a bitter taste, some changes cosmetic and others very functional.

And still, spells were a non-renewable resource.

Wizardry was divided into ages by the historiographers. The First Age was the age of plenty, when wizards could make minor tweaks to the spells and cast as much as they liked. The Second Age was the age of modification, when wizards were jumping through hoops and using methods with side effects. But the Third Age was the age of decay, when so many spells had been used that only the oddballs were left. It was impossible to cast anything even remotely resembling a fireball, not even one that hooked to the left and exploded with sharp green shards.

It came to be that few wizards could produce a spell on their first attempt. They would try, only to discover that someone else had already taken their idea and the spell does not work. They would try again, only to discover that their second idea had also been taken. Wizard battles, which had once been glorious light shows, were reduced to two wizards standing in a field trying to be the first one to stumble upon a spell that had never been cast before.

~~~~

Here are some plot hooks:

Wizards jealously guard their knowledge, fearful that someone will learn of a "seam" of untapped spells, but they also write down every spell they know to have been cast, to reduce their search space. Obviously this trove of knowledge is highly valuable.

The existence of spell "seams", which are really just collections of spells that work off the same cluster of discrete variations, mean that wizards tend to be very specialized. The Sheep Wizard knows eight hundred ways of turning someone into a sheep, because he's studied that area of the arcane language extensively, as well as historical precedents that have been ruled out. The natural enemy of a Sheep Wizard is, of course, another Sheep Wizard.

During the Second Age, a group of wizards get together to deliberately reduce the spell-space, largely in the hopes of reducing the capacity of wizard-kind for making war. Their work largely consists of sitting around casting as many fireballs as they can, depleting all options for everyone else.

During the Third Age, a group of wizards gets together and in the spirit of mutual cooperation begins to define "spell blocks", a collection of spells that a single wizard is entitled to and all other wizards agree not to use. When you become a wizard, you're given a thousand spells which are thought to still be valid, and will lose your license to practice wizardry if you cast any spells that are outside your block. This is difficult to enforce, rife with accusations and suspicion, but is thought to be better than nothing.

During the Fourth Age, a group of "wizards" (none of whom have ever actually cast a spell) are working on the arcane language in the hopes of a revival. As the age of hoarded knowledge has mostly passed, they're able to get their hands on many books that weren't previously available. One day, they invent a new form of specification that allows hundreds of thousands of new spells, re-igniting wizardry.

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moonlight-prose · 1 day ago

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“please don’t make me say it if you aren’t going to say it back” with a desperately in love with joel reader would hit so much…

weaved around your finger like yarn

a/n: me writing for joel again?? this has sat in my inbox for over a year and i never meant to actually take this long with it. but i finally figured out how to write this concept. and now i am actually obsessed with the small world of softness i created for these two. this is yes jackson joel, but nothing bad happens ever to him because why would it? it's all fine right?

summary: he never made space in his life for love in the aftermath of destruction. the after of his life he once thought would extend past decades of gray hair, smile lines carved in around his mouth now set in frowns and sneers. but snowfall and alcohol blur the lines for both of you when winter comes to jackson.

word count: 1.6k+

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: not explicit, love confessions, heavy makeout sessions, alcohol consumption, tipsy joel, sad joel, laughter at the end of the world, hope.

He can't remember laughing until his stomach hurt. The ache that spilled into his chest, warming his insides with a sun like quality that left him shivering. He can't recall the feel of his cheeks pulled so wide the sensation became a phantom pain seconds after. He knows it happened. He can distinctly recall the jokes, the joy. But the laughter lingers like a ghost at the back of his mind—translucent and gray and distorted enough to feel false.

Alcohol simmers in his stomach with a rueful intent. A malignant aftermath that would hit him in a few hours after two months of attempted sobriety. Ellie insisted, he accepted. Easy enough to say. Difficult to follow through with.

He had his days where whiskey sounded better than the flavor of bacon Tommy would bring him in the early mornings. But the dismay in your eyes helped him hold off, regain his awareness of a world not yet shattered. For once in quite a long time...he finally lived. For you, for Ellie, for Sarah.

He lived to see his hair grow longer and the grays appear more frequently. To drink coffee in the mornings on a porch you were already settled on. To help you fix small things here and there in your cabin next door. He lived for your smile, the light in your eyes. The curve of your lips as they pulled up into bolstering peals of laughter—the furrow in your brow as you frowned from endless frustrations on long hard days.

Joel Miller lived to love you.

