#this is why i just have been spending my time writing giffing and knitting

[hochsleep]

Relationship with Daryl Dixon (headcanons)

This is my first experience writing headcanons, but I have a lot to say! And yes, I used a gif from Beth, but we don't support that pairing here, guys.....

Also, thanks to the author of the gif!

Pronouns: she/her (fem!reader) / (I'll do headcanons for Daryl's relationship for gender-neutral readers later on)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon/fem!reader (Y/N)

Warnings: no, not this time. Everything is decent (underage readers can read)

• Daryl Dixon is far from stupid. I mean, he can certainly tell the difference between romantic interest and friendly sympathy. He has Carol, his best friend, and he knows that he feels for her the kind of platonic friendly love he usually feels for a family member. But that's not the case with you. Sure, you've most likely known Daryl for a long time (assuming you joined Rick's group at any point from Atlanta to Prison, can pick at your discretion). So since you've known each other for a while, Daryl has had time to realize that his feelings for you are far from friendly. All the tenderness and care that he feels for you hardly compares to friendship. Daryl definitely didn't feel like kissing Carol's lips every time she came into his field of vision. That's the difference.

• But realizing your feelings is only halfway there. Daryl isn't the type to make the first move and declare his love. He's a very insecure person because of his past, so it would be hard for him to believe that someone like you would want someone like him. Daryl will just watch over you from the sidelines, he will make sure you are safe and will always be there to protect you. Even if it's just a harmless fall down the stairs when you were arranging jars of canned fruit on the top shelf in the Alexandria pantry. He will notice that the stepladder beneath you is wobbling dangerously and will be there to catch you and prevent you from bruising any part of your body. He will take great care of you.

• Daryl is probably the type of man who idolizes and admires the girl he's in love with. Both her character and inner world, as well as her looks. He would spend hours just looking at your unconditionally beautiful face. Every mole, every freckle, every wrinkle in the corner of your eyes when you smile. God, he could never get enough. Every part of you is perfect. Daryl's not sure he's ever seen a more beautiful woman. I mean, he probably had a soft spot for women he personally thought were pretty in the past, but it was never more than a glance in their direction. Just trying to say that Daryl isn't a pristine and innocent man who never thought about women. Over the many years of his maybe not the most prosperous life, Daryl has definitely had his fair share of beautiful women. But it had always been respectful. Mental admiration from the sidelines. Daryl never "barked" or "bit" like Merle. Daryl is much more respectful of women.

• That's why he likes to watch from the sidelines and think about you. A lot of thinking. Daryl is indeed a man of few words, but he has more than enough to think about. And when he falls in love, you become the center. Except when Daryl has to think about survival or when he and Rick are making a plan of action to save the group. But rest assured, all of Daryl's free time is spent thinking about you. He's very observant and remembers every little thing about you so he can think about it later. Do you like to read? Daryl will listen to you talk about your favorite books and find them during one of your outings, rest assured. Do you like wildflowers? Great, a bouquet of a hundred of them will be waiting for you on the doorstep of your Alexandria home when you come home after a hard day's work. Maybe you like a certain kind of clothing? Like something knit? Daryl will either find it during the outing or ask Carol to help with it when she's not busy. He won't say who it's for, but Carol certainly knows. And after you get those little gifts, Daryl will watch you smile widely because you know who left them under your door. And Daryl will think about your smile until he falls asleep at night. But he'll only dream about you, too.

• Somehow you were the first to admit your feelings because Daryl is actually cowardly about these things. A man can take on walkers or hostile people with his bare hands (like the Saviors), but he definitely can't just go and tell someone he really likes how he feels. No, you have to push him. And hints aren't enough, you have to say it outright. And then probably prove the sincerity of your words of love for the rest of your life, because Daryl Dixon is a very insecure man. He knows in his brain that you really do love him and will be faithful to him, but those childhood traumas are really getting in the way of his life. Be prepared for that.

• Your relationship with Daryl will gain momentum gradually. I don't think Daryl really likes all these formalities and labels like "girlfriend" and "boyfriend". You're just his and he's just yours. There's no need to complicate it all, the world of the zombie apocalypse is already very complicated. But if you care about dates and formalities, surely Daryl can learn to take it seriously. Not right away, but he will. Just give him time and he'll lay the whole world at your feet. And he'll start marking your anniversary with a marker on his calendar so that he definitely won't miss this important day for you (he won't admit it, but for him too). Daryl will be learning and you'll have to be a good mentor in this relationship for the first few years. It will be worth it, trust me.

• Daryl Dixon gets attached to people easily. He's like a big loyal dog. I mean, have you seen how loyal he is to Rick and Carol? He bites at first, doesn't want to let anyone in, but eventually he gives in and lets you take his heart and soul under his protection. Take care of that. My point is that this is the same way love works in Daryl's case. I'm pretty sure Daryl doesn't believe in the concept of love at first sight and stuff, he rather believes that love only comes about through the process of a relationship. So at first he thinks you are just a pretty woman. Then a friend. Then a good friend. And yes, he may feel sympathy, affection and probably crush at this time, but not love. No, he falls in love with you gradually. It's a slow process, but in Daryl's case it will be forever. He's definitely a one-woman man. And when he allows himself to really love you and not just be a little bit in love, when his heart completely belongs to you and he finally says "I love you" with all seriousness and responsibility, rest assured that this is love. This man will show you what true love is. Safe, sincere, and endlessly committed. Just give him time. Let him love you.

• The following headcanon (though I think it's unqualified canon) about Daryl's loyalty follows from this. You may try to be jealous of him or think he'll fall in love with someone else (it all depends on your confidence), but Daryl will prove time and time again that he's only loyal to you. This man is serious about his and your feelings and your relationship. Therefore, he will not give not a single reason for jealousy. But there could be quite a few women around (and men probably too) who might like Daryl. He doesn't care, he will never look at anyone else. Why would he do that when he has you? You're perfect for him and his heart doesn't belong to him anymore. So if Daryl notices your jealousy and insecurity, he'll spend all his time trying to prove to you that you're the one for him. He's deeply committed. To Rick, to Carol, to Maggie, to Alexandria. He's eternally devoted to you.

• The relationship with Daryl will be full of complexities, let's not turn a blind eye to that. He's a complicated man with a lot of trauma behind him. The situation is more acute if you're a complicated person, too. There's a lot to put up with. Probably a lot of fighting at the beginning of the relationship, especially if we're talking about Daryl from the first seasons of the show. But if you're both willing to work on that relationship, it will work well. Again, not right away, but it will. Daryl is sure that his love for you will be enough for both of you and certainly for solving all your problems in this relationship. He will try his best for you and you will try your best for him too.

• Physical intimacy is probably going to be difficult. Daryl's not a fan of close physical contact, especially with someone he can't call his family. You know, the boy had a shitty childhood. But he feels the need to feel the warmth of your skin on his skin. So he may unknowingly touch you before your relationship even begins. It could just be a "casual" hand collision when you both reached for the same item on the shelf. Or he may lightly touch your shoulder when he needs to get your attention and say something to you. You shouldn't pressure him with this and force a hug or anything like that. He will definitely come to it on his own when he's comfortable and he sees that you're okay with it. As your relationship progresses, he will open up to new types of physical contact more quickly. Sure he'll hug you a lot, try to hold your hand in his, but it's all in private. And of course kissing. I think Daryl actually likes kissing, but he's not very good at it for lack of much experience. Teach him how to kiss well if you have enough experience yourself. He'll be a good student. Especially when it comes to lessons involving his lips on yours. I'm pretty sure Daryl will become very clingy as your relationship progresses. When you're alone together, he won't be able to feel comfortable unless his arms are around you in one way or another. He physically needs to hold you, to bump his nose into your neck and hair to smell your scent, which he loves so much. And of course kissing. Gentle kisses or passionate French kisses, he loves it all.

• Daryl definitely doesn't like the display of attachment on the publick. He considers it yours and his alone. Something private that needs to be kept out of the public eye. Well, he's also pissed off by those ambiguous looks Carol and Rick give him after you call him "baby" or "cutie" in public. But Daryl is willing to hold your hands and will even let you kiss him on the cheek in public if he's in a good mood. He'll save the rest for the two of you alone in your sweet home in Alexandria.

• As for intimacy, everything is ambiguous here. I think for Daryl it is not at all a mandatory aspect of the relationship. If you are asexual, he will have absolutely no problem with this. You are more than enough. The opportunity to see you smile, hug you and make you happy is all he needs. Sex is not necessary and Daryl can definitely live without it if you are not interested in sexual relations. But if you are not against it, then he will be happy to please you. I mean, he does it every day just by existing and loving you, but if he can please you in a sexual sense, he will be happy to do so. But again, not right away. You both will go to this gradually. Trial and error. Only when he completely opens up to you and is not ashamed of his scars, knowing that you love them completely and completely because they are a part of him. But most importantly, when you yourself tell him that you are also ready, then you can act. Daryl has some experience. Merle ordered Daryl... a prostitute for his twenty-first birthday and Daryl had to do it. I think he was the one feeling like a prostitute, not the woman. And maybe he's slept with random women from a bar a couple of times after drinking too much. But it was never anything special and not out of great desire. With you, it's different. Sex with you is his way of showing you love in a new way. Either way, he knows how it works, but you still need to guide him. Show him how you like it and help him the first few times. Daryl is a quick learner, especially if you help him. So pretty soon he'll memorize all the right places and positions to make you feel good as hell, nothing less. Daryl will make sure that you feel good first.

• Your comfort is Daryl's absolute priority. Over the years, he will learn to compromise and give in when necessary. Daryl loves you unconditionally and is ready to be on his knees in front of you, this is what you have done to him with your love and tenderness. Daryl Dixon has become soft and fluffy around you. Just for you. Merle would call him a pansy and laugh, but Daryl doesn't care. Not anymore. You're all he cares about.

• You're his safe place. His home. His heart and soul belong to you, take care of it. And then Daryl Dixon will move mountains for you, you bet he will.

~ A cute little headcanon as a bonus: I honestly think the soundtrack of the relationship with Daryl, is the song: The Goo Goo Dolls - Iris.

[lit-in-thy-heart]

fucking hate moving

[sunshinericciardo]

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 || 𝐋𝐍𝟒

summary: in which you and your ex boyfriend both seperately reminisce on one specific memory you shared. until you find out you weren't doing that seperately.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i've had this idea for a few weeks now and it took me so long to finally write it down. this is basically written for my bestie @stuffoflando, ily, <3 and obviously tysm to @welld0nebaku who proofread and helped me get through it, ily, as always <3

and again, please lmk what you think!!

not my gif!!! credits to owner/angel tagged underneath the gif.

Warnings: not a lot, just a lot of fluff, angst. i think that's basically it.

It has been three weeks since you and your now ex boyfriend had broken up due to unlucky schedules, with him always on the move, and you in your final year of uni. He had missed your support at his races, while you were trying to manage school, working at the cafe and being with him, as well as supporting him at his races as best as you could, but you could only do so much.

Ever since your break up, you’ve been trying to keep going but nothing is coming out of your hands. You’re struggling to keep up with classes and homework, and the only thing that keeps you going is the free coffees during your work shifts. You’ve been feeling empty, incomplete, if you will. Like sitting in your house, with no furniture. Like having tea, without a biscuit. Like cereal, without milk. Sitting in a bath, without any water in it.

Like walking through a field, without dandelions.

You decided to finally, after three weeks, get out of bed and go for a walk. You put your headphones in and shuffle your playlist.

Was it a good choice to put your sad playlist on? Probably not, yet you found yourself doing it anyway and immediately being hit by a song perfectly describing the way you felt.

We haven’t spoke since you went away.

Comfortable silence is so overrated

You found yourself walking towards that specific field you and Lando met, and where you had spent the little time you had at home together.

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

--

“Lando, stop! You’re making a fool out of yourself!” You squealed as you saw your boyfriend of six months twirling through the field, making his way towards you.

“I don’t care!” He shouted, continuing his movements until he reached the spot you were sitting. He plopped down right next to you on the blanket. It was a perfect Sunday afternoon in the midst of June, the only weekend off he had this month. Due to covid, his schedule was busier than ever. With triple header after triple header, you and Lando barely had time for each other. Even when he was off from racing for a weekend. He’d still be at the MTC for sim work or sponsor meetings and whatnot. You absolutely admired his hard work and dedication for the sport, but at the same time you wish he’d work a little harder for your relationship to work.

Meanwhile Lando was just simply admiring his girlfriend. Completely over the moon by the fact that he finally had two full days to spend with you. “I love you.” He mumbled barely audible, he was eyeing you up and down, not just in love with you, but in love with everything you were, and the way you looked in your sundress, a knitted cardigan hugging your arms, your curled hair sprawled across your back, dressed with a pair of sunglasses on top of your head, the L necklace proudly around your neck, a gift he gave you after being away for a triple header earlier in the season. At this point, he was happy. Nothing needed to be said. He got up, only to move over and sit behind you, his arms wrapping around your body, pulling your back into his chest. Comfortable silence between the two of you.

“I love you too.” You mumbled, lifting your head up to look at him from your position, he looked down at you, pressing a kiss atop your head, he wrapped his arms around you even tighter.

You looked out over the field, smiling at your view when your eyes met a few dandelions in the grass. You got up, your eyes pierced on them, you picked the flowers and walked back towards your boyfriend.

“Look how pretty they are.” You got his attention, a smile beamed off his face as you started twirling around with the flowers still in your hand. Lando quickly got his phone out of his pocket to snap a picture, never wanting to say goodbye to this perfect moment you shared.

He decided this was the perfect time to make your relationship public. Everyone kind of assumed the two of you were dating but neither of you had ever confirmed it. You wanted to make it public sooner, but he always strayed away from that. He wanted to keep you safe and secret for as long as possible, he already felt guilty that he couldn’t be with you every day, let alone having to leave you alone with the possibility of receiving hate comments on social media.

Lando posted the photo he took to his instagram story, simply captioning it with a red heart. He put his phone away and looked back up at you, that smile still glued to his face. When you didn’t look his way he decided to get up and go over to you, hoping you wouldn’t see him before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up as he twirled you around.

Both of your giggles filled the field as your arms wrapped around his. His twirling came to a halt, he looked up at you with a sparkle in his eyes, his eyes roamed your features, completely in awe of you. Your head dipped down to reach his before your lips met Lando’s. The kiss was one like in the movies, one where you felt the fireworks as your lips met. It was cheesy, but true. Neither of you had loved the other more than they thought was even possible at that point. The kiss was passionate, but not heated, for once it was just filled with love rather than lust. Neither of you wanted to let each other go at that moment. The sun radiated warmth all over you, the sound of birds chirping all around you and being accompanied by each other is all you needed at that point.

“Lan.” You mumbled after the two of you sat back down in silence for a while.

“Yes, love?”

“When do you leave again?” You sniffled, although you didn’t want to admit it to him, but the days without him next to you were hard. The two of you complement each other so well, you’re missing half of you when he’s not there next to you.

“Baby, I really don’t want to think about leaving you right now.” He mumbled as he laid down on the blanket. You sighed, you weren’t in the mood to argue with him, yet you needed to know.

“I want to come with you.” You sat up. He followed your actions, a frown present in his features.

“Really?” You nodded a smile beamed off your face.

“Absolutely, I’m going to take the weekend off from work and I’m coming with you. If that’s okay with you?” He nodded immediately, copying your smile as he leaned in to kiss your lips.

“I love you.” You and Lando said simultaneously.

“Let’s go home, baby.” He mumbled against your lips, pulling you up, You draped the blanket over your shoulders before walking off.

--

“And even my phone, misses your call, by the way.” You mumble along to the lyrics in your headphones.

“Does it?” An all too familiar voice breaks you out of your thoughts. You look to where the voice is coming from, seeing Lando sitting next to you.

“Lando?” You whisper. “How long- when did- what are you doing here?” You manage to bring out, fighting the tears building up in your eyes. You want to look him in the eyes but you notice he’s wearing sunglasses, making it impossible to look him in his eyes. He is wearing one of your favorite outfits on him, ripped black jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt, several bracelets around his wrist. His skin tanned as always, his curls laying messily atop his head. You catch yourself biting your lip, immediately looking away from him, blood rushing to your cheeks.

