4m0r1m

[4m0r1m]

The Grin He Waited For

SUMMARY: Everyone just wanted to see her smile. He falls donw and gets a whole laugh out of her. How's that even possible??

PAIRING: james potter x reader

A/N: I'm really sorry foir making you guys wait so much foor another fic but I'm really getting stressed because of my finals. This is gonna be a little short but anyways I hope you like it!!

There was a certain type of warmth that clung to James Potter like a second skin—relentless, golden, loud. It was in his laugh, in the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, in how he practically bounced with energy when he walked into a room. James Potter didn’t enter places. He arrived. And whether you wanted to or not, you noticed.

You, however, were the opposite. Reserved. Quiet. Often mistaken for being rude, when in truth, you just didn’t see the need to exhaust energy on everyone. The Marauders, in particular, were always exhausting. Endearing, sure. But exhausting.

Sirius was chaos incarnate. Remus was observant and gentle, though a bit too fond of offering unsolicited advice. Peter tried too hard to be funny. And James—James was infuriatingly delightful. You didn’t like how easily he drew people in. You didn’t like how your chest warmed around him. But most of all, you didn’t like that no one could seem to make you smile… yet he managed to make you feel lighter just by being in the same room.

It had become a bit of a game. The others tried it all—Sirius with his pranks, Remus with his kindness, even Peter with his bumbling commentary. Each attempt to crack your stony demeanour ended in failure.

James never tried. Not once. He just carried on, laughing with Sirius, throwing apples at Peter’s head in the Great Hall, launching into Quidditch monologues that made absolutely no sense to you. And somehow, that made him more charming.

You had grown used to their presence in your orbit. Somehow, you were part of their strange little group, even if you didn’t speak much. You were the one who didn’t laugh. The one who rolled their eyes. The one who, by all accounts, simply existed alongside them.

Until the day James fell.

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It was a Wednesday evening. Rain battered against the windows of the Gryffindor common room. A fire crackled gently in the hearth, filling the room with a low amber glow. You were curled up in an armchair, a blanket draped over your lap, eyes flicking across the pages of a thick book.

Sirius was doing impressions. Remus was half-listening, scribbling notes for an assignment. James and Peter were arguing over who would win in a broomstick race through the Forbidden Forest—James was, as usual, full of confidence.

“I’m telling you,” James was saying, hopping onto the arm of the sofa with one leg swung over, “if I’d had my broom that day, I’d have made it through that thicket in under a minute. Easy.”

Peter snorted. “You’d have flown straight into a tree.”

James puffed out his chest. “I’m nimble.”

You didn’t look up, but you were listening. You always listened when James talked, even if you pretended not to.

“I could do a flip right now and land on my feet,” James announced proudly.

“Go on, then,” Sirius egged, his grin wicked.

With the kind of misplaced confidence only James Potter possessed, he launched himself off the armrest with a ridiculous twist—

—and faceplanted directly into the carpet.

There was a thump, followed by a sharp “oof!” as he groaned into the floor.

The room fell silent.

You looked up.

And for the first time in a very long while… you snorted. Not a polite giggle. Not a stifled chuckle. A full, unfiltered snort.

Everyone’s heads whipped around.

“Did you just—?” Sirius blinked.

“Oh my god,” Remus murmured, eyes wide.

Peter looked like he’d seen a ghost.

But James… James was still lying flat on the rug. Slowly, he lifted his head, cheeks squashed and hair sticking out in all directions.

He met your gaze.

And then he smiled. That smile. Soft, genuine, adoring.

“There it is,” he breathed, as though he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. “The laugh.”

You felt heat crawl up your neck, eyes dropping to your lap. You tried to hide it—too late. The room erupted into laughter, but James’s voice was the only one that lingered in your ears.

That night, the teasing was relentless. Sirius looked ready to throw a party. Remus gave you a smug little nod. Peter kept whispering, “I thought you were incapable.”

But James didn’t say a word.

Not until later.

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You were heading back down to the common room for a forgotten quill when you saw him sitting by the fire alone, glasses skewed, legs stretched out, a book open but unread in his lap.

He looked up as you entered.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You paused, unsure. “Hey.”

A beat passed. The fire crackled.

“I wasn’t trying to make you laugh,” James said, voice low and sincere.

“I know.”

“I mean—Sirius has a bet going, and the others are obsessed with seeing you smile, but me? I just wanted… I dunno. For you to want to laugh. For yourself.”

You looked at him, surprised. “You’ve really been waiting for that?”

He shrugged. “Not like… obsessively. But yeah. Kinda. It’s a good sound. Worth the wait.”

Your chest tightened in a way that was unfamiliar. Warm and aching and sweet all at once.

“James?” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for falling on your face.”

He laughed. “Anytime.”

You turned to leave, but then paused. You glanced over your shoulder, met his eyes, and let a small smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

Not a snort. Not a laugh.

But a smile.

And James Potter lit up like the sun was rising just for him.

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The next day, Sirius tried three times to prank Filch just to impress you. Remus offered you a muffin he definitely hadn’t baked himself. Peter knocked over a goblet of pumpkin juice onto Snape’s robes.

You didn’t laugh.

But across the room, James caught your eye.

You smirked.

And he smiled back like it was a secret only the two of you shared.

You supposed, in a way, it was.

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[4m0r1m]

People, I’m so sorry for disappearing buuuuut school finishes next week so I’ll start posting again very soon😋😋

[4m0r1m]

Hiiii!

So do you know the new podcast of darkest and harry, well maybe reader goes there and tells sotrys with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend can be one of them bur I would like if it was Niko or Kenny!

Episode Us - King Kenny

Summary: A cheeky joke about appearing on the Old & Bald podcast turns into a reality for you and Kenny.

Pairing: King Kenny x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Note: JOIN OUR SERVER FOR BETA SQUAD GIRLIES/FANS

Masterlist

You didn't think you'd actually end up on Old & Bald.

It started off as a joke, a cheeky suggestion you tossed at Kenny while watching an episode in bed, your head on his chest, his laugh bouncing through you like bass. He was eating grapes. You were stealing them.

"Imagine us on this podcast" You mumbled between bites.

"What would we even talk about?" Kenny said as he glanced down, amused. 

"I'd tell them about the first time you tried to flirt with me" You said.

"Nooo, allow it. That wasn't even flirting, that was tactical stuttering" Kenny said as he groaned.

But apparently, the universe or maybe just Harry Pinero and Darkest Man heard your wish. Because two weeks later, Kenny grinned across the kitchen table, toast in one hand, phone in the other.

"They want us on" Kenny said.

"Who?" You asked as you blinked. 

"Darkest and Harry"  Kenny said.

////_////_////_/////

You walked into the studio holding Kenny's hand, and it felt like the air itself crackled with good vibes. Lights were low and golden, like a cozy bar after hours, your fingers laced snug with his and he gave you that grin, the one that always made you feel like the only girl in London.

"You nervous?" Kenny asked, bumping your shoulder playfully.

"A little" You admitted. 

"But more excited than nervous. I get to tell embarrassing stories about you on camera" You added.

"After you, then" Kenny said as he chuckled, opening the door and gesturing with an exaggerated bow. 

The studio smelled like fresh coffee and rubber mic covers, and the space had that cozy, cluttered charm of creative chaos. Random frames of random people with no context lined the walls, past guests, inside jokes.

You spotted them instantly. Darkest was sat in a couch, humming tunelessly, while Harry poked at his mic in front of him with mock seriousness.

"Ah! The lovebirds have landed!" Harry said, standing and opening his arms. 

"Kenny and his better half" Darkest said.

You grinned, giving Harry a hug and waving at Darkest, who promptly stood up and attempted a bow so deep he nearly toppled over.

Kenny just smiled and gave you that look. The one that said, don't say anything too mad. You smiled sweetly back.

"Ready to spill some tea?" Darkest asked.

"Boiling" You replied.

Soon, the four of you were seated around the table, each with a mic, water bottle, and bowl of colorful sweets. Cameras were on. 

"Alright" Harry said, clapping once. 

"Welcome to another episode of Old & Bald. We've got a very special guest--two, actually. The lovely, terrifyingly funny Y/N and her boyfriend, the man who dodges punches and jokes with equal finesse, King Kenny!" Harry added as the room erupted in claps.

Everyone laughed.

"So, you two. How long you been together?" Harry asked as he leaned forward. 

"Almost two years" Kenny said, glancing at you with a little smile.

"And you still like each other?" Darkest asked, eyebrows raised.

"Debatable" You said, jokingly.

"Oh no, fair enough" Darkest said as he sat up straighter. 

"So tell us how you bagged her, bruv. Because it's giving 'out of your league" Harry asked.

"Wow, immediate violence. This is how you lot wanna welcome me in your show yeah?" Kenny said as he chuckled.

"I was minding my business, and this man slid into my DMs using... get this... a 'family guy' meme" You said as you leaned into the mic. 

"NAH. Kenny, say it's not true." Harry said as he slapped the table.

"It was a good meme!" Kenny protested, ears turning red.

"He sent Peter Griffin falling down the stairs and the caption said 'Me, falling for you" You said as you wiped an imaginary tear.

"You're telling me this is how you landed her?" Darkest said as he howled. 

"It worked, didn't it?" Kenny said as he shrugged, smug now.

You told stories like that for an hour. Little things, how Kenny once accidentally took you to a cat cafe even though you were allergic, how you helped him pick out a new outfit and it ended up matching yours a little tooperfectly, how he talks in his sleep and once asked you to "pass the boxing gloves, darling" at 3 a.m.

In between stories, Harry and Darkest added their own chaos, asking rapid-fire questions like 

"Who's more dramatic?" Harry asked.

"Her" Kenny said instantly.

"What would you do if you woke up and swapped bodies for a day?" Darkest asked.

"I'd stare at myself in the mirror for a solid twenty minutes" You said without hesitation.

"That's a bit weird" Kenny said as he raised his eyebrows. 

"I'd just want to know what it's like to be a fighting machine. You'd probably spend the whole day in bed watching rom-coms" You said.

"That... is accurate" Kenny said defeatedly as he nodded thoughtfully. 