He existed to dig his heels in and wait shit out—it's what he was good at, what he knew how to do. But for you he relented quicker than ice on a hot asphalt driveway back home in Texas. His mind became sand that slipped through your giving hands—heart a fluttering mess that sang a tune he could never get right on the guitar stashed in his living room.

Days bloomed into weeks which grew into months. Eventually a year passed and what used to be difficult and awkward to be around people again, felt like breathing the fresh winter air. The jackets he managed to find hung on hooks by the door, a pair of heavy boots beside the small table Tommy crafted him.

The mornings were nice. When hot water hit ground coffee and the aroma plagued his kitchen for hours at a time. The evenings called you towards him—simple cooking skills shared in the confines of a home he pined for you to reside in.

Life was a sliver of peace he never imagined he'd get again. But the hole in his heart never faded, the pain still rang out sharp enough to have him clamping down on the inside of his cheek. And your smile made his stomach ache with a longing deep enough to scar.

Tommy told him to buck up and do something. Ellie called him a fucking idiot.

You...gave no indication you felt the same way. So silent and reserved he would remain.

Your feet slid on icy, fingers gripping tightly to his jacket with a yelp in a quick attempt to save yourself from slamming to the ground. Joel snickered loud and brash and a wash of embarrassment burned under frozen cheeks. Dragging you up, his arm looped tightly around your waist—hand pressed harsh and insistent to the small of your back. You swallowed the butterflies at the sight of his face flushed red—eyes shining from the effect of too much whiskey.

"We were bad tonight," you muttered, breath forming a cloud between your faces.

He grinned—skin buzzing at the close proximity of your form. "Only a little bit."

"You're not supposed to drink Joel."

Leaning in he traded his smile like a secret; you tucked it into your chest with a sharp breath. "I won't tell if you don't, darlin'."

"Joel..."

"C'mon. No one's gettin' in trouble here."

A blade pierced your heart brutally—spilling crimson along pale white snow. Even as Joel remained entirely unaware of how you clung to him. How your body called his name—your mind plagued with thoughts of his being, with images of his smile, with the sound of his raspy voice. He'd never know the way you cherished each moment with him. The mornings tucked away from an unruly world—the nights shared between friends who might one day be more.

Your teeth scraped along the cracked skin of your bottom lip, eyes cast up to the curl of his lips. The words sprang forth faster than you could drag them back. Your chest of secrets unlocked and bared to the man who drowned you in his small flecks of joy. Later you'd blame the alcohol. When the headache ravaged your head and an ache lingered between your thighs.

Later you'd comb over every small glance and breathy word.

"I like spending time with you Joel," you breathed, fingers toying with the front of his leather coat. "I like...um..."

The breath caught in his throat, gaze desperate to catch yours. "Yeah sugar?"

"It's a hard thing to say." Another cloud of your whiskey tinged breath filled the air.

"You can tell me anythin'. You know that right?" Even as hope flared bright and scorching through the width of his chest. "I'll listen."

Hesitation spilled into the night, your voice a soft whisper he barely caught. "Please don't make me say it if you aren't going to say it back."

Oh didn't you know?

Did you not see how his gaze dug beneath the layers of flesh and bone, of tendons and veins that clung to your form? Did you not understand he would take a bullet for you? That he'd bear the wound of a warrior's death to keep you alive? How could you not know that his love stuck to his tongue with a saccharine bitterness he swallowed down like the drugs he once took to numb his mind?

You healed pieces of his soul you never broke. A marred and fucked puzzle that was meant to find a home six feet underground. By his own hand no less. He was destined to die—born to suffer—yet you swathed him wool with the promise of a peaceful life.

A future etched by the hands of love.

"Say it," he pleaded, frozen hand cupping your cheek.

"It's more than just that." The breath you took shot adrenaline down his spine. "I like our mornings. I like our dinners and conversation. And even when you come into town with me. But I...I love..."

The glossy nature of your eyes created by unshed tears that pooled at your waterline dug the knife deep enough to meld it within his heart. You didn't know. You couldn't have. His silence, his hesitation, swallowed every emotion he might have told you—every secret uttered in the shadows of night that told only half his story.

He told you about Sarah. About their life together, about her smile. That in itself felt like a proclamation of love—a key to the heart he thought stopped beating long ago.

"I knew it would freak you out," you muttered, pulling away from his hold.

Only for him to panic. His hand gripped the back of your jacket, pushing you towards him hard enough for your feet to slip again. But your gasp was swallowed by the cold press of his mouth to yours. Lips chapped by the winter air slid against your parted mouth as you froze against his chest. Your hands hung listlessly at your sides. He kissed you tenderly, attempting to wake you from the spell of shock, but to no avail did it bring you back.

