#she just. forgot that she had the christmas lights in her mouth. anyway.

[transxfiles]

forgot to tell y’all. i went to a halloween party last night!!

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Naughty or nice? | Ethan Landry x Reader

Advent calendar day five: Friendsmas + gift giving

Summary: The whole group gathers at Sam and Tara's for Friendsmas. Left to yourself in the living room, you and Ethan

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The night before everyone went home for the holidays, you all gathered at Sam and Tara’s apartment for a Friendsmas dinner. The place was lightly decorated in the spirits with only a small Christmas tree and twinkling lights you and Tara hung up a few weeks ago. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. 

‘’These gingerbread cookies are hilarious,’’ Sam complimented when she saw everyone’s caricature portraits in the box. 

Some had been more of a challenge to make than others, but you managed to make them all somewhat ressemblant to each of your friends. You even made Tara’s a tiny bit smaller than the others. 

‘’You even made Chad’s big head accurate,’’ Mindy pointed out, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she bit the arm of her cookie. 

Chad scowled at her as he attempted to take a bite, only to have the head break off and tumble to the floor, making Mindy burst into laughter.

‘’Even the cookie-you can’t keep it on its shoulder!’’ 

In true sibling behavior, Chad flipped his sister off. 

Having dealt with them since they were kids, Sam chose to leave them to their bickering and returned to her cooking. The water was boiling anyway. 

She searched the counter for the box of pastas, only to realize that she forgot to stop at the store after her appointment with her therapist this morning. ‘’Ugh, I forgot to get macaroni for the mac’n’cheese… Can someone go to the bodega down the street, they should have some pastas? Any will do.’’ 

Tara, eager to escape vegetable-cutting duty, volunteered. ‘’I can go!’’  

‘’I’ll go with you!’’ Chad said, going after her. ‘’The streets are icy, I wouldn’t want you to fall and get hurt or something.’’

You and Mindy shared a look once he was out of sight, knowing that it was cheap just an excuse to be alone with Tara. Hopefully he’ll stop chickening and finally make a move on her. 

Leaving Sam with Mindy to finish dinner, you joined Ethan who was sitting alone in the living room. He was watching something on his phone, his attention absorbed by the tiny screen, and didn’t hear you coming. 

‘’What are you watching?’’ you asked over his shoulder, a playful smile on your face.

He jumped, his heart hammering in his chest. ‘’Shit, you scared me.’’ 

You giggled as you walked around the couch and sat beside him. ‘’What are you watching,’’ you repeated.

Ethan shrugged, turning off his phone. ‘’Nothing. Just dumb things on youtube.’’

You hummed, taking a candy cane from the bowl on the table and trapped it between your red-coated lips. The sweet peppermint aroma filled the air as you leaned slightly closer to Ethan. ‘’So…have you been naughty or nice this year?’’  

Ethan choked on air. His eyes flicked away from your mouth, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. ‘’W-what?’’ he stammered, the unexpected question taking him by surprise.

You chuckled, removing the candy cane from your lips. ‘’Just curious, you know? Santa's making his list and checking it twice.’’ 

Still flustered, the boy managed a nervous laugh. ‘’I guess I’ve been mostly nice? We volunteered together at the cat shelter last month and I helped you for your art project, does that gives me brownie points?’’ 

‘’You’re cute.’’ You leaned in and ghosted your hand up Ethan’s arm, wishing there wasn’t a sweater covering his bicep. ‘’Since you’ve been so nice, should I give you your Christmas present now?’’ 

An immediate panic struck his face. ‘’Christmas present?! I didn’t know— I’ve got nothing to give you…’’ 

You shushed him with a finger over his lips and, with your other hand, you pulled aside the left side of your wrapped sweater, flashing him your matching red lace bra. The article was very sheer and left nothing to the imagination, which made Ethan’s eyes go wide.

‘’Holy shit.’’

Just then, the door creaked open as Tara and Chad returned, snow covering their shoulders and heads. Snapping out of your bubble, you quickly covered up and loudly greeted the two. Tara gave you a strange look, her cheeks red from the cold, then hopped over to the couch to tackle you with her cold self.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess

[baejax-the-great]

On the day your grandmother dies, you will still have to walk your dogs.

It doesn’t matter if it’s snowing or sleeting or seven below, you will still have to put on your boots and your winter coat and leash up the dogs and leave this warm home for the last time in your life, because home was not a city or a lake or a condo filled with art and photographs and plants, but a person, the only person in the world who truly meant it when she said that you could stay as long as you like, and who liked to make your dogs eggs over buttered toast with salt and pepper, despite the fact that the dogs don’t need the salt and they really didn’t want the pepper, because love dictates that you properly spice your food when you serve it, and when she couldn’t make it herself anymore, she asked you to do it as she watched from the kitchen counter and scolded you when you forgot the salt.

You will put on your boots, which she gave you because she also, unfortunately, gave you her big feet, and she’s the only person in the world you can share shoes with, and she always loved to share so that every time you left her house your suitcase had one more pair of shoes than you came with. And you will put on your gloves, which she also gave you at Christmas maybe five or six years ago, just a five dollar pair of gloves she got at the checkout line at Kohl’s and that have somehow lasted far longer than they deserved and kept you warm when the temperature dropped to twenty below just a week after you moved to Chicago from Atlanta, and you will take your dogs outside and take care of their needs because they are small creatures who rely on you, and when you were a small creature, she took care of you with a smile and a soft voice. And even when you were no longer small, even when you should have been able to make it on your own two feet, even when you were having the worst year of your life, single and unemployed and with a fucking headache that just wouldn’t go away, she would make you dinner and turn the lights low and tell you that she believed in you anyway, and just to prove it, she would read the novel you wrote that nobody else wanted to, and she would never admit she didn’t like it even when you knew she didn’t.

So you will walk your dogs with tears stinging your eyes and cheeks in the winter cold, knowing that no one will ever love you like she did, and you will swear using the words she taught you because despite her soft voice and mild manner she had a foul mouth that she never turned off, and you will wipe the snow off the dogs' paws when you are done, and you will feed them, maybe even eggs over buttered toast with salt and pepper, and you will pour your nephew juice when he’s big enough to pour his own, and you will hug your cousin when you see her red eyes, and you will tell your aunt that her sweater looks good on her because it does, and you will hold the baby until she stops crying and laughs again, because your grandmother did all these things for you and more, so much more than she needed to, even when you were grown, even when you told her it was your turn to take care of her, sitting in the hospital at her side.

And you will sit with the fact that you will never be able to go home again because it left when she did, quietly in the night so as not to make a fuss, her bedroom door open because even at the end she wanted to hear the sounds of her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren chatting and laughing in the hall, and all there is to do now, the only thing you really can do, is follow her example and try to make someone else feel loved and warm and welcome, and maybe if you're lucky you'll do it a tenth as well as she did, but it's a pretty high bar, and you might spend the rest of your life trying to reach it.

[distinguishedkryptonitecreator]

𝕸𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖞'𝖘 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖒

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Series: Sherlock BBC

MASTERLIST

I II

Synopsis: You discover that you are in love, unfortunately with the same man your friend loves. How will you survive that?

Note: English is not my native language, so some words may not make sense, apologies in advance.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈

━━━━♡

Shopping centers began to clog due to the large number of people who preferred to buy gifts at special discounts in stores and toy stores. Something you never understood, since the prices went up since the middle of the year and when the expected day arrived, they only discounted a couple of tickets, nothing fancy, however you never complained when Molly dragged you through the aisles of the shops with lights excessively bright colors.

The Christmas season had arrived ahead of schedule.

But this time, you couldn't tune in to her holiday cheer because of all the onslaught of situations you hadn't sought and now had to endure. After all, guilt doesn't dissolve so easily.

Earlier, she had called you in the hope that you would join her in choosing a dress for the little gathering that Mrs. Hudson and John were organizing in Baker Street. And you probably would have said no, except for the bouncy voice in which she prattled on about the fruit punch the kind landlady would make and the color of wrapping paper she planned to buy. It was a breath of fresh air to feel her so vibrant and excited, after all, every day of the year she locked herself in a morgue with depressing white walls, with a large number of scalpels and open corpses on the plate, making reports, enduring the Pine smell from products the place was cleaned with. It was definitely not something she would put up with, at least not willingly. Or sober.

Simple reasons that made him consider the little coroner one of the most interesting people he would have hoped to meet. Her character, the kindness that appeared in his eyes every time he tried to explain something, kindness and shyness, characteristics so predictable but at the same time so contrary that no one would think of finding in a person who lives daily with the remains of death. . Molly was special, you knew that. She had shown you that there was much more goodness and value than you expected to find in your soul. That's why she decided to bite her tongue and refrain from any stupidity that might come out of her mouth on occasions like this, when she could brighten her life a little.

But again you couldn't help feeling hypocritical to see her walk between shelves and sideboards, browsing silky and satin fabrics, waiting for Molly to decide for the fifth time between the dress on the sideboard or the black one that she was hers. She was supposed to shop, though you really stopped caring about the extra time she was taking when you walked out of the store together with a few bags and a smile on her face.

"So?" she asked as they walked through the door of a coffee shop and lined up to place her orders. "Do you already know what to wear?"

"What are you talking about?"

An almost obvious look crossed her features before he punctuated her question.

"The Christmas party, it's in a couple of weeks, in case you forgot that John invited you too"

The line was not advancing and you felt the gears in your head grow stronger as the answer slipped from your tongue.

"I don't know, actually, I'm not sure if I can go, I have a lot of work, the website that I'm redesigning is taking longer than I thought"

Liar.

"Indeed? I thought the customer you were supporting was okay with the changes you made.

"Yes, me too, but then again, he is one of the most important and influential clients the company has," you shrugged at Molly's suspicious look, "it's just a meeting anyway."

Sure, and that's why you're avoiding her.

Molly looked at you for a few more seconds before she was called from the counter and ordered again, a sigh of relief flowing from your lips at the tension that formed in your shoulders, you had so many things to say and at the same time you felt Prey to them, guilt swirled like autumn leaves in your conscience and you didn't know how to escape it.

If only she knew that the only reason you didn't want to come back to Baker Street is the same reason she went to all the trouble to show up and look stunning.

Sherlock Holmes had definitely started to be not only a sleeping problem for Molly, but also a psychosis that followed you every step you took, although you know that it wasn't all his fault and you frankly didn't have time to think about it when in one of their cases Sherlock and you kissed.

If only you had thought through the consequences before allowing the act, maybe you wouldn't be sitting across from your best friend with a broken heart, hoping none of your expressions would give you away. Because yes, the only truth why you hadn't returned to Baker Street since that rainy afternoon is that you didn't even know what had happened, or maybe you did, just that you had gotten into other things that you hadn't realized until you were already stuck in the mud.

You had fallen in love with the man behind the trench coat and blue scarf, the same man who could look at you and tell you that you had an Americano with the queen or held up a real estate agency after eating a sandwich, the man with whom you had formed a strange relationship . connection, one that had become quite clear in the eyes of the little army medic who lived with the consulting detective.

You had fallen in love with the man your friend loved.

And fuck, you felt bad.

"I know it's probably none of my business, but are you okay? I mean, you've been acting a little weird the last few weeks, I'm a little worried." You didn't say anything until they sat down, Molly's words beginning to sour each sip. of coffee, if she only knew.

"Honestly, there's nothing wrong with me, I'm completely fine," you assured her, hoping that somehow everything you said was convincing enough for Molly to put aside that catty curiosity that characterized her so much. You didn't want to think that for now.

  To your dismay, Molly was overly observant and intelligent and you had no doubt that she would not have believed one iota of those words that came out of your mouth, yet she was always a good person and friend, you knew she would never do anything to pressure you or push you, because that was Molly, and you were so ashamed of the fact, because after all she was the only true friend you had in so long, as well as being loyal and supportive and even if she didn't owe you anything.

You try to stay positive and not ruin Molly's evening, after all, she took the time to ask you out and she actually looked really excited. Guilty or not, who were you to take that away from him?

So they put the matter aside, spent the entire afternoon talking and shopping for the latest products on the list.

However, when you got to your apartment, the memories flooded you again, you started to miss the afternoons in Baker Street, with John, Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock...

You had gotten so used to being there that you even spent more time in that place and on the streets running with the dynamic duo than in your apartment. No doubt the change affected you. But you were sure that you were rational, proud and strong enough not to lose your mind, or so you thought.

Three weeks had already passed since that event, John had sent you several text messages trying to find out your whereabouts, so you decided to reassure him with the same excuse that you had given to Molly, assuring him that once you were free you would take a walk. Lucky for you, he didn't ask any more and you were more than grateful.

For now you want to clear your head, because that fact had completely scrambled your ideas, maybe the situation wouldn't have affected you so much if you weren't in love with him, but there was still the fact that you weren't sure what you felt, not even you understood what had happened and the random text messages he received from Sherlock didn't help much. He wasn't affected at all?

You refused to believe that he wasn't, but a part of you knew that maybe you had thought things too much, maybe you just exaggerated the situation a little.

What's more, it probably wasn't that important to Sherlock, after all you already knew him and you knew perfectly well that the only thing that had happened that day was something they had to do to prevent his alibi from being discovered, but that didn't alleviate or silence the voices. in your head.

And as much as you tried to appear independent and strong, you could still feel that nervous feeling that always stings you. Your history of past intrapersonal relationships has given you an extremely accurate prediction and you will most likely end up giving yourself away or stuttering like a high school girl or doing anything that causes you utter humiliation and embarrassment, in short, something you would not want to happen. at least not again.

You needed to coolly calculate the situation and not lose your head trying.

And for now, as childish as it sounds, avoiding was your best option, you need to gather your courage because you were sure that sooner or later you will have to face the coming storm.

You just hoped you had enough time.

Although probably the prayers you prayed to heaven were not heard or so you thought when one afternoon when it was extremely difficult for you to return to your apartment due to the amount of snow that covered the streets, you felt a familiar aura wrap around the gloomy walls of your apartment. Any hint of concern or doubt began to grow as soon as you heard seemingly familiar voices coming from your living room, and as soon as you crossed the threshold of your apartment you saw it clearly, the shadows had turned into perfectly structured figures. John and surprisingly Mycroft were sitting in your living room apparently discussing something important, however their conversation ended as soon as they noticed your presence. They turned to you.

Your look of confusion did not wait.

What the hell are they doing here?

You didn't even have a moment to think about the situation because a British voice interrupted you.

"Miss, it is a great pleasure to have your company, we were wondering about you."

You raised an eyebrow at the sharp-tongued comment from the man wearing the suit, you weren't in the mood to play at the moment and as much as you needed a distraction, you wanted to rest, you had spent the whole day walking and solving things that when you found yourself stuck in traffic you couldn't help but feel irritated.

John greeted you kindly from his seat..

"As much as I appreciate meetings, surprises overwhelm me." You earned a quizzical look from the perfectly seated government man as if he was about to have a chat with the queen.

"I thought my presence was pleasing to you, miss."

A small giggle escaped your lips, but you silenced it before resuming a neutral expression.

  "How did they get in?" you corrected "forget it, that doesn't matter, the real question is why?"

The two looked debutatively at each other for a couple of seconds before John spoke.

"We're sorry to show up at your apartment like this, actually, we didn't mean to intrude like this, but we needed your help."

My help? How the hell am I going to help the queen's secret service?

John seemed to see the doubt on your face. "Yes, I know these are not the right conditions, but we need information."

"And you seem best suited for the task," Mycroft interjected.

The gears of his brain began to rattle before a possible answer slipped across his tongue: "And what kind of information could I have?"

"Well, let's start with...

"How much do you know about Thomas Beckett?" This voice. You'd know that voice anywhere and you wouldn't have to turn around to see Sherlock coming out of your kitchen with a cup of tea in hand. He sat down in one of your lonely chairs and looked at you expectantly.

You did everything you could not to lose your composure. It was obvious, Mycroft and John wouldn't be here without him, you were so foolish not to assume. However, your only concern vanished as soon as your gaze collided with his electric blue eyes.

━━━━♡

[wthtorke]

Xmas spirit

Billy x Stu x Male!Reader commission for @pointed-beetle ! hope ya like it bud

Warnings for violence, blood, cursing, etc

Stu organizes some kick-ass parties, it was no surprise. His parents often left the house for him, money for food along with a lot of unsupervised time. He used it to his advantage whenever he could. This time, Stu decided he was going to get people wasted on Christmas. 

Billy laid on Stu’s bed, throwing one of his signed baseball balls up and down in his hand. The party would start in about an hour, but Billy rarely left his house anyway. Stu put on his stupid robe and checked himself out on his mirror. “So, a lotta people are coming tonight, the boys, the girls-, and-," 

"And him. I know," Billy says, throwing the ball again and catching it. "Remember the rules this time," he points at him. Stu pretends to be hurt, his hand going up to his chest, "damn man, you think that low of me? Ouch," his face scrunching up as he laughs, sticking his tongue out as he looks back at the mirror, "it's gonna be fun!" 

Billy leans against the kitchen wall as Sidney leans back into him as well, a drink in her hand as Stu comes back with even more bottles from the garage, Tatum taking some of the bottles from him so he wouldn't drop them, teasing him about being careless. 