You laughed so hard your ribs hurt. The set felt like a warm living room where you forgot the cameras were on. You leaned your head against Kenny's shoulder while he spoke about how proud he was of you starting your art page, how he kept all the little doodles you left in his boxing bag.

"That's disgustingly sweet. Get out" Harry said as he leaned in. 

"Simps, both of you" Darkest said as he tossed a marshmallow at Kenny. 

You thought the episode would wind down then but Harry leaned forward, elbows on the table, suddenly serious.

"So like... how do you lot make it work?" Harry asked.

"Huh?" You asked as you blinked. 

"This industry is mad, man. Socials, dms, pressure but you two look solid" Harry said.

Kenny's hand found yours. His thumb brushed a slow circle over your knuckle.

"We talk. And when that doesn't work... we argue. Then talk again" You said as you smiled.

"Also she's the only one who'll tell me when I've got something on my face before shoots" Kenny said. 

"And he's the only one who doesn't flinch when I cry during sad moments of an animated movies" You said.

You looked at each other. There was a warmth there that wasn't performative. Just honest.

"I can't lie, that's probably the best way to put it" Kenny said.

"Deep, now tell us your most toxic fight" Darkest said as he nodded like he'd learned something. 

Kenny nearly choked on his drink.

"Do we tell them about the Ikea incident?" You said as you cackled. 

"NO--" Kenny said.

"Oh, you have to now" Darkest said.

You told them everything.

The infamous Ikea fight where you two tried to assemble a bookshelf and ended up building the entire thing backwards.

"I told him the manual was upside-down" You said.

"And I said she was holding it upside-down" Kenny countered.

"It had pictures, Kenny!" You said.

The boys were dying. Darkest laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair.

"And the best part" You said.

"We still kept the shelf. It's holding our matching mugs now" You added.

"That is the cutestbeef I've ever heard" Harry said as he wiped his eyes. 

As the episode wound down, the energy was electric and light. Harry gave you the outro cue.

"Any last words, Y/N?" Harry asked.

"Love each other even when you're ridiculous. And if your boyfriend sleep-talks, record it" You said as you leaned into the mic. 

"She has a whole compilation" Kenny said as he groaned. 

"Drop the tapes!" Darkest shouted.

Everyone laughed again.

As you walked out, hand in hand with Kenny, the sky was ink-dark and full of stars. You felt light and silly and full of joy.

"That was fun" You said.

"I liked seeing you talk like that. You're funny, you know?" Kenny said as he smiled.

"I know. I was the best part" You said as you bumped your shoulder into his.

"Yeah, yeah. Go on, be smug" Kenny said as he laughed, head tilted back.

Outside, the night air was crisp. London felt alive.

You looked at him, at the boy who once sent you memes and now held your heart.

"You know" You said.

"I think this means we're official now" You added.

"We weren't before?" Kenny asked as he raised a brow.

"Podcast official is the highest level" You said.

"Better update my bio then" Kenny said, teasingly.

You laughed all the way to his car.

- end -

Hello lovelies!!! It's nice to be back posting here, I've got a lot lines up lmao.

I hope y'all have an amazing day, absolute love and guidance.

As I said everytime, send in some request and ideas!!

[4m0r1m]

PLEASE

Make requests please 🙌☺️

[4m0r1m]

I Didn't Want To Lose You

SUMMARY: You never understood why Ellie started hating you. One day she was teasing you with smirks and dry jokes, the next she couldn’t stand to be near you. But now, with blood soaking through your jacket and her hands trembling against your skin, you finally see the truth in her eyes.

WORD COUNT: 3,237 words

PAIRING: ellie willams x reader

You never understood why Ellie started hating you.

It wasn’t always like this. There was a time when she used to smile when you walked into a room. She’d make sarcastic comments that weren’t exactly mean, just sharp enough to make your cheeks burn. There was warmth in her then—something careful, buried deep, but real.

And then, one day, it disappeared.

No argument. No incident. No words exchanged. She just flipped a switch, and suddenly you were the last person she wanted to see. If she could avoid you, she would. If she couldn’t, she’d be cold, clipped, or outright cruel. The rest of Jackson had no idea what happened. Neither did you.

You asked Jesse once.

“She’s weird,” he said, with a shrug that didn’t hide the hint of worry in his voice. “You didn’t do anything. She just… shuts people out sometimes.”

But that didn’t help the way it gnawed at your chest.

Especially not today.

The air outside is bitter and sharp as you saddle up, snowflakes drifting lazily down as you tie your pack. Jesse’s voice carries across the stable.

“You and Ellie are on patrol. East route.”

You freeze. Of course. Of course it’s you and her.

You glance over your shoulder. Ellie’s already pulling herself onto her horse, barely sparing you a glance. Her jaw is tight. She doesn't say a word.

Great.

You mount up silently, trailing behind her as the two of you head out of the gates. The quiet between you is deafening. Only the soft clop of hooves and the whistle of wind fills the space.

The cold bites through your gloves. You tug your scarf higher and try not to think about how far this patrol is going to stretch. The East route isn’t short. You’ll be stuck with her for hours.

And she still won’t look at you.

The snow crunches under your boots as you dismount at the first checkpoint, a partially collapsed cabin half-buried beneath frost. Ellie hops down without a sound and begins her sweep. You follow behind, keeping your distance.

Your mind drifts—like it always does—back to the day it all changed.

You were laughing at something Dina had said. Ellie was walking past, and you turned to greet her. Just a simple “Hey.”

She looked at you like you were something stuck to her boot.

After that, the walls went up.

You tried once—just once—to ask what you’d done.

“Did I… piss you off or something?”

She scoffed, not even looking at you. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

That was months ago.

Back in the cabin, you both move in silence. You clear the back rooms, she checks the kitchen and front. When you return, she’s crouched over an old drawer, rummaging.

You lean against the doorway. “Nothing upstairs.”

She doesn’t respond. Just closes the drawer with a snap and brushes past you, the touch of her shoulder colder than the air outside.

You sigh.

“Y’know, this would be a lot easier if you weren’t pretending I don’t exist.”

Ellie freezes. Just for a second. Then straightens up, not turning around.

“You done?” she says quietly.

You blink. “What?”

“I said, are you done?”

Her voice is low, tight with something you can’t quite name. Anger? Hurt?

Before you can respond, she pushes the door open and walks out into the snow.

You follow. Because what else can you do?

You’re halfway through the forest when it happens.

The snow makes everything feel muffled—like the world is holding its breath. The trees close in tight, branches heavy with white. You and Ellie walk on foot now, horses tied back a ways. It’s quiet. Still.

Too still.

The infected come fast. A screamer first, then two runners. You dispatch one easily, but the other—larger, faster—catches you off-guard. It barrels into you, teeth snapping, and knocks you to the ground.

Your shoulder slams into a rock.

Pain flares white-hot.

“Shit!” you gasp, kicking out wildly. Your knife slips from your hand.

The runner snarls, pressing down on your chest. You scream for Ellie—then hear the blast of her shotgun. The weight on you goes slack.

Ellie’s above you in a flash, face pale, eyes wide. “Fuck, fuck—are you okay?”

You blink up at her, dazed. Her hands are on you, checking your side, your shoulder.

You wince hard. “Think it’s dislocated.”

“Shit,” she breathes, visibly shaken. “Okay, okay. Hold on.”

You’ve never heard her sound like this before—scared.

“Ellie—”

“Shut up. Just breathe.” Her voice cracks. “Don’t talk.”

She kneels beside you, her hands trembling as she takes off her backpack and rummages for supplies. You watch her through the blur of pain—how her brow furrows, how she keeps glancing at you like she’s terrified you’ll disappear.

You can’t help it. “Why… do you care?”

Her hand stills.

She doesn’t look at you. Not yet. Just wraps your arm in a makeshift sling, movements stiff and silent.

Then she sits back, snow crunching beneath her. Her breath comes out in a shaky cloud.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” she whispers.

Your heartbeat slows. Or maybe it skips.

“What?”

She finally looks at you. Her green eyes are glassy now, the cold turning her cheeks red, but it’s not the wind making her look like this.

“I didn’t tell you sooner because—” Her voice breaks. She swallows. “Because every time I care about someone, they get ripped away from me. Joel. Riley. My fucking parents. Everyone.”

She looks away.

“I thought if I pushed you away first, I could stop it before it happened.”

You stare at her. “That’s why you’ve been—”

“Yeah,” she mutters. “A complete asshole. I know.”

Silence settles between you, thick as the falling snow.

You don’t know what to say.

Not until you see her wiping at her eyes quickly with the back of her hand.

“Ellie.”

“What?”

You shift slightly, ignoring the pain. “You didn’t lose me.”

Her gaze flicks up, hesitant. Scared.

You meet her eyes. “I’m right here.”

And something in her face crumples. She leans forward, resting her forehead against your good shoulder. It’s a fragile touch, scared and desperate all at once.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” she mumbles. “You didn’t deserve any of it.”

Your uninjured arm wraps around her.

“I know,” you whisper. “But… I still care about you. Even if I don’t understand you most of the time.”

That makes her huff a laugh. Wet. Shaky. Real.

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.”

You sit like that for a while—two bodies in the snow, hearts beating fast against the cold, years of fear and loss held between you.

And somehow, something begins to thaw.

Later, when you both get back to Jackson and your shoulder’s properly set, Ellie lingers at the door of the infirmary.

You glance up. “You heading out?”

She shifts awkwardly, hands shoved in her pockets. “Only if you want me to.”

You pause.

“Ellie.”

“What?”

“Stay.”

Her eyes soften, a flicker of hope breaking through the guilt.

She sits beside you.

This time, you’re the one who reaches out.

A/N: sorry for not posting for a while but I'm here now!! finals are destroying and I need a vacation soooo I'll see if I can post anything more!

[4m0r1m]

Sorry for not posting anything guys😭😭 I’m on vacation but I’ll try to post something later this day.

[4m0r1m]

Early in the Morning - Chunkz

Summary: While Chunkz returns home after a sleepless filming challenge, you quietly share a slow, tender morning together.

Pairing: Chunkz x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist.

Note: I am SO BACK, I miss writing for Chunkz. My man fr.

You're in Atlanta with your boyfriend. Well, he is needed here for filming, mainly for the collaboration with another youtube group managed by other management.