"'M sorry." His words were muffled against your chin, forehead pressed to yours and eyes squeezed shut. "I shouldn't have–"

The press of your fingers into his cheeks jolted him back—eyes wide as you dragged him back with a stifled moan. Your mouth found his tongue hot and wet along his bottom lip in a pleading motion he complied to instantly. Stepping forward he fell into you with a deep groan. One that echoed and vibrated right down to your stomach—one you savored with a lick along his back teeth.

Hands cupped your ass with an insistent need to mold you closer, fingers digging into the plush flesh he longed to bite and taste. You tasted like whiskey. You smelled like him. It made him dizzy with want, anxious to lead you back to his porch—to seat you on his kitchen counter in the mornings while the coffee went cold.

"Fuck I wanna take ya home sugar," he grunted, biting at your lower lip with a grin.

Your breathless reply made the hair stand on the back of his neck. "You can."

"No." He shook his head, stealing another kiss with a gritty moan. "Not tonight. 'M gonna do this proper."

"Proper," you smiled, tugging on the longer curls you refused to let him cut. "You're such an old man Miller."

The large breadth of his hand cupped your chin, pushing the cheeks he lightly bit into together. "Won't be sayin' that tomorrow when I ain't got all this fuckin' alcohol in me."

"Yeah?" The droop of your eyelids—the darkened iris now filled with lust—set his teeth on edge. His body hummed with a new buzz he craved since meeting you. "Prove it."

"Oh I will." He grinned sharply, licking his teeth like a wolf waiting to pounce. "Don't you worry 'bout that."

A glimmer in your eyes caught his attention, the grip on your face loosening. "You know I love you right darlin'?"

You smiled—big and bright—and Joel felt another piece of his soul set back into place. "I love you too Joel."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller #pedrostories #my writing

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synvil · 19 hours ago

Text

can’t swim // rafe cameron

a / n : rafe cameron thoughts. btw this was actually an anonymous ask i sent to a writer, i don’t know if she’ll write it but im sure if she does, it’ll turn out amazing. @rafeysbunny i’m 🧋 anon, hehe.

fun fact, i cannot swim.

synopsis : in which, rafe overhears that you can’t swim and during a party out on the docks, some of the kooks push you into the ocean to loosen you up.

warnings : reader can’t swim. kelce being an ass, peer pressure, etc.

“are you serious, [Name]?”

The raised tone of her voice causes you to shush her as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and purse your lips faintly. “Not so loud, sare..” You let out a small breath and frown, leaning back against the headboard of her bed.

Sarah nods in understanding, lowering her tone as she sighs softly and crosses her legs on the bed in front of you. “That’s crazy- i mean, everyone here in Outer Banks are either surfers or decent swimmers.”

“Except me..” You trail off, shutting your eyes as you bring your hands up to your face. “It’s pretty humiliating, you know.. Seeing everyone in their swimsuits and able to swim in the ocean or go surfing, without the fear of drowning.”

“Wow, no wonder you wouldn’t ever go into the pool or go swimming with us during the boat parties on the dock..”

Unbeknownst to you two, Sarah’s door was open and a passing Rafe Cameron was on his way downstairs when he overhears your conversation.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, but each time, I feel my body sinking and it terrifies me. Plus, y’know, with the whole nearly drowning as a kid trauma and shit.” you force a laugh while Sarah shares a bittersweet smile.

“It’s alright, stay by me tonight and I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“Thanks, Sarah, I appreciate it.. and you can’t tell anyone either, okay, especially not Rafe.” You warn pleadingly and she chuckles and nods. “wait, why specifically him?”

You feel your cheeks warm at her question as you turn away. “Your brother just seems like the type to make fun of me for it, and besides, it’s just embarrassing to have a guy i think is hot, to know that about me.”

Sarah scrunches her nose and shudders. “I think your crush on my brother is more embarrassing than you being unable to swim.” she teases and you playfully push her away from you as she breaks into a laugh.

Rafe peeks into the room and thinks for a moment as his eyes examine and take in your form. He has already known long ago of your developed crush on him, and to say he has a mutual infatuation with you may be an understatement.

Every time you come over, Rafe finds every excuse to be in the house, sometimes even in the same room, just to get a look at you.

The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you feel shy, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, everything entices him, intrigues him. You were just so perfect.

Rafe quickly pulls away when he hears movement and leans against the wall beside the doorframe for a moment.

Despite being a little surprised at the newfound information, it brought a little smile to his face. You can’t swim? How cute.