As much as Billy is right there, he still looks at the door every now and again, you still hadn't arrived. Stu had insisted you came, that you'd have fun, drink a little. All of you knew you wouldn't be doing shit for Christmas, it was better than to just sit at home and sulk.

Billy feels the weight of the small box in his pocket, a little, tiny Christmas gift. Stu also had one, they'd talked and agreed on picking something small, like a necklace or a bracelet, something that you could have gotten on your own, but that all three of you would know.

He couldn't give it to you now, of course. Hell, he hadn't gotten -Sidney- anything. Not because he couldn't, but because he…forgot. Plain and simple. And he knew Stu hadn't gotten shit for Tatum either. They were just…beards. Their disguise, faking it until they made it until Billy's revenge was complete and Stu's fun happened along with it. 

They didn't plan on liking you either, it just…happened. The hanging out, the talks, getting to know you better-, revenge aside, it was very…sweet. Billy licks his lips after another sip of the bottle. He remembers kissing you for the first time, and then Stu, and then kissing you again while Stu held your shaking hand.

Stu hits Billy's shoulder and mocks his blank stare at the counter, "You really shut off there, man," he laughs and winks at him. He knows exactly why. Billy is about to retort when the door opens and Stu all but flings himself from Tatum's arms, Billy sighs and closes his eyes before looking back at the door again, just in time to see Stu all but collide into you screaming about you finally making it. "I thought I was gonna have to drag your ass in here!" He says, dipping for another hug as you pat his back, muttering something about your family being a pain in the ass before walking over to the kitchen, Stu with his arm slung over your shoulder. 

"Hi Sid, hi Tatum," you say, then looking at Billy, "Hey Billy," your smile is a little tight, not that anyone but Billy notices it, Stu would too, if he wasn't already trying to shove a bottle up your mouth, telling you to drink.

Tatum laughs and lights up when another girl crosses the door, dragging Sidney along, raising her eyebrows at Billy as she smiles and lets herself be dragged off. Billy gets closer to you and Stu, giving you a pat on the shoulder when he drinks again. You give him a side smile, the three of you laughing when Stu mocked the girls laughing in the back. 

Stu laughs and drags both you and Billy further into the kitchen, Billy saw him reaching into his pocket, “Stu-,” Billy sighs, Stu shushes him. Stu wasn’t drunk yet, but he did drink enough to make the little self-preservation he had go out the window. “Listen-, He totally deserves it-,” he says, looking at you, “look at the way he’s looking at me man, how can I say no?” Stu reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little black box, “This is like-, this made me think of you, okay?” Stu says, handing you the box, “Merry Jesus day or something,” he laughs, Billy tries to keep an eye out for people coming while you open it. 

You undo the little bow on top and lift the lid, blinking as a light streak catches your eye for a second, turning the box so it went away from you. You frown a little bit as you look at it, it’s a ring, silver plated. You know it’s your size.

“I thought it’d be nice to have something to like, wear and think of us,” he says, pulling another box out of his other pocket and hitting Billy lightly on the shoulder, handing the box to him. Billy takes a look at it and then at Stu, “The hell? You didn’t-,” Stu scoffs, “Yeah I didn’t tell you but the fuck is a guy supposed to do? Gift one boyfriend and not the other?” Billy clamps his hand over Stu’s mouth as he looks back at the door, “Shut the fuck up Stu, goddamn it.” he frowns as Stu laughs under his hand, letting go of him as you laugh as well.

Billy bites his lip when he sees the ring on your finger, putting the box Stu gave him into his pocket. Stu puts his hands on his hips, making a stern mom voice, “Well?!” he mocks, Billy pushes his chest, “What the fuck do you want?” Stu scoffs, comically aggravated. “Give him the thing man, what the fuck!” he angry whispers. Billy shoves him again, “This was supposed to be later, you damn idiot,” he looks at you, he falters “Ah-, screw it,” he pulls out his own little box, “Don’t get too excited,” he says. 

Billy’s box is similar to Stu’s, but it has no bow and looks a little creased like he held it a lot. You look up at him briefly and open it. You see the pendant first, a polished metal lock with a simple chain attached to it. Stu lets out an "OoOoh~" as he leans over your shoulder to look at it, you look back up at Billy, "Do you-," he smiles, "I got the key, yeah," he laughs when you look away, bashful. 

"Now, what the fuck is going on here? A little gift-giving??" The three of you turn to the kitchen entrance to find one of the school's jocks, Ted, leaning against the wall, beer in hand. Ted's face scrunches up when he sees the boxes and the contents in them, "This don't look like no buddy gifts man, the fuck is this? Rings and necklaces? Are yall like dating or something? Ha-," he laughs, taking a swig of the beer as you scoff and put your gifts away in your pocket. 

Ted lingers as Stu closes in on him, "Party's over there Teddy," Stu says, "You already got a beer, get outta the kitchen with your dirty ass shoes," he laughs. Ted doesn't. "I kinda wanna know what yall got your girls now if you got your "homie" all the dating shit people do,"

"That's none of your fucking business, Twit," Billy scoffs. "None of my business or non-existent? Yall didn't get them anything, right? Listen, it's almost like yall are fucking gay, yall should-"

"You know what you should fucking do? You should fucking-," Billy walks forward, stopped by Stu before he gets into Ted's face. "-You should get another fucking beer pack in the garage before ya get kicked the fuck out the party that's what, dimwit." Stu shoves him, "Or you want me to tell Stacy of your little adventures with Becky? Huh?" Stu laughs, his tongue lolling out when Ted shakes his head, "Yeah that's what I thought ya dog, get outta here," he pushes Ted out in the direction of the garage door, "Prick." He shakes his head, looking back at you and Billy, "Alright, let's have some fucking fun on Jesus' day, yeah? Come on little lock boy," he laughs and hooks his arm over your neck, pulling you back to the party with him. 

Billy, however, doesn't follow, eyes narrowing at the garage door.

You're playing truth or dare with Sidney, Tatum, Stacy, and Randy when you realize Stu also went missing. You look around, confused. You knew who they were, of course. You knew what they did, but did they do it now? Was there a body somewhere in the house?

"Did anyone see Ted? He said he wanted to pee and hasn't come back," you hear from your right, eyes focusing again when you see a waving hand in the corner of your vision. Stu.

And Billy. 

They look normal, Billy has his drink in hand and so does Stu, they come over and sit down with the rest of you, Stu leans against Tatum while Billy kisses Sidney's cheek, his knee brushing against yours as he spreads his legs on the couch.

You don't ask where they were, or try to give them any hints with your eyes. Whatever they did is done. "So, yall gonna play this time or can I start calling you chickens?" You say, Stu making loud chicken noises that get you laughing and Randy commenting on its inaccuracy. 

Randy is telling about how he has kissed his palm for practice when someone screams outside. The scream is blood-curdling, your eyes widen as everyone rushes to the windows and door of the house, you included, gluing yourself to the cold glass as you peek outside at the back of the house. 

You see a faint trail of blood in the snow and gasp, running to the door, pushing through the now screaming and crying crowd as you spot the reason. Ted's body lays close to the trashcans outside the house, bloodied and stabbed all over. You choke in surprise when you hear Stacy pushing through behind you, covering your ears when she screams.

After spending the night being interviewed, Stu's house was cleared of the investigation in the early morning. The three of you sit on his bed, you're wearing the ring and the necklace, laying on top of Billy while Stu checks the window to make sure the cops went away after clearing the bloodied snow patch.

"Aight, they're gone," Stu says, "so much for getting drunk and-, maybe banging, I don't know," he scoffs and joins you in bed, you're all tired, not drunk and happy as it should have been. "Which one did it?" You ask, Stu's face neutral as he lays close to you. "I did it," Billy says, his hand doesn't stop stroking your back. You both look up at him, "that's what he gets for ruining Jesus' day." Billy says, Stu laughs, pushing on both of you as he does so. Billy chuckles at Stu for being too dramatic and looks down at you, smiling wider when he sees your own smile, "yeah…that's what he gets." You say, Billy snorts and kisses your nose, “good boy.”

[selarina]

He's giving me the Maybes

→ Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: set in christmas, friends to ???, smoking weed, suna is not a drug dealer, dancing, a dead pigeon rip, smut but not quite, unedited, dubious consent (they're both high)

Words: 2.5k words

Author's Note: kinda hate this, kinda love this

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

You sit on the sofa, eyes downcast on the gift perched on your lap. The wrapping paper has a light red tint to it, with little Christmas trees scattered all over as added embellishment.

Looking up, you feel it's strange to be sitting alone in the living room, especially with the decorations spilling out and about, Christmas trees were strewn around, including some edible ones, and random specks of glitter that most likely fell off a handmade greeting card. All of it serves to bring life to the room, but when you're alone, there is an eerie undertone you cannot seem to ignore.

You don't have sufficient time to dwell on it because you hear some commotion, you trace the noise back to the corridor, and you can only assume your relatives are flocking in to join you.

You decide to remain seated and let other people approach you to extend their greetings. Most of them leave soon after they’re through with their version of small talk. Although you weren't expecting anything less, you feel drained. 

The gift in your hand is now seated on your cousin's lap as she babbles on about her new girlfriend. You sigh and tilt your head to the ceiling after she leaves to answer a call. Contrary to today's events, you quite enjoy learning these tidbits of information. It's amusing to talk to your cousins a year later and find out that the information you learned no longer means a thing. However, it has been a long day.

The atmosphere of the room shifts, as your cousin and your brother, arrive. They’re late, as per usual.  A loudspeaker in your cousin’s hands spews out hip-hop baselines and you feel a throbbing sensation in your head that you could assume would only build as the night progresses.

You notice a beer already sitting in your brother’s grip, as he sits down next to you placing a brown package on the table in front of you, you can only assume it is more alcohol. "So... What did you get for your boyfriend?"

"Huh?" you question as your eyebrows furrow in confusion, a budding fear in your chest.

"For his birthday?" he clarifies.

"What..." the panic in your voice is immediate. "You better not be fucking with me."

"Err... I just said hello to him on my way here. It's okay, he seemed fine. A little sad, but I would be too if my girlfriend forgot my birthday," he snickers, which soon fades into awkward silence when he notices your glum expression because he was expecting a quip-back instead. "But uh, hey! It could be the birthday blues? What do I know," he adds in a hasty attempt to undo what he’s caused. 

Your cousin snickers, ”What kind of person doesn't know their boyfriend's birthday?" A couple of other relatives joined in with the laughter, as though they were part of a paid audience at a talk show.

A terrible one, you think. Your brother opens his mouth, most likely to reprimand them before you say, "Ex-boyfriend," a remorseful edge to your words. "Ex-boyfriend because I just broke up with him like an hour ago."

A groan leaves you as you face palms yourself, your forehead stinging as aftermath. It seemed well-deserved anyhow.

The room falls silent for a brief moment before they resume their conversations with one another. Your brother joins your side, "You barely knew the guy anyway," he says as he offers an awkward pat on your shoulder, a gesture that does very little to ease you.

You're not sure if you should apologise. You have no idea what you would even say and you’re fairly certain you would make things worse.

You had scarcely been dating for two months. The relationship strung a lot more on the physical aspect, which you didn't mind at all. At first, neither did he, but as time passed, you realised you formed a full-fledged relationship with a person who had expectations that your relationship barely met. You weren't sure if you wanted to do anything about to change that, as harsh as that may sound. So, you figured it was only fair to end things now.

"Thank you for that. Now if you'll excuse me — I'm going to get very drunk or very high. Good night, and a Merry Christmas!" You give your brother an exaggerated fake smile before leaving the gathering with your belongings in your hands. 

Taking your phone from your jacket, you text Rintaro telling him you'll be home in 20 minutes.

You arrive in front of your house after a half-hour drive to find Suna already waiting for you on the steps to your door. He wears a headphone around his neck and appears to be meticulously playing something on his phone. His hair is longer than you remember, and it's neatly combed and styled.

He quirks up almost immediately after sensing your presence, which surprises you. He stands up, pocketing his phone. As you get closer to him, you notice a soft pink tint on his nose, it makes him look softer in appearance.

Eyeing your outfit for a brief minute before he smirks, knowingly. You roll your eyes, accentuating your movement to express your annoyance. Your cousin's knitting is undeniably adorable as a gesture but not so much as a fashion statement.

Sitting next to Suna on your toasty couch, you reflect on the events that took place today, contemplating whether you should tell him. Suna, you see, is more of a friend than a drug dealer. 

In fact, he's not a drug dealer at all, he just happens to know people who are. He doesn’t smoke as often either but he’s on his off-season so he doesn’t mind indulging sometimes.

You first crossed paths in college when you stumbled into Rintaro instead of his roommate, who was supposed to be your presentation partner but they did not show up that evening, and the rest, as they say, is history.

"I broke up with my boyfriend today," you break the comfortable silence.

"You did?"

"Yeah," you chortle. "It was his birthday too."

"Oh," a beat of silence. "One second," eyeing his phone before he gets up. "The food's here. I'll be right back." He leaves and you’re left alone fighting the urge to cuss at yourself.

You're on the verge of ripping your hair out when he reappears, clutching a small bag and two plates.

"That sounds awkward, by the way."

"I didn't know it was his birthday," you say in your defense, which comes out a little too quickly for your liking.

"What difference would that have made?" You give him a look of confusion, open your mouth to ask him where he’s going with this, before he clarifies, “Would you have stayed with him because it was his birthday?”

"Maybe," you say after you stop to think for a few seconds.

He says nothing as he rolls up his sleeves and begins to open the package. You take a brief note of the subtle but noticeable veins on his hand when he extends to retrieve the plates.

You keep going, knowing that he is listening. "That's probably worse, right?” You chuckle remorsefully, “I even memorized the breakup speech a couple of times. I think my priority was to be free of any and all guilt, and I already had a lot from overstaying in the relationship, so I guess... maybe, it doesn't matter."

“There you have it,” is all he can offer with his limited knowledge on the matter.

He continues, "But I did warn you about men who can't cook."

“Oh yeah? That leaves me with who?” You rack your brain for at least one name. One name. “Osamu?”

"I can cook as well," he says, a bit offended. You ignore the possible implication; he most likely missed it himself.

“Knowing how to cook only rice is not cooking cooking.”

"Fine, maybe. I can always learn," he sneers in defeat. His tone shifts and he’s gentle when he asks you, "Are you all right though?"

"Of course," you offer him a soft smile.

You spend the rest of the hour mostly in silence, smoking a blunt while satiating your hunger on breadsticks and lasagna. Halfway through, he asks you if he can play music. You agree, wanting to fill the silence but not by a lot.

Song after song, the soft buzz in your head leaves you as the food starts to empty.

After you're fully done, you decide to wash up, Rintaro and the music on his phone trailing behind you, from the hall to your kitchen.

He's wiping the plates that you washed and you question him about Bean. Bean is a pool black cat who showed up at Rintaro's door one night, meowing her heart's content until she was offered something to fill her stomach, and she has since adopted him.

When you were at his house one evening, she appeared with a dead pigeon, flecks of furious gold in her eyes as she offered it to him, leaving it at his doorstep before she licked her paws and strutted away into the mist. You were reasonably scared of her.

These days, she occasionally shows up. Rintaro thinks it's to check on him. You tell him you think she has better things to do.

His hand brushes against yours as he takes the washed plate from you, the pads of his fingers feel rough against your skin, it seems fitting for a volleyball player.

You're back in the hall again, and the two of you decide to share the last blunt. A slew of smoke leaving his lips as the song ends.

A few seconds of silence before the next song begins — it's a soft instrumental song on a steel guitar.

You smile, and Rintaro asks you why with his eyebrows raised, as you take the blunt from his hand. "It's a nice song, didn't expect to find it on your playlist 's all"

"It's an old song. My parents, they used to dance to this sometimes." You smile. 

"Nauseating," he adds. You smile harder.

The two of sit there in silence as take a hit, the song playing as the notes sleepily dance in one after the other. 

"Rintaro," you say softly. He turns your way, prompting you to continue. "Would you, maybe, want to dance?"

You're not sure what prompted you to ask in the first place, but you don't have time to think about it as he's up on his feet, stretching his legs after which he holds his hand out for you to take. "All right, come on," he beckons with a smirk, his hand brushing against yours to pull you up.

His hands find the sides of your hips. Your right hand carefully holds onto the blunt as you place your hands on his shoulders.

For a while, the two of you simply sway to the silken beat. You think he's pretty like this. In an objective sense, he has always been attractive, but with the slight smile on his face, he appears even more so, you believe.

He's gently pushing you out into a clumsy spin. You twirl, unabashed chuckles leaving your lips, and it isn’t graceful in the slightest, but when your hands land back on his shoulders, you find that you're happy.

Wanting to rest your head on his shoulders, you move your hands out to envelope him into a hug. Swaying as you feel him reverberate as he hums.

You move away to face him, only now realising that maybe the two of you crossed boundaries you had quietly agreed to. You realised how intimate you were being.

Holding your hand out to pass the blunt to him, you hope it will ease the air. But instead of taking it from you, he holds onto your wrist as he brings your hand closer to his mouth, as he takes a hit.