You came along because he wanted you to come. If Chunkz was to work then he wanted to come home being with you in the place the both of you will be staying at temporarily while being in Atlanta.

You took a leave from your work and you packed your things mainly essentially.

Staying at the place was really bad. You've got nothing else to do besides waiting for him to come back after filming and being a guest on streams.

Chunkz told you that you should go for a stroll at some mall for shopping, have your nails or hair done sometimes but strolling by yourself wasn't your thing anyways.

You're barely sleeping one morning, the sun shining can be seen through outside giving a sign that it's nearly morning.

Knowing that you're alone kinda makes you a bit lazy to do anything since it's early morning.

Your boyfriend is gone to another filming and hasn't came home since yesterday due to their filming for another last to fall asleep but this time they are collaborating with AMP squad.

He's probably gonna come home sooner or later this morning. If the challenge is still going, then they have been awake for literally over 24 hours by now.

Well technically, you've woken up an hour ago. Already finished making and eating breakfast and deciding to go back to bed since you have nothing else to do.

Feeling a movement in the bed, shifting at the other side opposite to yours. You opened your eyes seeing your boyfriend now laying besides you.

You turned to face him and just stared at him, due to just waking up and well, he's just nice to stare at sometimes to admire his face. He noticed you woke up and now staring at him.

"Did I woke you up? Sorry bout that" He said.

You shook your head slightly in response as he moved closer to you now that he knows you're awake.

"Was barely sleeping when you came in" You said.

"How's work? Did you win?" You asked being curious about his work since he had mentioned about a competition about lasting not to sleep.

"Nah I didn't, but I got 5 grand on me as an offer to be eliminated" He smiled lazily due to tiredness.

"That's a fair trade, half the price" You said.

"I think Niko and Aj have a high chance of winning" He said. He really loves his brothers so much and you loved him for that.

"I know that Niko is not giving up" You said. Having too much confidence to your friends.

"I'm in the top 4 though, I'm cool with that, you know what I mean?" He said with a proud smile.

"You did great, you should be proud" You said to him. He rarely wins challenge but that's besides the point.

He hummed in response. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. He missed you next to him already after a long day of not seeing each other.

"There's breakfast in the kitchen if you want to eat, I can reheat it for you" You said to him.

"Nah, I'm not feeling it" He said, nuzzling his head closer to your neck.

"Go get some sleep then, you deserve it" You said.

"I'll take you out for anything you want later when I wake up" He said barely audible.

"We're going shopping then? Nando's afterwards" You stated not moving, letting him embrace you.

"Yeah" He said, fully closing his eyes by now.

Usually you'd argue about him always paying for you whenever you guys go out. It's not that you didn't want to be treated sometimes but him paying everytime doesn't sound fair when you can really afford to pay for yourself.

You always point out that you can pay for yourself but he always said that it's on him, saying that he initiated it then he's going to pay for it.

It'll basically end up as a pointless argument and then he'll have his way eventually. You didn't have energy to argue about it now but maybe later.

You let him get some sleep and ended up falling asleep as well. Sleeping in peace next to your man.

At least you'll have some time with him spending money for both of your fits and have a nice date together. That's a story for another time. 

- end -

Hello lovelies!!! So, I am super sorry for ghosting for days lmao HHAHAAHAHA but I am here now.

[4m0r1m]

😭😭😭

"they were walking side by side from the very start"

[4m0r1m]

Moonlight and Mischief

SUMMARY: At Bill and Fleur’s wedding, George Weasley can't take his eyes off you—Fleur’s charming and seemingly shy cousin. But when he finally gathers the courage to ask you to dance, he discovers you're far more playful and bold than he expected. What starts as a teasing flirtation under fairy lights soon sparks something deeper. (fluff)

WORD COUNT: 2,727 words

PAIRING: george weasley x reader

The Burrow had never looked quite so magical. Strings of golden fairy lights hovered in mid-air, twisting like fireflies above long wooden tables set with delicate china and platters of French delicacies. The garden, usually wild with weeds and gnome holes, had been transformed into a tapestry of summer blooms and fluttering white silk. A string quartet played beneath a floating canopy, and laughter rippled through the warm evening air.

George Weasley leaned against a tree just outside the circle of celebration, a glass of champagne cradled in his hand, watching the guests swirl around the dance floor. He’d been scanning the crowd for you all night—not that he’d admit it out loud.

You stood out like moonlight on the lake. Dressed in a flowing lavender gown that hugged your figure just enough to be elegant and left enough to the imagination, you were a vision. Your hair, loosely curled and swept to one side, framed a face he couldn’t stop looking at. Fleur’s cousin, they’d said. Maid of honour. French, like Fleur, but with a softness to your voice that hinted at long summers spent somewhere warmer, slower, sweeter.

George swallowed hard and looked away, trying to appear nonchalant. His twin brother, Fred, didn’t miss the glance.

“Oh, Merlin,” Fred drawled, sidling up beside him. “You’re staring again.”

“I am not,” George muttered.

Fred tilted his head dramatically. “Then I suppose you’ve just got a kink for tree bark. Honestly, mate, it’s getting embarrassing.”

George sipped his champagne and didn’t reply. But his eyes flicked back toward you—just for a second.

Fred followed his gaze and grinned. “You’ve got it bad.”

George gave a long-suffering sigh. “She’s Fleur’s cousin. Practically royalty in this setting. I don’t think she even knows I exist.”

“Oh, please,” Fred scoffed. “You’re the best man. That makes you the other half of the wedding's royal couple. It’s practically your moral duty to talk to her.”

George didn’t reply, but he didn’t move either.

Fred leaned in. “Unless you want me to do it for you.”

That got George moving.

He placed his glass on the nearest table and straightened his jacket, brushing imaginary dust off his lapels. “Fine. But if I make a complete fool of myself, I’m hexing your eyebrows off.”

Fred smirked, already smug. “Deal.”

George made his way across the lawn, weaving between guests, his heart thudding harder with every step. You stood near the edge of the dance floor, chatting to Gabrielle and sipping something pale and sparkling. Up close, you were even more breathtaking. There was something effortless about you—the way you laughed, head tilted slightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. The world seemed to hush as he reached you.

You noticed him before he could open his mouth. You turned slightly, one eyebrow raised, your lips curving with mild interest.

“Bonsoir,” you said lightly, your accent melodic. “The famous George Weasley, yes?”

He blinked. “You know who I am?”

“Of course. Fred’s slightly less troublemaking twin. The one with the better smile.”

George chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that.”

You tilted your head. “Should I be worried that you’re here to ask something scandalous? Or is this the part where you finally ask me to dance?”

He laughed, caught off guard. “You don’t miss a beat, do you?”

Your grin widened, mischief flickering in your eyes. “Non. But I do love a bit of fun. Especially if it includes a handsome redhead.”

George was stunned into silence for a moment. You had looked like the sort who’d demurely decline a compliment, maybe blush and say something polite. Not the sort to tease him with a cheeky smile and a directness that made his chest flutter.

He offered his hand, bowing slightly. “Then I’d be a fool not to oblige. May I have this dance, mademoiselle?”

You pretended to consider, fingers tapping your glass. “Hmm… Only if you promise not to step on my toes.”

“I’ll do my best. But I can’t make any guarantees—I’m a Weasley, we’re known for causing chaos.”

You took his hand with a smirk. “Well then, Monsieur Chaos. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

He led you onto the floor just as the quartet transitioned into a slower, more romantic number. He placed a hand on your waist, surprisingly tentative for someone so often loud and full of bravado. You noticed the way he looked at you, unsure yet enchanted.

“You really don’t talk much, do you?” you teased, swaying with him under the floating lights.

“I do,” George said, eyes locked on yours. “Just… not when I’m this distracted.”

“By me?”

He nodded. “I thought you’d be shy. Quiet. But you’re not. You’re trouble in a dress, aren’t you?”

You laughed, genuine and bright. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all night.”

The dance was slow but full of tension, the good kind. He spun you gently, guiding you back with ease. The warmth of his hand on your back, the closeness of your bodies, the scent of cinnamon and something woodsy clinging to his jacket—it all made your head feel a little light.

“Fred said you were staring at me,” you said, tone teasing.

George flushed. “Did he now?”

“He also said you had a crush.”

George raised an eyebrow. “Did he also mention he talks complete rubbish after two firewhiskies?”

You smirked. “So… you weren’t staring?”

He leaned in slightly, voice low. “Oh, I was. But I didn’t think you noticed.”

“I always notice,” you replied, your voice softening. “Especially when it’s someone like you.”

He blinked. “Someone like me?”

“Charming. Bit cocky. But sweet when you think no one’s looking.”

George didn’t have a response for that. He was sure he could come up with something clever, something flirty—but your words hit deeper than expected. No girl had ever summed him up so perfectly in one breath.

You twirled again, and when you came back into his arms, your expression had changed—less playful now, more sincere.

“Why didn’t you talk to me earlier?” you asked.

George shrugged. “Didn’t think I had a chance.”

You looked at him for a long moment. “You’re George Weasley. Of course you had a chance.”

He grinned then, unable to hold it back. “I’ll remind myself to have more faith in the future.”

“Please do.”

As the music wound down, neither of you moved. The guests were clapping politely for the musicians, but it felt like you and George were in a separate moment altogether, wrapped in the golden hush of twilight and the hum of something new, something exciting.

He cleared his throat. “Would it be terribly forward if I asked you for a walk? Just a short one.”

You slipped your arm through his. “It would be terribly forward if I said no.”

You strolled together toward the edge of the garden, where the noise dimmed and the stars peeked through the haze. There was a bench under a willow tree, and you sat together, your knees brushing.

“Can I ask you something?” he said after a pause.

“Of course.”

“Were you really surprised when I asked you to dance?”

You smiled at the memory. “A little. I thought you’d be more like your brother. Loud. Always performing.”

“And I’m not?”

“Not exactly. You’re… quieter. At least with me. More thoughtful.”

He looked at you, something tender in his eyes. “You bring that out of me.”

Your breath caught.

Neither of you moved, the moment stretching like taffy between you. Finally, George reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re not what I expected either,” he said quietly. “I thought you were sweet. Innocent. The kind of girl who’d run the other way from a bloke like me.”

“And now?”

“Now I think you might ruin me.”