“I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes now. I- I erm.. I have a day off.. I- jeez I would’ve thought this would be easier. I- fuck. Okay, fuck it. I miss you. I miss us, I miss the memories we made. Like that one sunday afternoon after the first triple header, you know, right here in the field. We were both so happy to be together, at that moment I thought. I knew you’d be the mother of my children.” The tears you are so badly trying to hold back are now a river running down your cheeks. You look at Lando and see him struggling with fighting the tears. You move over to sit closer to him, taking his sunglasses off. That’s when you see his swollen, red eyes. He hasn’t been handling your breakup well to say the least.

“So, after three weeks of complete radio silence, you decided to show up to the one place you knew I felt at home. Just when I had decided to completely move on?”

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really am, for not reaching out to you. I really wanted to, it’s just.. I was unsure of what to say, and I have probably typed a thousand words already, and deleted them all because nothing I could ever type in a text to you would be enou-” You silence him by crashing your lips into his, your arms wrapped around his neck. Lando is shocked to say the least, unsure of where to leave his arms and what to actually think of this. A few moments later he finally relaxes into the kiss, his hands resting on your lower back, pulling you closer against him as he starts to move his lips against yours.

“Lan..” You mumble against his lips, making him pull away, worry clearly present in his features. Your hands rest on his shoulders, a smile forming on your lips. “I love you, I always have, and I always will.” His features immediately relaxed, leaning into you to peck your lips.

“I love you too, babe.” Your head dips down to the crook of his neck, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Do you want to go home?” He mumbles in your neck and kisses the skin under your ear multiple times.

“Gladly.” You sigh, pulling away from him before getting up from the grass. Lando needs your touch as much as you need his, your hand finding his immediately after. Neither of you have ever been the type to hold hands, but you made an exception for this one occurrence.

You end up cuddling up on the couch, catching up on his racing over the past three weeks. He tells you his performance hasn’t been the way it used to be this season, resulting in Daniel outperforming him. You briefly mention the state you have been in for the past three weeks before changing the subject to the future. The two of you end up ordering a pizza to share and spend the evening watching movies, cuddling and kissing.

Once you get to bed, you simply smile as you rest your head upon his chest, drifting off to sleep in no time. The comfort of having Lando next to you again has never felt this good.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Jealous | Damon Salvatore x reader

Requested by @malfoys-demigod / Summary: Damon is jealous of you and Klaus’ close-knit relationship.

A/N: So in this fic, the things with klaus and Elena never happened. Damon only knows Niklaus because of Stefan spending the 20s with him and well because he’s an original vampire. Everyone knows the original family. 

@malfoys-demigod : Thank you so much for requesting and I’m so sorry it’s took me this long to get this out! I hope you enjoy xx 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

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********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

“I think my favorite decade was the 40s.” 

You and Damon walk hand and hand through the crowd and down Bourbon Street. You two had decided a weekend in the Big Easy, aka New Orleans was a much needed get away. 

“Really?” You ask, “I think mine was the 70s.” 

“The 70s were pretty great. With the-” 

Damon was interrupted by you running into someone and quickly muttering out apologies. “I’m so sorry- Klaus?!” 

“y/n?” Klaus is just as surprised to see you as you are him. 

“Oh my god!” You engulf him in a hug, which he quickly returns, “What are the odds!” 

“I mean this is kinda my city.” Klaus chuckles, pulling back to look at you. He takes the time to take in your appearance, “You’re still as beautiful as the last time I saw you.” 

You brush him off, “Oh stop it.” 

Damon clears his throat, “excuse me- you two know each other?” 

Klaus chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder, “We know each other pretty well.” 

You roll your eyes and push him off you, “That was decades ago!” 

Klaus chuckles and motions out to the city, “What are you doing here in New Orleans?” He then reaches out for you, giving your arm a friendly squeeze, “You must come to dinner with us tonight. Rebekah would love to see you.” 

“Yes I would love that!” 

“We have plans tonight remember? Sorry, Klaus, maybe another time.” Damon grabs your hand and tries to lead you away from Klaus. He’s never liked him because of what happened with him and Stefan in the 20s and he’s not liking how Klaus is eyeballing you and lingering his touches. 

“Oh come on Damon. We’re here for a week! We can spare one night.” You look to Klaus, “We’d love to come to dinner tonight.” 

“great! Meet us at Rousseau's say around 6?” 

You nod, “I’ll see you then.” You smile. 

Klaus returns the smile, “It’s really great running into you. It’s been ages.” 

“I’ve been on the west coast for a while then made my way back to Mystic Falls. That’s where I met Damon.” You lean into Damon.  

“Ah, that’s where I went wrong. I chose the east coast. I should have chosen the west coast.” 

“You and I both on the west coast? People wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You laugh. 

Damon clears his throat again and tugs on your hand, “Alright, we should go now. Don’t want to miss our tour.” 

“Sorry.” You nod, “yes let’s go.” 

“See you tonight, love!” Klaus calls out to you as the two of you walk away. Damon has a scowl on his face and you already know something is bothering him. 

~ 

“So, what’s the deal with you and Klaus?” Damon asks as the two of you exit the hotel and make your way down the street toward Rousseau's. 

“Nothing. I spent time with the Mikaelson’s for a while. They were my family.” 

He hums as a response, not fully believing there wasn’t something else going on, “So you and Klaus, never.. dated?” 

Before you could give an answer, Klaus had yelled your name, Rebekah and Elijah standing by him. You greeted them with hugs and I’ve missed you, oh it’s been so long! And then the 5 of you made your way inside to grab a table. 

Klaus ordered a round of drinks for the table and some appetizers to start off the night. The Mikaelson’s reminisced about the time you’d spent with their family. 

“You and Rebekah fought all the time!” Elijah chuckles. 

“We hated each other back then.” Rebekah shrugs. 

“Then I showed her she couldn’t bully me and she decided I was okay.” You laugh, “I missed you guys. Gosh it’s been decades!” 

Damon grumbles quietly to himself as he sips on his bourbon. This was not how this trip was supposed to go for the two of you. 

“Oh the 70s were my favorite.” Klaus smirks at you over his drink. 

That caught Damon’s attention. You’d said the same thing earlier this morning.

You roll your eyes at Klaus, waving him off, “You hated the 70s” 

“Best decade of my life.” He nods, “We had some great times.” 

“Hold on a minute.” Damon sits up, looking between you and Klaus, “Was there something going on with the two of you?” 

“Not really” You denied.

“Yes there was.” Klaus answered at the same time you did. 

“Okay, what’s the real answer?” Damon narrows his eyes, “Cause you two are not on the same page.”

“The two of them were lovers at one point.” Elijah motions with his finger, “If I’m not mistaken it was the 70s.” 

Damon looks at you, “And that’s why the 70s were your favorite decade? Cause you and Klaus were lovers?” 

“Well, no that’s-” 

“That’s why it was my favorite. We had great times.” Klaus knows he’s getting underneath Damon’s skin and continues to egg it on. You two did have a history, but it came to an end and you two remained only friends. The feelings were gone and this was only Klaus being a dick. 

“Can you just shut up, while I talk to my girlfriend?” Damon snaps at Klaus. 

Klaus smirks from under his cup, “Did I hit a nerve?” 

“Oh both of you quit it.” You roll your eyes, “yes Klaus and I dated in the 70s but it ended with us being friends. Good friends and that was it.” You put a calm hand on Damon’s arm, “okay?” 

“You’re a dick.” Damon says to Klaus. 

Klaus shrugs, “You’re an easy target.” 

“Okay, that’s enough. Both of you. Klaus quit getting under Damon’s skin for no reason. and Damon quit looking at Klaus with murderous eyes.” You sip on your drink, “Can’t we enjoy the night without drama?” 

“Ah but what’s a Mikaelson dinner without some drama?” Rebekah toasts with a laugh. 

Kissing Damon’s cheek, you put a hand on his thigh, “Dinner and drinks are on Klaus tonight, right?” You motion the waitress over. 

“Well no-” Klaus begins. 

"aww thank you, Klaus!” You interrupt ordering another round of drinks. 

“Still so bossy.” Klaus grumbles. 

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[gryffindors-weasley]

Tempers and Temptation

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: Ron lets his feelings get the better of him when he finds you spending some time with his brother, and when his temper boils over, it leads to a long overdue confession.

— “Can you shut up for once in your life?”

— “I know you said you didn’t want to be late, but you look amazing, and I’m trying not to kiss you senseless right now.”

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: arguing, jealousy, insecurities, angst, mild swearing, fluff, requited love, kissing

A/N: This is my fic for @theweasleysredhair 9k writing challenge! The prompts I’ve chosen are listed above, and they will be bolded and italicized in the fic! (Also, Fred is alive in this one!) Congratulations again my darling Chloe, you deserve all the love and more!

(not my gif, credits to the maker)

It was the beginning of the summer season, just a week and a half before Charlie’s wedding. The Weasley’s had all flocked back to their beloved family home for the once in a lifetime occasion for their brother, the new and improved Burrow now bustling with jovial energy. Harry had come with Ginny, Ron had picked you up on his way, Bill and Fleur were there first with Percy, and Hermione would soon join the family in the next couple of days to come. The decision to host the wedding there was one that was made hesitantly with the way Bill and Fleur’s had ended so tragically. But, the tight-knit family had decided the past was going to be put behind them and they refused to let it tarnish another special day. Their home was remodeled and desperately ready for new and brighter memories.

It was supposed to be a fun trip, and it had been at first, but Ron’s rather bitter mood had begun to sour yours after a while. His irritation only seemed to be directed towards you, you’d noticed, barely speaking more than a few words to you and only when you addressed to him first. The reasoning for his change in behavior was something you weren’t privy to, but you tried your hardest to brush it off and hope it’d resolve soon so you could enjoy your time with your best friend. You were surprised he’d even sat with you at dinner that evening, though he hadn’t contributed very much to the conversation. He opted to push the food around on his plate instead.

George nudges your arm, effectively pulling your attention from Ron to look to your left. You raised a brow at his grin, Fred peering over his brothers shoulder at you with an identical smile. Surely they were up to something; they always were. “What have you done now?”

George leaned in close, speaking in a hushed whisper, wiggling his brows.

 “We’ve got a little prank for the groom.” He looks to Charlie momentarily, turning back to you as you gaze up at him curiously when he holds up the smallest of potion bottles. “A couple drops of this and his hair will be as colorful as mum’s flowers!”

You couldn’t stifle your laughter, covering your mouth when you grabbed the attention of the older Weasley in question across the table. Ron sat a little straighter in his seat, his grip on his fork tightening as he exhaled a huff through his nose. The sound of your giggling made his stomach churn, the tips of his ears burning cherry red. You hadn’t paid him and his temper very much mind the whole dinner, hadn’t stolen any food from his plate, hadn’t made a point to embarrass him in front of his family like you usually had. Perhaps it was because you were too busy giving all your attention to his brother; it seemed as though you were always doing that. And he was absolutely not jealous of it.

“Are you okay, Ron?” You ask softly after a while, the sound of his huffing no longer a coincidence and your brows furrowed in concern at the redhead brooding next to you.

“I’m fine,” he dismisses, too quick for it to even be remotely truthful. He shrugs his shoulders as he looks anywhere but at you.

You frown at the sharpness of his tone, his answer once again just as short and vague as all the others. Your gaze lingered on him and he knew it, shifting around in his seat as his cheeks flush a pale pink. After a few moments you look away, only briefly. “Are you sure? You’re acting weird.”

“I said I’m fine, Y/n.”

The crease between your brows deepens, your frown remaining as your heart flips in your chest and it was quite obvious he was at odds with you. You brush it off and stuff down the hurt that bubbled in your stomach, repeating his actions as you shove the food around on your plate. His shoulders slumped a bit more at the look on your face, but the way George had whisked you away into conversation had him quickly swallowing down his apology.

He felt you hadn’t seemed too bothered anyway, but it very much bothered him. He wanted nothing more than to steal you just for one day, to have your undivided attention just for once this trip. Unbeknownst to him he could have it whenever he wanted it, but his stubborn attitude and his rash assumptions had pushed you away. The conclusions he’s jumped head first into had gotten him into a trouble only he could bail himself out of, whenever he’s ready to think rationally, that is.

He’d spent the whole dinner casting you longing glances that went unseen, exhaling sighs that hadn’t gone unheard. He managed to hold a half-conversation with Harry and he stuffed down the rest of his mashed potatoes that have since gone cold. Perhaps most noticeable to everyone was his lack of excitement for dessert considering it had been his absolute favorite. Instead he had a small sliver of the cake before excusing himself, setting his dirty dishes in the sink and sauntering off up the stairs wordlessly.

You followed after him to his old room after you’d had enough, hot on his tail as your fists clenched at your sides. “What is your problem?”

He turned around, brows knit together as he looked down at you quizzically. A bitter laugh left his lips at the question, and he pretended as if he didn’t have a clue as to what you were talking about. “I don’t believe I have one.”

“Oh really?” you begin, squinting up at him in disbelief. “This is the most you’ve said to me since we’ve gotten here, Ron. So I’m going to ask you again, what’s your problem?” 

You were rapidly growing impatient at the fact that he’d been very obviously skirting around the question, more so at his lack of communication the entire week, fluffing the pillows and smoothing the blankets on his bed to distract himself from giving you an answer.

However, you didn’t miss the way his chest was beginning to rise and fall at a quicker pace than before as his jaw tenses. He finally turned to look at you directly as you stood there with an expectant look on your face. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask George?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion at his words, head tilted as you squint up at him. “What?”

“Forget it,” he grumbles, shaking his head. He pushed in the chair seated at his desk, rearranging a few misplaced things that lay atop it.

“No, tell me again.”

He stands before you, clearly getting worked up the more time that had passed.

“Alright. I said, why don’t you go ask George? You’ve only spent every waking moment with him since we got off the bloody train!” He said, raising his voice at you as a pale scarlet began to flood his cheeks and burn down his neck.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You scoff, taking a step closer to him. You cross your arms over your chest, quickly unraveling them moments later as you fidget angrily.

“You don’t have to pretend, Y/n. Why don’t you just bring your stuff to his room instead?”

His tone was taunting now, immaturity weaving around his words the more he spoke his mind. It was beginning to remind you of the time he’d acted the very same way when you had gone to Hogsmeade with Cormac McLaggen. He hadn’t spoken to you for three days until he had finally gotten over it, claiming he was simply stressed over an upcoming quidditch match and nothing more. There was always something more.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you counter. You watched the color continue to stain his freckled cheeks the angrier he got. Then realization hit you in that very moment. “Ron, are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” He repeats, trying his best to sound as if he were utterly surprised and not at all knowledgeable of your accusation. Trying to act as if you’d just said the most absurd thing in the world. “I’m not jealous.”

He wholeheartedly was, that much was clear. Though he wasn’t about to let you know that. It lanced through him every time he saw you, every time you laughed at his brothers jokes, every time you chose to spend time with his brother over him. He loathed the feeling that settled deep within his chest and simmered there; he knew it was irrational and he knew he had been unfair the past week. He loved his brother, he loved his whole family deeply, but he couldn’t help but to feel as though he came in last place in more ways than one. He felt he had a lot to live up to being the youngest brother, and he was sure he wasn’t quite doing that. He always had to share everything, and there was one thing he wanted to himself. He wanted to be selfish and have it all to himself. And that one thing was you.

You could feel your cheeks flush a burning red at his ridiculous behavior, heart beginning to race and pound against your chest in frustration. “Yes you are! You’ve been ignoring me for the past week, Ron. He is my friend. Much like you even though you haven’t been acting like it.”

He didn’t want to be your friend, he wanted to be more than that. He wanted to cross his room and kiss you, not argue over his own jealousy.

He rolls his eyes and digs himself deeper instead, crossing his arms to mimic your stance. “Yeah, right, it won’t be long until you two are snogging. Maybe Aria will throw you the bloody bouquet next week.”