The smoke covers your view of his face, but you feel it — his lips on your palm as he gently kisses it.

As the smoke clears out on its own, you meet his eyes and it's tentative — the slow reach of his hands towards the blunt in your hand. He bands to put it off and place it on the table.

You inch closer, knowingly or unknowingly, you can't tell really but you find yourself inches away from his face, inches away from his lips.

You feel the need to turn and check on the put-out blunt on your table. You know it’s not about the blunt though, you feel vulnerable and you’re surprised with yourself for not shying away at the sight of his limpid green eyes peering into your own. His lips brush against yours, "Are you sur—"

He doesn't get to finish because you pull him into a kiss. There's nothing cautious about the kiss. It's nothing short of intense, but to an onlooker, the soft music playing in the background makes the scene appear a lot more softer than it is.

You stay in the kiss before you have to pull away, unable to physically sustain it any longer.

You meet his dazed eyes and they soften for a moment, it is hard to miss because Suna rarely wears an unguarded expression on his face. You don't have to cement it to memory because his hands reach for your face again, luring you into another kiss.

A moment of "What the fuck am I doing?" dawns on you as you find yourself in dizzy anticipation. At the end of the day, he is a friend, and despite the initial turmoil at the beginning of your relationship, he has emerged as one of the few people who will always support you when you need it.

An underlying fear of what comes after is ever-present right now, but it fades into merely an after-thought as you find yourself too enticed by his wandering hands and lips that move almost rhythmically.

Breaking away from the kiss, you push your hands against his chest, gently shoving him backward as a gesture to take a seat on the couch. He smirks, and you take notice of his tastefully ruffled hair as if he just crawled out of underbrush somewhere.

He sits, slightly manspreading while his hands remain tethered to your waist. You smile as you take in the sight of him like this.

Ruffled hair, crumpled clothes, glistening lips — you've never seen him this unraveled, not even during those bleary late-night study sessions in college. The sight stirs something visceral within you, and for a brief moment, you feel a smug sense of pride as it dawns on you that you did this to him.

He pulls you towards him, imploring you to sit and you oblige, parting your legs to take the seat reserved for you on his lap. His hands creep up from beneath your top, stopping to fiddle with the underside of your boobs, just beneath your bra.

You let out a soft gasp as you press soft kisses against his neck, unsure if you can leave a mark on him.

You can feel the warmth of his body against your skin, as he groans into the crevice of your neck as you tentatively grind against him.

Your top ruffles up, due to his continued ministrations. The cold air striking against your exposed skin. Your nipples stiffen up against your bra as Suna's cold fingers reach up to rub the fabric of your bra, and you think maybe he's going to—

"Whether you're up in the clouds or going way underground, it's easy to take your music with you wherever you go. With Spotify Premium—"

[sheetsonfire]

"You called the police before you called me?"

Summary: The Halsteads are victims of a robbery.

Fandom: Chicago PD/Chicago Med

Characters: Sibling!Reader x Jay Halstead x Will Halstead

Genre: Fluff/Humour

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 469

Notes: Just a short little ficlet with the Halstead siblings. Set around Winter/Holiday time. Got inspiration from this prompt list.

...

"You called the police before you called me?" Will feigned offence, coming to stand by your side, surveying the scene of the crime.

“In case you forgot, our brother IS the police, it seemed like it was a two birds one stone situation, buddy.”

Jay smiles at your sass, he taught you well, looking smug as he smacks Will upside the head for pouting,

“She’s right, it was two birds one stone to call me. Besides you were on shift, saving the world.”

Will rubs the back of his head, making you roll your eyes with an amused expression. 

You stand with your hands on your hips, assessing the situation with disdain, Jay and Will share a glance, mouths turning up into a smile at your investigative stance. 

Will then tries to remain serious, addressing you and Jay at the same time,

“…so, Detectives, do we need to call Sergeant Voight in?”

Jay is willing to play along too, he scratches at his winter scruff of a beard, pondering. “I don’t think it’s a Voight situation yet, I’ll check the footage on the new cameras I installed for you, Will. Merry Christmas, by the way.” 

“Yeah, thanks, a new present handy in time to fall victim to a crime!”

Jay grins that signature cheeky smile, glad at least that should Will actually fall victim to something sinister, he would at least have footage to fall back on.

You huff, “Why would they even take the poor bastard anyway, he was on his way out of this life.”

“Maybe they wanted to have him for next year.” Will muses.

“What, they couldn’t get their own crappy dancing Frosty from a dollar store? Mom got us that little fella for her last Christmas. This was a family heirloom, taken in plain daylight!”

Will and Jay move in to pat you on the shoulder, it wasn’t really a problem that some stranger had snatched up the battered and withered 15-year old dancing Frosty that was losing its glow, but they knew it had an odd amount of sentimental value all the same.

Jay looks at you with a fond expression, “We’ll catch the son of a bitch, kiddo. Don’t you worry. In the meantime, can I cheer you both up with some pancakes?”

You and Will light up at the “P” word and make a start for the door to Will’s apartment.

“Yes! I’m so hungry from saving the citizens of the city.”

“I feel my pain would be eased by pancakes, Detective. Almost certainly.”

Your big brother laughs at you both, ushering you inside so he can get the heat going and some pancakes flipping; Will disappears to get changed whilst you warm up under a blanket on Will’s couch, waiting to watch a movie with the two best brothers you could have hoped for.

...

Fin.

[yundix]

Hiii<3 First, I wanna say that I REALLY LOVE your writing omg😭😭😭💘💘💘 and also, Can I request Yuzuha with a Sukeban (You know? Like, fem delinquents) s/o pretty please?🥺 (Sorry for my weird english😭)

Troublemaker

Yuzuha x Fem!Delinquent Reader

Contains: Fluff, fluff, more fluff, my love for Yuzuha shining through this post

Notes:First off, sorry for taking so long to post something! Inspiration comes and goes so fast for me, and when it goes it's really hard for me to write. But, when I got this request my heart went "LETS GO HOE" and here we are!

Anyways, thank you for requesting this! And I'm so happy you like my writing 🥺 I've been so iffy of my works. And your english is fine! Don't worry at all love, enjoy!

(Ngl I forgot if she was in a gang herself but-)

We all know that Yuzuha knows a lot about delinquents, considering she has two brothers who are both delinquents themselves

So usually she wasn't surprised or scared seeing them around

But one day she saw you, sitting on a park bench in some uniform, face beaten and blood running down your face

Upon closer expection, she saw the logo of a gang on your top, and it made her eyes widen just a bit

She's never seen a female delinquent before, so you were a sight to see

Noticing her form, you tilted your head and smiled at her, even though you felt terrible

"Am I that good looking?"

She learned that you were a somewhat well known delinquent from your gang and some members from anothet gang attacked you

IMMEDIATELY friends. I don't make the rules ♡

And your relationship grew from there

You guys clicked instantly, although Yuzuha was hesitant at first because at the time she was still enduring her eldests brothers abuse

Once you found out about that though, you were so insistant on getting your gang to beat the shit outta him, but she declined many times

You? Protective gf but not gf mode ON

You'd fight anyone to protect her, over the months you knew her, you found yourself becoming happier with the thought of seeing and being around her

Eventually, after the whole Christmas fiasco and you dotting over her and her brother, you eventually came to terms that you liked Yuzuha

Nah cause Hakkai saw it from miles away 💀 and when he told Mitsuya about it he laughed

They bet on who'd confess first

You were the one who ended up confessing, and it was on accident

Knocking on the familiar door of Yuzuhas and Hakkais home, you leaned against the wall and groaned. Your head was spinning, you barely remembered your way here.

The door opened, revealing none other than Yuzuha herself. She took one look at your battered state before ushering you inside, her light scolding falling on deaf ears.

As she pulled you along to her room, you simply stared at the back of her head with a smile. 'Pretty hair...'

You were sat down on her bed, and she quickly grabbed her first aid kit and went to work.

"Honestly, you scare me half to death with the amount of times you've showed up here looking like hell." Yuzuha huffed while dabbing rubbing alcohol onto your cheek.

You only hummed, closing your eyes with a grin.

"I'm just glad you're okay." You mumbled, temporarily shocking the other girl. She shook her head, thinking it was just the adrenaline and going back to patching you up.

"Those fuckers deserved it anyways...talk shit, get hit. They shouldn't of had your name in their mouths." Yuzuha slowed her movements, eyes meeting your lidded ones. You fought someone over her?

Giggling like a school girl, you leaned into her hand and sighed. At this point Yuzuhas face was burning red, your actions throwing her off.

Eventually you were all patched up, now borrowing a pair of Yuzuhas clothes. You wandered off into the kitchen where said girl stood, a cup of water in her hand. She held it out to you and you gladly accepted it, gulping it down and setting it aside.

Staring at Yuzuhas form, you noticed her avoiding your eyes.

Pushing off the counter, you stalked over to her form and hugged her, leaning your head against her shoulder. This wasn't new for either of you, with you being the more affectionate one. But it always made the girl blush.

"Thanks for always taking care of me Zuha. I know I can be a lot to handle sometimes with y'know, the fights and all. I'll treat you to something tomorrow, whatever you want." You couldn't see her face but Yuzuha felt like she was gonna burst.

On cloud nine? Yes, but also ready to have a heart attack.

Yuzuha chuckled, "is that a date?" She asked as a joke to ease her embarrassment.

You stepped back to face her, feeling your own cheeks warm up.

"Well I am madly in love with you so, if you want it to be."

Please that was so bad

Anyways, after y'all get together, your relationship is still pretty much the same but you're a lot more affectionate

Yuzuha goes mother mode whenever you get injured

You bring her along to your gang meetings occasionally, and everyone respects her (and if they didn't you'd stomp their face in)

She sees you fighting and 😳 miss take a picture it'll last longer

You offered her to join you and your gang but she declined, which you understood

Anyone messes with her? We all know Yuzuha can handle herself but you'll already be 2 steps ahead of her ready to handle it

LATE 👏 NIGHT 👏 DATES

Since school and the gang usually takes up a big portion of your time, you usually aren't available much during the day

When you are though, you're obviously by her side

But when you don't have any time until the later hours of the night, you end up running to some 24 hour convenient store and grabbing all y'alls favorite snacks before heading to her and Hakkais place

Your dates usually consist of either self care nights and pampering, or watching movies under a blanket fort and cuddling with all the snacks you brought

Your hands are calloused from all the fighting you've done, but Yuzuha loves playing with them while laying with you, or just doing it absentmindedly

It gives you butterflies don't ask

Teasing her all the time

It's basically ritual for you to do

So worth it when you see her flustered face and reactions

Everyone in your gang knows y'all are a thing and they think y'all are adorable

Hakkai approves 👍

If something happens to you during your fights and you end up hospitalized, she's by your side the entire time there

She's worried sick and once you're getting better she's relieved but scolds you for being so reckless

Bans you from any gang fights until you're 100% better

Still a win for you since you get to relax with her

Y'all are so in love with each other

BEST RELATIONSHIP

You wish that was you huh? So do I 😭

MAN I'd give up everything to be with her

Also sorry if this went off the rails of what it was originally supposed to be but I couldn't stop myself </3

[crackheadgeminibby]

Would you write something about x reader wanting to Chris do his tap dance and refuse to but gets convinced by his girlfriend? ☺️

wrapped around her finger

pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader

warnings: age gap, language, fluff, mentions of alcohol i guess

word count: 1.4k

a/n: hey! thanks for this request, it’s something i didn’t know i needed in my life😂i hope you like it!!

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

gif from TMZ

In the two years that you had been in a relationship with Chris, you had never seen him dance. Like an actual dance. Obviously, you had both attended numerous parties together and he always did stupid dance moves to make his friends, but mostly you, laugh.

You would think that with you being a dancer, Chris wouldn’t mind busting out some of the dance moves he learned when he was younger, but he never did. You asked all the time, mostly when he wasn't 100% sober and, thus, less self-conscious, but he always said that he didn’t remember.

It was the holiday season and this year, Chris and you had decided to spend it in Boston with his family. You both had a lot of things to take care of and you couldn’t afford to abandon them to travel halfway across the world to be with your family.

It was your first holiday season spent at the Evans’, which meant that you were about to witness a lot of their family traditions for the first time.

The first tradition that had been explained to you was that on December 23rd, the men went to get a tree while the women decorated the living room, followed by everyone decorating the tree when the men came back.

The next tradition was that, after Christmas Eve dinner, everyone had to open one present: matching pyjamas for the whole family.

The third tradition was the Christmas Day breakfast in the pyjamas from the previous night followed by games and a talent show.

You were currently seated in one of the chairs in the living room, watching as Scott and Chris were failing spectacularly at Pictionary.

“Time’s up!”, Shanna signals.

Scott groans, throwing his head back, “It was 'twist', Chris! Come on!”

Chris frowns at his brother, looking at the drawing, “How the hell was I supposed to guess that?”

“I drew a game of Twister!”

Chris crosses his arms, “It looks nothing like Twister, Scott.”

You snort before laughing at their bickering. You get up, leaving your glass on top of the fireplace, “Come on, Steve, it’s our turn!”

Scott groans, handing you the Sharpie as you get a piece of paper from the box. You open it, seeing 'gold medal' scribbled on it.

You smirk and turn back towards the family, nodding at Shanna so she can start the timer.

“Okay… GO!”, she announces.

You turn towards the paper, drawing a gold bar. Steve looks at you, inquisitively, before saying, “Umm, chocolate!” You shake your head, adding other gold bars to create a pyramid.

Steve looks at you, trying to figure out what you’re drawing, before screaming, “Oh! Gold bars!” You make a wavy sign with your hand, indicating that he’s almost there.

“Bar?” You shake your head again.

“Oh, okay, gold!”

You nod excitedly, moving on to the next part of the drawing. You draw a circle, writing 1 in it, and add a lanyard on top.

“1st place!” You shake your head at Steve, encircling the entire drawing, indicating that the answer is the whole thing.

“Umm, medal?” You frantically nod your head.

“Gold medal!”

“Yes!”, you scream in response. Steve gets up and hugs you excitedly before you both start doing your winner dance.

Scott and Chris both look at you, mouths agape, while a look of fake offense draws itself on Scott’s face, “How in the hell do you have a better connection with my boyfriend than I do with my brother?”

You chuckle, before shrugging your shoulders and replying, “Don’t worry, Scott. That was the last round so we're done winning everything…”

Scott and Chris both look at you with pouts on their faces as you laugh loudly, throwing your head back. You raise your hands in surrender and back away before plopping down in your seat, taking a sip of your drink.

“So, I believe I was told a talent show would be happening?”, you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

Lisa smiles widely before nodding, “Indeed. Chris and Scott, do you want to start us off?”

Chris and Scott turn on the TV, playing their music. You didn’t know what they had planned because as Chris had said: “you have to wait for the surprise”.

You immediately burst out in laughter as the melody of “A Whole New World” from Aladdin starts.

Chris had made you watch Aladdin at least three times in the past couple of weeks (you had stopped counting) and you were confused, but you didn’t particularly mind since you loved the movie.

You smile throughout their excellent rendition of the song, clapping and cheering when they’re finished. Chris smiles, sitting down next to you before Lisa announces that Shanna and Carly were next with a scene from Lilo & Stitch.

As his sisters are playing Lilo & Stitch hilariously well, Chris turns towards you, smiling, before taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles, whispering “I love you”. You feel heat rising to your face, smiling back at him and kissing his cheek before laying your head on his shoulder.

As Shanna and Carly are bowing after their performance, you see Lisa turning to you.

“Okay, Y/N, your turn.”

Your eyes widen as you stare at her, “Wait, what? I didn’t know I was supposed to prepare something.” Lisa raises an eyebrow before looking over at Chris who was getting redder by the second.

You look at him intently before he stutters, “I… um… forgot to tell you?”

You groan at him, throwing your head back. Lisa chuckles silently before saying, “Well, then, since you forgot to say anything, maybe you should join her.”

Chris’ head snaps up towards his mom, “What? Ma, no. I already went.”

Lisa looks at Chris before shrugging her shoulders.

“Well, then. You heard your mom. Up.”, you tell Chris while standing up.

Chris looks up at you, raising an eyebrow. He clearly had no intention of getting up.

“What are we even going to do?”

You smirk at Chris.

“Well, I intend on singing ‘I Just Can’t Wait To Be King’, now what you do next to me is... Dealer's choice.”, you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Scott’s face lights up, “Oh my God, Chris, why don’t you tap dance while she sings?”

Chris shakes his head rapidly, crossing his arms over his chest, “No. Absolutely not.”

Chris’ family members all start to plead, saying that they haven’t seen him tap dance in so long. He doesn’t budge, continuing to shake his head. As his family abandon their mission, falling silent, Chris looks up at you.

You give him a pleading look, mouthing "please" before biting your bottom lip. He uncrosses his arms, maintaining eye contact with you, before sighing loudly, “Fine…”

You smile at him, leaving a kiss on his cheek, before asking, “Okay, well, where are your shoes?”

He sighs again, starting to get up, “They’re in my closet, I’ll get them.”

You hold up your hand, replying, “I’ll get them. I wanted to get myself some water anyways.”

He nods before settling back down in his seat.