You smiled, slow and deliberate. “Maybe I will.”

He kissed you then. Soft and careful at first, as if making sure you wouldn’t disappear. You kissed him back with a smile in your lips, one hand curling into his lapel.

When you pulled back, both of you were breathless.

George touched his forehead to yours. “This is going to be fun, isn’t it?”

You laughed. “Oh, you have no idea.”

[4m0r1m]

More Than Just A Prank

SUMMARY: After years of chaos, pranks, and pretending not to care, Niko’s jealousy finally gives him away. One kiss later, everything changes—and their legendary friendship might just become the love story no one saw coming.

WORD COUNT: 2,686 words

PAIRING: niko omilana x reader

There were two things everyone knew about you and Niko.

One: you’d been best friends since primary school, and two: you were insufferable when you were together.

Not in the awful, mean-spirited kind of way. No—your brand of chaos came in the form of pranks, inside jokes, and a total disregard for consequences whenever you were side by side. Whether it was swapping the sugar with salt in Sharky’s kitchen or convincing strangers in public that Niko was a runaway prince from a tiny island nation, the two of you thrived in shared madness.

And through it all—through birthdays, teenage angst, heartbreaks, successes—you’d never crossed that invisible line between “best friends” and “something more.” Even if, sometimes, the way he looked at you lingered just a second too long. Even if you sometimes caught yourself staring at his hands while he talked, wondering what it would be like to hold them without it being a joke.

But neither of you dared to speak it. You were too afraid of ruining what you had.

“Alright,” Niko whispered beside you, eyes scanning the open plaza where your next prank was about to unfold, “you ready?”

You grinned, tucking your phone into your back pocket. “Born ready.”

The plan was simple—classic distraction-and-diversion. Niko would pretend to be an art dealer auctioning off invisible sculptures in front of a small crowd, and you’d play his dramatic ex-girlfriend, storming in with a fake letter exposing him as a fraud. All for content, obviously. But more importantly, for the thrill.

As Niko took centre stage near the fountain, you kept to the side, watching with that familiar mix of pride and second-hand embarrassment as he launched into character.

“Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you a piece worth over £10,000. Handcrafted by the air itself…”

People started to gather, curiosity piqued. You waited for the perfect moment to barge in. Just before you did, a man approached you—tall, sharp suit, and a confident smile that said he was used to getting his way.

“You part of this little stunt?” he asked, eyes flicking from Niko to you.

You smirked. “What stunt?”

He chuckled, clearly entertained. “Right. You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

He held out his hand. “James.”

You didn’t take it. “I’m busy.”

James didn’t seem to care. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “Come on, you’re too pretty to be caught up in fake art sales. How about you ditch this and let me buy you a proper drink?”

Before you could respond, a shadow appeared at your side. Niko.

“Everything alright here?” he asked, voice casual—but with an edge.

James glanced at him. “We were just talking.”

Niko’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Doesn’t look like she was enjoying the conversation.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly. You’d seen Niko annoyed before—usually when someone spoiled a film or ate the last slice of pizza without asking. But this? This was different.

James scoffed, raising his hands. “Didn’t realise I needed permission.”

“You don’t,” Niko said smoothly. “You just need to learn how to take a hint.”

James narrowed his eyes but backed off, muttering something under his breath as he walked away.

The second he was out of earshot, you turned to Niko. “What was that?”

He shrugged, still watching the man’s retreating figure. “He was a creep.”

“I had it under control.”

“I know.” He paused. “Didn’t like the way he was looking at you, that’s all.”

Your heart stuttered. It wasn’t what he said. It was how he said it—low, sincere, and unguarded. Like he hadn’t meant to admit it out loud.

“Why?” you asked, quietly.

Niko blinked. “What?”

“Why didn’t you like it?”

There was a beat of silence. And for once, the air between you didn’t feel playful. It felt… fragile.

“Because,” he said slowly, “I don’t like other people thinking they can have you.”

The words hit harder than expected. You stared at him, your usual grin forgotten.

“Niko…”

He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Look, maybe this is the worst idea I’ve ever had, and God knows I’ve had some bad ones—but I need to say this.”

You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

“I think I’ve been in love with you for a while,” he admitted. “And I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to lose you. But seeing that guy—watching him look at you like you were some prize—it made me realise I’d rather take the risk than stay silent.”

Your heart thudded in your ears. “You’re in love with me?”

“I think I always have been,” he said, almost sheepishly. “Even back when we used to sneak out of school to get ice cream and lie about it to your mum.”

A laugh bubbled out of you—half nerves, half disbelief. “You idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“You absolute idiot.”

“Is that a good ‘idiot’ or a bad one?”

You stepped forward, closing the gap between you. “Good. Very good.”

He smiled, relief flooding his face.

Then, without thinking, you reached up and kissed him.

It wasn’t fireworks. It wasn’t a cinematic moment set to music.

It was real.

Warm, soft, and years in the making.

When you pulled away, Niko stared at you like you’d just rewritten the laws of gravity.

“So…” he breathed. “This is happening?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s happening.”

He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “Still wanna do the prank?”

You laughed. “We already caused a scene. Might as well commit.”

He grinned, grabbing the fake letter from your pocket. “Then let’s cause chaos—as a couple.”

“Ugh. We’re going to be even more annoying, aren’t we?”

“Absolutely.”

Later that night, after you’d posted the prank video and ignored the group chat’s cries of “I KNEW IT,” you lay next to him on the sofa, shoulders touching, his arm draped lazily over yours.

“You’re my best friend, you know,” you said softly.

He turned his head to look at you. “You’re mine.”

“But now you’re also my boyfriend.”

“Bit weird, innit?”

“The best kind of weird.”

He smiled, and the look in his eyes told you one thing for sure:

This friendship was never going to be ruined. It had just levelled up.

[4m0r1m]

Sleep & Confessions

SUMMARY: After his third divorce, James Wilson seeks comfort in the home of his lifelong best friend. But one drunken heart-to-heart reveals a love that’s been quietly waiting all along—changing everything with a single kiss. (fluff)

WORD COUNT: 2,187 words

PAIRING: james wilson x reader

The rain had been falling in relentless sheets for hours now, painting streaks down the living room windows as if nature itself mourned alongside him. The soft hum of the television was the only sound competing with the rhythmic patter of water on glass, but neither he nor she was paying attention to the old black-and-white film playing. They’d seen it a hundred times.

James Wilson sat hunched at one end of the couch, one leg tucked underneath him, nursing the last half of a whiskey he’d barely touched. His suit jacket lay crumpled on the floor, tie loosened, shirt untucked. He looked worn out, not just physically, but spiritually—like a man who had misplaced every version of himself he’d ever been.

The reader, his best friend for over two decades, sat opposite him with her legs pulled up, a blanket draped over her lap, and a glass of wine in hand. She was watching him rather than the film, her heart a tangle of compassion and something far deeper—something more dangerous.

James was crashing on her couch again. His third divorce finalised just two days ago, and this time, he hadn’t even pretended to cope alone. He’d shown up on her doorstep in the rain, suitcase in hand, half-heartedly joking about how she might want to install a guest room just for him. She’d hugged him without a word and cooked him dinner before he could even change his shirt.

“You know,” he muttered now, voice hoarse from disuse, “I think I might just be... fundamentally broken.”

She tilted her head. “Don’t say that.”

“No, really.” He gestured vaguely with his glass. “Three marriages. Three failures. All of them started with such optimism. And ended like this. Me. On your couch. Again.”

He tried to laugh, but it came out more like a sigh. His eyes—still so soft, so intelligent—were clouded with self-doubt.

She hesitated. Her fingers tightened slightly around the stem of her glass. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right person.”

“Or maybe,” he said, looking at her now—really looking—“I’m not meant to find her. Maybe I was built for short sprints, not marathons. Maybe I’m just... not built for forever.”

The words settled between them like fog. She turned her gaze back to the flickering television screen, trying to pretend her heart hadn’t clenched. She’d always been there. Always. Through every wedding, every divorce, every night he called too late asking if she wanted to grab food because he couldn’t stand his own thoughts. She knew the real him—not just the polished oncologist with the gentle voice and kind eyes. She knew the version that broke, over and over again, and kept pretending he didn’t.

“James,” she said quietly, “can I tell you something?”

He blinked. “Of course. What is it?”

She set down her wine glass on the coffee table and folded her legs under herself properly, heart pounding like a drum in her chest. Her mouth felt dry. It was terrifying to say it—to finally speak what had lingered in the shadows for so long.

“I’ve loved you,” she said, voice barely a whisper, “for a long time.”

He didn’t move. For a moment, it felt like the world stopped spinning.

“I didn’t say anything because... well, you always seemed to be falling in love with someone else. And I didn’t want to be one more person who got added to the list. But I’ve always been here. I’ve always seen you.”

His brow furrowed slightly, the weight of her words pressing on him as though the very foundation of his reality had shifted.

“I thought you were just—” He faltered. “I mean, I knew we were close, but...”

“I never expected anything from you,” she continued, biting her lip. “I never wanted to complicate your life more than it already was. But I can’t sit here tonight and listen to you say you’re not meant for forever when I’ve spent all these years waiting to show you that you are.”

His hand ran through his hair, tousling the curls at the back of his head. “Jesus…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she added quickly. “It’s just... I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

For a moment, silence reigned—thick and trembling. Then, slowly, James reached across the couch. His hand found hers, warm and hesitant, and he held it like it was fragile.

“You’ve always been the one constant,” he said, voice cracking. “The one person who never walked away. And I was so damn blind.”

She shook her head, eyes welling. “You weren’t blind. You were just trying to survive.”

He leaned closer, their faces just inches apart now. The room seemed to shrink around them, the sound of the rain dulling into white noise.

“You mean it?” he asked. “You’ve really... loved me this whole time?”

She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Yeah. I really have.”

His lips brushed hers so gently at first it felt like a dream. But then he kissed her again—deeper, with years of longing wrapped into a single touch. His hand came up to cup her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek, and she felt herself melt into him completely. The years, the pain, the what-ifs—they all slipped away in that kiss.

When they parted, she gave him a watery smile.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch tonight,” she said softly.

James looked at her, and in his eyes was something she hadn’t seen in him for a very long time—peace.