“Can you shut up for once in your life?”

You grit out the words as you attempt to conceal the falter in your voice from trying to suppress your tears, hastily grabbing your bag from the floor and slinging it over your shoulder. Your eyes stung by now as you turned to look at him briefly with your hardest stare, promptly spinning on your heel to walk out.

“Where are you going?” He asks, brows furrowed and his arms drop down to his sides.

“Anywhere to get away from you.”

“Fine.”

You rushed down the winding wooden staircase with a heavy ache in your heart, and in that moment you wished there hadn’t been so many floors because you desperately wanted to leave. As much distance from him as possible would be nice. The tears began to spill over your flushed cheeks, wiping them away with the back of your hand as your other held the strap that rested on your shoulder.

“Why the long face, Y/n/n?” Fred asked with a pout as you hurriedly passed by the living room.

“Your brother is an idiot,” you sniffle, though your tone was still angry as you brushed by him to get outside.

It was dark out now, the night breeze that swept over you giving you chills. You continued to walk towards the field surrounding the cozy home, nothing but anger in your stride and a headache forming from trying to keep your tears at bay. Despite that you kept on walking as they spilled freely down your cheeks now that you’d been alone, only stopping when you reached the familiar clearing. It wasn’t too far from the Burrow, but far enough to be left alone for a little while. Far enough from Ron and his absurd jealousy.

You sat down on the slightly overgrown grass, hugging your bag to your chest as you let your frustrated tears fall quietly one after another. The stars glimmered above you in the navy expanse, unable to be truly appreciated in your state of mind and the moon provided just enough light for you to not be quite so fearful to be alone out there at night. Frustration barely explained how you felt, how could he be so oblivious?

George was one of your closest friends, all of the Weasley’s were for that matter. You had grown up around the delightful family just a few years short of your whole life, so quite honestly his behavior was something unjust. It wasn’t unlike him to be distant, to let things bottle up and build before he bursts. But his words cut through you and you wondered just how long he’d been keeping it in.

Regardless, you continued to sniffle and wallow to yourself, the cuffs of your shirt now dampened by your tears. Being in love was a wonderful thing, but it was also something that could hurt you all the same. You felt ridiculous, really, to have pined for the same ginger boy since you were fifteen. It had been eight years of backing out of confessions, of being on the brink of kissing him. Eight years of taking turns being jealous but unaware of the other.

It was a viscous cycle that seemed to do more harm than good sometimes, but you suppose it could’ve been your own fault for keeping your feelings a secret. You didn’t know he broke up with Lavender because he’d missed you so much. All you knew was that seeing him with somebody else hurt. He hadn’t known you turned down Cormac’s several dates in favor of spending your free time with him instead. He just knew there was talk of the two of you, and the thought of pressing further for more information made him nauseous. You were so blind to one another it was starting to take its toll.

In his teen years not long ago, he would have kept his distance out of sheer stubbornness. He would have brooded to himself and sulked about until he was over it, but now he just felt ridiculous. He was twenty-three years old still acting like he was thirteen, and the regret pooled in his chest the moment the words left his mouth. The truth was, he couldn’t bear being apart from you for too long, especially when your absence hadn’t been on good terms. He could swallow his pride if it meant you wouldn’t leave.

You didn’t know how long you’d been out there, but it certainly felt like a considerable amount of time. You’d unknowingly sulked to yourself for the last two hours, the initial anger long gone. The lights of the first floor had since been turned off, mismatched windows beginning to lose their glow as well as your eyes raked up the home. All but the very top floor. 

Your time alone was cut short at the familiar footfalls sounding behind you. You close your eyes and release an exasperated sigh. “Y/n?”

“Have you come to yell at me again?” You huff, standing to your feet and turning around. The urge to cry had immediately come back upon seeing him but you simply stared at him. 

He stilled in front of you, brows furrowed as he swallowed thickly. His eyes bounced from the bag clutched tightly in your shaky hand, so much so your knuckles were an ivory white. Then they landed on your face, at the tears rimming your eyes and wetting your flushed cheeks. At your rosy nose and miserable frown on your lips. Your lip quivered in a mix of anger and tears you fought to suppress now that he stood before you again.

“No,” he said, much softer this time as he looks at the ground momentarily before coming up with a defense. “To be fair you yelled at me too.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in an unamused glare and purse your lips, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why exactly did you follow me out here then?”

He shrugged timidly, stuffing his hands in his pockets briefly before taking them back out again nervously. He was too flustered to lie. “Because you never go out at night by yourself.”

He remembered, of course he did. No matter how irrational, no matter how mad he may have been. But that wasn’t important, it shouldn’t have been because you were angry at him over the fact that he thought you were so madly in love with his brother. You were angry that he had been so blind to the fact that you were madly in love with him. You felt as though it couldn’t have been anymore obvious, but you suppose you were wrong.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you stared up at him with a softer gaze, biting the inside of your cheek. “Well, I’m fine. You can go inside now.”

With a few moments of a lingering stare, you turned away from him, unable to withstand the tension any longer but he hadn’t left you just yet. Instead, he stayed put, staring after you wordlessly as you took a few more steps away from him. His heart had been bounding mercilessly in his chest as if he’d just run halfway across the world to see you, his words on the very tip of his tongue.

“Don’t,” he said abruptly, cheeks flushing at the unintentional raise in his voice. You stand still then, your back to him as you wait. He gulped as he fought desperately to articulate his words in a way that didn’t make him look any more foolish before you could take another step away from him. “Don’t leave.”

You turn back around, clutching the strap resting on your shoulder as you look up at him. His mouth must have opened and closed at least a dozen times, looking like a fish out of water until eventually he gave up entirely as he met your gaze.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” you say softly, and his cheeks are quick to burn the scarlet red shade of embarrassment at his words. He simply nods in acceptance, though, looking away from you.

A silence settles over you, save for the crickets chirping and the occasional breeze sweeping through the warm summer air. It was tense and inescapable, neither one of you knowing just what to say or how to say it, though it was very clear that something was on both your minds. More than what had just transpired not long ago.

“I think I’m going to head to bed now. It’s late,” you finally say, brushing past him and back towards the misshapen home that stood tall in front of you. The tension was almost suffocating and you had to leave before it had gotten any worse.

“Y/n wait,” he calls out, hesitant as his hand reaches out for you, dropping back to his side as quickly as he held it out when he saw you’d been too far to grab onto.

You turn your head and look over your shoulder, the look on his face causing you to turn around fully. Your brow raises in curiosity though you stay quiet. A sigh leaves his lips in frustration with himself. The words were on the very tip of his tongue, just waiting to be spoken as they had been for quite a while. The reason for his behavior was right there.

“Goodnight.” It’s all he says, finding it impossible to speak his mind when you look at him like that.

You nod, glancing up at him with a half smile. “Night, Ron.”

—

A week had gone by since your argument, and things had been considerably less awkward between the two of you, though it was still very much there. Ron had stopped avoiding you, he stopped speaking to you in one word answers in favor of your usual banter. And he stopped his sulking and brooding, for the most part.

Hermione had arrived and has stolen you away once more but he expected as much, though you did notice him focus his gaze on you on more than one occasion. It left you jittery, as if you were in fourth year again and he’d just asked you to the Yule Ball. Hermione insisted that you admit your feelings, not without a friendly but firm threat that she’d tell him for you. You promised you would in time, just not yet. You weren’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to put your heart out on the line.

Ron had almost told you he loved you three times over that week, but he kept it to just an apology no matter how tempting it was to spill his most vulnerable feelings once and for all. He spent so long holding the words on the very tip of his tongue that he just wanted to say them a million times over.

He wanted to tell you when he watched you and Hermione help his mother with dinner. You looked like sunshine as you laughed in the cluttered kitchen joyously, too focused on conversation to notice him gawking. He wanted to swipe the flour off your cheek and press his lips to yours in a kiss, tell you just how much he adored you and all that you do.

He wanted to tell you when you helped him wash his dads car. You’d been teasing him about the infamous scratch that just couldn’t be repaired by Ron’s encounter with the Whomping Willow, the brightest smile on your face. He found you could pick on him all you wanted and he wouldn’t mind, even when you sprayed him with the garden hose. He was too distracted by the way your hair glimmered and sparkled in the afternoon sun to care about much else.

He wanted to tell you when you’d helped him set up the tent for the wedding the night before the ceremony. You found yourselves laying side by side on the ground, staring up at the striped ceiling of the enchanted structure in awe. You’d caught him staring and he looked away immediately, smiling to himself as his hand brushed against yours. Conversation had long since been quieted at that point, your presence alone being enough to keep him happy no matter what. He wanted to tell you of his all consuming love without pause.

Now, you were shuffling around his room in a hurried panic, time ticking by relentlessly as you search for the matching earring that was supposed to be adorning your right ear, but it had been nowhere to be seen. A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you root through your bag for the third time now, dumping its contents out completely in hopes for a better outcome. The commotion filtering in from outside certainly hadn’t helped flustered state.

“Do you really need to wear those earrings? I’m sure Ginny’s got some you could use, or maybe even Mione,” Ron reasons with a shrug as he tries to ease your frustration.

“Yes, Ron. These go with my dress, I need to find it,” you insist, frowning when your triple check yielded the same result. It was just your luck to have lost a key part to your attire only moments before an important event. You were beginning to think you hadn’t packed the complete set at all.

He shakes his head with a soft laugh at the way you’d been acting, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he watches you flitter around in a huff. He felt you didn’t even need the earrings, it wouldn’t have taken away from your radiance, nothing could. You looked absolutely beautiful in your dress, and he tried not to dwell on the fact that it’d matched his suit. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but he couldn’t help the feeling blooming in his chest.

Your groaning had pulled him from his lovestruck thoughts, your hand running through your hair. There were so many places the delicate piece of jewelry could’ve gotten lost in, and you were beginning to think you should give up entirely.

“This is unbelievable,” you grumble, taking a moment to think it over and retrace your steps. “I’m positive I brought both, I even double checked with you!”

He nods, going along with your words. “Y-Yeah. I’m quite sure you did,” he assures, scratching the back of his neck.

You rolled your eyes at his nonchalance, pursing your lips at him as you huff through your nose.

“Ron, it would be better for the both of us if you stop standing there and help me,” you say matter-of-factly, looking hopelessly in the drawers of his desk. When you look over your shoulder at him, it’s as if he hadn’t heard a single word you’d just spoken to him, his eyes fixed on you with a soft smile on his lips. “What?”

You turn around fully, raising a brow expectantly as you wait for his explanation of just why he’d been looking at you like that. He looked away momentarily, shifting his gaze to peer out of the window and collect himself before looking back at you, biting the inside of his cheek to fight his widening smile. “Nothing.”

You hadn’t bought his response, not even for a second, and he knew that. He wasn’t exactly being discreet by now, he’d stopped trying to do so a while ago. Partly because he knew you’d be too oblivious to put the pieces together, and partly because he was too smitten to mask it. It was rather tiring; to love someone for nearly a decade without certainty of it being reciprocated was taunting. Yet he didn’t have it in him to move on to someone else, because the truth was, no one in his lifetime could hold a candle to you.

“Could you please help me?” You ask again in a much less irritable tone this time. You spun on your heel quickly, hoping to mask the very obvious fact that a million butterflies had been set loose in your stomach, smiling softly as you scrambled to remember just what it was you had been looking for. With your back turned, you missed the way he stood there with hesitancy, the way you could practically see the gears turning in his head if you’d been looking at him. But he was grateful you couldn’t see it.

He’d spent the past week thinking of a hundred different ways to tell you this, all of them sounding hopelessly romantic in his head. It hadn’t gotten better with each day that passed either, switching between doubt and wanting to grab your face and kiss you. It became a looping cycle within those seven days, taunting him until he just couldn’t suppress it a moment longer. He refused. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“I know you said you didn’t want to be late, but you look amazing, and I’m trying not to kiss you senseless right now.”

The words tumbled from his lips and he almost winced with how utterly direct it was, spilling out with much less grace and eloquence than he’d planned. There was no way you wouldn’t understand what he meant after that.

Your distracted actions stilled at his quiet words, turning your head as your mouth hung slightly agape. A soft crimson stains your cheeks as you become aware of just how fondly he’s staring at you now, and you have the pressing urge to look away from it’s sheer loving intensity, but you don’t. However, you did drop the hairbrush in your hand, the sound deafening as it clattered loudly to the floor in the otherwise quiet room. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a timid smile as he laughs nervously, the tips of his ears burning while he fumbles with the hem of his vest.

You hadn’t been entirely sure you’d heard him correctly, but you were too stunned and too caught up hoping you had been to ask for any clarification. A part of you was tempted to pinch yourself to see if you’d been dreaming, but you were quite sure you weren’t. Even though a few fleeting moments had passed, the seconds felt like hours to him and you knew you couldn’t stare forever.

A rush of confidence had coursed through you in that moment because he hadn’t appeared to be joking, a smile pulling at your lips. “Well go on then.”

His breath caught in his throat at your words, his heart nearly beating right out of his chest. So much so that he found it impossible for you to not hear it’s rhythmic pounding. Though he quickly breaks out of his daze, his hand enveloping yours as he tugs you closer. His lips press to yours with the force of a thousand kisses, his fingers quick to tangle in your hair as your hands settle on his cheeks. Years worth of longing had seemed to seep into every brush of his lips, in the very way he’d been holding you as if you’d slip right through his fingers. And every time the warmth of his breath swept over you, it sent a bout of shivers rushing over your skin and leaving you completely enchanted.

You couldn’t help the smile forming, a soft laugh leaving your mouth as your nose brushes against his lips lightly. The pause in your kiss hadn’t lasted more than a few seconds as he found himself completely drawn to you. The desire to skip the reception altogether in favor of staying right there with you had lanced through him, the thought all too enticing but he knew he’d never hear the end of it.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he lets out an airy laugh, breathless and in awe. The quizzical look on your face is prompting enough for him to speak his mind. “I love you.”

The words were soft and they were true, mumbled without second thought in the close proximity. It had only taken him two years short of a decade to do so. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your quiet laughter on his lips, a sigh escaping him.

“I tell the girl I love my true feelings and she laughs at me. How wonderful,” he grumbles in faux offense, breaking away from you to shake his head as he looks to his right.

Your fingers brush over his jaw and turn him back to you immediately, leaning on your toes and kissing him once more. One that turned from a simple peck to a languid kiss that he found it next to impossible to break from. He hadn’t wanted to either. Your laughter has since disappeared, silenced against his lips as the certainty of his words truly began to sink in.

“I love you,” you whisper, and the smile on his face is immediate. His forehead rests on yours as his nose scrunches, his hair tickling your skin and a hum escaping him.

His hand squeezed your own gently, his lips continuing to ghost over yours in the softest of kisses. He had a lifetime to kiss you now, he had every day to come to do so, but he also had this current moment and he felt there was nothing more he wanted to do. It was apparent he was in a daze of requited love, it was obvious by the very way he looked at you as if you’d been the one person making the world go round.

You return his thoughtful look, something akin to mischief dancing in your eyes and he knew he was in for something. “Ron?”

He hums in response, his lips pressing to your cheek in hopes to distract you from the inevitable. His attempts were valiant but not enough to cloud your mind.

“So you were jealous?”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he drops his head to your shoulder, desperate to hide the noticeable scarlet invading his freckled cheeks. A groan leaves his lips and vibrates against your skin, he knew you would bring it up. He also knew this wouldn’t be the last time you would either. His soft laughter answers your question, his arms tightening their hold around you.

“You’ll never let this go, will you?”

You respond with a shake of your head, brushing strands of red hair from his eyes before wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. His smile is adoring as he tucks his face in your neck once more. He’s got you now, he’s unknowingly had you all along but his blunders didn’t seem to matter in that moment. Nothing did except for you.

His grin turned to that of a mischievous smirk, tugging on the corner of his lips as he stifled his laugh.

“What is it?” You ask, brow raised as you push back and your hands rest on his chest.