You climb up the stairs, entering Chris’ room before heading to the closet. As you’re looking for his shoes, you can hear that the family has started to talk, rather loudly.

As you’re getting a glass of water from the kitchen, you hear Chris’ mom.

“She really just has you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, yeah, she does.”, you hear Chris reply, love evident in his voice.

You enter the living room, a large smile plastered on your face, dangling Chris' tap shoes with one hand, “Well, then, Mr. Dancer, let’s do it.”

[hello-everyfandom]

“I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

Warnings: Light swearing

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Your love language is Gift Giving

(This is apart of my series “Love Languages”, please check it out!)

“Close your eyes.”

“Should I be worried?” George asked quite warily. 

“Will you just-” you huffed, “Please?”

“At least let me know what I’ve done wrong before you jinx my tongue to the top of my mouth.” George jokingly pleaded.

“If you know what’s best for you,” you lowered your voice to match his joke, “you’ll close your eyes.”

“Alright, but I’m trusting you,” George placed a grin on his lips, the dimple of his left cheek becoming more and more prominent. 

“Now, hold out your hands,” you said feeling more and more excited.George hesitantly put his hands out in front of him and jokingly flinched when you touched him. His comedic flinch made you laugh as you scanned him over to ensure his eyes were shut. Satisfied with George’s compliance, you slowly reached into your bag to pull out a wrapped gift. When it was safely in his hands, George’s fingers crinkled around the wrapping paper. He opened his eyes and saw you looking excitedly from the gift in his hands and to his confused face. 

Instantly, George began to sweat. Had he forgotten an anniversary? Or a birthday? Or some other holiday? 

He cursed in his mind, fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Go on then!” you smiled, “open it!”

George looked uncertain as he slowly unwrapped the gift revealing a small box. He lifted the box to see a small shaped coin. “It’s... uh.” He asked, picking it up and fiddling it with his fingers.

“It’s a coin!” you giggled at his confused reaction, “I bought it when I was in Russia over the summer to visit my cousin at Durmstrang.

“Oh! It! It is a coin! I love it!” George moved to pull you in a hug before you chuckled and pushed him away.

“It’s not just a coin. It’s a coin that has been enchanted.” You pointed to the head on the coin, “When you flip it, it’ll tell you whether or not someone is near you. See?” You took it out of his hand and flipped it in your hand, immediately it flipped to Heads. “For pranking, yeah?”

George looked at the coin in wonder and then again at your adoring face. “I... I love it.” He put a hand on your cheek and leaned to press a loving kiss to your lips. “But, I...”

“What is it?” you asked, holding his hand to your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, love. I think I... I think I forgot our anniversary or birthday or... I don’t. I’m so unbelievably sorry!” George spewed out.

“What!” you exclaimed in surprise, “No! No, no. Our anniversary isn’t until October!” you began to laugh, “I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

George let out a breath of relief before feeling tense once again, “But, I didn’t get you anything...”

You pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand, “I don’t expect you to! It was just something for my love, that’s all.” you looked up to see George’s concern written within his brows, “Really! I just got it for you because I thought it would be nice.”

George shook his worry and began to smile, “I love you, you know that?”

“Oh, I know. I’m the most glorious girlfriend in the entirety of the world.”

“And so humble as well.” George grinned before giving you another long kiss. 

George grew up with seven siblings. While he grew up with hand-me-downs and knitted clothing from his mother, you grew up on the richer side of the Wizarding World. He wasn’t used to receiving expensive gifts and frankly felt a little uncomfortable and insecure. All the gifts you had given him must have cost a fortune, something he would never truly acquire. And although he loved his family and his upbringing, he cannot help but feel shameful at the fact that he cannot shower you in gifts as you did to him. 

It began with a new quill, then some pranking supplies, and soon the smaller gifts like the flowers you collected for him and the ties you bought turned into new robes and wand adjustments from Olivander’s. He accepted them graciously and sometimes even refused gifts as they seemed to be too expensive. With your assurance, he took them with a smile on his face but his head hanging low. 

With your anniversary coming up, George could feel the hole in his pocket becoming larger and larger and the money he had saved up had gone to ensure the twins’ ability to start their own joke shop. 

“I have no idea what to get her,” George flopped down on the couch. 

Ginny, who was sat to his left, looked up from her book.“What do you mean?” She raised her eyebrow at her miserable older brother and looked to his twin who sat on his right.

“I mean,” George groaned and placed a hand over his eyes, “What do you get the most perfect girl in the world? What do you get her that she doesn’t already have?”

Fred began to laugh, “It’s happened, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, I think it has,” Ginny chimed in.

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

“Georgie, can’t you see?” Ginny grinned teasingly, “You’re whipped.”

“Like Mum’s Christmas cream, you’re entirely whipped,” Fred added.

George sat up instantly and looked at his siblings with annoyance, “Well, we already knew that!”

Fred and Ginny joined together in laughter, noting how George’s vein is popping out of his forehead. 

“Will you two stop your bloody, dumb, shitty teasing and just-” George groaned again and flopped back on the couch, “Help me?” He asked almost pathetically.

“How much did you want to spend?” Ginny asked, quieting her laughing.

“I don’t know! I just know that I don’t have enough.” George moaned.

“A necklace for the lady, perhaps?” Fred suggested making George shake his head.

“She’s already got enough necklaces and jewelry to fill an entire block on Diagonalley.”

“New quill?” Ginny added,

“No, she’s got her school supplies shipped from some store in America.”

Ginny and Fred began to suggest more and more things to which George either did not like because they were not “you” or because you already had them.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Ginny exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “What the hell can you buy?”

Fred thought for a moment, putting his fingers to his lip as he usually did deep in thought. “What if you don’t buy her a gift?”

“And what? Don’t get her anything at all?” George said sarcastically, “Good plan, you bellend.”

Fred reached over the arm of his chair and gave his twin a good wallop on the shoulder, “No, you dickhead. Don’t buy her anything.”

Ginny caught onto Fred’s idea and nodded, “That’s actually not a bad idea, Georgie, don’t buy her anything.”

“Hello??” George yelled, “Are you two not thinking right?”

“George, stop being a smart arse,” Ginny berated, “Get her something homemade instead.”

George opened one of his eyes to look at his sister who stared back at him in annoyance. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Ginny mocked, “Make her something.”

George groaned again making Ginny and Fred roll their eyes. “But I can’t make anything but dung bombs.”

“Then, you’re out of luck,” Ginny stood up, dusting off her pants. 

Before she could leave, George bolted up and grabbed her wrist. “Gin!” He yelled, “You know how to knit, yeah?”

“Uhm,” she looked to Fred for assistance, “I guess, Mum tried to teach me once, but I-”

“Brilliant!” George grinned, feeling his frustration seep away, “Then you’ll teach me!”

“Georgie,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “I don’t really even know how to knit myself, nevertheless be able to teach you.”

“But, you’ll help?” He asked, putting his puppy dog face on.

Ginny looked at her older brother, her weakness, and let out a sigh, “Fine, whatever.” George shouted in victory, “But, you have to also write Mum and ask her because she knows more than I do. And... you have to tell Y/N that the idea was mine.”

George reached up and kissed his sister’s cheek making her scream in disgust, “Yes, done and done! You are the best sibling in the entirety of the world.”

George turned sharply and sprinted up the stairs to write a letter to his Mum.

“What the hell am I then?” Fred crossed his arms, “Toasted squid?” 

The following days were spent with Ginny and George trying, and rather unsuccessfully, to knit a sweater for you. Fred watched in the background making witty and snide comments. Molly had written back with such haste that Pigwidgeon was nearly on his last breath before arriving at Hogwarts. She sent many words of encouragement and told him that he was the absolute “sweetest” which was in large contrast to Ginny’s frustrated and rather harsh criticism.

“No! You’re supposed to go over not, George! Have you even been listening this entire time?”

“Of course I have,” George said defensively, “It’s just confusing, that’s all.”

“Why can’t we just use magic?” Ginny whined.

“Because then it wouldn’t be homemade, hence the word, home, little sister.” George frowned, “What does it matter anyway? She won’t like it.” 

“Georgie,” Fred pushed off of the wall he was leaning on, “Stop being such a worry-wart.” He patted a hand on his shoulder, “Y/N is the sweetest girl, just because she’s richer than Merlin knows and can afford whatever she wants and doesn’t have to care about-”

“Alright, get on with it, Fred,” George warned.

“She’ll love it no matter what.” Fred finished, sending his twin a much needed reassuring smile.

“I hope so,” George sighed and picked up the needles once again. “Now, what the hell do I do again?”

By the time your anniversary approached, you were nearly bouncing with joy. You had gotten George the perfect present, something he’d never ever expect. Thankfully, your anniversary landed on a Sunday so you woke up and rushed to get ready in the morning. George waited, anxiously, on the stairs for you until you emerged. 

Dressed in jeans and a nice blouse, George was nearly breathless upon seeing you. He gulped as you walked down, seeing the gold necklace your parents had gifted you for your last birthday and pearl earrings they’d given you after getting amazing marks on your exams. 

“Hi,” you said softly, locking your fingers with his.

“Hi, darling,” he said back, pressing a kiss on your cheek. 

“Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” you sighed contently and began to walk to the portrait.

“Now, what shall we do on our momentous day of love?” George asked, swinging your joined hands. 

You pulled your bag up closer on your shoulder and smiled back.“I think,” you paused, “we should go on a walk. A long, romantic walk.”

“Then a walk we shall take!” George led the way, pulling you through the corridors making you giggle. 

It was a delightful day spent with kisses and fond memories. You snapped a few photos of your boyfriend with the old camera you had bought.

“Now, I’ll never understand,” George raised his eyebrow, “Why you have a camera older than time itself rather than one of those new, fancy-schmancy cameras.”

You looked admiringly at the photo your camera just printed. As it developed, you could see the two of you, cheeks pressed together, you with a shy smile and George with his tongue sticking out. Another photo you had taken moments before was a snapshot of George’s lips pressed to your cheek and you could just make out the blushing on your face.

“Well,” you looked back up at your boyfriend, “I just happen to love old, worn things I suppose. Why do you think I’m with you?” you added, teasingly.

“Oi,” he defended, “ ‘m only a few months older than you, love. And I’m not worn, I’m newer than a baby’s bottom. You’re the only girl ‘ve been with.” 

“Only? As in there will be more?” you asked, a taunting tone on your tongue. George looked at you, as lovingly and as gentle as he ever could, and thought nothing more of the life you two would have. Happy, content, any other words that describe a healthy and romantic relationship. His thoughts began to waver at the idea of how he’d only be able to afford a small flat, that is if the joke shop even took off in the first place. He thought of all the expensive things he could never afford and how you may resent him. As you looked at him, you thought of the happy children you’d have and the copious amounts of dogs and cats you’d care for. George swallowed harshly.

“Only.” He repeated. You blushed once again and leaned to kiss him. The feeling of your touch on his made George fall quicker, deeper, and madly in love. 

After dinner in the Great Hall, in which George absolutely refused for anyone to sit next to or in front of you in order to make it more “private,” the two of you were laid, cuddled on your bed. George could feel the anxiety and panic set in when he realized soon he’d be giving the girl of his dreams a disappointing gift. 

You hummed, sweet with content, and put your chin on his chest. “I’ve never been happier.”

“I’m so glad,” George ran his fingers through your hair, pushing the stray ones behind your ear. “But,” you said as you sat up, “I do believe anniversaries come with a certain type of exchange.”

“Oh?” George asked, sitting up as well. His fingers felt knotted and his throat was closing up. He had sneaked his gift in, awfully wrapped in some colorful parchment, and placed it under your bed.Be confident, George pleaded and tried his best to act cooly. 

“I’ll go first, may I please, please go first!” you begged. 

George bit his tongue, much preferring he’d go first in order to deal with the disappointment before anything and also give you a chance to dump his impoverished arse.

“Of course, darling,” he nodded making you squeal in delight. George breathed deeply and closed his eyes, holding his hands out as he usually did when you gave him gifts. In his hands, he could feel a box wrapped with a bow.

“Alright, go on!” you nodded eagerly. George let out a shaky breath before carefully removing the bow and lifting the lid. To his delight, he picked up a pair of wool socks that were embroidered with small hearts on the sides. “It’s-”

“Socks!” you finished for him, “Because you get cold feet, remember? Now, when you are playing Quidditch or cold at night, you can wear them and think of me!” George broke out in a grin and thanked the heavens for his girlfriend and all the luck in the world that it took for him to find her. “I love them.” 

“Really?” you asked, pointing at the hearts, “I did those myself!” 

“They look wonderful, I absolutely adore them.” He leaned and kissed you. 

The kiss was long as George put a hand on your neck to pull you closer. His lips moving against yours made butterflies take flight and your bones become weaker. As he pulled away, you rested your forehead on his trying to catch your breath.

“My turn?” George asked making you nod. George pulled out his crappily wrapped gift, that Ginny told him off for, and put it in the bed. 

“Oh! Wrapped it yourself, I see?” you teased. George nodded proudly, becoming more and more confident in his gift. 

As you lifted your fingers to rip the paper off, you paused and faced him with another sly smile.

“Alright! Okay, I was going to save it till the end of the night, but I simply cannot wait.” George’s eyes widened as you jolted off of the bed. “You didn’t think I only got you socks, did you?” you asked, moving towards the trunk at the end of your bed.

“No, wait, Dear, the socks are lovely, I don’t need another-”

“I know, I know, but I couldn’t help it!” you sent him a wink, “Now, this one is the actual gift.”

“Actual gift?” George stuttered.Pulling out a large object, larger than your entire frame, George clenched his jaw. You struggled a bit to put it on the bed but managed and sat down in front of him.

“Happy Anniversary, my love.” your voice made him wince a bit.

You watched in utter excitement as George began to slowly unwrap his gift. Removing all the paper, George nearly fainted seeing his gift. A new broom, one of the best in the world, something he’d never ever be able to buy for himself. A broom, costing more than Merlin knows galleons. 

“So!” you bounced, “Do you like it? I saw at your other games, that bludger took out part of the tail end of your broom and I could not live with myself if you had an accident due to a faulty broom! I went and got it myself,” you said proudly. 

“And! It’s the fastest, rarest, and nicest type of wood, with a partially enchanted seat to help you stay upright!”

George’s hands shook, holding the broom.

“I-”

“Speechless? That was my entire goal!” you raised your fist in victory. 

“Y/N-”

“I know! And, not to mention, now you can wear your socks during the game! Two gifts in one!”

“Y/N-”

“I debated on getting you new gloves, but they wouldn’t be shipped in till middle of November and-”

“Y/N,” George said softly but firmly making you look at him with concern. You had never seen this facial expression on George as his eyes were nearly welled with tears and his lip was red from his biting.

“What’s wrong?” you asked frantically, “is it the wrong size? I gave the shopkeeper your height and everything-”

“No,” George said, putting the broom to lean on the wall next to your bed. “I can’t take this.”

“What do you mean? Love, I got it for you!” you laughed, waving your hand.

“No, Y/N, I seriously cannot take this.” You frowned, 

George’s voice was shaky making your heart drop. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s too expensive-”

“Nonsense, I saved up for it!”

“Baby,” George said, small and timid, “I cannot accept any more expensive gifts from you.” 

“What do you mean?” you questioned, leaning forwards to grab one of his hands, “the price doesn’t matter to me, I literally could not care,”

“But I care.” George protested. 

You nearly began to cry as you saw a tear dripped down George’s cheek. You sat up so you were sitting on your knees and gingerly placed your hands on his cheeks.

“My love, what’s wrong? Won’t you tell me?” you whispered, rubbing soft strokes with your thumbs. 

“I...” George struggled to find the words to describe how awful he felt, “I cannot take your gifts. And... and I’ll never be able to give you these types of gifts.”

Your eyes widened in surprise before you began to furiously shake your head, “George Weasley, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I’ll never be able to give you expensive things like necklaces or pearls or nice perfumes or nice suppers at fancy restaurants. I’ll never be able to give you the gifts you deserve. You deserve to be treated like a princess or a queen or anything and I cannot give you that, I can’t.” George let out.

You thought of his words in utter disbelief. Never once did you ever think of George’s economic standing and neither did you care. 

“But you do treat me like a princess,” you encouraged, making George moan with more tears, “You do. You tuck me in when I’m all tired from classes and make me cuppa’s in the morning. You massage my shoulders when I’m stressed and you hold my hand when you know I’m anxious.” You pushed his head up so your eyes met, “I mean that, from the bottom of my heart. I don’t care if you cannot give me expensive gifts or fancy dinners or anything, I care that you love me and want me to be by your side.”

“But, you give me all these-”

“I do it because I love giving you gifts! I love seeing you smile. And not all my gifts are expensive, sometimes I give you flowers I’ve seen or biscuits from the Great Hall. My darling, you do not need to worry if I feel as though you cannot provide for me, because you provide more than enough for me. I don’t care about money or gifts or anything like that.” you assured. 

George went silent and you began to pepper his cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses until he cracked and started to smile. 

“I’ve just got the best girlfriend ever, haven’t I?” George asked, pulling you onto his lap. 

You curled into his chest and nodded.

“Oh, absolutely.”