He nodded, slowly, like he was letting go of a lifetime of grief.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

They walked to the bedroom together, fingers intertwined. No fanfare. No fireworks. Just quiet understanding and something sacred building between them. She pulled back the covers, and he lay down beside her, still dressed in his rumpled clothes. She curled into his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her, his chin resting gently atop her head.

For the first time in what felt like centuries, James Wilson slept soundly. And beside him, the woman who had always seen him for exactly who he was—flaws, kindness, and all—finally felt whole.

The rain slowed to a drizzle. The house, once filled with quiet ache, now held something gentler: the sound of two hearts finally resting in rhythm.

A/N: Hope you like it!!

[4m0r1m]

Like Me

SUMMARY: In a world scarred by silence and survival, love finds a way to whisper hope… (fluff)

WORD COUNT: 1,470 words

PAIRING: henry burrell x reader

DISCLAIMER: So I just want you guys to know that I know that Henry died with Sam (I played the game and see the series) but he's so beautiful, how could I not make an imagine where everything's alright??!!!

Winter had fallen soft over Jackson.

Thick snow clung to the rooftops and treetops, a hush settled over the streets, and for the first time in months — no, years — the world felt still. Safe. Human.

Your boots crunched quietly along the frozen path leading up to the small cabin you, Henry, and Sam now called home. Smoke rose from the chimney. A warm glow flickered behind the curtains. Somewhere inside, Sam was probably drawing, and Henry was likely pacing as he always did when you were out of sight longer than ten minutes.

He’s going to lose it when I tell him.

The thought alone made you smile — and wrap your coat tighter around yourself.

When you first met Henry and Sam, the world hadn’t given you much to smile about. You were passing through Kansas City, keeping your head down and your knife close, and they were just trying to survive the day. Sam had taken to you instantly — curious and sweet — and Henry had… well, Henry had tried not to.

You caught him watching you when he thought you weren’t looking. Protective, sharp-eyed, always tense. But there was something gentle underneath it all. Something careful. You didn’t blame him for guarding it.

By the time you reached the outskirts of Wyoming together, his hand had found yours more than once. And when Jackson opened its gates, they didn’t just take in two brothers and a stray woman — they took in a family.

The cabin smelled like stew when you opened the door.

“Hey!” Sam greeted you with a wide grin, flipping his sketchbook closed and jumping off the couch. His fingers moved quickly, signing, You took forever. Henry was gonna go look for you.

“Sorry, bud,” you laughed, ruffling his hair. “I got distracted by Maria. She caught me for a chat about the market stalls.”

Sam rolled his eyes in mock sympathy and disappeared back to the sofa. You closed the door and turned — and there he was.

Henry stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

“You alright?” he asked, voice casual, but the worry showed in the tight set of his jaw.

“Of course I am,” you said, stepping closer. “Just… needed a walk.”

He pulled you into a hug without another word, wrapping his arms around you like the world still might try to steal you away.

“I hate when you do that,” he murmured into your hair.

“What?”

“Leave without saying why.”

“I was nervous.”

That made him lean back, eyes scanning your face. “Nervous about what?”

You chewed your lip.

And then — you took his hand, led him gently to the armchair by the fire, and sat down opposite. Sam glanced over, but didn’t interrupt. He knew your “serious face” by now.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” you said softly.

Henry tilted his head.

“Okay. Should I be worried?”

You let out a soft breath and reached into your coat pocket, pulling out the small square you’d been keeping there all day — a scrap of cloth you’d stitched, in secret, for weeks now. When you unfolded it, the tiny symbol you’d embroidered sat in the centre:

A star. A heart. And beneath it... a rattle.

Henry stared at it.

Then back at you.

Then down again.

“Is this—” His voice broke. “Wait. Wait, is this what I think it is?”

You nodded, lip trembling.

“I’m pregnant, Henry.”

The silence stretched for just a heartbeat.

Then his eyes went wide.

“No shit?”

You laughed through a watery smile. “No shit.”

“You’re serious?”

You took his hand and placed it gently over your stomach. It was still flat, still quiet — but something flickered there now. Something new. Something alive.

He inhaled like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

Then suddenly — he was on the floor in front of you, on his knees, both hands cupping your waist like you might float away if he let go.

“Holy crap,” he whispered. “Holy crap, baby. We’re— We’re having a baby?”

Tears welled in your eyes. “Yeah.”

He kissed your stomach. Just once. Gentle. Then looked up at you like you’d just told him you’d rebuilt the moon.

“You’re amazing,” he said. “You’re— God, I don’t even have a word for it. I’m freaking out.”

“Good freaking out or bad?”

“The best kind,” he laughed, resting his head against your stomach. “Like... end-of-the-world-miracle kind.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, heart full to bursting.

Later, after dinner, you found Sam in his room — legs kicked up, drawing what looked like a knight fighting a dinosaur.

“Hey,” you said, tapping the doorway.

He looked up, grinning, and signed, Henry’s been smiling like crazy. Did you tell him something funny?

You chuckled and crossed the room, sitting beside him.

“Something even better,” you signed slowly, careful with your fingers. We’re going to have a baby.

Sam blinked.

Then again.

Then his mouth dropped open and he jumped to his feet. WHAT?!

You laughed as he signed excitedly: For real? Like a real baby? Is it gonna live here with us?!

Henry walked in just in time to see Sam launching into a flurry of signs.

“We told him,” you said over your shoulder.

“I can tell,” Henry grinned, stepping in. “Sam—hey—slow down, slow down.”

Sam spun to face him, signed with wide eyes, Is the baby gonna be like me? Deaf?

Henry paused.

Then crossed the room and dropped to Sam’s eye level.

“I don’t know, buddy,” he said gently. “It might be. It might not.”

Sam looked uncertain.

“But listen to me,” Henry said, touching his arm to get his attention. “If the baby is like you, then that’s a blessing. You hear me? That’s the best thing that could happen.”

Sam's shoulders relaxed. Then he signed, Can I teach them how to sign?

You beamed.

Henry ruffled his curls. “You’re gonna be the best big brother in the world.”

That night, Henry hardly slept.

He tossed and turned, arm draped over your waist, occasionally sitting up to check that the covers hadn’t slipped below your belly. At one point, you stirred and caught him staring at the ceiling, eyes glassy.

“You okay?” you murmured.

“I don’t know how to do this.”

You turned to face him. “Henry—”

“No, I mean, I want to. God, I want to. I’m just scared. I couldn’t even keep Sam safe. Not really. I couldn’t protect him from what happened to us before. And now we’ve got a baby coming, and it’s like—what if I mess this up too?”

You reached for his hand under the blanket.

“You didn’t mess up, Henry. You saved Sam. You got him here. You protected both of us when we didn’t have anything. That’s what a father does. You already are one.”

He exhaled shakily.

“Do you think they’ll be safe here?” he asked.

You paused.

“I think this place is as close as we’ll ever get to safe. And whatever happens... we’ll face it together.”

Henry kissed your forehead.

“I love you.”

You smiled in the dark.

“I love you more.”

The following weeks flew by.

Everyone in Jackson quickly noticed the change — Henry was even more attentive than usual. He insisted on carrying anything heavier than a loaf of bread. He asked Maria a million questions about the clinic. He started building a second crib for Sam’s stuffed animals “for practice.”

Sam, meanwhile, was beside himself with excitement. He drew picture after picture of you with a baby bump, you holding a swaddled newborn, Henry crying (which you loved), and himself wearing a superhero cape labelled “Best Brother Ever.”

Your belly grew. So did your heart.

One evening, Henry stood behind you in the mirror, hands around your waist, gently rubbing the swell beneath your shirt.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “God, you’re glowing.”

“I look like I ate an entire bear.”

“You look perfect.”

You smirked. “You always say that when I’m grumpy and sore.”

“That’s because I always mean it.”

You leaned back into him, closing your eyes.

“I can’t wait to meet them,” you murmured. “To see you hold them.”

“I think about it every second,” he said quietly. “Every single one.”

That night, you woke up to a strange flutter in your belly.

Not painful. Not sharp.

Just... new.

You gasped, placing a hand over the spot. Then shook Henry gently awake.

“Henry,” you whispered. “They kicked.”

His eyes flew open.

“What?”

You grabbed his hand and pressed it against your stomach.

And just like that — the flutter came again.

Henry’s face crumpled with emotion.

“They’re real,” he whispered. “They’re really coming.”

You both laughed, kissed, cried a little.

And in that tiny wooden cabin, the future didn’t feel scary anymore.

It felt like hope.

A/N: MY MAN HENRY HAS TO HAVE SOME LOVE YALL!!!! HE'S LITERALLY SO CUTE AND SUCH A NICE PERSON I LOVE HIM!!!!

Also I've been working on this for a while so I hope you like it! Working already in part2.

[4m0r1m]

MASTERLIST

DR.HOUSE

Gregory House🩼

Closed Doors Til Death Do Us Part

James Wilson🩺

Sleep & Confessions

BETA SQUAD

Chunkz🎤

The Plus-One I Didn't Expect Guess The Singer

Niko🦒

Quiet Love, Loud Laughs More Than Just A Prank

AJ🐁

In Every Little Way

Sharky🦈

A Moment Together

Kenny🥊

Sparring Hearts

HARRY POTTER

Sirius Black🐕

Let It Burn

Harry Potter👓

You're So Stupid, But I Love You

George Weasley 🎆

Moonlight and Mischief

THE LAST OF US

Joel Miller🎸

Quiet Mornings

Henry Burrell💕

Like Me

Ellie Williams🦋

I Didn't Want To Lose You

[4m0r1m]

You're So Stupid, But I Love You

SUMMARY: You're scared. He's stubborn. And the Triwizard Tournament just might break you both.

WORD COUNT: 2,154 words

PAIRING: harry potter x girlfriend!reader

You’d never known fear quite like this.

It wasn’t the sort that crept up in the night or made your skin crawl — it was heavier. Sits in your chest. Dulls your appetite. Keeps you up at night staring at the ceiling of the girls’ dormitory with tears drying on your cheeks and your heart pounding in your throat.

Harry had been chosen. Your Harry. Your boyfriend. Your best friend. Your world.