After a moment he held up his free hand between the two of you, the glimmering silver of your missing earring dangling between his finger tips. Your eyes widen a fraction as you gasp, his laughter unable to be contained much longer as you swat his arm.

“How long have you had that, Ron Weasley?”

He simply shrugs as a blush coats his cheeks and you snatch the earring from his hand with a playful frown, slipping it in your ear with ease.

“To be fair, I needed some time to work up the nerve to kiss you,” he reasons, your frown fading as you roll your eyes.

An eruption of boisterous cheers sounding several floors below had been reminder enough of the plans you were currently absent for. Surely they must have been waiting on the two of you. “Now look what you’ve gotten us into. We’re officially late.”

His gaze gave way to just how enamored he’d been by you, his lips meeting yours once more in hopes to hold him over until he could kiss you again. He knew that effort would be futile. He doesn’t even know how he’d made it this long without doing so a thousand times over.

“I’m sure they won’t miss us for five more minutes.”

You look up at him momentarily, your squeal ringing out as he nearly swept you off your feet. Your words are whispered against his lips as he brushes the hair from your face.

“Five more minutes.”

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @loony-loopy-lupinn @theweasleysredhair @lupinsclassroom @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq

[barzzal]

when the ball drops

summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)

↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)

↳ length: imagine; 5.9k

↳ masterlist: the barn

note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)

Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.

Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.

The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night. 

“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.

You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve. 

“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay. 

“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin. 

“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath? 

“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor. 

“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”

Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you. 

“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.

“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila. 

You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along. 

But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?

𖥸

It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays. 

Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended. 

“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth. 

“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time. 

“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way. 

Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city. 

“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.

“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for. 

“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar. 

“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her. 

Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug. 

“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with. 

“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second. 

“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.

“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.

You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone? 

A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.

“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation. 

“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl. 

Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.

Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.

“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line. 

Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.

Atta boy, Mat. 

“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.” 

He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.

“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” 

You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.” 

“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?” 

You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.” 

Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.

“See those girls?” 

Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well. 

“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.” 

“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”

Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin. 

“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.

“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?

“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.” 

“Exactly.” 

Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers. 

Apparently, it’s on the house.

“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.

“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.” 

To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.

“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you. 

There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.” 

He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind. 

“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.” 

“That long? How come?”

“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”

Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone. 

Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?” 

Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys. 

“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly. 

You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”

The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him. 

It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him. 

“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you. 

You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin. 

You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab. 

Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.

Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.

“I highly doubt that.” 

𖥸

Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make. 

“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?” 

He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers. 

“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at. 

Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach. 

“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.

“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window. 

“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.

“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.” 

After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.

You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind. 

“Come on, I know where we should go.” 

𖥸

Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.

There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career. 

Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night. 

You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point. 

“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm. 

The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze. 

“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.” 

“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him. 

“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble. 

“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.” 

You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence. 

You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did. 

“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”

You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago. 

You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.

You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.

That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.

Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.

Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.

Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.

“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds. 

He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.

“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.” 

“A crappy one, of course.” You add. 

Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.

“Definitely not this one.” 

As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.

You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays. 

“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was. 

Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year. 

“Will you walk me to my car?”

𖥸

You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play. 

“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly. 

Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.” 

“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment. 

“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.

You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. 

Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion. 

“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.

Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.

Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured. 

𖥸

Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years. 

You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so. 

Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat. 

You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.

You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.

Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard. 

“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause. 

However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night. 

“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice. 

Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”

[weasleytwinwheezes]

Gingerbread Wishes

@painfullyravenclaw

Hey can i request another imagine (basically the same girl, ravenclaw, american, you know the deal lol). it’s christmas time and when the twins find out she’s staying at hogwarts over the break (due to the train fare back to america being to expensive) they insist she comes to the burrow. in the middle of the night george wakes her up to sneak outside and look at the stars.

George Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader 

Authors note: I love writing transfer student ones so much! Thanks so much for the request :)

Warnings: fluffy fluff

Y/O/N= your owls name

Word Count:1,499

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7MpRZXgDP7vIEOMAcETIHS?si=d3VfkbHbSW63SzJhLWbvkA

*gif not mine*

Dear Mom and Dad, 

I’m sorry that I can’t come back home for the holidays, but replacing my broken wand used up all of the savings I had. I know you were both looking forward to me coming back but I don’t have enough for the train fare and the plane. Besides it’s best I get ahead on some of the material for next semester. I’ll promise to write once a week. Love you 

Merry Christmas, 

Y/N 

Sighing as you rolled up the piece of parchment, you attached it to the leg of Y/O/N petting her feathers before sending her on the way. You knew the trip would be a bit rough for her, mentally you noted to get her a few mice as a thank you treat and Christmas gift. The idea of being away from your family for the first time during the holidays, made your stomach knot up. Of course, you could actually spend the time studying instead of sulking about the castle and there would be others here with you. 

You were pulled from your thoughts by the feeling of arms wrapping around your waist, looking up you met the eyes of your sweet boyfriend. Smiling slightly, you cuddled into his arms. Thankful for his calming aura. You hadn’t even realized you had your face scrunched until you felt the muscles begin to relax. 

“You okay there Y/N? You look a bit tense,” George questioned. 

“Yeah Georgie, I’m okay. I just sent a letter to my parents about me having to stay here for the holidays,” you answered. This caused his ginger eyebrows to shoot up. Before he could ask you why you were staying, you replied, “My wand was far more expensive to replace than I realized. It used all of my savings and now I can’t afford the fare.” 

“Oh, well do you want me to stay? I don’t mind, really. The idea of you spending Christmas alone is rubbish.” he spoke. 

“Oh no George! Your mum is expecting you home and I have tons of work to get a jump on! Studying will do me good, I swear Hermione makes even Ravenclaws look like a fool with her intelligence.” you said as you forced a laugh out. Truthfully, you’d give everything to have George stay with you. Just the thought of spending nearly a month alone with him gave you butterflies, but you knew how much his family would miss him. 

“Y/N I don’t mind! I would really hate it for you to spend it alone!” George replied, his tone getting more desperate with each word. 

“It’s really okay George! I have so much I have to do! We wouldn’t even get to spend much time together! Besides there are others staying, so I wouldn’t be totally alone.” you spoke, not believing a word you said. 

Suddenly, his head perked up and he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You knew this look, this is the look he made when he had a crazy idea. 

“Georgie, why are you making crazy eyes?” you teased. 

“Why my dear Y/N, I just had what could possibly be my best idea ever.” he spoke confidently. 

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“You’re coming on holiday with me. To the Burrow,” he winked, strutting out of the Great Hall before you could even form a response. 

--------------------------------------

To be frank, the only word you could think of to begin to describe the Burrow was cozy. You had been to your fairshare of magic-ran homes, but nothing like this. Everything from the self-washing dishes to the enchanted knitting needles, blew you away. Of course, the real reason the house was so cozy was Molly Weasley. From the minute you met her, you loved her. When first getting there you had barely gotten across the threshold, before she wrapped you in a bone-crushing hug. Chattering the entire time about being thrilled to ‘meet the brilliant girl that managed to calm down her little Georgie’, this caused George’s face turn crimson red while you smiled cheekily at him and his mother. 

The first few days went by in a flash. Molly kept you all busy. Whether it was making the boys dig up weeds from the garden, or making the girls help decorate the house for Christmas. Each night you went to bed exhausted from the day's events and full from the amazing meals Molly had always managed to prepare. Unfortunately, this meant less time with George. The both of you knew the chores would lessen after Christmas went by, but you still wished for a little alone time. Before you could even think to go say good night to him, you felt yourself drift off to sleep in the small twin-sized bed. 

----------------------------------

“Psst Y/N! Wake up!” a voice spoke from the door of your room. Lazily looking about the room, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness, you saw George grinning down at you. 

“What are you doing here?” you managed to get out while yawning. 

“Grab your jumper and come on!” he whispered while pulling you from the bed.

Somehow in the fuss of him dragging you out of the room, you grabbed your boots and robe. You pulled them onto you as you sluggishly followed the redhead up the staircase, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

“George! Where are we going?! It’s one in the morning for Merlin's sake!” you whisper screamed at him. 

“SHH” was the only response you received. The two of you arrived at a window at the top of the stairs, you watched as he grabbed a basket and opened the window. The coldness of the outside air nipped at your cheeks. The lanky boy in front of you awkwardly climbed out onto the roof, motioning at you to follow him. Trusting that he would never do anything that would kill you, you followed him through the windowsill. 

After getting your footing, you looked to see George sitting on a blanket surrounded by candles. You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face as you went to sit beside him. Slowly, he unpacked the contents of the wooden basket. Two thermos of hot chocolate and a plate of gingerbread men. 

“I made and iced them myself Y/N,” he boasted proudly while holding the plate out for you to look at. 

A giggle escaped your lips as you peered at the terrible icing job he had done. You couldn’t tell what parts were decorated on purpose and what was a mistake. “They look great love, but I wouldn’t give up on the joke shop idea to open a bakery, quiet yet,” you teased him. 

Scoffing he unwrapped the plate, grabbing on and shoving it into his mouth without a word. You watched as he struggled to keep back a cough. His face turning red as he spit the remnants out into a napkin. “Merlin, those taste bloody horrible.” he choked out. 

Laughing, you pulled him down to a lying position. Finally looking up, you were amazed at the night sky. The stars seemed to shine so much brighter here. “George, tell me about the stars,” you whispered, slowly scooting into the side of him to soak up any body heat you could. 

He wrapped his arms around you and immediately went to pointing out different constellations. Although you weren’t super interested in relearning about stars. You had taken Astronomy for two years, you really just wanted to hear his voice. There was something about the way he sounded when he was talking about something other than pranks, you could feel the warmth of his words as he told you the stories of the stars. 

“And that one Y/N is the constellation Cassiopeia, it’s one of the brightest constellations.” he chattered on. You hummed in response, so he knew you were listening. Looking up at where he was pointing you suddenly spoke, “It looks like a W.” 

“You know, I never really thought of that!” he happily replied. You settled into a comfortable silence, before you show a line of light shoot across the sky. 

“Quick make a wish!” you all but yelled. Crossing your fingers tightly and closing your eyes you wished, please let this last forever. 

“Tell me what you wished for,” he teased while poking your side. 

“No! Or else it won’t come true!” you scolded him.

Putting his hands up to show defeat he pulled you into his chest and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Soon enough you were being lulled to sleep by the sound of his voice whispering, “My wish was us.” 

[too-attached-to-fiction]

A Princess Doesn’t Cry | g.w.

Not a george weasley gif but still applies oop

Masterlist here

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Warnings: implications of suicidal thoughts

Word count: 1585

Request: Can you write a George Weasley fic based off of the song Princesses Don't Cry by Aviva? Fluff or angst, or both? I love your writing so much!!!

A/N: of course, lovely! I live for stories like these, considering I’ve always wanted someone to do this for me… I hope you enjoy, and feel free to request again! This was the first time I listened to this song and it hits so hard...

ALSO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES OUT THERE!!!! MY MESSAGES ARE OPEN IF YOU NEED AN EAR, BUT I AM IN NO WAY A THERAPIST AND SHOULD NOT BE TREATED AS SUCH.

~~~

No, I'm fine, I'm lying on the floor again / Cracked door, I always wanna let you in / Even after all of this shit, I'm resilient / ‘Cause a princess doesn’t cry

~~~

You sat in the owlery, content all alone as the sun settled, sinking behind the mountains. You rarely got moments alone like this, and it had been hard enough to shake your friends off of your back to come up here. 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You sat at the window sill precariously, your legs dangling above the ground hundreds of meters below. 

How did it all come to this?

As the only daughter and heir to the Armin family, great things were expected of you. You met every expectation, but it still wasn’t enough to please your mother and father. Both of them had been unkind and cold from the very beginning, leaving you to be a muted version of yourself. 

Your friends - well, the people you called friends - hardly noticed, using you as a status symbol more than anything. You were sick of it, and just wanted things to be over. You were tired of having the world on your shoulders. 

You looked down at the ground below you, thinking about how easy it would be to jump, to imagine you were flying with no broom before meeting what you longed for. And yet, you remained still on the windowsill, your ears finding comfort in the owls behind you and your eyes watching the sinking sun. 

“That’s quite dangerous, you know.” A voice behind you said. “I do hope you’ll be careful.” 

You turned around, swinging your legs over the sill and back to safety inside. “Don’t pretend to care.” You hissed, ready to walk out. So much for an evening of solitude. 

“Hold on. You’re (Y/N) Armin.” The boy, who had ginger hair, grasped your elbow, pulling you back. “I’m sorry if I interrupted, but I did want to make sure you were safe-” 

“Don’t worry about it. In fact, don’t care.” You said coldly, yanking your elbow from his grasp and walking away. 

He stared after you, wondering what he had done wrong. For a moment, a flash of vulnerability was in your eyes when you turned back to him, and the worry in his head grew. What had you been doing there, sitting on that window? You looked small enough to be knocked over by just a slight breeze. 