It was quiet between you two again until you chimed up, “Well... may I have my gift now?”

“Uhhh, it’s uhh,” George stuttered. “It’s not amazing.”

“Don’t care!” you grinned and picked up his gift. “I’m so excited, I could nearly pee myself.”

George jokingly shoved you, “Oi, blimey well don’t do that. Not while you’re sitting on me at least.” 

You shoved him back before opening his gift. George held his breath as you unraveled the present and saw his gift. Your heart nearly stopped. You picked up the sweater, moving the parchment aside, and placed it on your lap. The sweater was yellow and made with soft wool. On the front, there was a badly made daisy, the flowers you always got for him during the Spring. Touching the fabric softly, tracing over each petal you stared at.

“I know it isn’t much but-” Before George could finish his apology, you took him by surprise and wrapped your arms around his neck tightly. Pressing kisses on the crook of his neck, he could feel your smile.

“I absolutely love it.”

“Really?”

“With all my heart, I’ve never been given something handmade nor something so sweet.”

“I made it... myself.”You picked up the sweater and laughed, “I can tell. How long did it take you?”

George paused, thinking and smiling sheepishly, “A few weeks maybe.”

“And you made it all by yourself? No magic?”

“No magic,” George confirmed, “But, Ginny did help me... she and Fred helped me come up with the idea.”

You shifted in George’s lap, moving so you could toss off the blouse you were wearing and shrugging the sweater on. It was warm and smelled of honey and pine and the string he had used made you feel as if you were wrapped in a hug of his. 

“George... I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” 

George blushed a deep red as you kissed first his cheek and then his lips.

“You’re welcome, Darling. I’m just glad I’ve finally given you a good enough gift.”

“Well,” you kissed the skin of his neck, “I’ll wear it every day. But...”

“But?” George asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“But, I think right now, I’d like it off,” you suggested, lowering your eyes at him.

“Off?” George asked confusedly before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Oh, off!”

“You’re so smart, aren’t you?” you snorted before pulling George in for another kiss.  

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

[mxthtea]

Hello could I request a gn!Reader x Kallen Kaslana School Au. Romance Mistletoe

Idea : well since christmas is around the corner and I though that a christmas type request would be great so you see at christmas there is a thing called mistletoe. I dont thing i need to say anymore than that i think you see where im going with this XD

(If not. Two people kiss underneath the mistletoe)

*rubs my gremlin hands together* kallen you say?

also anon, i made reader n kallen pine for each other a lot at first instead of making them date bc im gay and idk i thought it'd be cute.

[ yae sakura vers ]

request info

kallen x gn!reader warnings: christmas things, sharing a bed/cuddling, hugging, kissing, use of y/n, grammar + spelling mistakes, lowercase writing, tell me if i forgot any. description:

despite it being early, your school had already put holiday decorations up for it. even kallen had helped you decorate your dorm room for the holidays as well, and you helped decorate hers in return. word count: 1.1k

despite it being early, your school had already put holiday decorations up for it. even kallen had helped you decorate your dorm room for the holidays as well, and you helped decorate hers in return.

kallen seemed especially happy today, which you had noticed a bit ago. there was a light tone if her voice as she walked with you and sakura back to your dorms together. the three of you had dorms nearby each other, which helped since the three of you were all friends with each other. it was easier to be by your friends in unknown schools after all. which was definitely important at the beginning of the years you first enrolled at the school.

"are you two spending the night together, then?" sakura asked.

kallen had made plans with you to hang out together in her dorm room for the night. she didn't really have a reason she just said she wanted to hang out with you that night. you agreed of course, feeling your stomach erupt with butterflies with her wanted to spend time with you.

"only is y/n wants to! but i'm fine either way really," kallen smiled.

sakura looked at you with a knowing smile.

of course she knew you liked kallen. she probably knew how kallen felt about you too.

"i'd be fine with it! my dorm can feel weird when i'm on my own sometimes anyways," you slid out an excuse to why you wanted to spend the night with kallen.

sakura's knowing look only seemed to grow. "alright, hope you too have fun. i'll see you tomorrow then? for the study session?"

"mhm, we'll see you then sakura!" kallen bid sakura a goodbye as the pink haired student walked to her dorm.

"i'll go get some things out of my room, just need my blanket and pillow," you said.

before you could take a step in the direction towards your dorm room, kallen said something else.

"it's fine! there's some spare blankets and a pillow in my room if you want to share!"

she seemed to had blurt it out without thinking, covering her mouth with her hands. kallen's face glowed a bright red in embarrassment at how loud she was from that suggestion.

"o-of course!" you agreed. kallen let out a breath that not even she knew she was holding.

together, you and kallen walked to her dorm room together. though you two did make a quick stop of your room to get your electronics and computer.

upon entering kallen's room, you seemed to have forgotten how many decorations you had put up with her. on her desk, there was a little tree with miniature ornaments on it that hung onto the small branches of it. you also put the things you brought on her desk from kallen's request. hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room there was also… mistletoe? when did you hang that up? did kallen do it after you left?

wait did that mea -

"uh… y/n, i've had something to tell you," kallen said. she stood in the middle of the room, underneath the mistletoe.

"i don't know if you return my feeling but i- i really like you. like not in a friendship way but in a love way, you know? i have for a while but i've never said anything to you because i didn't know if you liked me back. but i've had these feeling for a while and i think it's finally time i let them go and present them to you" kallen took a breath, "y/n, i really really really like you. and it's fine if you don't return my feelings.

but if you do, please know that i love you just as much back."

did she actually- does she really return your feelings? you felt frozen in place, not able to move or even blink at the realization that kallen did like you back. well forget just having butterflies in your stomach, they were everywhere. it was great to know kallen liked you back but-

"d-do you not feel the same?" kallen asked.

in that moment, you had finally snapped back, "n-no i do! i love you lot actually kallen! i've liked you for a long time actually i just didn't expect you'd feel the same really."

"really? you like me back then?"

kallen had a face a shock, until it turned to a bright smile. her eyes lit up as she opened her arms for you to walk into. you took her offer, running into her arms and crashing yourself into kallen's embrace. she caught you, wrapping her arms around your body. she couldn't help herself from letting out a laugh.

"i can't believe you liked me back though… when i told sakura about my feelings for you she never said anything," kallen said.

"wait sakura knew?" you asked.

"well yeah! she even said she already knew about it a few days after i told her. apparently i was really giving it away with how i kept inviting you to my dorm. really hoped you didn't figure it out though. don't know how i'd feel having you know i loved you haha…"

you sighed, of course sakura knew. she said the same to you a while back too, saying it was obvious you liked kallen. you hoped kallen didn't know before today but the chance she might've now sat on your shoulders. at least if she did know, it wouldn't break your friendship now.

well technically it might've in the fact that you -

"oh! wait y/n- you know what mistletoe means, right?"

you looked up to indeed see both you and kallen were standing under the mistletoe she had put up in her room. so the purpose of it this whole time was just for this confession then…

"i do. do you want to uh… kiss…?"

kallen laughed instead of responding, leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. you smiled, finally knowing that kallen did indeed like you back. you both pulled away, still holding onto each other in a comforting hug.

"i have one more thing to ask as well," kallen muttered.

"yeah?"

"you wouldn't mind sharing a bed right? i do have spare blankets and a pillow if you don't want to but just incase you did actually want to share my bed, i'd be fine with it."

"of course, i wouldn't mind sharing a bed with you either."

kallen smiled, "could you take my hair out of its braid as well? it's easier for someone else to do it, honestly."

of course, you nodded and agreed to help. kallen separated from the hug and turned to show her braid. taking her braid, you carefully took out the tie and undid the braid until kallen's snow white hair stood without it. her hair was surprisingly soft.

kallen thanked you, taking your hand and laying onto her bed, which you followed her onto. she smiled once again, kissing your forehead.

"i love you, y/n."

"i love you too, kallen."

[headheartbellarke]

Paper Rings | OWEN JOYNER

Requested by anon: “Owen request? A series of events that leads Owen to finally working up the courage to propose to his girlfriend?” PAIRING(s): Owen Joyner x fem!reader WARNING(s): some language, mentions of abuse, panic attack, anxiety, and fluff haha WORDS: 3.7k SUMMARY: Five times Owen almost asks his girlfriend to marry him, and one time he actually does.

0.

    Charlie looks around, feeling out of place amongst the big mirrors, bright lights, and the sparkling diamonds. When his best friend, Owen, told him that he wanted a ‘guys night’ (he’s still unsure as to why he wants to have one: they live together, it’s guys’ night every night – he was expecting bars, or clubs, or fancy restaurants; things they don’t get to do every night, because of work. But he definitely wasn’t expecting to be dragged into a jewellery store.

  “O, buddy, what are we doing here?”

  Owen shushes him, walking ahead to a counter. A woman with kind eyes greets him. “Mr. Joyner!”

  He smiles, familiarity pooling in his eyes.

  Charlie frowns. He didn’t expect Owen to be into jewellery – sure, he buys stuff for his sister and mother, but he always takes them with him.

  He thinks of Y/N, Owen’s girlfriend of about five years – there’s a possibility that he may be buying something for her, but it’s highly unlikely. Y/N has been pretty vocal about the fact that she hates diamonds, and who’s to blame her, really? Her father used to buy her mother a diamond necklace after every time he hit her or when he came home smelling of another woman’s perfume.

  Charlie exclaims, “Owen! I’m gonna die if you don’t tell me what’s going on!”

   “I know, I know.” He shushes him, again, and Charlie feels like a child, even though he’s older than the blonde boy. Owen turns to the woman in front of him, Miranda, as her name tag reads, and says, “I hope it’s ready.”

  She nods, excitedly. “Yes! I have it right here with me.”

  She disappears beneath the counter, and Charlie expects her to return with a big box, like a magician’s apprentice. But, instead, she emerges with a small, tiny box and he wonders –

  As realization dawns upon him, he feels a rush of euphoria. “Oh my god, are you –”

  Owen nods, his face aglow with anticipation, hope and adoration. “I – I walked into this store a couple of weeks ago, after I decided that I wanted to marry her, I mean, I’ve known it for a while, you know? I can’t see myself being with anyone but her for the rest of my life, and I want a family with her. She’s my soulmate, dude. And I – I think it’s the right time, too. She’s got that amazing job, and my career’s going great, so, yeah. I wanna marry her.”

  Charlie sniffs, feeling tears at the back of his eyes. “Bro.”

  His friend grins. “Bro.”

  Charlie pulls him into a hug, but Owen pushes him away, and they swat each other’s hands for a second before Owen whisper shouts, “Do you wanna see the ring or not?!”

  Charlie’s eyes widen and he nods. They turn to the woman in front of them, and she points to the box placed on the counter before them. “If you’re ready.”

  Owen nods, and Charlie feels amazed at the determination clouding his irises. He opens the box, and the Canadian boy gasps.

  Inside sits a simple platinum ring. Except at the middle, there’s a diamond shaped like a star. It’s so beautifully built, every edge looking like they’re fit to cut steel. And the entire ring – it’s so simple, yet beautiful, and Charlie knows why he picked it.  

  It’s a mirror of the way Owen sees Y/N – something gorgeous, something priceless, something elegant, yet something so simple to him, and something that will always makes sense, no matter what.

1.

    Owen inhales, staring at his reflection in the full body length mirror in front of him. He’s going to do it today – he is going to ask his best friend, his soulmate and the love of his life to marry him. He has planned it all – even Charlie went out with the rest of the cast tonight to give the twenty-three-year-olds some privacy. (Charlie, Y/N, and Owen live together in Vancouver, at least while shooting the fourth season of Julie and The Phantoms, so, as one can guess, it’s really difficult to get a moment alone – but since the both of them love Charlie so fucking much, they don’t really mind.)

  He straightens his tie and hears soft footsteps in the hallway outside his room. Y/N’s head pokes in, her face lit up like Christmas lights.

   “Don’t you look sharp!” She says, while walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his torso. Owen smiles, catching her eyes in the reflection. “Are the bad puns ever going to stop?”

  She gasps, dramatically, and exclaims, “You don’t gotta be so mean about it!”

  He shakes his head, and feels love swell in his chest for the woman behind him. “I love you so much, you know that, right?”

  A mischievous glint appears in her eyes. “I could use a reminder.”

  Owen grins, turning backwards and cups her face in his hands, about to kiss her, when a voice stops him.

  “I think I just broke the coffee machine!”

  Y/N’s eyes widen, and she yells, “You did what?!”

  Owen’s brows furrow. “Is that –”

  She casts him an apologetic glance. “Zoe, yeah. I forgot to tell you, but Cece had to go out last minute, so I offered to watch her for the evening!”

  Usually, Owen loves kids, especially Y/N’s cousins like Zoe, but right now, he feels like jumping off a cliff. She seems to sense that as she runs her hands down his arms, and says, “I’m sorry! I know you said that tonight was gonna be just us, but you love Zoe, don’t you? And it’s gonna be fun, I promise!”

  It’s not. Owen had booked a table at Y/N’s favorite restaurant in Vancouver, and he would have proposed midway through the dinner, when the musicians there would start to play ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift, and when they got to the bridge, he would have dropped to a knee.

  Ignoring the weight in his chest, he plasters a smile on his face. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry, I just – it’s been a while since we’ve been alone, you know? With work and all. But I’m sure it’s gonna be great with Zoe, too!”

  She nods. “Thank you. We can go out alone next week when Charlie has that photoshoot with Madi!”

  He nods. “Absolutely.”

  The little black box stays hidden in the pocket of the beige coat in his closet that he never wears.

2.

    As Y/N smiles at him, Owen thinks that this is it. This is the moment he’s gonna ask her to marry him.

  As the light from the fire illuminates her face, he thinks about how perfect this weekend has been. After long days, and even longer nights of filming, they finally got a weekend off, and Charlie immediately booked a cabin in North Vancouver.

  And there’s no one better at planning trips than Charlie.

  Along with Owen, Y/N, and Charlie; Madison, Jadah, Jeremy and his wife, Carolynn, Savannah, Sacha, and Tori are here, too, everyone basking in the peace. Throughout the weekend, they’ve done anything and everything they can do in snow – from skiing, to making snow angels, and finally, as the shades of evening rolled on the last day of their trip, they are tired.

  After dinner, everyone wordlessly returned to their rooms, and Owen knows that they’re all fast asleep, right now – except Y/N, who is still as bubbly as champagne.

  When they returned to their room, Y/N quickly lit the fire – because no matter if it’s snowing or if it’s fifty degrees outside – she is always freezing.

  It’s the opposite in Owen’s case, though – he’s always warm, and that’s why Y/N wasted no time to settle in his lap.

  Owen quickly pats his pocket to check if the ring’s still there. It is, and it’s been there for the whole weekend. He’s been searching for opportunities, but they were always either with someone, or it wasn’t a good time.

  “O?” She asks, her voice soft.

  “Hmm?” He replies, threading his fingers through her hair.

  Her eyes brighten up, putting the fire in front of them to shame. “I’ve just had an idea.”

  “Later. First, I have something to ask you.” He says, his hand reaching into his pocket again.

  She smiles. “I know what you’re gonna ask.”

  Owen’s surprised. “You do?”

  She nods excitedly. “Yeah. Charlie told me!”

  He must have had a horrified look on his face because her eyes widen quickly. “Oh, he didn’t want to, believe me! But, now that I know, tell me, when are you gonna do it?”

  Owen stammers, suddenly feeling breathless in this room. The anxiety starts to pool in his stomach, along with an anger, directed towards Charlie. “I – I – I can’t believe he told you this…”

  She shrugs. “You know that he can’t hide anything from me. He’s like the brother I never asked for. Anyway, so he was showing me some of the designs, and I love you, but I don’t think you can handle a tooth piercing.”

  Owen’s brows furrow. “What?”

  “Like, totally no offence, but you passed out when the dentist came to do a routine check up on your teeth. I don’t wanna imagine what would happen if you got them pierced.”

  “What are talking about?!”

  “Charlie and your matching piercings, dummy! What else would I be talking about?” She looks at him as if he’s grown a third head.

  Owen’s lips part. “We are not getting matching piercings – I wasn’t gonna ask you that!”

  “Oh!” Her eyes widen. “What were you gonna ask, then?”

  He gulps, thinking to himself – this is it. This is it. This is it.

  “Do you wanna go home for New Year’s?”

  He mentally curses when that question comes out of his mouth, and even with Y/N’s bright smile, he starts to feel queasy inside, knowing that he still isn’t confident enough to actually ask her.

3.

    Owen wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and stands up. “Y/N, I have to tell you something.”

  She nods, her eyes sweeping across the mostly empty LA beach. He brought her here today to finally ask her to marry him – his past attempts have been nothing short of disastrous.

  As he opens his mouth, he feels a pang in his heart, and his mind starts to race. All kinds of thoughts race through his mind, like – what if she says no? what if she hates him for ruining what they have? What if Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift becomes his most relatable song? What if she –

  Y/N stands up, and her hand finds that of Owen’s, a reassurance, and he knows that she can sense his anxiety. She doesn’t ask him to talk about it – she knows that he will, eventually, when he’s ready. For now, she shows him that she’s here for him, and somehow that is enough.