“Come on, we should get ready for Topper’s party tonight.” Sarah says and you sigh softly, but get up anyways with her as she heads over to her closet. “It’ll be fun, come on.”

Rafe lingers for a second longer as he imagines what you’ll be wearing before taking his leave downstairs.

It’s around ten at night when the two of you arrive at the docks, the night sky surrounding the area with only the lights of Topper’s large boat illuminating the place.

“I don’t know, maybe i shouldn’t be here..” You go to turn around but Sarah stops you, pulling you to her side. “Come on, it’ll be okay, i promise. Besides, you look super cute, so flaunt it, okay?” She winks and you huff a breath before following after her.

The closer you get, the louder the partygoers become and the music blasting is enough to stimulate the senses.

Once you get on board, Sarah is engulfed by her friends, while you remain on the sideline with a weak smile and awkwardly hugging your arms. Despite being a kook, you weren’t among the popular ones but that wasn’t enough to get you on their bad side at least.

You rub your arms, the thin fabric of your cardigan doing nothing but add to Sarah’s fashion sense of your outfit tonight. In her baby blue, cropped cardigan, a matching spaghetti strapped solid colored tank and dark washed, high waisted denim shorts.

You help yourself to the bar, grabbing a red solo cup and letting the bartender fill the plastic cup with some beer before bringing it to your lips, hoping it would do some good to alleviate some anxiety, while you keep an eye on Sarah from nearby, who’s talking with her friends.

The scene brings a smile to your lips when you recall her saying she would keep an eye on you earlier in the day but you were happy to see her enjoy herself.

However, you didn’t get to enjoy much time alone as Topper and his friends make his way over to you.

“Hey, [Name]. All alone again?” Kelce smirks and you merely offer a small smile in return. “Not much of a party kinda girl.. but it’s nice.” you mention the last part to Topper who dismisses you, understanding you meant no offense.

“Where’s Sarah?” Topper asks, looking around the area and you gesture over a little ways nearby.

“She’s talking with some friends.” You reply, tapping my fingers against my cup as you shift your footing, feeling the anxiety come back, causing you to take another sip of your drink.

You let your eyes wander around the group, briefly catching Rafe’s, who let his eyes trail up and down your form for a moment, taking in your appearance. The way the baby blue color popped against your skin, the way your hair was styled for tonight’s party. Even the way you shyly held your cup to your chest, fingers still tapping against the sides.

Feeling your cheeks warm from Rafe’s intense gaze, you turn away and look back to Kelce.

Kelce and some of the other guys step closer and you give a small smile to them. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Come on, [Name]. We notice you always come to these parties but you don’t do anything,” Kelce mentions and you force a chuckle. “I’m an observer.” but some of the other guys don’t take that answer. “All we’re saying is, you should loosen up a little. Come on, some of the girls are taking dives off the tail, you should join.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you wave off the idea. “No, i think im good tonight, im actually pretty tired..” You say and Kelce scoffs lightly as his hand goes down to grab your wrist. “Don’t be a buzzkill, [Name], the water will wake you right up.”

“Kelce, i’m not really in the mood to-“ Rafe places a hand on Kelce’s shoulder, stopping him. “Let go, dude, let’s just leave her alone.” But Kelce doesn’t listen as he drags you along to where the other girls are, and the commotion causes all the partygoers to look over, Sarah looking your way.

Your eyes meet Rafe’s and he notices a look of fear and anxiety in them as Kelce brings you over and you try to pull away, the other guys surrounding you all, cheering Kelce and You.

“Yeah!”

“Come on, loosen up, girly.”

“Kelce, I really don’t—“ Despite your futile attempts, Kelce just takes the cup from your hands while Sarah pushes her way through the crowd. “Hey, Kelce, leave her alone!”

Rafe purses his lips and pulls Kelce away. “Hey, seriously, that’s enough.” He warns, pushing Kelce back, who just furrows his brows and scoffs. “What the hell? Why are you getting in the way, man?”

Sarah manages to get to your side, standing over you protectively. But the other girls now get in the way.

“Come on, Sarah, let [Name] do it.”

“it’s not scary.”

You shake your head again, as the girls pull Sarah away, leaving you alone with the kook surrounding you.

Rafe is pushing Kelce away, who’s confused and pushing Rafe back in retaliation. Meanwhile this leaves the other Kooks to act freely and the guys seem to share the same idea and go over to your body.

“Hey, hold on—“

But it’s too late, as the guys pick you up with ease and toss you overboard, a wave of laughter and cheers erupting from them.