One thing George Weasley knew was that he was determined to find you again. 

~~~

“George? Georgie? Are you listening to us?” Fred asked, waving a hand in front of George’s face while his twin scanned the faces of the people at the Slytherin table. 

“What do you know about (Y/N) Armin?” He asked, not bothering to look away despite Fred’s annoyance. 

“Her reputation’s as bad as Malfoy’s, and that’s saying something.” Lee Jordan huffed, joining the conversation. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile.” 

“The Ice Queen of Slytherin, aye?” Fred asked, nudging George. He was still looking for her. “Why the sudden interest, oh brother of mine?” 

“Nothing. I ran into her at the owlery the other day…” As if in a daze, George recited the story perfectly and quickly, his eyes distracted. 

“D’you reckon she’s mental?” 

“I don’t know.”

After spending the next weekend asking around, George finally ended up on the seventh floor, pausing when he heard sniffles coming from a small door. 

“Are you okay?” George asked, knocking on the door. He only got more sniffles in response, and he opened the door, fully ready to pull out his wand in the case of an attack- 

When he saw you in the middle of the small room, curled up on the floor and shaking with almost noise-less sobs. 

“Armin?” He asked, stepping closer cautiously. “What are you doing here?” 

You looked up to see the boy from the owlery. “Get out.”

“I’m only trying to help-”

“Get. Out.” You repeated, this time growling at him. “Stay the hell away from me.”

He scrambled out of the room, only to hear the sobs begin again the moment he shut the door. 

“I’m worried about you.” He spoke in a loud voice. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

Your sobs slowed as the words came in from the other side. You spread yourself out on the floor, still sniffling, occasionally rubbing tears off your face. 

It was clear he had no intention of leaving, but why? Why care? He was only a Gryffindor boy, one who definitely shouldn’t be caring about a Slytherin.

The last time you had let someone comfort and listen, they had left. Your parents had never shown you any affection of any kind, claiming that emotions meant weakness. And weakness could not exist in the heir of the Armin family. 

“I can try to help from out here, but that won’t work well for either of us. See, I’d like to give you a hug, but I can’t exactly do that with a door and a wall between us.”

You stayed silent, hoping he’d give up and leave. It wouldn’t hurt as much if he would only do as you wished. 

“I want to know what happened that day at the owlery. I want to know if you need a friend. I consider myself an excellent friend, and I can’t promise anything, but I don’t want to hurt you. I only want to be by your side and listen to whatever’s going on in your head.” 

Please, just go. You begged in your head. It’ll be easier for both of us if you do. 

“It’s three o’clock right now. At least, I’d reckon that from the amount of chimes that the bell tower just chimed. I’m not leaving until you let me come in. If you really want to be left alone, you could tell the room to create an exit for you, away from me. Think really hard about it and it’ll come true.” He called out. “But I’d like to hope that you won’t. I’ll be here until dinner time, and if you’re still there when I get back from dinner, I’ll stay until curfew.”

Was it worth the risk to let him in? This boy, this stranger, who knew more of your status than your person or abilities, was asking for your trust. This was not a matter to be taken lightly. 

“I could give you a hug if you let me in. And you could maybe cry it out some more, and I could try to help fix the pain.” He offered. “Only an idea, really.”

You moved to the door, resting your palm against it. 

“I understand. It’s hard to cry in front of people. You don’t even know me. Well, for starters, I’m George Weasley. I think we both have reputations that proceed us. I’m not a jerk. Not all the time. Well, I like to think that.” 

You leaned your forehead against the door, closing your eyes to focus on his words. 

“There are some pretty nasty things I’ve probably said about Slytherins. But you don’t seem like those things to me. Again, I hardly know you, so it’s not exactly easy for me to judge your character based on a short exchange of words.”

He sighed. “You looked scared in the owlery. You looked like you weren’t used to having people care. Which is really quite unfair, because I believe everyone should have at least a few people who care very much about them.” 

“If I open up the door, what will you do?” You asked weakly. “Looking for a way to get into my pants, Weasley?”

“Merlin, no.” He laughed. “You have a wicked mind.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” 

“I’d tell you that one way or another, someone cares for you, somewhere. Maybe someone else, other than me, too. A life without people who care is a lonely and rather sad life.”

“I’m going to open the door.”

George scrambled to his feet immediately as you opened the door. He opened his mouth to say something that he imagined to be pitying, so he opted for a joke instead. “Ah, the ice queen finally melts.” He grinned, although it fell off his face when you glared at him. 

“I could shut the door again.” 

“You wound me, princess.” 

“Bloody hell, give me one good reason why you shouldn’t have the door slammed in your face.”

George’s face turned serious. “Sorry. All jokes aside, may I step inside and give you a hug?”

“Why?”

“Because in my experience, I’ve found that hugs make me feel better. Maybe they’ll do the same for you.”

You stepped back and he walked in. Once the door was shut, you shuffled forward, nearly collapsing into George as your strong facade faded and you were reminded of why you were crying in the first place. He enveloped you in his arms. 

“There, there.” He whispered, running a hand through your hair. “Don’t worry about my shirt, I’m due for washing soon anyways.” 

“I shouldn’t be doing this, this is stupid-” You broke out of his embrace. “You should go, it’ll be easier…” 

“Easier?” His eyebrows knitted together. “Easier how?”

“Easier,” You tried to steady your breathing, “when you leave and stop caring, if you never start.” 

“Oh, princess…” He stepped toward you. “I don’t think I can stop caring, even if I wanted to.” 

He held you tight once more. “I’d like to care about you as much as I can, if you’d let me.”

“Don’t leave.” You whimpered pitifully, clutching his sweater closer to you as you sobbed. 

“Wasn’t planning on it, princess.”

[probably-writing-x]

Past encounter.

Ander x Reader

Request by anon: Hey ! I love your writings. I cas wondering if you could do ander x reader in which reader is new and some students are already flirting with reader and ander is jealous because he likes reader too. It would be cool if they met before and of course end up kissing because reader likes him back. Reader could tease ander and use his jaleousy idk you choose, I just liked the game between them in your imagine a series of fortunate events. Hope you like it (sorry for bad english, i'm french) xxx

Gif is not my own

Requests are open🤍

Starting at Las Encinas in your last two years of high school already felt like a bad idea. They were such a tight knit group that you hardly expected them to welcome any kind of newcomers. But when you were the only new paying student alongside three scholarship kids, they’d practically taken you as the best of a bad bunch. And you’d been getting more attention than you ever expected to.

It started with one of the other new boys who’d instantly tried to strike up some level of flirting with you. He was bold, loud, and slightly arrogant. But he seemed like his heart was in a good place. Christian, his name was.

Then you got the attention of Lu - who’d been intrigued by the new student who was so strongly the centre of attention at the moment. She’d sized you up, tried a few bitter comments to knock your confidence, and given up when people seemed to lose interest in her. You’d kept your cool and she hated how she couldn’t get under your skin, but it didn’t last for long.

Next was Guzmán, likely only flirting with you because things with Lu had ended. He was a nice enough boy but didn’t really seem like he had the best intentions and didn’t really have the characteristics of a personality that you’d find interesting. You were hardly suited for each other, other than your attractiveness which he’d assumed was reason enough to date. Definitely not, cariño.

There was only one boy amongst the whole group that interested you. The one who had taken a back seat and hardly acknowledged you much since you’d started. A boy that you had a hidden history with. Ander Muñoz.

- - - - - -

You’d spent your summer after turning sixteen unlike the rest of other students, you had been playing tennis like your life depended on it. Your Mum had always been encouraging of your sporting career and had forced you to enter a summer camp for training as soon as the opportunity arose. You expected to spend your time surrounded by people who actually cared for the sport as you tried your best to fit in. But on only the first day. You’d met a certain boy who changed that expectation.

Ander.

And soon enough, the two of you spent more and more time together. You always found excuses to play against each other, ate your meals together, spent your free time together, until you soon found yourself staying in his room more often than not. Things happened like a typical summer fling and it certainly made the camp a lot more interesting. He’d pull you out of training and take you somewhere away from prying eyes. You’d slip a note into his gym bag telling you where to meet him. Right up until when you’d left. And expected to never see the boy again.

Your last night with him was one of the most memorable. It was already past 3am when you lay awake in his bed, always making sure you were there past the time that theyd be checking on your rooms. His legs were intertwined with yours beneath the covers and his arm was around you, trailing patterns over the exposed skin.

“So where are you going after this?” Ander asks quietly into the silent room.

“I have no idea, if my Mum gets this job then we’ll be moving but I don’t know where to,” You say, glancing up to look at him, “It’s always a bit of a question with her.”

“Do you think we’ll see each other again?”

You prop yourself up onto one arm and rest a hand on his bare chest, “I don’t think either of us planned for that sort of commitment to come from tennis camp.”

He laughs gently and brushes your hair behind your ear, “Who’s to say that that’s not a good thing?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held back, I’m sure there are dozens of people at your school that could give you a much easier relationship than I could. Long distance never works.”

He leans up to you and brushes his lips against yours, “So I’ll never see you again?”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” You mutter, kissing him quickly.

“Then we should make the most of tonight.”

- - - - - -

Anders attitude since you’d started school could only be described as jealousy. It was evident. You saw the way he looked at you when you were near one of the other boys, listening to whatever topic of conversation they’d struck up. And it practically melted you to see how disgusted Ander looked at the sight.

“Oh come on, I could easily beat you in a fight,” You roll your eyes at Guzmán as he sits on the table opposite you and laughs.

“I doubt it, no offence,” He scoffs.

You two had become good friends over the past week as you’d made it clear that you only wanted to be friends and he’d been understanding of that. Though, to Ander, he was still a boy to be jealous of - having not learnt of the change in circumstances.

“Ander! Ander!” Guzmán waves him over, “Can you agree with me that I’d beat (Y/n) in a fight?”

Ander glances up but doesn’t look impressed, “I have no idea.”

Guzmán waves him off and rolls his eyes, “I’d easily win!”

You glance over at Ander and see him staring coldly between the two of you.

“See?” Guzmán pokes you in the ribs unexpectedly as you jump at the contact, “Surprise attack!”

“Guzmán!” You laugh, jumping up from your chair as you try to avoid him.

He reaches out and tickles your sides, making you writhe underneath his touch.

“Stop!” You squeal as he doesnt let up on his jovial attack.

“Still think you’d win huh?” Guzmán smirks, “See Ander, did you change your opinion now?”

At that, Ander pushes up from his desk and walks out of the class. Guzmán drops his attempts of tickling you and stops.

“What happened there?” Guzmán frowns, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” You shake your head, “I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah sure,” Guzmán nods, “See you later.”

You follow Anders path out of the class and find him sitting on one of the couches near the classroom.

“You didn’t get very far,” You comment, standing beside the sofa.

He rolls his eyes, “Is that all that this summer was to you (Y/n)? Just someone to flirt with and fuck until it ended?”

“What are you talking about?”

He shakes his head, not once making eye contact with you, “All of the boys here are practically throwing themselves at you and you seem to not give two shits about the fact that we spent this entire summer together. I guess I thought wrong about you.”

“You know I told Christian I wasn’t interested? He left things alone. I told that boy from gym the same, and that other guy who sits at the back of Maths. And I told Guzmán that I just wanted us to be friends because I already had someone else. I told each and every one of them a reason why it wouldn’t work because that summer did mean something to me,” You confess, “I didn’t expect to see you again Ander, that doesn’t mean that I was just playing around until the last day. And you know that.”

He stands up from the couch, “So your mum got the job?”

You scoff, “Yeah, and I’m living five minutes away from the school.”

He grins, “So when you said I wouldn’t see you again?”

“I told you not to count on it.”

He laughs and pulls you to him, “Then it seems like tennis practice is about to get a lot more interesting.”

[twistedanddecayed]

All Kindsa Trouble

Summary: It’s not often the Winchester’s roll back into town to seek refuge in their safe house but when they do, they bring more questions than answers. Tired of the sexual frustration that’s been building with each flying visit, one drunken phone call is all that’s needed to scratch that long-overdue itch.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader.

Prompt: “you’re drunk. i’m driving you home.”

Words: 2770

Warnings: oral sex (male), Dean’s smutty mouth, mentions of voyeurism.

A/N: So this is for Lisa’s Christmas challenge/follower celebration. It’s not BETA’d so all mistakes are my own. But I saw this gif and couldn’t not (even though while writing this I pictured him in all that season 9 splendour), which resulted in me hating myself on a whole new level.

______

Taking a swig from the half-empty bottle, you savour the delicious burn as you swallow. You’re well on your way to becoming drunk, unsurprising considering you’ve been knocking back the drinks for the most part of the day, but it’s doing nothing to prevent you feeling the chill in the air this evening. You can’t stop the shiver from taking over and you tug your jacket around you a little more as you peer down the street, hoping to spot any oncoming headlights or the distinct engine you’ve come to crave to hear but so far, the road remains deserted and you can’t hear anything from the main adjoining road.

You hadn’t thought Dean would answer, but the temptation to call him had been a little too much and judging by his tone, it was a little too tempting for him to answer too. The bourbon had been whispering dirty and unspeakable things into your ear with each passing hour, cheering you on to press that dial button and rejoiced when you took another shot, said fuck it and listened to the dial tone as you swallowed your pride while waiting for him to answer.

He’d answered quickly, saying your name in a hurry before asking if you were alright. You could barely hear him and so grabbed the bottle you were drinking, stepped out of the bar as you asked him to repeat himself and felt the cool air hit, sobering you enough to hear the slur in your voice when you replied, “I’m fine. Just peachy.”

“Fine my ass,” Dean had growled, “you’re drunk. I’m driving you home. Where are you?”

“I’m sure you remember which bar.” You’d staggered to the wall, feeling everything swaying a little now you were out in the open. He’d told you to stay put before hanging up.

There was something about him that pulled you in. Maybe it’s because both Dean and his brother kept themselves to themselves on the rare occasion they breezed through town, only staying for a week tops before disappearing for months again. The only time they’d leave the property while staying is to go get takeout and more beer - though it wasn’t uncommon to hear the car starting up in the middle of the night and returning just before dawn. Most of the windows were blacked out for complete and utter privacy, they were quiet, never had visitors and their presence brought more questions than they were prepared to answer.

Dean had struck up small talk after catching you off guard, with a rather lacy and expensive lingerie set in your grasp as you were hanging the clean laundry out on the line. He’d rested his arms against the fence, his eyes scanning over your body as he’d run his tongue over his bottom lip before catching it between his teeth.

“I usually have to buy dinner before I get to see those.” He’d quipped and flashed a grin your way. You knew within seconds you were in trouble and your panties were soaked.

He was charming, disgustingly so; complimenting you in one breath and making you want to ride his face in the next. You exchanged flirtatious comments when you’d seen him, marvelled at the way he’d drag his gaze over you, especially when he shouldn’t. You’d caught him on numerous occasions unapologetically watching as you’d dropped your towel after your shower. The first time was a genuine accident, he wasn’t supposed to be back. The house was supposed to be empty and the first time this had happened, you had been left more than red-faced, wishing the ground could open up and swallow you whole to save you from the shame that you’d felt, but you couldn’t forget his reaction.

The way he’d sat forward, dropped the book onto the table beside him and brought the beer bottle to his lips. He’d pulled his gaze away from you momentarily, an act of chivalry, but it was only for a moment and his eyes were back on you once more. You’d knelt to pick up the towel, using it to cover your breasts and letting the rest of it fall down your front, leaving the rest of you exposed. You knew he’d be wanting to see the rest, could now easily picture that naughty lingerie set on you far too clearly, and you’d left him like that, leant forward wanting to see more as you’d drawn the blinds and shut him out. The next few times were not an accident and thinking of Dean slamming his way into the house and fucking you so hard that you’d feel it for days after was how you were able to bring yourself to orgasm for months that followed.

Dean and his brother aren’t the “do you have a cup of sugar?” kind of neighbours but having the two of them there brought a sense of security and safety. Something which proved to be true one night in the local bar. Some jackass who had drunk far too much had decided to get far too handsy, attracting quite a few stares from those surrounding the two of you, yet no-one tried to help. You hadn’t seen Dean enter the bar, but after your fifth refusal to the drunken guy had gone mostly ignored, Dean’s hand had gripped his shoulder, spun him around and connected his fist with his jaw.