  As she brushes his hair, his mind starts to calm down, his erratic breathing slowing down and involuntarily matching the pace of her breathing. She whispers, softly, “You’re okay. You’re safe. Everything is okay. You’re okay. I love you. I love you –”

  She keeps repeating that, until it’s like a mantra in Owen’s head, turning the racing thoughts to mere background noise.

  He opens his eyes, and looks into hers, and finally feels calm. He exhales. “That… uh....”

  She nods, comfort flooding through her eyes. “I know, baby. But it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

  He shakes his head, taking his hand in hers. “I – I – I think that maybe you and I should, uh, get – um, matching tattoos. Yeah. That’s what I wanted to ask you.” He lies.

  She nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Of course. You don’t even have to ask – we’ve always talked about it, and I think that now is the perfect time! Do you wanna –”

  As Y/N talks about designs, he thinks that he’s a fucking coward.

4.

    As Owen laughs, he feels confident, for once. He knows that tonight he’ll be able to ask her to marry him, especially in front of all his family – he loves his family, and so does Y/N and vice versa. He remembers the first time he brought her home three months after they’d started dating. He remembers feeling absolutely euphoric about the fact that she fit right in with his family. That was also the day that she had told him, for the first time, that she loves him.

  He looks around the table, and watches Y/N talk animatedly to his mother. His parents think of her as their own daughter, especially after finding out about her rocky relationship with her father. Y/N’s mother sits next to Owen, and he loves how carefree she looks – her ex-husband, really, was an asshole.

  He takes the little box out of his pocket, and his cousin, Elias, gasps. “Is that an engagement ring?” He whispers, his face scrunching as if the sentence left a bad taste in his mouth.

  Owen nods. “Yes. Elias, I would appreciate it if you kept it down.”

  His cousin raises his hands. “Always, homie.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Right.”

  Elias looks around. “Hey, do you think that it’s a good idea to propose now?”

  “What do you mean?” Owen’s brows furrow.

  “I mean people do it in private for a reason. What if she says no and then you get embarrassed in front of your entire family and hers? It’s sympathetic looks for the rest of your life, bro. And your parents wouldn’t be able to talk to her, nor to her mom, ‘cause it’d be, ya know, friggin’ embarrassing. Everyone’s probably gonna hate you.”

  Owen’s eyes widen, and he toys with the truth in his cousin’s words. Elias shrugs, and takes a sip of his water. “But it’s up to you, dude.”

  Slowly, Owen slides the ring back into his pocket.

5.

    Owen looks around, checking if any distractions could be in this room. None. How could it, though? He’s standing in an empty classroom, in the middle of winter break. Nobody in their right minds would be here.

  Well, that would mean that Owen’s not in his right mind. To be really, really, really honest – he is kind of losing it. He has been trying to propose to Y/N for the past month, but every time – every god damn time, something comes up and ruins everything.

  So, he decided to break into his middle school. Well, ‘break into’ isn’t the right phrase – he asked the guard to give him the keys for the night, and even thanked him with a hundred dollar note. Unlike his girlfriend, he’s incapable of breaking rules.

  The guard thought that it was very romantic of him, but really, he’s just tired and wants to get married already. He taps his foot anxiously, and finally hears the door opening, signalling Y/N’s arrival.

  God, she looks absolutely adorable. Her nose is crimson from the cold, and she is bundled under what seems to be ten layers of clothing. She huffs, grinning when she notices him.

  “Are we here to make out? Because your house was much more comfortable and so, so warm.”

  Owen shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “Well, are you gonna murder me, O? Because, well, it’s certainly the perfect location.”

  “I have to tell you something.” He says, taking a step toward her. He looks around and sees that there is nothing that could possibly ruin this moment, and smiles brightly, preparing himself. Y/N’s eyes gleam with anticipation, as she nods for him to continue.

  “Y/N, I still remember the day that I met you. I remember the way you smiled at me even though I had spilled black coffee all over you and ruined your very pretty, white dress.”

  She laughs. “I was really mad at first, yeah. But the cutest boy in all of Oklahoma was in front of me, and well, you know that I was a goner.”

  He smiles fondly. “And the beautifulest girl in the world was in front of me.”

  “That’s not a word.”

  “I know. And then you laughed at my dumb jokes, and even agreed to go on a date with me.”

  “To compensate for that absolutely gorgeous dress.” She clarifies, a teasing smile on her face.

  He grins sheepishly. “And then somehow, somewhere we fell in love, and somehow, you became my other half, and somehow, I can’t imagine a world without you. I don’t want to. You are my best friend, and you are the one person around whom I can be completely myself and face no judgements.”

  “No, I do judge you. You’re a little questionable.”

  “And what would I do without your wicked sense of humour?”

  “Honestly? You’d be lost without me. I mean, you forget to even put your socks in the washing machine.”

  “You’re not supposed to wash them. They go on your feet. Obviously.”

  “That is disgusting, and you know it.”

  He laughs. “I wanna be with you for the rest of my life, and I… I… I want a family with you, you know? I know that we’ve never talked about this, and I don’t know how you would feel about one, but still, if you’re up for it, I’m too. But, if you don’t, that’s okay, too. More than okay.”

  For a moment, an unrecognizable expression crosses her face, and he wonders if he’s hurt her. But then the biggest smile blooms on her face.

  “We should have talked about this. But I would like a family with you, too. I mean, I’ve never really wanted one, and you know why. But, after seeing you and your family, I realized that a part of me does want it. I do want to have the home that I never got to have with you and I wanna do better. I know that you’ll be an amazing dad, and I wanna raise my kid the way that kids should be raised. And I want it with no one else but you.”

  Owen feels as if he’s on cloud nine, and he stares at her for a moment, wondering how lucky he is to find a girl like her. He says, “Y/N, I –”

  Before he can ask her the question, though, her ringtone cuts through the silence of the empty classroom. She whispers an apology and takes her phone out from her jeans pocket.

  She accepts the call and speaks into the phone. “Hey, Luka, what’s up? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Luka, slow down.”

  She exchanges a panicked look with Owen.

  Speaking of Owen, he’s losing it. Absolutely. He was so close. And for the first time, he had both confidence and hope. And something had to happen. He starts to feel annoyed at Luka, his sister, and then immediately feels bad about it, but then starts to feel annoyed again.

  “Oh no, you did what? Do you need me to come?”

  At Y/N’s last sentence, Owen bursts out. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

  Y/N raises her brows at him. He feels anger replacing all his emotions, anger towards the world, it’s timings, and mostly, towards himself.

  Sensing his rage, Y/N gives him a weird look. “What is wrong with you?” She whispers.

  “Everything. Everything is wrong!” He whispers back.

  He starts to feel breathless, and the familiar sensation of a panic attack starts to overcome him. He looks around, trying to focus on something, anything, when he spots the door.

  He looks at his girlfriend, and says, “I love you, but I’m gonna lose it.” With that, he walks by her, and out the doors, while she yells after him.

+1.

    It’s been twenty minutes since he last talked to Y/N, and he has lost all hope. He’s now sitting on a park bench a couple of minutes away from the school, and he is listing all the reasons why his life is absolutely shit.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Owen looks up, and notices Y/N walking up to the bench, with a concerned look in her eyes.

  “I – I just… I’ve been trying to ask you something, Y/N, for the past month. And every time I try to do it, I’m either interrupted, or I’m not confident enough. And, today, there were no distractions, and I was finally feeling confident and hopeful and then my sister decides to ruin it – is she okay, by the way?”

  She nods and sits down beside him. “Yeah, she misplaced her dress for tonight.”

  He grits his teeth in annoyance. He loves her, but his sister has the worst timing.

  Y/N rests a hand on his, an odd look taking over her features. “You should know by now that the answer will always, and obviously be a yes.”

  Owen sharply turns towards her. “What?”

  A brilliant smile makes its way onto her face. “You are gonna propose, aren’t you?”

  A gasp involuntarily escapes him. “How’d you know?”

  “Well, you just said some pretty nice things about me. Also, I can see the outline of the ring box, and you keep checking your pocket for it every two minutes, even if you don’t realize it. You’re literally doing it right now.”

  In his defence, he wasn’t, or rather, isn’t consciously doing it. He slowly retracts his hand from his pocket and gives her a sheepish smile.

  She stands up. “Really, O, are you gonna do it or not –”

  “Yep, yep, yep.” He clears his throat and stands in front of her and drops to a knee. He takes the ring out, and flips open the box, and as the diamond’s reflected light dances across her face, Y/N gasps.

  “Oh my god, that’s gorgeous!”

  He grins. “I have great taste.”

  She smiles teasingly. “I know, baby.”

  “Will you ma–”

  “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

  “You didn’t even let me finish!”

  “Someone would’ve probably interrupted you and I couldn’t take the chance of you losing your shit again.”

  “You do have a point.”

  “I always do.”

  He slides the ring onto her finger, and she kneels in front of him to match their heights. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he wraps his around her waist, both desperate to be closer, closer, closer.

  “I love you so much.” He whispers into her hair, and she kisses his shoulder.

  “I love you. Forever.”

  She untangles herself from him, and as she kisses him, Owen realizes that he had no reason to be worried at all.

[MASTERLIST]

reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

[unbridgeabledistances]

a ✨drunk and clingy ian✨ one-shot

okay so we all know that saint patrick’s day is a very arbitrary and somewhat meaningless holiday (at least in the u.s. lol)- but we also know that the gallaghers are incredibly fucking irish, so i am using this as an excuse to write some drunk and clingy gallavich fluff (bc i think we all need it!! or at least i do!!!!)

hope y’all enjoy<3

--

Mickey and Ian came in the door from their final weed security run of a way-too-chilly and grey March afternoon, kicking the slush off of their lace-up boots in a tired but comfortable silence. Mickey had been fantasizing for a good part of the afternoon about his usual afternoon ritual of collapsing onto the couch with a cold beer in his hand, and taking a long lazy nap while shitty game shows played on the TV in the background— but unfortunately, Debbie had other plans. Or so he realized when he turned the corner and his eyes were met with a forest of green and white streamers blanketing the living room, with Debbie determinedly balancing on a kitchen chair to hang them in the doorway.

Mickey did a double-take, shooting a glance at Ian and then back at the festive room again. What the fuck? He quickly racked his brain— there was no way he’d could’ve forgotten Franny’s birthday, that was in the summer—and he was pretty sure that Liam’s birthday was in the winter sometime; so whose the fuck was it? Too many goddamn Gallaghers to keep track of. Finally, Mickey admitted his own defeat.

“Is it someone’s fuckin’ birthday or something?”

Mickey flashed another gaze to Ian in confusion as he said it, hoping that Ian would silently mouth whatever the occasion was to him, or at the very least raise his eyebrows and goad Mickey enough to jog his memory to remember whatever the fuck today was— but Ian just gave an easygoing grin as he took in the room’s decor and let out a laugh.

“Debbie, isn’t this kind of going overboard?”

Debbie looked over her shoulder from where she was now taping a crudely scribbled picture of a shamrock, most likely drawn by Franny, up onto the wall.

“What? If it’s our last Saint Patrick’s Day in the house, the least we can do is go out with a bang,” she answered nonchalantly, and continued fixating on hanging up Franny’s drawing.

Mickey inadvertently let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. Fucking Gallaghers.

“I’m sorry, fucking Saint Patrick’s Day?”

Ian’s lips formed a playful smile and he elbowed Mickey between the ribs. “Yeah, Mick, Saint Patrick’s Day— also known as the unironically most important day of the Gallagher family calendar year. I can’t believe I forgot it was today, with all the work stuff we had going on.”

At first Mickey couldn’t tell if Ian was actually being serious— but in the same second he decided that it didn’t really matter, since Ian’s eyes were bright and shining and there was this weird giddy grin he was sporting from ear to ear, like he was absolutely fucking delighted that it was Saint Patrick’s Day, instead of just a normal goddamn Wednesday. Fucking softie.

And as endearing as that was, Mickey still couldn’t let him off that easily. “There’s no way I’m celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day. It’s a fake holiday for yuppie rich kids to go bar hopping—I’m not getting involved in any of your Gallagher bullshit.”

Ian’s grin just grew, like he knew exactly what Mickey was doing. “Hey, you married into this family. If anything, this is your own fault.”

Mickey just rolled his eyes, then continued to unlace his boots and throw them by the doorway.

“The fuck do you do anyways, aside from getting trashed?”

Ian put a hand on Mickey’s upper back to steady himself as he pulled his own shoes off. “I think getting trashed pretty much sums up the festivities. Today’s practically a holy day of observance for Frank, and I’m assuming Debbie’s also just gonna use today as an excuse to get drunk on a Wednesday.”

“Hell yeah I am!” Debbie called from where she was putting the chair back in the kitchen.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I knew Gallaghers were white trash, but I had no idea you were this bad.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t have any Ukranian white trash holidays or whatever?”

Mickey held back a bitter laugh. Yeah, they had “holidays,” in the form of days when Terry was celebratorily drunk enough to leave them the fuck alone for 24 hours, rare occasions when his looming shadow was out of the house and a festive lightness bled in in its place. They sort of celebrated Christmas, which was mostly just associated with too many painful memories of Terry ripping open the presents before he or his brothers had the chance, and too many painful stings associated with him having one too many drinks as they sat quietly inside the sagging house and pretended to be a big happy family for one night a year.

But never anything as gaudy and deliberate and ridiculous as observing a C-list, Irish-American holiday just for the hell of it, just for fun—which yes, was probably fueled by Frank’s alcoholism more than anything else, but also made something swell in Mickey’s insides that he didn’t quite know how to place.

And Mickey didn’t know how to let out that entire internal monologue to Ian while Debbie was standing within earshot. “Nah, man. Milkoviches don’t really do… holidays.”

Ian snaked a hand around Mickey’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze, a grounding touch. He gets it.

“Well, get ready to have your mind blown, Mr. Gallavich, because we’re about to celebrate this hallowed occasion Gallagher style.”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, but let himself lean into Ian’s touch, lean his weight ever-so-slightly against Ian’s chest that was pressed behind him by the doorway. And, okay— as stupid as this was, maybe there was something sort of warm and solid about tradition, about hand-scribbled shamrocks and streamers on the wall, about having days to celebrate just because you wanted to, just because you could…

Just then Franny came hurdling into the room, wearing a baggy green t-shirt and a face-painted shamrock adorning her cheek.

Ian’s face lit up when she stopped in front of them. “Hey Franny! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”

Franny held out two bottles of beer to Ian and Mickey from where she had been hiding them behind her back.

“Mommy said I should give these to you when you came home!”

Mickey smirked, carefully taking the bottles from Franny’s outstretched hands. “Thanks, kiddo.”

And if all celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day took was knocking down a few beers on a weekday afternoon—well, Mickey wasn’t going to complain about that.

**

Of course, hours later Mickey realized how severely he’d underestimated Debbie’s enthusiasm— after lounging around the house waiting for the stream of Gallaghers to trickle in from their various daily activities, Debbie had rounded everyone up and they migrated to the Alibi as the sun was setting, where they’d met up with Kev and V and Lip and Tami, who (thank fucking god) looked as vaguely confused and fully apathetic about this whole “Saint Patrick’s Day” situation as Mickey did.

Now it was late, and Mickey was leaning against the bartop of the Alibi sipping a thick, foamy glass of Guinness, which was as close to embracing whatever-the-fuck Irish heritage his husband had as he was possibly going to get.

All of the Gallaghers were here, swirling around the room—Debbie had put on some sort of peppy music as Kev poured everyone drinks, and a couple of other Southside neighbors had heard the bass thrumming and joined the ruckus. The room wasn’t too crowded, but it was pleasantly full of bodies and chatter— Kev had bought bunches of shiny, tacky green mardi gras beads for everyone to wear, and the air in the room was festive and bordering on sloppy in a way that felt very different from how Mickey had envisioned this evening would go.

Mickey was pacing himself, because it was a Wednesday for fuck’s sake— but his husband was an entirely different story. Between the beers at home and the various drinks Debbie had been siphoning into his hands all night, Ian was teetering on the drunkest Mickey had seen him in years—which partially made the tiniest spark of trepidation start to creep into Mickey’s bloodstream, a spark that he immediately extinguished. It was one night, the first in a long time— Ian deserved to have some fun.

And he definitely, definitely was having fun— casually dancing with Debbie and Sandy and whoever else would humor him, grinning with red-hot cheeks and bright eyes— from across the room Mickey could tell how warm his skin would be if he pressed a hand against it, how flushed. Mickey wasn’t really in the mood for dancing, or whatever the fuck stumbling around and chatting and making friends Drunk Ian was up to for the evening, and he was perfectly content to nurse his drink at the bar— which is why it surprised him when Ian pulled himself out of the crowd, slightly stumbling over his own feet, and made the way across the room to where Mickey was leaning at the bar, immediately boxing him in and putting his hands square on Mickey’s waist. Mickey almost imperceptibly let in a sharp breath.

Ian looked down at him, all smiles and shiny eyes— when he spoke the scent of sweet, hot liquor danced on Mickey’s face and all he wanted was to be closer, to breathe it in.