You could still see the blue flames spitting out that slip of parchment. “Harry Potter.” You could still hear the whispers, the betrayal in Ron’s voice, the confusion on Dumbledore’s face. But all you could feel — then and now — was fear.

And anger.

Because when you’d tried to talk to him that night, tried to beg him not to go through with it, he’d just looked at you like you didn’t understand.

“You’re not even supposed to be in it!” you’d shouted at him, your fists clenched at your sides. “This is madness, Harry. They’ve got no idea how dangerous it’s going to be! Why won’t you just—”

“I didn’t put my name in!” he barked back, eyes flashing. “You think I want this?”

“Then why are you going along with it? Why not refuse?”

“Because I can’t!” His voice cracked. “It’s some kind of magical contract — I have to compete. I didn’t ask for this. But it’s happening. And I’m not going to run away like a coward.”

You’d blinked, stunned by the weight of his words — and the way he’d looked at you. Defensive. Frustrated. Hurt.

“Fine,” you’d said coldly. “Then go ahead. Be the stupid bloody hero.”

And you’d stormed off, ignoring the sound of your name echoing behind you.

You hadn’t spoken since. He’d tried — bumping into you in the corridor, sending Hedwig with small notes, asking Hermione to intervene — but you weren’t ready.

You couldn’t bear to look him in the eye and pretend everything was fine while he stood on the edge of danger. You didn’t want to say something cruel. And truthfully, you didn’t trust yourself not to cry the second he apologised — or worse, the second he didn’t.

And now... now it was the day of the First Task.

You sat high up in the stands, knees bouncing anxiously, fingers twisted in your school scarf. The entire stadium buzzed with anticipation — students, professors, guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. All of them here to watch four students risk their lives.

You didn’t care about the others. Your eyes were only searching for one person.

And then — there he was.

Harry emerged from the tent, clutching his wand, pale but composed. His green eyes scanned the crowd nervously. And for one brief second, they found yours.

You saw it. A flicker of surprise. Then relief. Then... pain.

He still looked for you. Still wanted you there.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest.

I’m here, Harry. I’m here.

The task began. You couldn’t breathe.

The announcer’s voice faded into white noise as you watched the Hungarian Horntail rear its hideous head. The spikes. The flame. The way it charged. The entire arena gasped, but you were already on your feet, hands clutching the railing as Harry ran.

He was brilliant. Terrified, but brilliant. You screamed when he summoned his broom. You clapped when he dodged the first blast of fire. And when he soared into the air, taunting the dragon into open sky, your jaw dropped in awe.

“Come on, Harry,” you whispered, unable to tear your eyes away. “You can do this...”

And then — yes! He got the egg.

Cheers erupted all around you. But you didn’t cheer. You bolted.

You didn’t even realise you were running until you reached the tent. You ducked past a distracted official and burst through the entrance just as Harry was setting the golden egg down on a table, sweat-soaked and trembling.

He turned, startled — and froze.

“...You came.”

You didn’t say a word. You just walked up to him slowly, tears already blurring your vision. He looked rough — blood on his shirt, a burn on his arm, hair windswept and eyes wide.

But he was alive. He was okay.

And he was Harry.

“I’m still mad at you,” you said quietly, voice cracking.

“I know,” he whispered, taking a step closer.

“That was the stupidest, most reckless thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

“I know that too.”

“You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t.”

You let out a shuddering breath.

And then you threw your arms around him.

He caught you instantly, arms wrapping tight around your waist as you buried your face in his shoulder. The sobs came without warning, silent but fierce, tears soaking his robes as he stroked your back and whispered your name again and again like a prayer.

“I was so scared,” you breathed against his neck. “You absolute idiot. I couldn’t even look at you. I was just... I thought I was going to lose you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you. His face was close. Closer than it had been in weeks. You could see the little freckle near his jaw. The way his bottom lip trembled. The hurt in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to push you away. I just—everything happened so fast, and I felt like no one believed me. Not even Ron. But I never wanted to lose you.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek, thumb brushing the dirt and ash from his skin.

“You didn’t lose me, Harry. I was just too scared to watch you walk into danger without fighting it somehow.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But I had to do it. And I’m glad you came.”

Before you could reply, there was a click. Then another.

You turned sharply and spotted her.

“Rita Skeeter?” you snapped.

She lowered her enchanted camera with a wicked little smile. “Don’t mind me. Just capturing a tender moment. Readers love a good romance... especially when it’s forbidden. Tell me, dear, are you the tragic sweetheart left behind while Harry battles dragons?”

Harry growled low in his throat. “Go away.”

“Oh, but this will make such a powerful headline. ‘Boy Who Lived Finds Love on the Battlefield.’ Or perhaps something juicier — ‘Secret Girlfriend Comforts Champion Potter.’”

“I swear to Merlin—” you began, but she was already sashaying off with a smug grin and her camera in tow.

You turned back to Harry, exasperated.

“She’s vile.”

“She’s insufferable.”

You both laughed.

And just like that, the tension cracked.

Later that night, you found him alone in the common room. The fire was low, his egg was sitting unopened on the table, and he looked tired.

You sat beside him in silence. For a moment, all you did was hold his hand.

“I really thought I was going to mess it up,” he said finally. “I kept thinking about you. What you’d say if I got burnt or dropped off my broom or—”

“Don’t,” you whispered. “I can’t even bear the thought of it.”

He looked at you, his eyes glassy. “You matter more to me than all of this. Than glory. Than the bloody Cup. I’m sorry I didn’t say that before.”

You blinked away tears.

“I love you,” he said simply.

You stared at him, stunned.

But it wasn’t panic that washed over you — it was peace. Like hearing something you already knew but had never dared to say aloud.

You leaned in and kissed him. Slow, tender, and warm. The kind of kiss that said please don’t do anything that dangerous again, and I forgive you, and I love you too.

When you pulled back, you were both smiling.

“You’re still stupid,” you teased gently.

“And you’re still stubborn,” he shot back.

“But we’re okay?”

“We’re okay.”

And with your head on his shoulder, the fire crackling softly beside you, the fear finally started to fade.

A/N: Please let's imagine that Harry's older than 18😭😭

Hope you like this!!

[4m0r1m]

LOVE IT.

A Little Salt, A Lotta Flirt - Chunkz

Summary: You're a special guest in ChefAsylum where you first met Darkest, Harry, and Chunkz.

Pairing: Chunkz x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist

You smile nervously at the camera as you step into the Footasylum kitchen. Your apron is tied, your ingredients are prepped, and your confidence is hanging on by a single, overcooked spaghetti strand.

You glance to the left.

Harry Pinero. Suave, tall, and he looks like he knows where the camera is at all times.

To the right?

Darkest. Mischievous smile, already sipping juice like he knows he's about to roast you within an inch of your life.

And in the middle...

Chunkz

May God have mercy on your soul.

He's smiling, dimples on full display, eyes locked on you like you're the actual main course. You immediately forget how to stand. 

Do legs bend? 

Are knees supposed to do this? 

Is this blood rushing to your face? 

Or did you just catch fire from the way he looked at you?

"Hi" You said.

Hi??? 

That's all you got???

Not "Hope you're hungry" or "Let's cook up some chemistry"?? 

Nah, just hi????

He leans back in his seat, eyes not leaving you for a second.

"You're looking like a whole Michelin star already" Chunkz said, voice smoother than the butter they have in store

Instant combustion.

You laugh awkwardly, a weird wheeze-cough hybrid that should honestly disqualify you from public life.

The kitchen lights were a little too bright. The cameras a little too close. Your nerves? Absolutely fried. You adjusted your clothes again for the third time, fidgeting with the strings like it was gonna save you.

As the camera started rolling, you heard laughter, the easy kind, the kind you always wished you could blend into.

And then, you heard him.

Chunkz's laugh, the very same rich, effortless, warm laugh. Like it belonged somewhere safe. Somewhere soft.

You peeked over your shoulder and instantly caught his eye. He was already looking at you. 

Not in a polite way. Not in a "Oh cool, new person" way. In a slow head-to-toe, bite-the-bottom-lip, lean-back-in-his-chair-because-he's-enjoying-the-view kinda way.

You looked away first. Obviously. You weren't built to survive that eye contact because what the fuck was that seriously? Who holds that eye contact for long and look really nonchalant about it like it was something normal for him?

"Alright! Today's special chef" Harry announced, gesturing to you. 

"--is gonna be cooking for these three legends!" Harry added.

Harry Pinero clapped once followed by Darkest and Chunkz beside him, sarcastic and loud. 

"Hope you can cook, man. Otherwise, this is gonna be a hostile environment" Harry said.

"Don't watch him. Just make sure my plate's bigger than his" Darkest said as he smiled over his drink. 

And Chunkz?

Chunkz didn't say anything at first.

Just gave you that slow, lopsided grin.

"You ready for me, yeah?" Chunkz said, calmly.

You blinked, having a moment of malfunctioning.

For you?

FOR YOU???

"What? I mean not specifically you" You said, pretending to focus on the cutting board.

"Of course" Chunkz said, chuckled under his breath. 

You fucked up the general knowledge question but somehow got a decent ingredients and you got to work, pretending not to feel the heat of three sets of eyes following every move you made.

The first five minutes were manageable. Until the knife slipped and a tomato went flying across the counter. To be fair, the knife was horror.

You gasped. Harry leaned over to Darkest, stage-whispering loud enough for everyone to hear.

"That tomato just filed for early retirement" Harry said, looking offended like he was the tomato itself.

Darkest choked on his water and Chunkz was just laughing, forehead resting against his hand like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Don't worry" Chunkz said, his voice way too soft for this chaotic environment. 

"Everyone needs a little warming up" Chunkz added.

And then, looking you dead in the eye.

"I'm patient. So, take your time, beautiful" Chunkz said.

"Yeah, lost your mind" Darkest said next to him as he laughed.

You nearly dropped the knife next.

You pretend to be unbothered. Cool. Chill. Unfazed but your hands are shaking like you're about to defuse a bomb instead of stirring curry.

"Why you holding the spoon like that? It's not a microphone" Darkest said as he clocked it immediately.

"They're singing for help" Harry said, without missing a beat. 

You try to flip them off with your eyes. Doesn't work.

"Don't worry, I got you. I'll be your sous chef... or your husband. Whichever works" Chunkz  said softly and grins. 