Dean had wasted no time in throwing him out, not wanting to make more of a scene than had already been caused before making sure you were OK. He was pumped and more than happy to go back out and finish what he’d started. The veins in his temple and neck had stood out, with the one on his neck demanding to be kissed and fuck did you want to. You were tempted to coax the guy to come back just so you could watch Dean in action once more. Something had switched in him - you’d seen it on his face, the ghost of a smirk on his lips before he’d landed the first punch. He enjoyed it and being honest with yourself, so had you.

Darkness had washed over him and it unnerved you how much you liked it. You’d felt the hot pull within your stomach and your panties became sodden. He’d lost his cool so briefly, with such a calmness that it both alarmed you and made you more aroused than you cared to admit.

He’d made you promise to call him if you were in any sort of trouble and put his number in your cell.

“Is that why you disappear? Too many girls calling in need of your assistance?” You’d tried to joke, though you were eager for any nugget of information he could give about the two of them.

You’d heard Sam scoff behind him and mutter, “you’re not far off with that assumption.” Chuckling at his brother’s comment, Dean wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and replied, “well princess, saving people? That’s kinda our thing.” He didn’t explain further and you didn’t ask.

Until tonight, you hadn’t considered calling as they’d skipped town the day after he gave you his number. You’d heard the purr of Dean’s car pulling up last night and both brothers whisper shouting; deep in an argument that didn’t seem to be ending and certainly, not one which had just begun. They’d slammed into the house and you hadn’t heard from them since, but the beautiful car that you’d pictured Dean fucking you on the backseat of, remained on the driveway before you’d left and that was a good sign.

It wasn’t a long drive from yours to here, nor was it late which meant you’d pulled him from his bed, but the longer you spend sitting outside on the old crumbling brick wall, you’re slowly sobering up. Annoyed, you take several deeper swigs of the burning liquid and sigh. The rumble of the engine alerts you, pulls you from your thoughts and you begin to wonder what the hell you’re going to do now with Dean Winchester when the headlights appear as he turns down the narrow street to where you are

“Whose ass do I need to kick tonight?” he asks as begins to climb out. The businesses here are all closed up for the night, no security cameras are about and the only noise now is from the bar, which is just far enough away to have a bit of privacy but close enough should you need to try and get back there in case anything happened and you needed help. The car door slams and he leans against it, his arms crossed over his chest as he waits for an answer.

“You said I was too drunk to go home alone.” There’s less of a slur to your words now, “there’s no drama tonight. Just you trying to be a hero.”

“Then why’d you call me?” His brows knit together, and he looks back down the street towards the direction you’d come from. It’s still quiet, with no one about but it’s in the wrong part of town. It’s dark and dingy and perfect for public fucking.

“I was horny.” You reply simply with a shrug as you lift the bottle to your lips as you watch him.

“Horny? Yo-you pulled me away because you wanted to get your kicks like some teenager?” He growls and pushes away from the car before yanking the bottle from your hand. “Give me that,” he says while he glances down at the label and nods approvingly before taking a mouthful. “What did you think was gonna happen? I’d come pick you up, you’d tease again like your damn window show and then walk away like nothing happened?”

“You seemed to like those damn window shows.” You bite back, pushing from the wall to stare up at him.

A smirk curves his lips, and you hear the clang of his belt being unbuckled. He puts the whiskey bottle down on the wall and unfastens his jeans quickly, “darlin’ that smart mouth is gonna get you into all kindsa trouble.”

“It’s a good thing you and Sam like saving people then isn’t it?” you know you shouldn’t have replied but you couldn’t help yourself. His hand is on your shoulder, shoving you down onto your knees, while his other hand pulls free his thick cock and strokes over his shaft a few times, causing pre-cum to dot the slit.

“Ah, but Sammy ain’t here tonight sweetheart, now open up.” He barely gives you time to adjust before his cock fills your mouth, knocking you back onto the heels of your feet and has you gripping his thighs for support as you’re almost knocked off balance. You reach up, your hand curling around the base of his cock and without him prompting you to do so, you begin to sink your lips down his cock, swirling your tongue over the tip as you drag your mouth back to the head before repeating. He leans back against the car, his head turning to peer down the road as a commotion sounds outside the bar. “Not my fucking problem.” He hisses as one of his hands fists your hair.

The moan that escapes his lips travels directly to your pussy, making you shift your weight though never breaking pace as you continue to suck his dick. You let go of his thigh and begin to unbutton your jeans, desperate to satisfy the need to climax. The hand gripping your hair loosens ever so briefly as he gives the back of your head a warning slap, “take it all and don’t even fuckin’ think about touching yourself.”

You take more of him as you relax your jaw, enabling him to slip past the back of your mouth and nudge into your throat and hold him there for a moment. He pulses within your throat, his grip on your hair tightens and his hips buck, making you gag around him. Your throat tries to expel him immediately and tears threaten to spill from your lashes and you’re inhaling as much air through your nose as you can as you briefly panic when Dean doesn’t hold up or pull out. Your hand tightens into a fist, trapping your thumb between your fingers and palm and squeeze, bypassing your gag reflex now as you take him further into your throat, your nose pressing to his pubic bone as you take every inch he has to offer. His hips pull back, slipping himself from your lips as his expression darkens as he stares down at you as he bends to your level and grips your jaw, his thumb smears over your lips.

“Now, you listen to me. You don’t ring me up like a cheap-ass booty call and then try this shit. You want to be fucked like a whore? I’m going to need to hear those noises baby. If my dick is in your throat, I’ve earned those gags. I’ve earned the sound of you choking on it and I won’t have you refusing to give them to me.” Smirking, you flick your tongue over his thumb and suck it into your mouth. “You’re going to open, you’re going to give me what I want and once I’ve finished with that pretty little mouth of yours, you’re going to thank me for it.”

Dean stands, his thumb pulls from your mouth with a wet pop before reaching around to the back of your head. You obediently open and he wastes no time in slipping his cock back into your waiting mouth. He provides no build-up. You slacken your jaw the best you can as he thrusts his hips to you. Spit gathers at the corners of your mouth, your eyes begin to water and spill down your cheeks at the same time as your saliva running tracks down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

“So eager earlier for it. And now look at you.”

Your throat contracts around him and all you can do is grip his thighs and waist as he fucks your mouth as though it’s your cunt. His eyes are only on you, watching his thick length penetrate you, feeling the tightening of your throat around his head. He no longer gives a shit if he’s caught. You give him what he desires; the sound of him hitting the back of your throat and each gag as he holds himself there for a moment or two longer than he should. Your nails sink into his thighs, your vision blurs and your chest heaves as you try to breathe.

He pulls his cock from your mouth, just long enough for you to gulp in several large breaths before he’s pushing back into your mouth once more, filling it completely. When you moan, the vein that presses against your tongue pulses, his cock twitches and he hisses. With each drive of his hips, you hollow your cheeks as his balls slap against your chin.

“You’re gonna swallow everything I give you.” He demands, his hands fisting your hair harder. You groan around him, wincing at the pain that shoots through your scalp and the hands that rest against his thighs ball into fists of your own. His eyes lock with yours as his thrusts become erratic and within moments, he’s burying his cock as deeply into your throat as possible, your nose squashing against his skin as he empties everything into you.

Pulling from you, he pulls his clothes back into place and begins to zip himself back up as you get to your feet, wiping the spit from your cheeks and chin as you take him in. “C’mere.” He gestures to you with two fingers and you step towards him. “Spread them,” he instructs, and you do so. Your button remains undone from your feeble attempt at pleasure-seeking and he makes quick work of it, slipping his hand into your panties and pushing two fingers between your soaking folds. The sharp intake of breath and slow whine of his name brings a grin to his face as he thrusts his fingers into you for a few moments before pulling his hand free and pushing them between his lips. You watch his cheek sucks in as he licks them clean and his grin becomes bigger. “I always hoped you’d be good at taking dick and if that fine tasting pussy is anything like your mouth, then you’re in for one hell of a ride tonight.”

[conaionaru]

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

The first letter

Synopsis: Some more fluff, and an ominous message.

Warnings: fluff, Ivar, angst, toxic family, mentions of murder, mentions of child murder, prophecy

Tags:

@xbellaxcarolinax @youbloodymadgenius @shannygoatgruff @lol-haha-joke @queenbeeta @heavenly1927 @didiintheblog​

P.S.   I will be using some Norwegian endearments from here so shout out to the autor @jeglaerenorsk​ for her great work <3. I will also put the meaning behind the words to make it clearer, cause I am gonna forget the meaning right after I post this and will be too lazy to research it for future reference.

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it.

"I get that you want attention, my Little Venn, but your mother is sleeping." Vanya smiled at the raspy voice of her husband as a hand rubbed her five-month bump. She trailed her hand up Ivar's bare chest and looking into his sheepish blue eyes.

"She would be if somebody didn't wake her up. But you are forgiven." The young princess smiled sleepily, kissing her handsome husband on the lips. Ivar drew back and looking at her, her red hair shone thanks to the sunlight hitting it from the window, her eyes were droopy and her tired smile contagious. 

"Lucky me then."

Vanya chuckled at his remark and kissed his brow, her lips lingering there, too tired to move just yet. Ivar pulled her closer to his side with an arm around her shoulders; his other trailed to her hand on his chest. Vanya intertwined their fingers together and played with his worn hand from years of dragging himself around. 

The child inside her moved around gingerly, too awake to let Vanya rest. She felt quite comfortable like this even though the babe was restless, the redhead felt at peace in Ivar's arms, safe and sound from any dangers to come. She had it all wrong in the beginning; Ivar's rage and mood swings aren't a danger to her; they are a danger to others. To those who wish to harm her or their Little Venn, and she drew strength from him. 

Vanya sighed in content as she drew her Ivar's intertwined hands up into the ray of sunlight above them. She watched the light dance on their skin as they both slowly woke up. The princess felt Ivar's eyes on her, so she met his gaze to see love and adoration in them. So soft and vulnerable as they always were when they were alone, and he didn't have to be guarded and mean. "I love you, Hjertet mitt (My heart)." 

Ivar's face lit up in happiness at her confession as he cupped her face in his hand and gazed into her lovely eyes. "Min dyrebare (My precious)." The two slowly rolled out of bed and got ready against their will, which pleaded them to stay in bed and enjoy the presence of each other for the rest of the day. Vanya put on a blue dress with dark teal long sleeves. While Ivar put on his clothes and tied his legs, the princess braided her hair into a crown.

The two made their way to the Great Hall, where Hvitserk, Ubbe, and Sigurd sat together talking about something. By the heated looks Hvitserk sent towards the thralls, Vanya suspected they were talking about Margrethe. And by the girl's nervous and bashful looks, the Saxon was right. "Look who is finally up. How is the child?" 

Vanya smiled at Ubbe's question and put a hand on her stomach. "Were restless this morning. I hope it will calm down soon. Otherwise, I will have to spend the whole day in bed again." 

"Oh, I am sure Ivar wouldn't mind at all." Hvitserk teased; in exchange, Vanya threw a piece of bread at him that he caught in his mouth and grinned in victory. Ubbe chuckled at their antics and pointed at Ivar. "If it is like Ivar, then you won't get any rest at all. He moved around a lot too when Mother was pregnant."

"At least I know who to blame now." Vanya sighed, giving Ivar a halfhearted glare that he paid back with a kiss to her knuckles. He always held her hand at the table now, especially whenever Sigurd opened his mouth. 

"Morning." Aslaug greeted them, sitting down and ordered the thralls to pour her ale. Something was bothering her by the pinched look on her face, and when Bjorn came in later looking agitated, the others wanted answers.

Bjorn sat down on Vanya's left and gave her a letter. "This came by raven at dawn. It has Slegia's seal on it." Vanya's hands froze as soon as the words left the Ragnarsson's mouth. Under her index finger was a bumpy surface. When she turned the letter over, she could see the red wax seal of Slegia - a sun. It has been the sigil of their kingdom for over a hundred years since her ancestor won the property in a tourney and named himself king. Her ancestor Slegc, the First King, laid the last stone of his kingdom during a sunset that painted the sky red, so he put the red sun on a black cloth and named it his sigil.

Now that simple sigil fills Vanya with dread, if Silas is writing to her, it must be something dire. Imagines of her dead mother or kingdom at war flashed in her mind while her hands shook. "Vanya, you don't have to read it." Sigurd's voice cut her from her thoughts; she looked at the concerned faces of her new family and smiled at them reassuringly.

"A letter can't harm me." It was more of a reminder for her than for them. She broke the seal and opened the letter to reveal her brother's neat handwriting. "Dear sister, I write to you in hopes that you are alright. Not a day has passed that I didn't think of you and your wellbeing."

Sigurd and Ivar snorted at the blatant lie Silas wrote, yet Vanya continued reading, fearing if she dared to stop, she wouldn't find the courage to start again. "Mother's array of visitors has allowed us to strengthen our forces. You might also be happy to know that King Ecbert offers us support if any of the other opposing kingdoms dares to attack us. We were all very worried about you since there has been no news from you since your wedding five months ago. So we were all delighted to hear that you are not only well, but also with child. I wish you and your husband a healthy child and a happy marriage. To reassure myself and Mother of your wellbeing, I will visit you when time allows it." Vanya swallowed the foul taste on her tongue as her hands trembled.

"With all my love, King Silas of Slegia, son of Kind Osmond, first of his name." Vanya slowly set the letter back down at the table and looked at the Ragnarssons and Aslaug in worry. 

"How does he know you are with child?" Ivar asked his brows knitted together in anger. Vanya shrugged as she squeezed his hand in fear, her face as pale as snow with her eyes glassy.

Bjorn slammed his cup down on the table and glared at his plate. "There must be a spy here. That's the only way; we never announced the pregnancy to anyone outside Kattegat."

"It could have been merchants as well. They could have mentioned it in England, and words travel fast. It may have reached Silas within a week." Aslaug pointed out, ordering Margrethe to refill her empty cup. 

"It doesn't matter how they know; what matters is that he wants to come here. I don't get why. What are his intentions?" Sigurd asked, staring at the letter like it personally offended him. He heard enough about Silas to know the man was no good. 

Ivar slammed his hand against the wood and snarled like an angry beast. "He means to make sure it is mine, of course. He chose me because I am a cripple, now that Vanya is with child, he is in danger. But if it is a bastard, it would benefit him."

"Why should he care about that?" Hvitserk asked curiously, not understanding the point. How could an unborn child endanger a king a land away? 

Something clicked in Vanya's mind, connecting Ivar's statement to what she knew of her brother. "A girl wouldn't, but a son might. If I bear a son, he would have a claim to Slegia's throne. Silas has no child yet, and with his disinterest in finding a wife, there might never be one. But his nephew would have a claim to the throne, and if he wished to, he could take the crown from him and any heirs he might have."

"That's why he mentions the armies and King Ecbert; it's a threat. And now that he knows his plan of choosing Ivar didn't work, he wants to make sure if the child is a danger to him or not." Bjorn agreed, sighing in anger and exhaustion. Silas showing up to snoop around with an army would delay his journey to the Meditteranean greatly. 

Ivar scoffed and crumbled the offending letter throwing it to the ground while Vanya sat there unmoving, looking at the empty space. All her earlier illusions of safety were pitiful; she thought that she was safe with Silas so far away. But he kept on destroying her life even now. "We will keep all warriors and shieldmaidens here; I can aks Mother for support if we need it. She will be happy to help us when it comes to a pregnant woman. The question is, when will he come?" Bjorn uttered thinking of ways to protect Kattegat, the people, Vanya, and his nephew all at once.

"Well, that's a good question. But Silas offers no answer. /I will visit you when time allows it./ What does that mean?" Ubbe urged, pointing at the crumpled letter on the ground. 

"It means he wants us to worry, which is what we mustn't do. Especially you Love, it is bad for your child. Let us take care of all that." Aslaug reassures Vanya smiling at the scared ginger, but Vanya shook in disagreement.

"Silas is my brother; he is threatening my child and me." The Saxon explained thinking of her brother's sneer and her bruises and foul words she received from him over the years. 

Hvitserk shrugged his shoulders, trying to find a silver lining in the whole thing to reassure his brother and sister in law. "What if it isn't a threat at all?"

"And what would it be then, Hvitserk? What do you think he will do if the child is a boy? Do you think he will ignore it and sail away? Killing my child would put an end to any problems that the child might cause for him!" Vanya hated the way it sounded, but Ivar was right. Silas won't ignore any threats to his crown; he killed people for less. An unborn child or a babe at his mother's breast wouldn't be that hard to kill. She shuddered at the image and leaned against Ivar for support while laying her hands on her belly.

Ivar pulled his wife closer and rubbed her sides to calm her frantic heartbeat. He was terrified for them both, which made him angry. How was he supposed to protect them? He couldn't fight and kill Silas; he was no good on the battlefield without any legs. 

"They will ride under a red sun painted with the blood of the Forest King," Vanya said sullenly, remembering the prophecy that sometimes haunted her dreams. "The red sun is Slegia's sigil."

"Does that make Silas the King of the Forest?" Sigurd questioned, amused by the irony if it was true.