“Are you having fun?” Ian’s right hand traced up Mickey’s side, then back down to its hold on his hipbone.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You and your leprechaun family don’t mess around, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled a lazy, tipsy smile, and pecked Mickey’s cheek before Mickey could be embarrassed about it.

“D’you wanna dance with me?”

Ian’s hands slid off of his hips and entangled with Mickey’s hands that had been hanging limply at his sides, walking backwards so their fingers were laced together an arm’s distance apart.

Mickey shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll leave showing the Irish pride to you and the rest of the drunken Gallaghers.”

Ian registered Mickey’s words and opened his mouth to reply, just as Debbie pulled Ian over by the arm.

“Stop sulking with Mickey and do more shots with me!”

Jesus Christ. Ian was going to be wrecked when their alarm went off for work in the morning, and Mickey was starting to debate if he was going to need to have a talking-to with Debbie about the appropriate amount of “Saint Patrick’s Day fun” they were allowed to partake in next year— but for now Ian was happy, and he could stomach one night of hardcore festivities.

Mickey stood at the bar for a while, watching Ian and Debbie get progressively more flushed as they bobbed through the crowd— and then, when Debbie had found some other victim in their mid-twenties to get even more shitfaced with, Ian made his way across the room to Mickey again, plopping onto the barstool beside him and heaving his bodyweight onto Mickey’s left side, burying his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey wrapped a tentative arm around Ian’s waist, trying to hold him up from slouching off of the barstool.

“M’tired.” Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath dancing on his collarbone as he slurred out the words, and felt Ian’s eyelids flutter shut against the side of his neck.

Ian was always giving Mickey measured casual touches, wherever they were—but it was so exceedingly rare that Ian fully let himself go like this, let himself be drunk and happy and just crumple into Mickey, without worrying about holding anyone else up. It felt new, but it felt good— Mickey let the solid weight of his husband’s body leaning against his press him down, rooting him into the Alibi’s sticky floors, feeling the clammy skin of Ian’s forehead that was solidly lodged into the side of Mickey’s neck.

He hated to admit it, but in that moment, something in Mickey was also frozen solid— as much as Mickey had grown in the past few years, something about these situations, about PDA or whatever, still made Mickey feel like he was treading water—like he was fighting to stay afloat while everyone’s eyes were on him, and the strong current was only lifted when he and Ian were in the dark safety of their bedroom. If Mickey was drunk at a bar and sloppily leaning onto Ian, there was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that Ian would hold him, would gingerly touch him and caress him and do more to him than just prop him up— but something in Mickey still hesitated and flashed with warning signs in a crowded room full of people.

But Ian was still breathing hot on Mickey’s neck— so Mickey thought about what Ian would do, if it was Mickey who was tipsy and slumped on his shoulder. He tentatively raised his arm from where it was lying limply by his side, and started to run soothing circles onto Ian’s t-shirt, just above his hipbone where Mickey’s hand was holding Ian up by his waist.

Ian hummed in acknowledgement of the touch— and then he pressed a tender kiss to the crook of Mickey’s neck, where his face was buried. Fuck. Mickey just pulled him in closer, gently tugging Ian’s torso in by his belt loop to hold him steady.

Ian hummed again, then started to press kisses up and down Mickey’s neck. “You smell good.”

Mickey’s heart started to beat a little quicker, his blood running hotter than usual—and Ian couldn’t fucking do this now, while the rest of his family was milling around and dancing and wearing fucking mardi gras beads while flaunting their Gallagher pride.

Ian lifted his forehead off of Mickey’s shoulder, and gently bit at the underside of Mickey’s jaw—and Mickey thought he was going to combust right there, on the spot, in a room full of Gallaghers pressed against the bartop at the Alibi by his very drunk husband.

And in an act of excruciatingly inconvenient timing, Lip sidled up to the bar and sat on the barstool on Mickey’s other side, nursing what Mickey assumed (and hoped) was a diet Coke in a beer glass.

“Hey there, Mick. And, uh, Ian.”

Ian looked up from where he was very engrossed in continuing to nuzzle the opposite side of Mickey’s neck, and glared at Lip from across Mickey’s chest.

“Go away, Lip.” Ian collapsed his head back onto Mickey’s shoulder and closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s neck like a fucking boa constrictor. Mickey snaked an arm up around Ian’s back, holding him steady on the wobbly barstool.

Lip held back a laugh as he sipped his drink, then took a drag of the cigarette he was holding. “Seems like Ian’s done enough drinking to make our ancestors proud.”

Mickey took a sip of his own beer with his free hand. “Debbie made sure of that.”

Lip raised his eyebrows. “Damn. Guess we’d better keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t also have the Frank gene.”

Mickey grunted in acknowledgement, then took another sip of his beer, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. Ian’s head shifted slightly on his shoulder— and Mickey realized he probably needed to haul Ian home ASAP, before he was even more sleepy and incoherent and unable to lug down the street.

Lip noticed Ian’s movement on Mickey’s shoulder and smirked. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen Ian being this clingy before. Even with other guys—no offense, Mick— he usually stayed pretty contained. And you guys aren’t usually too into the PDA department.”

Mickey shrugged, trying not to jostle the heavy weight of where Ian’s head was hanging. Lip was right—he and Ian never really were all over each other, especially not like this, outside of the context of their room, when they were very much always all over each other.

Lip kept studying them, and the corner of his mouth eventually ticked upward. “It’s good. He’s definitely not this… comfortable with anyone else. Including me, which is definitely saying something.”

It felt weird, to get something like what felt like Lip’s full blessing at a raunchy Gallagher party months after he and Ian had gotten married—but that was also exactly what it felt like was happening.

Lip’s eyes suddenly darted across the room, to where Tami was holding up his coat and gesturing to the door. Lip rose from the barstool, stubbed out his cigarette, and put out a hand to clap Mickey on the shoulder as a goodbye.

“Catch up with you later, Mick.” Lip reached out and jokingly tousled Ian’s hair. “Make sure this one doesn’t hate himself too much tomorrow morning.”

Mickey smirked. Ian was practically asleep and drooling on his shoulder, his breathing turned steady—Mickey reached a hand up to card through his hair, then gently shrugged his shoulder to get Ian’s head to rise from where it was jammed on his neck.

Ian raised his head, his eyes bleary and confused at first, then softening around the edges when he met Mickey’s gaze.

“Alright, let’s get you home, carrottop.”

[weelittleweasley]

A Cup of Tea | Draco x Reader

Prompt as requested by anon: hii ! I’m in love with ur writing! anyways could you do one where reader meets Draco’s mom & Narcissa absolutely loves her ? And like her embarrassing draco & stuff like that ? Just thought it would be cute 🥺

Warnings: lots of fluff

A/N: I’m so glad to see that people are enjoying my writing again! Feels good to be writing again! I forgot how much I love to write for y’all! Enjoy the imagine and have a happy Monday!!

Flashbacks are told in italics!

Lacing your boots up, you sit on the edge your bed as your hair falls in front of your face. You tuck your hair behind your ears, rising from the bed and looking at yourself in the mirror in front of you. Sucking in a deep breath through your nose and out of your mouth, you inspect yourself. The black wrap dress clung to your figure nicely and your hair framed your face nicely. Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, you grab your bag and jacket, trying not to thinking about the tight feeling in your chest as you prepped to meet your boyfriend’s mother for the first time. 

A week prior, you and Draco sat in his dormitory as you worked quietly at his desk on your homework. Draco laid on his bed, tossing a ball up and down, remaining silent with little sighs here and there. The silence was comfortable as Draco patiently waited for you to finish your work before you could give your full attention. Maybe patiently waiting was a little too generous...

“Darling, you must be nearly done. You’ve been at that desk for hours,” Draco groans, sitting up, watching you scribble into your notebook alongside a slew of textbooks.

Without shifting your gaze, you reply, “I’m almost done. Please give me five more minutes, love.”

He groans and falls melodramatically back on his bed, continuing to throw the ball up and down. You take a few more moment writing some last notes from this night’s reading into your book before shutting the books closed and turning around in your chair. You look at the boy who lays on his bed, huffing about how stupid it was that he has been waiting for hours when in reality it was an hour and a half at most he was waiting for you to finish. “Are you done with your antics, Malfoy?” you ask him, a teasing smile dancing on your glossy lips. 

Draco sits straight up and a cheeky smile finds its way to his mouth. “At last,” he breathes out as you walk over to him and he wastes absolutely no time throwing his ball to the other side of his room, pulling you into his lap, your usual seat. You allow a few small giggles to slip out of your mouth as he pulls you in, burying your face into the crook of his neck, breathing his scent in deeply. He smelled like cologne and apples. A pleasant combination to your senses. Draco places a small kiss to your temple before laying down on the bed, causing you to straddle him on his bed. “Best seat in the house,” he jokes, looking up at you. You looked like a vision; a toothy grin on your face, wispy hair falling front of your eyes as you brush it out of your view, your Hogwarts uniform hugging you in every place perfectly. He never knew how sexy that god awful uniform could look on someone. 

You two remain in this position for a little while, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your hip bones, as you brush the white blonde hair on his head with your fingers. Cupping his cheek with one of your hands, you stroke it with your thumb before he turns his head and places a gentle kiss to your palm. Draco was putty under your touch. The boy would do anything you asked him to. He lived to make you happy, to make you feel special, to make you feel loved. If you asked him for the world, he would give it to you with the moon and the stars. You wished that other people could see this soft side of Draco, but at the same time, you loved that it was a little secret between the two of you. Only you got to see how gentle and kind he was; how thoughtful he could be. “Dray?” you ask as he hums in response, lacing your fingers with his, him gently kissing your knuckles individually. “What do you think our future holds?” 

“Well, we’ll be married, of course,” Draco does not hesitate to answer this question, which brought you comfort. Draco talked nearly all the time about how much he wanted to make you his wife. If you weren’t still in school, he’d be down on one knee right now, proposing that you spend the rest of your lives with each other. “We can move into the manor with my parents,” he starts, watching him play with your hands, looking at the lines on your palms. This part of his proposition made you a little uneasy. Rather than living with Draco’s parents, you’d rather find a place of your own, away from all the madness of the Malfoy’s. You loved Draco, no question, but you didn’t know if you would love living with his parents. Speaking of which, of who you have not met yet. Well, technically you have met his father, but you would rather not chose to remember that awkward encounter. You smiling wide at him as Lucius looked at you with disgust, saying that his son was not dating any girl after you introduced yourself as Draco’s girlfriend. With that, he kept walking down the halls of Hogwarts, leaving you feeling quite embarrassed. “Something wrong?” Draco asks, propping himself up on his elbows, sitting halfway up. He noticed the tension in your shoulders when he brought up living with his parents.

Shaking your head back and forth, you reply, “No, I’m alright. Keep talking.” You press a small kiss to his lips trying to encourage him to keep talking about your future together. As you pull away, Draco has a look on his face that screams I’m not buying it. “Really, darling, I’m alright. Continue,” you push his shoulders, jokingly making him smirk. Draco thinks for a moment before his eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Oh no,” your smile drops. “I know that face and I don’t like where this is going already.”

Draco laughs and sits up straight so your chests are now touching. “I want you to meet my mother,” he confesses and your heart stops beating for a moment. Your mouth goes dry and you try to keep yourself composed as to not alarm Draco. “I know the two of you will get on like a house on fire. You’ll come to the manor with me next week on holiday, won’t you?” he asks, his eyes pleading you to say yes. His blue eyes bore into you. Merlin, how were you supposed to say no. Feigning excitement, you nod your head up and down with a small hum. He chuckles, “Brilliant. I’ll send an owl and tell mother she should expect a very special guest.” Draco closes the gap between you two, pressing a hard kiss to your lips, showing you how thankful he was that the two most important women in his life would be meeting. You on the other hand, were absolutely horrified. 

Now, here you were, bag and jacket in hand, making your way to Draco’s dormitory, your heart pounding out of your chest. It’s not that you didn’t want to meet Draco’s mother, you were just scared that you wouldn’t live up to her expectations. The Malfoy’s were one of, if not, the most powerful family of wizards. They had money, status, wealth, and power; something some people can only dream of, but something you were scared of. You and Draco came from two completely different backgrounds. You were not a pureblood Slytherin and you knew that this may pose a problem, considering how passionate Narcissa Malfoy was about having a pureblood line.Your parents were both wizards, your father was a Ravenclaw, mother a Slytherin. Of course, when you got to Hogwarts, you took after your mother, the sorting hat calling out Slytherin before the hat even touched your head, making you smile wide. Your parents weren’t very wealthy, money wasn’t something you had excess of. They had made you get a summer job alongside muggles, they insisted that teaching you the value of money at a young age would instill good habits in you. But now that you were taken by a Malfoy, money was never really a problem. If you even mentioned in passing that you wanted or needed something, it would be on your bed the next day with a love note from Draco. But still, you weren’t raised like that and the idea of spending money frivolously made your nerves act up. 

Your thoughts are halted when you arrive at Draco’s door, tapping gently on his door. In two seconds, the door swings open to reveal a smiling Draco. He looks handsome, black turtleneck and blazer, freshly pressed trousers, and shiny black leather shoes. Draco looks you up and down and his smile grows wider if possible. “Perfect,” he coos before grabbing your waist and kissing you sweetly. He always knew what to say. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, nervously straightening out the pleats in your dress. 

Draco closes his door behind him and takes your hand in his, making your way to the outside of the castle. “Oh, don’t worry. Mother will adore you. I just know it,” he squeezes your hand. “And if she doesn’t, too bad because I love you.” You give him a weak smile and kiss his cheek. At least you knew that Draco would be at your defense if all else fails. 

The trip to the Wiltshire was smooth, but you were anything but. Thoughts circled your head constantly. What if she knows I’m not a pure blood Slytherin? What if she thinks I’m dressed inappropriately? What if she heard from Lucius that he thinks I’m a stupid git? What if she takes one look at me tells me to leave? But these thoughts didn’t help the time move slower. 

And there you were, standing in front of Malfoy Manor, Draco’s fingers laced with yours, you holding his arm for extra support. You bit your lip nervously, scanning Draco’s face, looking for any hesitation. If he told you that he changed his mind, you would not hesitate leaving the manor right now. But it’s far too late when Draco has knocked on the large door in front of him. “You’ll be brilliant,” Draco tells you, kissing your nose.

Before you can open up your mouth to respond, the large door swings open to reveal Narcissa Malfoy. You expected someone else to open the door, but no, there she was in her full glory. Narcissa was more beautiful than you could ever expect. Brown hair pulled in an updo, while the platinum blonde that matched Draco’s fell on her shoulders perfectly. She wore a dark green snakeskin jacket that fell to the floor with a luxurious silk black dress and black leather boots. “There’s my boy,” she smiles, opening her arms to which Draco entered, hugging his mother tightly. Your nervousness subsided slightly as you watched the boy you loved give his mother a warm embrace. “I’ve missed you dearly,” she whispers in her son’s ear, giving him a kiss on the top of his head. 

They break their embrace before Draco steps to the side and says, “Mother, this is (Y/N). She’s my girlfriend. (Y/N), this is my mother.” After he says that, his eyes dart back and forth between his mother and you. He’s so nervous of who will speak first, how she will react to you, how you will react to her. He just wants the two women he loves to get along. 

Gulping hard, you decide to speak first. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy. Draco has told me so much about you,” you offer her the warmest smile you could ever produce and extend a hand out to shake hers. 

Narcissa laughs and pushes your hand away. Your heart stops. She hates me already. It hasn’t even been five minutes and she wants me dead. “Don’t be silly, (Y/N). Call me Narcissa,” she speaks and immediately wraps you in a hug, squeezing you so tight. Your eyes widen as you look at Draco whilst hugging his mother. You have never seen Draco smile this big before in his life. His happiness makes you happy as you hug his mother back tightly. She pulls away, holding you back at arm’s length to take a good look at you. “Draco, you did not do Miss (Y/N) justice in describing her. She is even more beautiful than I could ever imagine,” she looks at her son with a smile. Draco smiles wide as you thank her for the compliment. “You two must be cold and hungry from the trip here. Please, come in, I have a kettle on the stove and biscuits.”

Draco leads you into the manor, you look around, taking its in stunning architecture and decor. The manor was decorated with ornate pieces in emerald green, blacks, and greys. The staple color palette of Slytherins. “Your home is beautiful, Narcissa,” you compliment.

“Thank you, darling,” she coos as she walks you and Draco into the main dining room, a long black marble table stretched from one end of the room to the other. Three place settings are at one end, green and silver tea cups and saucers sit beautifully on the table with plates of biscuits, sweets, and other foods. “This house has been in the Malfoy family for generations. It all started with Armand Malfoy who-”

“Mother, please,” Draco whines, knowing that this story would last for ages if his girlfriend let his mother tell the entirety of the story. 

Narcissa rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry, Draco doesn’t like my storytelling. He thinks I make the story longer than I need it to be,” Narcissa looks at her son, eyebrows raised giving him a knowing look as Draco mockingly laughs at her. “I think I tell stories just fine.”

You decide to add a little wood on the fire and tease Draco right back. “He does the same with me. I cannot possibly tell him a story of my day when he gets bored the moment I open my mouth. Not to mention, he is the one who asked for the story in the first place!” you tease, causing Draco to look at you, feigning offense. 