“[Name]!” Sarah shouts from the girls hold and Rafe widens his eyes as he whirls around at the sound of your scream and a splash from the impact.

“Shit-“ Rafe curses as he roughly shoves Kelce into Topper as he rips off his shirt before taking a leap off the deck and into the water with you.

You flail, panic surging into you as you begin to hyperventilate. “S-Sa-Sarah—!”

“What the hell?!” Kelce scoffs with furrowed brows while Sarah feels tears brimming her eyes. “[Name] can’t swim!” she cries out as she rips away from the girls and shoves two of the guys out of her way before leaning over the railing. “[Name]!”

Topper’s, Kelce’s and the other kooks’ eyes widen in shock at the revelation. “What?”

They all rush over the rail to peer into the ocean as Rafe is diving under to find you.

Rafe manages to find your sinking body, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you up to the surface, your body already unconscious due to the lack of air and your panic flailing.

“[Name], [Name], are you okay?” He gasps as he reaches the surface and uses a hand to caress your cheek while the other props you up under your back. “No, no, come on, [Name], wake up.”

Sarah rushes around down the boat and on the boardwalk and leans down. “Rafe, Rafe! Come on, bring her over here!”

Rafe clenches his jaw when you still don’t respond and swims his way over towards Sarah as quickly as he can, panting before lifting your body up, Sarah doing her best to help you onto the wooden docks, laying you flat on your back.

“[Name], please! please wake up!” Sarah cries as she jostles you, Rafe climbing onto the dock next to her and looking down at you. She begins doing chest compressions, tears streaming down her cheeks faster. By this time, everyone on the boat is out on the boardwalk surrounding you body on the ground.

Rafe stands up straight, his clothes soaking and dripping but he doesn’t pay it any mind as he tries to catch his breath, staring down at his sister trying to wake you.

He contemplated for just a minuscule of a second, about beating the shit out of Kelce, but he prioritized your wellbeing first.

“Rafe- she’s not waking up.”

Sarah inhales sharply, trying not to think the worst and her older brother kneels down, pinching your nose closed before bringing his lips down to yours.

The kooks are whispering amongst each other, surprised by Rafe’s sudden leadership actions.

Rafe pulls away, continuing Sarah’s chest compressions before going back to pressing his lips against yours, providing CPR.

Please, not like this. wake up, wake up for me, [Name].

Suddenly a choked noise erupts from your lips as you turn to your side and spew out bits of water. Your throat becomes sore as you cough roughly.

Sarah immediately breaks into a smile, a gasp of relief coming from her and Rafe pulls back, a sigh coming from him. “H-Hey, take it easy, you’re alright..”

You look around, feeling dizzy and nauseous as you spit up the last of the water you nearly drowned in, as Sarah pulls you to her chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “[Name], i’m so glad you’re okay!”

Meanwhile, Rafe stands upright, looking up at the sky, trying to relax his rapidly beating heart, as he takes slow steps to turn around.

“H-Hey, look, I didn’t know-“

Kelce, already knowing what was coming, raises his hands in defense as he backs up.

However, Rafe doesn’t hesitate his fist swinging into Kelce’s cheek, succeeding in knocking him down. “You son of a bitch!”

Rafe clenches his jaw tight as he looks to the other kooks. “Party is fucking over, get the fuck away!”

Topper tries to talk some sense into Rafe but Rafe shoves him. “You hear me? I said get away! go fucking home, now!”

Everyone is stunned into silence as they share looks, before quickly scrambling away and off the dock, not wanting to argue with the Kook King.

Sarah sniffles as she pulls away and looks up at Rafe, who kneels down and tucks an arm under your legs and the other under your back, before lifting you up carefully, bridal style.

“R-Rafe?…” Your hoarse voice calls out, hands pressed to his firm chest but Rafe hushes you. “Shh.. it’s alright, just get some rest.. you’ll be fine.”

Sarah watches her brother carry you towards his truck, wiping her tears as she follows after them, exhaling gently.

Tears brim your eyes as your chest swells with warmth, despite your freezing body.

You stare up at Rafe weakly, feeling your chest grow weak as your eyes flutter close and you press your head into his chest more. “Thank you.. Rafe.. You saved me..”

Rafe’s hold on you tightens, securing you in his arms.

“..I’m so glad you’re okay… i’m so sorry..”

a/n: welp, this could’ve been sooo much better but i rushed this at work hehe. outerbanks is playing on the tv at work so i thought id get a little smth out :3 this is sooo bad though 😭

not proofread or edited. i’ll go back and edit some other time.

synvil™️.

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