Vanya nodded to their surprise as she looked at them with newfound hope. "Silas means forest! It was never about a King of the forest; it was about the meaning."

"That's nice and all, but does the prophecy say anything about how we kill him?" Bjorn insisted not that satisfied with the reveal. 

Ubbe groaned at the lack of answers and looked at his mother. She has the gift of foresight; maybe she saw something. But Aslaug shook her head, noting to pray to the Gods for answers later on. "We know that the snake that the child holds in its hand is Silas. And the Seer said that the price for greatness is Vanya's blood. Silas is Vanya's blood as well. The prophecy is about him, and it ends in victory that much is certain."

Vanya exhaled slowly to steady; her nerves shook her head. "He said that I need to endure, not that I will win. Or that Silas is the asked prize." The room was quiet and solemn as they tried to think of answers for the oncoming danger. 

"Whatever it is... We will protect you." Ubbe promised as the others agreed. But it did little to reassure her, Silas was a risk she didn't want to take. But one thing was sure; he needed to die, or she would never be free. 

[chuckbass-love]

Hey! Can I request a Chris Evans x reader fluff where she gets all cuddly every time he wears sweaters and he notices and teases her over it? Thanks! I love your writing 💕

Of course. I hope you love this! Also thank you for requesting and also for reading my stuff. i really appreciate the feedback and love!

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 918

Warnings: Lots of fluff...

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @forchrisevans go check them out💕

Cable Knit Loving

You stir a little before finally waking up and realising that your boyfriend is no longer next to you like he was before you fell asleep. You sit up, looking around the room, wondering where he could have gotten to.

“Chris” 

He suddenly appears, coming from the direction of your bedroom. 

“I had to get up to shower and change, i didn’t want to wake you so i just left you to it” he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

He’s wearing a grey cable knit sweater, your favourite look on him. You can’t help but get the urge to pull him down for more cuddles but you know you need to shower and get ready yourself. You pout as you stand up and make your way to the bathroom.

Once you rush through your shower and quickly changed into some casual clothes you strut into the kitchen to find your boyfriend making himself some coffee. 

You move closer to him, pressing your chest to his back as your arms wrap round him and you place your hands to his chest. 

“Can we please go cuddle?” 

“Not right now” you pout once again.

“But please, i just want a-”

“I’m busy today Y/N”

You don’t even know what it is but Chris in cable knits is like heaven to you. 

He looks so good in them, his biceps bulging in the sleeves and he just looks so cuddly. You could literally lie on his chest all day and be satisfied. 

“Fine. I’ll stop bugging you” you stomp away, making your way to the couch and flicking through Netflix on the TV. 

“Babe come on”

“No Chris” 

You eventually pick F.R.I.E.N.D.S to watch and you press play on a random episode. Chris walks past you and over to his laptop, he sips at his coffee and starts typing away. 

He was always busy lately. With this whole corona virus stuff, he hasn’t had a break, always doing interviews or communicating with his manager and agent. You just hope that he can find time for you at some point today.

A girl can dream.

----------------------

You’ve now been watching Netflix for so long that the reminder pops up on the screen to ask if you’re still watching. You click yes, letting out a sigh loud enough for him to hear.

“What is is sweetheart?” 

Your head lifts up to look in his direction as he finally speaks to you.

“I feel like i’ve barely seen you today” 

“I’m done now, i’m coming” 

A huge smile forms it’s way onto your face as you see him shut his laptop and walk his sweater wearing ass over to you. 

He lies down on the couch, tapping his chest for you to come cuddle him. You don’t need telling twice. 

You rest your head down onto his chest, draping your arm across him and tangling your legs in his. 

You hum to yourself at the feeling of him being close to you like this, especially since he’s in this sweater. 

“What’s got you so chirpy?” he chuckles as you hum. 

“I’m just happy to be cuddling, it’s about time”

“We cuddled earlier before i showered”

“I fell asleep so it doesn’t count. You didn’t help things”

He lifts your head up to look into your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing”

You can’t help but feel a little embarrassed, it’s so silly though. You have a thing for his sweaters. When he wears them it’s like you just want to tackle him to the ground and cuddle him all day and night. 

He gives you a look that says ‘tell me’ 

You sigh “I just really like it when you wear these sweaters, it just makes me feel good and i just want to cuddle you like all day whenever you wear them” you ramble, avoiding his gaze and awaiting the teasing.

He starts to laugh “wait, but why?”

You roll your eyes. 

“Baby, don’t be like that”

“You’re making fun of me. it’s just something silly but i can’t help it”

“Exactly, it’s silly. Is this what all the sighing and whining has been about?” you nod at him and he continues to laugh.

“This is nowhere near as funny as the time you asked to ride my fist”

Typical Chris, bringing up some of the things you’ve asked to try out with him in the past.

You try to get off of him to stand up but he pulls you back down, trying to stop his laughing fit. 

“I’m sorry” 

You know he’s just confused about your obsession. 

“You just look so attractive and strong. The way your biceps bulge in the sleeves but you also look cute and it just drives me crazy. I can’t help but want you near me”

“Well if it’s what you like then come cuddle baby” you smirk as you lay your head back down, resuming your previous position. 

You hear his heart beating as you just lie there in silence, a comfortable silence that is. 

Minutes pass by...

You feel his chest moving and his contagious laugh fall from his mouth.

You slap his chest playfully.

“Shut it Evans” 

“I’m sorry”

You spend the rest of the day with him laughing and teasing you and despite your initial embarrassment, you soon forget about it as you have what you want. Your boyfriend in a cable knit sweater, underneath you and watching TV. 

The perfect way to spend a day with him.

[savedbystyle]

cruel summer (b.b)

pairing: highschool!bucky barnes x reader

warning: angst, death of major character

summary: falling in love was scary, but thrilling especially when it was with bucky barnes

a/n: this is the second part to the lover series!!! i have received such positive feedback about i forgot that you existed and OMG it makes me incredibly happy:) also i know that during the times bucky went to high school it was all white students BUT that would suggest a white reader, and my aim is to make the reader as fitting to YOU as possible. I get it i’m indian and the pain, but yeah so were just gonna pretend were in those times but with todays diversity:)

song: cruel summer by taylor swift 

gif credits to original creator

****

Fever dream high In the quiet of the night You know that I caught it

You were walking through the halls with your friends June and Sara, careful not to bump into anyone. “I can’t believe that you and Connor are going out Sara” June said with a big smile on her face. “Oh for lord’s sake June, calm down its not that big of a deal” “Oh Sara darling, it IS! I mean Connor is one of the most well known boys in school plus he’s as cute as a bug’s ear” 

You laugh at the banter between June and Sara when you accidentally bump into someone.You bend down to pick up your books, but not before someone does it for you. You stand up and look at the attractive man standing in front of you. Your eyes meet the steel blue eyes in front of you. “I’m sorry doll, didn’t mean to hurt ya there. I’m Bucky” you smiled at him “I know, Bucky. My name is y/n, thanks for helping me” You smiled at the attractive man in front of you and made your way back to your gaping friends. “That was-” June paused “Bucky Barnes” Sara completed for her friend. “Oh stop it you’re gonna get flies in your mouth. He’s just a boy, now come on we gotta get to our class” What you didn’t notice was Bucky staring at you and your friends, a small smile etched onto his face. 

Bad, bad boys Shiny toy with a price You know that I bought it

Throughout the week, you never saw Bucky again. It didn’t bother you, but you didn’t mind seeing that gorgeous face of his. Your class had just ended and it was time to go home. You were walking home when you heard someone shout behind you. You turned around to see Bucky, running towards you with a smile on his face. “Hey there doll” he said panting, trying to catch his breath. “Hello James, what is it?” He raised his eyebrow when you called him James, but excused it. “You’re such a pretty dame you know that” He said, smiling even bigger when he saw the blush take over your face. 

“Thank you James, but you’re not here to tell me that are you?” “No doll, uh, I was wondering if you’d let me take you out sometime?” Your heart skipped a beat, but you doubted the words considering you’ve never talked to him before. “This ain’t a joke, is it James cause that wouldn’t be very nice” “No, I promise doll. Let me take you out” You looked up at his face and noticed the genuine look “Fine. This Friday after class, alright? I got Miss Jamie last” You left him on the side of the road, continuing your walk home, smiling and excited about your date.   

Killing me slow, out the window I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below

It was Friday, and you were tapping your foot anxiously, waiting for the bell to ring out. “Remember, you all have to read Act 3 Scene 1 of the Great Gatsby by Monday’s class!” Miss Jamie told your class as the bell rang. Your heart was racing as you got your books in your arms and waited to get out the door. When you got out you could see Bucky’s head perk up, noticing you. He smiled, and you returned it with a shy one. “Hey doll, you ready?” He asked, holding out his hand for you to take. “Yeah James, lets go” 

The two of you walked to the diner all the couples in high school went to, and sat down at a booth. The waiter approached your table and asked what the two of you would like “Can we have an all the way please” “Sure, that’ll be right out” You smiled at Bucky, but hesitating to ask the questions you’ve been dying to know. “James, can I ask why me? I mean you’ve never talked to me before” “Y/n, you’re the first person who didn’t go out of their way to talk to me. It gets tiring you know? But I can tell you’re a special one” You smiled at him and you two talked the day into the night, and the waiter could tell that the twi of you were already in love. 

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

After that date, you and Bucky went on many more. Even during school Bucky would hold you by your waist, or when you’re going to your next class he’d sneak up on you and sneak a kiss leaving you blushing. You even met Bucky’s best friend, Steve Rogers, who was one of the most honest and kindhearted men you ever met. You met Steve’s dame as well, Peggy Carter, and the four of you quickly became a close knit group, doing everything together. Of course, you would ask to bring your best friends along, who quickly approved of Bucky seeing as he made you happy. 

You went home that day and decided to tell your parents about your new partner. You opened the door and saw your mother sitting on the couch watching some television and your father who had come home early reading the day’s newspaper. “Hi darling, how was your day?” your mother asked approaching you and kissing your forehead. “It was great ma, hi papa” Your father said hi and smiled at you, patting the now empty seat besides him signaling for you to come sit. “Uh, ma, papa? I’ve been meaning to tell y’all something. I’m going out with James Barnes now” Your mom had a smile on her face, while your dad’s expression didn’t change. “Papa?” You asked, your voice quiet “I will not allow it, you’re still too young y/n” “Nonsense y/f/n, we met each other at the same time” Your mother butted in “I said I won’t allow it” He met your eyes, and you rushed out the door trying to get to Bucky’s as fast as you can. When you found him, you started crying and pulled him close to your chest. “Doll, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, comforting you “My papa, he doesn’t want me seeing you. Say’s i’m too young to see people” you say in between tears. “I just wanted him to like you, James” “Hey doll, it gonna be alright. We’ll make it work, alright? I’d do anything for ya” You looked up at him, and pulled him down to meet your lips.

And it's new The shape of your body, it's blue The feeling I've got And it's ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer  

Your school year had ended, meaning that the both of you were about to go to university now. You had gotten into Columbia considering both your parents were alumni, but Bucky on the other hand decided to enlist in the army. “Bucky, I swear you’re nuts” you walked across his room back and forth “Why would you do that? Why would you enlist in the army James?” Bucky winced. You had stopped calling him James, but rather Bucky so when you called him James he knew he was in trouble. “Doll, I thought you’d be more supportive of me” He said, dropping his head. 

You fell silent, and went to sit beside him “I am proud of you Bucky, honest” “Then what is it, doll?” he asked voice breaking. You replied eyes full of tears for the unknown “I’m scared that one day, someone is gonna come knockin on my door and tell me that the last time I saw you was truly the last time. I’m scared that you’re gonna get shot and hurt, and you will spend the rest of your life upset over it. I’m scared that when I kiss you goodbye at the train station, its the last time i’ll ever kiss you and see you Buck. I’m just scared of loosin you” you admitted, tears streaming down your face. Bucky was crying as well know. He lifted your face to meet your eyes, and kissed you with as much vigor as he could. “Doll, no matter what, I will always come back home to you” You kissed him, not letting him go. And that night ended up with you two sleeping in each other’s arms.

It's cool That's what I tell 'em, no rules In breakable Heaven but Ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer With you

That entire summer, the both of you spent almost all of it together. Day after day, Bucky would take you out on a date sometimes with Steve and Peggy, but most times just the two of you. You enjoyed every moment you had with the love of your life, refusing to thing about when he get’s deployed. You enjoyed strawberry sundaes, and ferris wheels at the fair. You even went to the Stark Expo, where the both of you had the time of your lives. You had later found out from Steve that he had secretly enlisted in the army as well and got in. That night, you and Bucky yelled at Steve but later pulled him into a hug. “I swear to god punk if you hurt yourself” “I will personally come over and kill you Steve” you said jokingly. Steve chuckled “I promise I will be alright” 

When Steve went home, Bucky and you went to the roof of his apartment and laid down watching the stars. “Darling, i’m leaving next week for the army” You got up and looked at Bucky “Buck, I thought it was the end of the summer?” “They needed us to do some extra training for the war darlin. I promise I will write to you everyday, not a chance i’d miss it” You scooted closer to him and put your head on his chest. “I’m countin on it James” 

I'm drunk in the back of the car And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh) Said, "I'm fine", but it wasn't true I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I, snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed, "For whatever it's worth" "I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

It was the week after you dropped Bucky off at the train station, and you missed him so much. He sent his first letter two days back, sending his dog tag along with it. He wrote, 

Hi Doll,

     Every night I lie awake thinkin of you darlin. There isn’t a day that goes by where you don’t cross my mind. I remember the first time we met, and I now know that that was the first day I fell in love with you. I fell in love with the strong, independent woman you are. I fell in love with kindhearted woman you are. I fell in love with you. I love you y/n y/l/n and I hope you love me too. I am giving you one of my dog tags so you always have something of mine to wear. I promise you when I come back, i’m marrying you doll. I know I should be telling you this in person but I feel the need to tell you know. I hope you have a great day doll. I miss you a lot. 

Yours truly, 

James (Bucky) Barnes

You felt a tear trail down your cheek as you held the dog tag close to your heart. It felt as if he was still there with you, and you murmured “I love you, Bucky Barnes” The two of you wrote for months on end, until one day an officer knocks on your door telling you that him and his regiment were captured by the opposing side. They called it Hydra. But you didn’t care for the name, you cried for Bucky and his safety. You missed him. You had also found out that Steve was injected with the serum and became plenty rugged. Meanwhile, you were at school continuing your studies like you know Bucky would’ve wanted you to do.  

It's cool That's what I tell 'em, no rules In breakable Heaven but Ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer With you

You heard a knock on your door and went to open it. Standing in all his glory was the love of your life. You flung your arms around Bucky, smelling his cologne you grew to love. “Bucky, oh lord, I thought you died” you sobbed into his shoulder and pulled away to see his face. He smiled, caressing your face pulling you into a kiss. “Steve saved us, doll. I’m alright” “I love you Bucky, and whenever you choose to I will marry you” He smiled kissing you again as if it was the last time he could. The two of you spent the entire night surrounded by the others naked body, memorizing each and every curve and scar. When Bucky left again, you had a little more hope this time that he would come back to you. The letters never ended, until they did one day. 

You heard a knock on your door, letting the person know you were coming. You opened the door to see a shattered looking Steve holding Bucky’s uniform. “Bucky, uh, fell off a train during a mission. Y/n, I tried to catch him but I couldn’t” Steve was sobbing, and you put a hand on your mouth not believing this cruel joke the universe played on you. “Oh Steve” The both of you held on to each other, the last piece of Bucky both of you had. Both of you mourned for the loss of a best friend, the loss of the love of your life. 

A couple of weeks later, you went to the place Steve was at to surprise him. You saw Peggy and went over to her. “Hey Pegs, have you seen Steve” Her eyes started watering and she sighed before gaining her composure. “Captain Steve Rogers went down in the Arctic last week. I had assumed you had found out, but i’m sorry y/n. Steve’s gone” You were numb, you felt no pain. First the love of your life, and now your best friend. You went home that day and cried for the loss of America’s heroes. You mumbled to yourself, “It’s been a cruel summer with you, Bucky Barnes”.  

slang used: 

all the way: chocolate or fudge cake with ice cream

cute as a bug’s ear: very cute

doll and dame: a woman

nuts: crazy

[jungshookz]

a thought just came to me and i had to share- ceo y/n finding pics of yoongi in college (think 2013/14 yoongi) and lOSING HER MIND then finding out he used to be a soundcloud rapper in his spare time and she’s just is just like wtf!!?!?! bc he is a COMPLETELY different person and old age rly changes a person

→ pairing: min yoongi x reader

→ genre: ceo!yoongiverse!!!!! y/n is all heart-eyes emoji over uni!yoongi!!! and she can’t believe he bleached his hair once upon a time!!!!! 