WHO ALLOWED HIM TO SAY THAT???

"Oh my god, he's actually moving mad" Harry said, gasping dramatically as he low-key smacked Darkest.

You dropped the spoon, It clangs like it's exposing you.

You are now operating on auto-pilot. You can feel him watching as you cook, which is fantastic because nothing says sexy like stress-sweating while chopping onions.

Then he appears next to you. Like... right next to you.

Did he teleport?? 

How did he get there so fast?? 

When did the laws of physics stop applying to him??

"Need a hand?" he asked, moving to your side without waiting for an answer. His shoulder brushed yours, just enough for you to feel the heat.

You tried to focus on the pan, you tried so hard.

Sir.

Sir, you might need a therapy.

"That smells nice" Chunkz murmurs, eyes flicking to your face.

"And the food's decent too" Chunkz added as he leaned down, pretending to inspect your work.

"Seasoning's good" Chunkz said lowly, so only you could hear.

"But you're looking better" Chunkz added.

You whipped your head around to glare at him, scandalized but he was already smirking, knowing exactly what he was doing.

HE NEEDS TO BE STOPPED.

YOU ARE BLUSHING SO HARD YOU MIGHT COOK YOURSELF.

Darkest caught it.

"God forbid you let them cook in peace, bruv" Darkest called out.

"Man's tryna be the side dish" Darkest added with a laugh.

"Don't worry about me, man" Chunkz said with a smug smile.

When you finally started putting the dish together. Slightly less clumsily because your inner monologue has officially left the building.

When the food was finally plated, you wiped your hands on your apron, heart hammering.

Eventually, food gets made. Somehow.

Plated, served, looking halfway edible.

You step back, breathing like you just ran a marathon.

This was it, judgement day.

Darkest took the first bite. Chewed thoughtfully.

"Okay... okay..." Darkest said, nodding slowly. 

"This is edible, I'm genuinely shocked" Darkest added.

"Don't even try it, this is nice" Harry said as he shoved him playfully. 

They argued for a bit, in the way guys do when they don't know how to give real compliments.

But Chunkz? Chunkz just watched you, swirling his fork lazily through his food without taking a bite yet.

You raised an eyebrow.

"You scared?" You teased, finally feeling a little bit brave.

Chunkz grinned.

"Nah" Chunkz said, leaning forward on his elbows, gaze heavy. 

"Just savoring the view before I tuck in" Chunkz added.

You blinked.

"Oh no, get him a leash" Darkest said as he coughed violently into his napkin. 

"Signing his life away, mad" Harry said as he just shook his head, pretending to fill out imaginary marriage papers on his plate. 

Chunkz just stared at you, fork swirling dramatically through the rice.

"I haven't even tried it yet" Chunkz said.

"I'm still full from watching you all day" Chunkz added.

EXCUSE. ME.

You choked on air. 

"Someone take his mic, man" Darkest mutters 

"Man's flirting like he's trying to get tax benefits" Harry said as he grabs his phone like he's live-tweeting. 

Chunkz shrugs, still looking at you.

"I'm just saying" Chunkz said, softer now. 

"You walk into the kitchen looking like that, of course I'm hungry" Chunkz added.

Your brain went. blown fuse. rebooting. system not found.

But for once, they didn't shout. They didn't ruin it. They just let you two... sit there. Eyes locked. Playing with fire.

Chunkz finally lifted his fork, took a bite and let out a noise that made your entire soul combust.

"Yeah" Chunkz said, eyes twinkling. 

"You're dangerous" Chunkz added. 

After filming wrapped and the cameras stopped rolling. The crew packed up. You're pretending to clean just to delay leaving. Harry and Darkest wandered off somewhere, giving you a suspicious amount of space.

You lingered by the counter, pretending to tidy up. Chunkz came up behind you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body but not quite touching but it felt like personal space is now a myth

"You did good" Chunkz said.

"Real good, impressed me" Chunkz added.

"Thanks, you weren't too bad at... distracting me" You said with a smile, looking down.

"Let me make it up to you then" Chunkz said as he let out a small smile.

"You free after this?" Chunkz asked casually, almost too casual.

"Depends, why?" You said as you glanced over your shoulder, heart stuttering.

"Thinking maybe... we skip the cameras next time. You cook for me proper, no distractions" Chunkz said as he shrugged, smiling like he already knew the answer.

You tried to play it cool. Tried so hard but you turned too fast and bumped into him.

And he didn't move back. He just stood there. Close enough that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne, something fresh and warm and way too unfair.

"You down?" Chunkz asked again, voice low.

"Depends" You said, pretending to think. 

"You still gonna flirt with me the whole time?" You asked with a genuine smile.

"Babe, if you think this was flirting.." Chunkz said, stepping closer, voice dropping

"Wait until there's no cameras" Chunkz said as his grin returned, wider this time.

You swallowed hard. 

 He pulled out his phone, tapping it against your arm. 

"Put your number in, I'll send you a proper invite. Dress code.. cute aprons only" Chunkz said.

 You laughed, taking the phone. Chunkz grinned, slow and real.

"You bringing the same game you brought today?" You asked teasingly.

"Better" Chunkz said. 

"Tonight, I'm bringing dessert too" Chunkz added pointing to himself with a smirk.

You were seconds away from saying something stupid like "YES I WILL BEAR YOUR CHILDREN" instead you blacked out. Emotionally. Spiritually. Thermally.

You nodded, weakly. Because speech has abandoned you.

You knew exactly what he meant and when he brushed his fingers lightly against yours like casual and like it didn't mean anything, you knew you were completely finished.

- end -

Hello lovelies!!! Actually? No notes today, just the same reminder.

I hope y'all have an amazing day, absolute love and guidance.

As I said everytime, send in some request and ideas!!

[4m0r1m]

Guess The Singer

SUMMARY: In a classic Beta Squad: Guess the Singer video, Chunkz, Kenny, AJ, Sharky, Niko, and special guest Stormzy try to identify the real singer from a line-up of six contestants. Among them is a stunning, calm woman who captures everyone's attention....especially Chunkz’s. (fluff)

WORD COUNT: 3,576 words

PAIRING: chunkz x reader

The lights were bright. The set was familiar. The vibe was already chaotic — which meant it was a perfect day for another Beta Squad: Guess the Singer video.

Chunkz, AJ, Kenny, Sharky and Niko stood in a line, grinning at the camera. Next to them, the towering figure of Stormzy folded his arms, already looking like he regretted saying yes to this.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Niko announced, “Welcome back to GUESS THE SINGER!”

Cue theme music, exaggerated camera zooms, and Stormzy’s deadpan expression as the rest of the squad did dramatic poses.

Chunkz stepped forward. “Today, we’re trying to find out who the REAL singer is… out of six people.”

“And to help us,” Kenny added, “we’ve got a very special guest. MOBO-winning, Glastonbury headlining—”

“Stormzy,” the man himself interrupted, dry. “Yeah. It’s me.”

The lads burst into laughter.

“Let’s meet the contestants!” AJ called out, gesturing toward the curtain.

The six participants walked out, lining up in front of the squad. There were a mix of looks and vibes — one bloke looked like he just finished a shift at Greggs, another was built like a rugby player. And then… her.

Fourth in line.

She had this quiet poise about her. A soft smile, calm energy. Braids brushed her shoulders, and she wore a neutral-toned jumper with a gold chain glinting just under her collar. Not flashy. But unforgettable.

Chunkz did a double-take.

Just a little one.

He tried to play it cool, but Sharky clocked it immediately and gave him a cheeky nudge. “Behave yourself, bro.”

“I’m behaving!” Chunkz whispered back, eyes still on her. “Man can’t appreciate R&B excellence now?”

“She hasn’t even sung yet.”

“She doesn’t need to.”

The intro round began. Contestants gave names — some fake, some clearly real — and claimed to sing genres from opera to country to grime. When it got to her, she gave a soft nod and said, “R&B,” voice low and honey-smooth.

“Of course she does,” Chunkz murmured, mostly to himself.

Stormzy raised an eyebrow.

Round 1: Lip Sync.

Each contestant took turns pretending to sing along to the same R&B track — a smooth classic that had the lads swaying their shoulders like fools. The goal: figure out who looked the most convincing.

The first few were awful. Out of time, off-beat, overacting.

Then it was her turn.

The music played, and she didn’t do much — didn’t over-lip it, didn’t dance too much. She just let the rhythm carry her, miming the lyrics with a natural grace that made Stormzy mutter, “Okayyy…”

When the round ended, AJ rubbed his chin. “I’m saying Number Four. She’s too clean.”

“Too clean as in she is the singer?” asked Sharky.

“Yeah!”

Niko disagreed. “Nah man, it’s too obvious. It’s always the one who makes it look real.”

“She looked real,” Kenny said. “I don’t trust that.”

Stormzy chimed in. “She’s either a brilliant singer or a brilliant liar.”

Chunkz hadn’t said anything. Just nodded slowly, pretending to analyse. But inside, he already knew who he’d be rooting for. “I’m not sure yet,” he said, lying straight through his teeth.

They voted to eliminate Number Three — a woman who’d tried to sing with one hand in the air like she was on The X Factor. She laughed on her way out. “I’m tone deaf, innit.”

Round 2: Group Performance.

Each contestant had to sing one line of the same song, in a random order. No one knew who was real, who was faking — or just nervous.

One bloke completely butchered his line.

Then came her turn.

She didn’t belt it. Didn’t show off. Just sang one clean, soulful line — like she’d done it a thousand times before. It was enough to make the studio go quiet for a second longer than usual.

Chunkz blinked. “Yeah. Yeah okay.”

Stormzy side-eyed him. “You’re not slick, bruv.”

“She’s cold!” Chunkz defended. “What do you want me to say?!”

“She’s good,” Sharky admitted. “Too good. Maybe she’s the plant.”

AJ nodded. “Yeah, Beta Squad tryna trick us. Put the obviously talented one in there to throw us off.”

Kenny laughed. “So she’s too talented to be real?”

“Exactly.”

Chunkz was getting annoyed. “Nah, y’all just hatin’ on excellence.”

They ended up voting out Number Six — a lad who could barely hold a note but did it with vibes. He wasn’t sad to go.