His mother laughs brightly, throwing her head back. “Yes! Exactly! Oh, Draco, I’m so glad you brought home a lady who has a sense of humor. Come, (Y/N), follow me in the kitchen. I’ll tell you the story of the Manor whilst Draco waits out here for the tea to finish steeping,” Narcissa links your arms together and every single bit of nervousness and fear melts away in that moment. “Draco, dear, get napkins for us,” she instructs before whisking you away into the kitchen, asking what tea preference you have. 

Hours have past, and here you were sitting at the Malfoy’s dining room table, tears in your eyes from laughing alongside Narcissa. She has now pulled out Draco’s baby book, pointing out pictures of the young child in the bathtub, soap sudds all over his head, naked little body in the shallow water. “He was two and a half here. He had just come back from a walk in the garden and he was covered in mud. The poor child had fallen into a puddle and was crying that he got dirty and demanded a bath,” Narcissa recalls the happy memory as Draco groans and leans back in his chair as you gaze upon the sweet photo. 

“Aw, come on, Draco, you look adorable,” you coo as your fingers delicately touch the image pasted onto the parchment of the baby book. Draco shoots you a menacing glare as you giggle, flipping to the next page. 

The day was going so smoothly. Narcissa asked you about school, your passions, how you and Draco fell in love...she wanted to know everything about you. She was so kind, it reminded you of how kind Draco could be. He had obviously inherited that from his mother and not his father. You were shocked. How could someone so lovely be married to someone so cruel? 

Wiping the tear from the corner of her eye, Narcissa closes the baby book. “Alright, I think Draco has had enough teasing for today,” she says as Draco huffs a finally. “Darling, could you go bring the teacups into the kitchen please?” she asks Draco as he happily obliges. “So, tell me, (Y/N),” she starts when Draco leaves the dining room. “And tell me honestly, where do you see this relationship with Draco going? Is there a future?” she asks, her hands finding yours, giving them a light squeeze, hoping that the answer is yes.

Now this was something you could talk about. “Narcissa, I love your son more than the sun loves the moon. He’s my everything,” you confess to her, making a grin appear on her face. “He makes me the happiest I have ever been,” you tell her simply.

“We do intend on getting married, Mother,” Draco interrupts the conversation as you and Narcissa shoot him a look, letting him know that he ruined the sweet moment between the two women. “Was I not supposed to say that?”

You laugh and shake your head, “You’re fine, darling. But yes, we do plan on getting married immediately after we done with school.” 

This makes Narcissa just beam with joy. “Thank Merlin,” she places a hand over her heart. “I was hoping you would say that. I didn’t want someone like Pansy Parkinson marrying my son,” she tells you, causing you to look at Draco as you two both laugh. “Well, just so you know (Y/N), you know that you are welcome to move in here with myself, Draco, and my husband after you finish your education. This home is also your home. Not to mention, I would love another lady in the house,” she tells you with a wink.

Her offer makes your heart glow. When Draco proposed this a week ago, your nerves set in and made you worry. But now thinking about living in the manor with Draco and his wonderful mother only made your heart swell with love and adoration. “Thank you, Narcissa, from the bottom of my heart. It means the world to me that you would open your home to someone like me,” you tell her.

Narcissa furrows her brows and realizes what you were talking about. “Just because you aren’t pureblood Slytherin doesn’t make you any less of a wonderful woman and witch. My son loves you which only makes me love you even more,” she tells you before stroking your cheek with her finger. Her gesture makes you tear up a little bit. This woman radiated kindness and you didn’t understand how you were so lucky to love a boy who had the most incredible woman as a mother. 

Draco looks upon the two of you and his heart could not be more full. His mother loved you as if you were her own and he could only imagine how happy that made you. Draco watched the two women he loved have their own moment, a smile plastered on his face. “I hate to do this, but we should really be heading back to school. I have a quidditch match tomorrow and need to rest up for it,” Draco speaks. 

“Oh, of course, darling,” Narcissa speaks as the three of you rise from the table. “You know you are always welcome to come home whenever you please. No need to let me know when you are coming. The doors are always open,” Narcissa tells you both. She walks you both to the door and you have to admit, you were a little sad to leave. There was still so much to talk about. Narcissa looks at you and smiles sweetly. “It was so lovely to finally meet you, (Y/N).”

You take Narcissa’s hands and give them a squeeze. “Same to you. You are so lovely, today was wonderful,” you admit as she scoops you into an embrace. “I’m sure we will see each other again soon.”

Narcissa gives you a sweet smile and tells you to send an owl if you were in need of anything. She then looks to her son and cups his cheeks, looking him in the eyes with so much love. She places a tender kiss on his forehead before giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, Mother,” Draco holds his mother in his arms for a long while and you swear you can hear a small sob escape from Narcissa’s lips. She loved this boy so much, it seems like she would break. “I’ll be home for Christmas. Maybe (Y/N) can spend some time with us,” he offers as you shake your head excitedly. You can only imagine how beautifully the Manor would be decorated for the holidays. 

The two of you leave the Manor, hand in hand as Narcissa waves goodbye and blows a kiss before shutting the door. You look at Draco and he just laughs. “What?” you ask, slapping his arm. “What’s so funny, you bloody idiot?”

“I think my Mother loves you more than she loves me,” he laughs as you roll your eyes. 

“I’m starting to like your mother more than I like you,” you joke as he acts hurt. “Kidding,” you laugh as you kiss him sweetly. “Maybe.”

[dianapana]

SH Day 9 – Never Have I Ever

@sasuhinamonth

Rated T, Modern AU, OOC

Oof , for this one ideas just wouldn't come to me, so once again I looked through older stories I never finished and found this one which I thought fit to a certain degree. I didn’t really wanna go the normal route of the game itself, so I just interpreted the prompt as a new experience. I hope you enjoy, ~Love, Dia

It wasn’t uncommon for people to randomly sit down at his table, especially if those people were girls. They’d stumble onto the seat and act like it was all an accident, like they didn’t see him and thought the table was empty, or that they tripped and ‘landed’ on the seat. Other times they’d ask if they could sit because there were no free tables anymore, granted this last excuse happened to be true once or twice, but usually, it was just a lie and the two would sit in awkward silence for a few moments staring at each other with a number of empty seats all around.

However, the person sitting across from him was a girl he saw around the diner quite often, urgency written all over her face. Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her, but the situation didn’t faze him at all, thus he continued eating, putting 2 French fries in his mouth and slowly chewing, waiting for her to state her reason and purpose.

“I need you to pretend we’re here together” Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her. “My ex just walked in and I’m not in the mood to deal with him. If I’m here with someone, in this case you, he’ll either leave me alone or he’ll at least leave sooner.” His eyes moved to a guy that was just walking to the counter still obvious to his ex-girlfriend. “Please…” her eyes were begging him to help.

Sasuke sighed and pushed his milkshake her way. “It’d be strange if we were here together and I was the only one that had ordered something” Her pale eyes lit up like Christmas trees.

“Thank you so much. I’m Hinata by the way” She gave him a genuine smile. He nodded her way.

“Sasuke. I’d shake your hand but that would look strange since we’re supposed to be here together.”

For a second, silence fell over their table but Hinata started giggling at what he just said, her laugh could have also been intertwined with nervous laughter for it was a little too loud for Sasuke’s own liking, either way, he couldn’t help but smirk her. Naruto would freak if he saw Sasuke talking to a stranger, a girl no less, and not only that, but he was actually putting in the effort to help her and maintain a conversation. He had never willingly had a conversation with a stranger before.

Sadly Hinata’ sudden laughing fit turned the attention of a white-haired guy, also known in Sasuke’s head as the girl’s ex, to them. The said guy looked their way, moment in which Sasuke noticed the myriad of feelings showing onto his expression, he seemed to go from hopeful to confused to slightly irritated and then settle for putting on a fake smile and strolling their way.

“Hinata, long time no see, how are you?” The ex-boyfriend looked at her and gave Sasuke a not-so-subtle glare. He took in their table before raising an eyebrow and immediately asking another question, essentially cutting Hinata off before she could answer his first question. “Matcha milkshake? I thought you hated those”

“Oh, I used to yea, but I think they changed the receipt here. I tasted one sip from when Sasuke ordered one last time and it was pretty good, so today I wanted to see for myself” She said smoothly and took a big sip of her, well…his milkshake. “And I’ve been pretty good. How about yourself?” She smiled way too sweetly at him.

“Uh…can’t complain” He took another second to examine them again. “Well, I was actually thinking maybe we can get together and have dinner sometime next week?”

“Dude, you don’t ask out a girl when she’s already out with another guy, that’s just fucking messed up” Sasuke said, without actually meaning to his voice got deeper and he glared at the ‘ex-boyfriend’. He didn’t care that he and Hinata weren’t there together for real, it’s a universal rule you don’t ask out a girl if she’s there with a date, that’s just a douchey move.

Hinata was grinning at him from behind her hand, her eyes glittering with amusement. Sasuke had to admit something to himself, the strange girl was pretty, but she was even more beautiful while she smiled.

“Chill dude. I didn’t think this was a date” he said raising his hands as if trying to say he meant no harm. “I mean who the fuck brings a date at this shitty diner” He whispered under his breath, but both Hinata and Sasuke heard him and their moods turned pretty dark. Sasuke’s instinct was the punch the guy’s lights out, another new feeling he hadn’t experienced, at least not because of a girl. He is usually in control of his emotions and rarely loses his cool.

“Sasuke wanted to go have a sweet picnic in the park near my house, which was so thoughtful and sweet, but sadly the weather didn’t agree with him because it started raining. That’s when I remembered how I wanted to taste the milkshake, so I proposed we came here to wait for the rain to stop.” Sasuke had to admit, her lying skills were top-notch, her story had a natural flow to it, she composed a strong and believable narrative with pretty much no holes, her delivery too added to its credibility, fot she spoke with such ease. Hinata reached for his hand that was on the table and squeezed it while spreading her web of lies. Sasuke noticed the ex-boyf rolling his eyes, and a part of him felt utter satisfaction from the jerk’s annoyance.

“Whatever. I gotta bounce anyway. See you around” He turned and started walking out the diner without waiting for a reply. Sasuke snorted when he noticed that the ex didn’t even purchase anything. He was lost in his own world of trash-talking the guy but was got distracted by the petite girl in front of him that whispered not so quietly “I fucking hope not.”

“Well, that was fun.” He smirked at her. “Let me guess, bad break-up?” Hinata sighed and ran both hands over her face.

“The worst. It was a set up and we went on a few dates which were fine I guess, but I just didn’t really want a relationship at the time, or at least not with him. Either way, the break-up itself took like 3 hours cuz he just wouldn’t accept it.” She took another sip of his milkshake and gaged. “Oh god, I forgot how awful this tasted.” She said more to herself, it didn’t take her a full second to turn beet-red.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry this is yours. I d-didn’t mean to drink from it, it just happened. Let me buy you a new one” She got onto her feet but Sasuke grabbed her wrist and forced her to sit back down.

“Don’t worry about it. You barely drank any”

Had he been in his right mind he’d tell the girl to buy him extra fries too for the trouble and then he’d tell her to scramble. But for some reason or another, he didn’t want her to leave just yet. He pulled the glass back to him and drank from it just to prove to her everything was fine.

“I don’t understand how you can drink that. It’s not even sweet” Her nose wrinkled in disgust, Sasuke didn’t throw the world ‘cute’ around easily but she looked adorable.

“I hate sweets. So, this is perfect” Her jaw dropped, she looked like he had just said he hated puppies and his mother. Hinata blinked a few times, closed her mouth and opened it to say something, closed it back again. She looked genuinely confused, like someone that hated sweets wasn’t meant to exist.

“I-I don’t understand. How can you hate sweets? T-They make the world a better place. Don’t tell me that after a shitty day you don’t go home to eat a gallon of ice cream with a dozen of cookies because I will not believe you”

Now it was his turn to gag just thinking about the amount of sugar in the ‘snack’ she described. His reaction repulsed her.

“Oh wow. I’m perplexed. I had no idea people like you existed”

The fact that she said it with straight face made him believe she honestly didn’t think that what he said could be true, which for some reason he found extremely funny.

“Huh, you learn something every day.” She said with a smile, it seemed she had gotten over her confusion and found the whole conversation quite as amusing as he did.

A waitress came over to take Sasuke’s now empty milkshake glass.

“Would you like anything else?”

“Could you please bring me a veggie burger and a blueberry lemonade? And some fries too” She ordered and it relieved him that she did, he hadn’t had a lunch companion besides Naruto in a while.

“I’d also like some fries and another matcha milkshake”

“I’ll be right back,” The older woman said and left right away. When he turned back to the girl before him, she was staring at him with a small smile on her lips so he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I was sure you’d tell me to leave, or tell the waiter you’d like the bill and left yourself.” She put both of her hands on the table and played with her bracelet. “I’ve seen you around the diner. You’re not the…most welcoming face here and I’ve also saw you get up and leave on multiple occasions when someone sat at your table”

Her cheeks were a shade or two darker and she didn’t look at him but rather looked at her fidgeting hands. She was embarrassed for admitting she noticed him way before this encounter, she was nervous that she had crossed a line. What she said was true, he knew he wasn’t the nicest person but he did genuinely enjoy her presence, also he’d been in a number of situations where he would have liked someone to pretend to be there with him so he’d escape an acquaintance or a fangirl. Plus, the very same day Naruto told him he should do an act of ‘kindness’ a day or his karma would turn bad. He didn’t believe in the nonsense his blonde friend talked about, but when she sat down she looked in so much distress even he didn’t have the heart to tell her to leave.

“You’re right, But, you looked frightened, I’m not heartless,” He said in a neutral voice and Hinata blushed even redder. His lips twitched upward. Where did her confidence and acting skills go?

“I-I-I didn’t mean you are heartless…just…umm, uh” she was at a loss of words.

“It’s fine. You didn’t offend me” Hinata looked up at him relived.

“I didn’t? Oh, that’s really good, because I didn’t mean anything rude by what I said” her shoulders relaxed and her blush faded, not completely she was still a bit flushed but not quite as red as before.

“Since you knew there was a chance, I’d leave why did you sit here?”

Her smile softened a little. “Have you ever seen a person and had the urge to talk to them? For them to be your friend? I don’t mean to sound creepy, but every time I saw you here, I always wanted to talk to you, I just never had the courage. I guess the situation gave me the opportunity to do so. And I’m quite glad because, I don’t know about you, but I’m having a pretty good time talking to you” her cheeks flared even redder with each confession, for some reason admitting her thoughts in front of him was embarrassing. “Oh, just so you know, I’ve never done this before. I just had a pretty bad day and didn’t want it to get worse by having to be in his company for long.”

Their talk continued for a while longer until finally, their food arrived. The older waitress placed their orders on the table.

“There you go. Enjoy your food”

“Thank you” Hinata nodded at the waitress with a smile.

“I have one more question.” Sasuke said as Hinata took a sip of her lemonade, but gestured with her hand for him to go on. “What happened? When he was here you were a very smooth talker, but when you thought you offended me you seemed to be drowning in your own words”

Her blush came back and Sasuke decided he quite liked how she looked with it. She played with the tips of her hair, rolling it onto her finger. “W-when I was little, I was extremely shy, I couldn’t even look at strangers, my parents entered me in acting classes in hopes that I’d get over it. It didn’t really go as planned. I’m a lot better now, obviously but I still get anxious easily. Even so the acting classes did help me, when I’m in a crisis I seem to calm down and I’m able to collect my thoughts” She looked a bit over his shoulder in deep thought. “It’s like a defence mechanism but it doesn’t always work. Case in point when I o-offended you, which I’m sorry about again”

“I see…also you didn’t offend me, I told you this before. You only stated your opinion, which was true by the way”

She smiled at him once more and they started eating, it wasn’t complete silence, they made small talk asked about normal things, hobbies, friends, school and all that. Once they were finished and Sasuke asked for the bill since it was getting pretty dark and the rain finally stopped, he noticed her playing with the bracelet again.

“Something wrong?”

“Huh?” she looked up at him confused.

“You were fidgeting your hands like you did before when you were nervous. Is something bothering you?”

Hinata opened her mouth. They had spent about 2 or 3 hours together and he was able to pick up some of her habits already. He did seem like the type of person that paid attention, he was quiet but observing. Without meaning to she associated him with one of those old people from the park that sit on a bench and watch everyone pass by, like they don’t belong to this world, they just witness it, they are watchers that see the smallest details.

He didn’t know what she was thinking about, but her smile was beautifully tragic, she seemed sad, or at least contemplative.

“I was just thinking how much I enjoyed our…lunch? Dinner? And was wondering how awkward it would be to…a-ask for your number m-maybe?”

He also liked when she stuttered a little. “I don’t see why not. I enjoyed myself as well”

If only Naruto saw him give his number to a girl, the blonde would never let this slide, which was also why he’d never tell his blonde best friend about the petite blue-haired girl that made his ordinary day a little bit extraordinary, she proved that sometimes doing things you’ve never done can have a good end result, in this case talking to a stranger and pretending to date led to a pleasant evening and hopefully a friend and maybe more.