Round 3: Quickfire Q&A.

They asked ridiculous questions. What’s your vocal range? Favourite chord? Can you beatbox?

She answered every one calmly, with no panic.

“I’d say I’m a mezzo,” she said, “but I was trained to stretch higher.”

“What’s your dream collab?” Stormzy asked.

She smirked slightly. “Probably Cleo Sol… or, you know… someone huge.” She side-eyed Stormzy.

Stormzy grinned. “Nah, don’t look at me like that.”

Chunkz grinned too. “Someone said confidence!”

“She’s got it,” AJ muttered. “She’s dangerous.”

They eliminated Number Two — a confident guy who looked like he worked in finance. He sighed, “Fair. I was just here for vibes.”

Final Round: Solo Performance.

Three left.

The R&B singer, a nervous girl who mumbled a lot, and a wild-card older guy who’d been giving serious ‘uncle at the BBQ’ energy all day.

First up: Uncle BBQ. Sang a Stevie Wonder song. Not terrible, but flat.

Second: Nervous girl. Whispered her way through a pop tune.

Then it was her turn.

The music began.

And she sang.

Soft, smooth, with subtle runs and depth in her tone. It was the kind of voice that didn’t need to shout to fill the space. Real artistry — calm and intimate.

When she finished, there was a beat of silence.

Then Stormzy said, “She’s the one.”

Chunkz was already clapping. “Nah. Give her a Grammy now.”

“She’s the plant,” Sharky insisted.

“She’s the real deal,” said Kenny, frowning like he was personally offended.

They argued back and forth, but in the end… they voted her as the real singer.

She stepped forward.

“I’m… the real singer.”

The studio erupted.

Stormzy threw his hands in the air.

Chunkz literally jumped and shouted, “I knew it! I KNEW IT!”

“You were simping the whole time!” Niko yelled.

Chunkz shrugged. “And I was right!”

They wrapped the video with laughs and chaos, taking photos and dapping each other up.

When the cameras stopped rolling, most of the contestants were led off for snacks and post-video chats.

Chunkz made his way over to her.

She was sitting on a low couch, sipping water, still a little flushed from the nerves and singing.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound cool and failing completely. “You... you’re cold. Like, actually unreal.”

She looked up and smiled. “Thank you. You guys were hilarious.”

“Appreciate it. I mean... I wasn’t really tryna be funny. I was mostly tryna figure out how to not fall in love on camera.”

She blinked. Then laughed — genuinely.

“That line always work?” she teased.

He shrugged. “First time trying it. Kinda nervous, not gonna lie.”

“Well,” she said, leaning back a little, “you hid it better than some of the others.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “So... you live in London?”

“Nearby.”

“You like Nando’s?”

She snorted. “Are you asking me out with a peri-peri proposition?”

“Absolutely. Full platter. I’ll even share the garlic bread.”

She tilted her head. “That’s serious.”

“I am serious.”

There was a pause. Then she nodded. “Alright. But I’m picking the music.”

“R&B only?”

“Obviously.”

“Say less,” he said, eyes bright. “I’ve already got a playlist called ‘Wife Material’ and track one is you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are so unserious.”

“And yet... you’re still smiling.”

She was.

And as she stood up, brushing invisible lint off her jumper, she added softly, “Alright then, Chunkz. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

He held the door open for her like a gentleman. “Challenge accepted.”

A/N: I'm sorry for not posting as much, school is fucking my head.

This is a little different from the actual normal videos but that's it. Hope you like this!

Also if you want a part2 say it.😁

[4m0r1m]

Quiet Mornings

SUMMARY: In the snowy town of Jackson, Joel Miller quietly harbours a deep crush on his sweet and beloved neighbour, a kind woman known for her warmth and generosity. (fluff)

WORD COUNT: 1,249 words

PAIRING: jackson!joel miller x reader

The snow never really melted in Jackson—not properly. It clung stubbornly to rooftops, blanketed trees in layers of soft white, and dusted the pathways even after hours of shovelling. But she never seemed to mind it. Joel noticed that.

Every morning, without fail, she stepped out of the cabin next to his with a mug in her hands, steam curling into the cold air. She’d wave to passers-by with her gloved fingers, smiling like she hadn’t seen the world fall apart. Like everything could be good again. Her presence had that sort of stubborn hope about it.

Joel, of course, would pretend he wasn’t watching.

Not that he was subtle about it. The man wasn’t exactly known for his finesse. He’d open the curtains in the morning, let his coffee go cold on the windowsill, and find himself just... waiting.

He didn’t know her name. Hadn’t asked. But he knew she worked in the kitchen sometimes, helped old Marcy in the garden in spring, and had somehow charmed Tommy’s grumpy old dog into following her around like a puppy.

Everyone liked her.

He did too.

Too much.

So he kept his distance.

“Why don’t you just say somethin’?” Tommy had asked him once, elbowing him over dinner.

Joel had scoffed and muttered something about having better things to do, which they both knew was a lie. Joel just didn’t know how to talk to someone like her—soft, warm, and kind. The sort of person who lit up a room without meaning to. The sort who’d never looked twice at someone like him before.

Someone with blood on his hands and too much weight behind his eyes.

Until one morning, she did.

She caught him by surprise, if he was being honest.

Joel had just come back from patrol, boots heavy with half-frozen mud, coat crusted with a fine layer of ice. He was trudging up the porch steps, grumbling to himself about the goddamn weather, when he heard her voice.

“Good morning, Joel.”

He stopped.

Turned.

She was standing just at the edge of her porch, bundled in a ridiculous amount of scarves and wool, cheeks pink from the cold. The mug was in her hands, like always, but this time she wasn’t watching the town.

She was watching him.

He blinked. “Uh. Mornin’.”

She smiled. “You’re back early. Wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Got rotated out. New kid needed the hours.” Joel cleared his throat. “Didn’t want to deal with his yappin’, anyway.”

She chuckled, light and honest. “Bet you’re great with new people.”

Joel tried not to flinch at the sarcasm, but there was no venom in it. Just playful teasing. “Not particularly.”

There was a pause. Not awkward, surprisingly. Just quiet.

Then she stepped down from her porch and came towards him.

Joel’s throat went dry.

She wasn’t supposed to cross that invisible line—the one he’d drawn between them with his silence and nods and fleeting glances. But she walked right past it like it didn’t exist.

“You want coffee?” she asked. “Mine’s probably colder than yours, but it’s not bad.”

He stared.

Words failed him.

Her brows rose. “That’s a yes or no question, neighbour.”

Joel swallowed. “Uh... sure. Yeah.”

She smiled again—wider this time—and turned back toward her cabin. “C’mon, then.”

And just like that, he followed her.

Her home smelled like cinnamon and something sweet, something he couldn’t place but immediately liked. It wasn’t big, just cosy—hand-knitted blankets on the sofa, a stack of mismatched books on the coffee table, a faint scent of dried flowers clinging to the air. The kind of place you didn’t just visit. You sank into it.

Joel stood awkwardly near the door, unsure if he should take his boots off or if he was meant to sit. She’d already wandered into the kitchen, humming some tune under her breath, light on her feet.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she called over her shoulder.

He eventually chose a chair by the fire, the warmth seeping into his bones like a balm. His fingers flexed instinctively near the heat, joints aching with the cold.

She came back with two mugs, handed him the warmer one.

“You looked like you needed it,” she said, sitting across from him.

“Thanks.” He took a sip. It was... surprisingly good.

“You’re a hard man to talk to,” she said after a beat.

Joel coughed. “Ain’t exactly a people person.”

“Yeah, I gathered.” Her smile turned into a grin. “But I figured, if I waited for you to make the first move, we’d both be buried under snow before that happened.”

He chuckled before he could stop himself. A low sound, unfamiliar. “Probably.”

They sat in silence after that, but not the kind that begged to be filled. It was peaceful. He watched the way her fingers curled around the mug, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she sipped and looked over at him like she couldn’t quite figure him out.

“You always watch me leave in the mornings,” she said suddenly.

Joel froze.

“I’m not mad about it,” she added quickly. “Just... curious.”

He exhaled slowly. “Didn’t mean to be weird.”

“It’s not weird,” she said, and she meant it. “It’s kind of sweet. Quietly tragic. Like some kind of old romance movie.”

Joel shook his head, but there was a twitch of amusement on his lips. “Ain’t nothin’ romantic about me.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

She said it so simply, like it wasn’t meant to knock the air out of his lungs.

Joel cleared his throat. “I just... you seem nice. Real nice. And I’m not... good at nice.”

“I don’t need you to be good at it,” she said, her voice soft. “Just honest.”

He looked at her then—really looked. There was no pity in her gaze, no judgement. Just warmth, and something that could’ve been hope if he let it.

“Why’d you talk to me today?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

She tilted her head. “Because I wanted to. And I was tired of waiting.”

Joel let out a breath. “You always this stubborn?”

She grinned. “Absolutely.”

For the first time in a long time, Joel felt the ice inside him begin to melt.

They didn’t call it anything. Didn’t label it.

But over the next few weeks, Joel found himself watching her less from the window and more from across her kitchen table. He brought over firewood. She made apple bread. He fixed her squeaky cabinet. She mended a tear in his flannel. It was simple. Unspoken.

But it was something.

The town noticed, of course. Jackson was small, and people had eyes. Ellie teased him mercilessly, but he took it, mostly in stride. Even Tommy shut up after a while, choosing instead to just smile knowingly when Joel came in with flour on his sleeve.

One evening, after patrol, Joel found her on her porch with two mugs already waiting.

“You were out late,” she said.

“Snow was worse than expected.”

“I saved you coffee.”

He sat beside her without hesitation, the wood creaking under their weight. Their shoulders brushed, and he didn’t pull away.

“Y’know,” she said, “if this keeps up, people are gonna think we’re courting.”

Joel snorted. “Let ‘em.”

She turned her face toward him, startled.

He met her gaze. Steady. “I like sittin’ with you. Talkin’. Hell, even not talkin’. I ain’t good at sayin’ how I feel, but... I think you get it.”

She smiled, slow and sure. “I do.”

A/N: I'M BACK BITCHES!!! I'm fucking tired and I just want school to end😭😭

But apart from that I hope you like this.😁