→ wordcount: 1.9k

→ note: hi i LOVEd this and i had to write a drabble for it and also i want everyone to know that i have a rly big crush on 2013 yoongi 

(gif isn’t mine!)

                                           ★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

you don’t know how you’ve never stumbled across this box before

but oh boy

you just hit the jackpot babY

it was an accident, really

you were just trying to find one of hwayoung’s spare blankies because she’s spending the night with jimin (it’s date night for you and yoongi!!!)  

so you went into the storage room and started going through the boxes because you couldn’t find it in her closet

and this shoe-box certainly didn’t look like a blanket was going to be in it but you figured it wouldn’t hurt to check

and that’s when you found the hidden treasure

“what… in the world…?” you whisper to yourself as you pull out a dusty CD

you flip it over to read what’s scribbled on the front

‘agust d - mixtape by suga’

“mixtape by suga.” you mutter before narrowing your eyes and giving the cover photo a reaLLy good look

is that…,,.,. is that yoongi?

you recognise his eye lol

…but also why is his hair bleaCHed

you shake your head and set it aside before continuing to rummage through the shoe box

the next thing you pull out is a vEry worn out looking notebook

oOH

is it a journal

journals are supposed to be personal but let’s be real

ur super nosy

you probably won’t be able to read anything but you’ll look through it anyways lolz

you flip through it and your brows knit together when you notice that these aren’t diary entries

they’re.,.,. song lyrics

most of them are in korean (obviously) so unfortunately you have no idea what you’re reading but luckily there are some english lines

“…my tongue technology?” you tilt your head

what does that even mean

okay

how about the little stack of polaroids  

let’s just take a look…

“oh my god. oh my god!!!!” you practically squEal as you flip through the stack  

oh my goodness!!!!!!

a baby!!!!!

he looks so young!!!!!!!!

jesus he’s cute

not that he’s not cute anymoRE but like

wowie

anyways

maybe you’ll give the cd a listen after jimin comes by to pick hwayoung up

you can’t help but wonder why yoongi’s never showed you this stuff before

you tuck the photos back in the box before picking it up with you as you get up off the ground

you can’t waIt til he gets back >:-)

“y/n?”

you perk up when you hear the front door slam shut and reach down to turn the stove down on a little

time to get this show on the road

you wipe your hands off on the tea towel before scurrying out of the kitchen to greet ur hardworking husband

“jimin swung by to pick hwayoung up already?” yoongi furrows his brows when he spots hwayoung’s playpen with nO hwayoung in it

darn!!

he was hoping to see her before she left for the night

“mm, you just missed him.” you smile softly and yoongi leans in to press his mouth against yours in a sweet kiss “how was your day?”

you giggle softly when he circles an arm around your waist and starts planting teasing kisses down your jaw

“it was okay… you know, the usual.” he pulls away to give you a quick kiss before pulling his suit jacket off “how was yours?”

“it was alright.” you shrug and bend down to pick his backpack up off the floor “i wrapped hwayoung’s hair up in a little ice-cream towel after i washed her hair and i took a picture of it to show you!!! dinner will be ready soon but… do you want any tea or anything?” you hum and plop his bag down on the couch

“mm, i’m good.” yoongi loosens his tie and shakes his head “i’m going to hop in the shower… you should join me.” he suggests slyly and reaches over to wrap his fingers around your wrist

you giggle when he leans in to kiss u again and the back of your knees hit the arm of the couch as he pushes you back gently

“i have to keep an eye on dinner”

“just turn the stove down for a while” yoongi hums and hooks a finger into the waistband of your shorts

you smack his arm gently

“gO take a shower… suga.”

yoongi freezes

he pulls away from you and his dark brows knit together

did you just-

is he having hearing problems or something because he swoRE he just heard you say-

“what did you just call me?”

you wiggle out of his grip

“i don’t know, agust d. what did i just call you?” you bend down and pull a shoebox out from underneath the coffee table

yoongi pales

o god

a smile creeps onto your face and yoongi pales when you flip the lid off before pulling out a vEry familiar looking notebook and CD out from it

o gOD

hoW DID YOU-

“where did you find that?”

“in the very, very back of the closet.” you sigh happily and open up the notebook

yoongi immediately reaches over but you move away before he gets the chance to snatch it from you

there’s a moment of silence

all of a sudden he practically lunGEs for the box but you grab it and hug it to your chest before scurrying to the other end of the couch

yoongi lets out a groan

“y/n.” he raises a brow “hand me the box and nobody gets hurt.”

you take a step towards the staircase

yoongi does the same

“over.. my… dead… bODY-!” you immediately make a sprint for the staircase and yoongi hOT on your trail

you’re practically cackling with glee as you bound up the stairs before bursting into the bedroom

“give it to me you brAT-“

before you get a chance to shut the door you feel yoongi’s arm snake around your waist and pull you backwards and the box goes fLying up into the air before it (thankfully) lands on the bed

“you know i already looked through the box, right?” you laugh lightly and glance back at yoongi

he lets out a quiet groan “…of course you did.”

“i couldn’t help it!!!!” you sit down on the edge of the bed and yoongi sits down on the other end

“and i bet you have a lot of questions for me, don’t you?”

“oh, i have a million questions for you, suga.”

the two of you start cleaning up the tiny mess and you smile lightly as you pick up another picture

yoongi clears his throat

“back in uni i used to…” he pauses as he flips through his notebook

it’s so weird going through this book again after years of it collecting dust in the closet

it’s weird thinking that he could’ve become a rapper instead of a businessman lol

“i used to be a soundcloud rapper and stuff buT i don’t know it’s not a big deal and also looking back it’s actually kind of embarrassing liKE i wrote a line in one of my songs about taking someone to hong kong because of my tongue technology but-“

“how old were you in these pictures??” you coo as you look through some more of the pictures

what a heartthrob!!!!!!!

yoongi leans over to look at the photo

he purses his lips in thought

“like… 20?“

aH

so he would’ve been in his third year of university in these pictures

…oh you definitely would’ve had a crush on him if you guys went to uni together

if he was in his third year yoU would’ve been in your first year

you snort at the thought of 18 year old you drooling over 20 year old yoongi

it’s not much different to 24 year old you drooling over 26 year old yoongi now but still

“now, c’mon. put that away so we can go and take a shoWer-“

you gasp when you look at this next picture

jesus chRIST

you flip it around so yoongi can look at it and his face flushes

“…are you wearing makeup?”

“…it wasn’t mY idea okaY-“

“take it easy on the eyeliner next time!!!” you cackle as you hop up on the bed and wave the pictures around “oh yoongi you hAVe to let me frame these-“

you start bouncing up and down on the bed and yoongi snorts

“you are a child-“

“A to the G to U to the STD, A to the G to U to the sTD-“ you pump your arm up into the air as you continue bouncing around wildly “-woAH-“

yoongi whaCks the back of your knees and you buckle immediately

you can’t help but grin as you flop down on the bed and land on your back

you love teasing yoongi normally and noW you have so much new material to work with

yoongi settles in between your legs and pins an arm above your head

“you are insufferable.”

“it’s nothing to be embarrassed about!! i actually think it’s kinda sexy” you hum and reach up to run a hand through his hair

he hums and turns to press a kiss to your palm when you cup his cheek

“you do not think it’s sexy.”

“no, i’m serious!! are you kidding me?? 18 year old y/n would’ve dropped to her knees for you like that if she found out you were a somewhat successful soundcloud rapper.”

yoongi snorts and rolls his eyes as he crawls off of you and gets off of the bed “cut it ouT y/n”

you grin

you will never cut it out

in fact you’re going to amp it up a little bit just because you :) like :) pushing :) yoongi’s :) buttons

you watch as he starts to unbutton his shirt and you toss the pictures aside before getting on your hands and knees and crawling towards him

“aw, come on… i’m just an innocent little freshman who wants you to take her back to your soundproof studio-“ you purr and get up on your knees

you lean in and press your mouth against yoongi’s as your fingers undo a button

“oh yeah? what else do you want?”

a little role-play never hurts and yoongi will very happily play along

“want you to take me to hong kong with your tongue technology-” 

yoongi immediately lets out a groan

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble tag

[scribeofmorpheus]

Dangerous Liaisons Part 6

Catch Up here!

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Words: 3888 (It’s a long one guys)

Rating: L for Strong language! Is that even a rating?

A/N: Okay, this took me a while to finish because I kept getting distracted. Editing? What editing? Just ignore my errors for now! But! I really enjoyed the dynamics in this one. Writing for Karen and Ward was the most fun I’ve had in a while. Especially, the dark side of our heroine! Not a lot of Billy sadly, but he’s front and centre in the next chapter... and so is the prickly family dynamic! (I also tagged some new people to this update, hope you don’t mind). Don’t be afraid to ask to be tagged! Sidenote: I’ve been waiting forever to use this gif.

***

You made your way through the busy offices of the Bulletin. The room was buzzing with life. Employees in middle-class dress smarts hovered around from desk to desk. Some had files in hand, others typed away brutally at the clunky, old computer keys. The atmosphere was electric… productive. As a kid, your father had spent many hours dealing with interviews and alike, but always in the comfort and security of his own home. He always liked having the high ground, made reporters feel uneasy in unwelcome spaces. Except for this one reporter, Ben Urich.

You had been barely out of your teen years when you had watched through ajar doors as your Father lost his iron-clad composure after being accused of something malicious by the straight-shooting reporter. You had never seen anyone rattle your Father to that extent. Ben Urich had gained your respect in that moment, and it wasn't until this very moment that you realised just how much you admired him for that. The irony of Karen Page working for the same newspaper as the one reporter you respected did not escape you.

"Can I help you?" asked a balding man with a salt and pepper beard and drooping eyes. He was cleaning his glasses using his tie as he stood like a man of authority next to a door labelled:  'EDITOR' with a name underneath written: 'Mitchel Ellison'.

"Mitchel Ellison, I presume?"

"Just Ellison," he extended his hand once his glasses were fixed back onto his face. You shook it. "Still haven't answered my question." He said plainly.

"Ah, yes sorry. My name is Y/N Y/L/N." He raised a brow at the mention of your last name. He recognised you then.

"Ah, the elusive heiress to Armistice Security," he said knowingly.

You shouldn't have been surprised. Your Father was Carl Kurogawa, CEO and founder of one of the leading military contracting companies. The press loved him and after Henry's death… well, more and more people were digging into your family's history. That's one of the reasons you legally changed your last name to your mother's maiden name.

"Since my Father and I don't share the same last name, I'm inclined to correct you on that front. I have no affiliations with Armistice Security," You said rather harshly.

"If that were true you'd have sold your shares a long time ago," he retorted quickly. No doubt Ellison had a hard time trusting people, but at least he called things as he saw them.

You sighed, "I'm here to see Karen Page. I called earlier about giving her an exclusive."

"What about?"

You smirked, "Sorry, that's privileged information. You'll just have to find out about it in the editorial room." Ellison huffed lazily, you amused him a little.

"Her office is right through there," He pointed down the hall and to the right.

"Thank you." You smiled flatly.

You knocked on the door with a sign covered by masking tape with the name Karen P. written on it. It was obscuring the name of whoever owned this office space before her.

"Just a second," a soft female voice spoke out.

Impatient, as always, you opened the door anyway. Karen was about to speak from behind her laptop screen, but upon seeing you, her face had a confused look plastered on it.

"Who?--" She squinted her eyes trying to remember. She didn't seem to recognise you. Being in a room full of reporters who usually could pick you out in a crowd, this was certainly a refreshing first. A laugh tried to trickle out of you but you held it back and instead chose to introduce yourself.

You held out your hand, "Y/N Y/L/N. We have an appointment today..." Karen still had a hard time placing you, this time you did giggle. "The Rand Enterprise exclusive about expansion in Hong Kong."

And suddenly, like lightning hitting its mark, Karen finally put two and two together.

"Of course, sorry," She returned your handshake. "I've been swamped lately, and as you probably deduced for yourself, I'm a little new at this." She gestured to her desk filled with overflowing, loose paperwork.

"Reporting or an efficient filing system?" you joked. She laughed awkwardly.

"Both," she sat down and gestured to the chair in front of her desk for you to have a seat. "Which is why I am a little apprehensive as to why you chose me to handle such a story. In fact, why the New York Bulletin? Isn't the Hong Kong expansion something a business magazine would kill to get an exclusive on?"

You smirked, "Oh, it is. Which is why I'm not giving the exclusive to a business magazine. Also, I read some of your other stories. You tend to be discrete about who your sources are when they want to keep things hush, hush."

Karen pulled out a notepad and pen, clicking it once to jot down something on her notepad.

"Why the secrecy? It's not like you're reporting on anything the company doesn't want the world to know… right?"

"I'm just… beating a colleague to the punch," You felt proud at the prospect of Ward reading this exclusive in a small newspaper after he had spent months preparing to give this exclusive to the Wall Street Journal. The look on his face when he finds out he doesn't have an exclusive anymore filled you with delight.

"Sounds alarmingly ambiguous."

"It sounds like an exclusive."

Karen took hint of your tone and cleared her throat, "Okay, so what can you tell me about Ward Meachum's new merger deal?"

You crossed your legs and leaned back, but made sure not to look too comfortable. "For starters, I can tell you it's not Ward Meachum's merger. He shook hands and posed for photo ops but they were my contacts and it was my project. I worked in Hong Kong for several years before I returned. Suffice to say, I had the means, Ward had the poster boy look."

Without skipping a beat, Karen jotted down on her notepad in shorthand. You were curious to read what she had written down, but this story wasn't what was important right now. You needed to gain her trust and get her guard down before asking about the incident with General Schoonover.

"Why did you leave Hong Kong?"

"I'm sorry?"

Karen plastered on a genial smile, "You mentioned your posting in the Hong Kong offices as being your primary qualification for spearheading this merger. If you managed to accumulate such good connections, why leave such a promising post? Wasn't accepting the post at Rand a step down?"

Karen was a sly one, this explained why someone with no background in journalism got ahead so quick. She was fishing for two stories in one interview. The Rand scoop and why you were offering her the Rand scoop. You made a mental note not to underestimate her. "This story isn't about me, Miss Page."

"Is it not? You’re not a disgruntled employee as far as I can tell. And giving a small newspaper access to such an exclusive doesn't make much sense unless you're trying to gain all the credit, but that wouldn't exactly help moral at the workplace if they found out you leaked the story. And unless you're Mr Meachum's scorned lover--"

You snorted a little at the insinuation of you being Ward's scorned lover. "You want to know what I get out of this. What my angle is."

"To be frank, yes."

"That's easy Miss Page. An ally at a respectable paper. That's something of great value in my line of work."

"In corporate legalities or military law?"

You smiled. Karen had just given away her ace in the hole. She had done research on you, which meant she knew exactly who you were when you walked into her office. She really was a sly one. "In a competitive corporate world."

You both exchanged a look that carried the fake pleasantry smiles not uncommon with most of your social interactions, but both you and Karen's eyes held a glare that spoke volumes. It was a look of respectful rivalry and cautiousness.

"Look, Miss Page--"

"Karen is fine."

"Okay, Karen. We can spend hours going round in circles, continuing this verbal detente with one another, or you can ask what you really want to ask me and save us both some time."

"It's the same question. Why me? And no bullshit. Why come to me, out of all the other more qualified and respected reporters? Why come all the way down to Hell’s Kitchen?"

"To be honest. My father hates this newspaper. And my boss is an ass. So if I can manage to serve a big ol‘ 'fuck you' to the both of them, it's a win-win for me." Karen seemed pleased with your answer. "But, there is one other reason."

"Yes?"

"The Punisher."

Karen froze for a second, you noticed her battling for control to remain unreadable.

"Whatever do you mean?" She asked, trying to seem oblivious to what you were implying.

"You are the one who wrote of his demise, did you not? It was quite the… unexpected angle. You framed his narrative to be more sympathetic than most other news outlets."

"I wrote Frank's story. Everyone else had already written about the Punisher."

"And weren't you assigned his case when you worked for… Oh, what was their name again? Murdock and Neilson?"

Karen's brows knitted together and she straightened her back to appear slightly taller than you, "Nelson and Murdock." Karen huffed. "And here I thought I was the one conducting the interview here."

Strong-arming Karen was proving to be ineffective. It was time to play a different angle. You sighed and stood from your chair, gathering a file from your purse and presenting it in front of Karen.

"Look, Karen. I'm not here to accuse you of anything. If anything I commend you for writing the real story about Frank Castle. It shows your willingness to bring the truth to light. It's the reason I thought you could help. You worked with him and I know you were at the scene of General Schoonover's murder."

"How?" Her eyes skittered between you and the file.

"I also know that you've read up on me. You and me have something in common." Karen broke eye contact for a brief moment. "I just want closure. And I think… I think you knew the Punisher better than you let on. And everything that happened, all the people he killed… I think they were part of something bigger. Schoonover, Frank and… my brother’s death." You had to pause to take a breath. "It's all connected. And I've hit a dead end. You're the last thread I can pull. I know you know something. I'm just hoping..."

Karen looked at the file you gave her. It had your brother’s name printed on the yellow jacket. She sighed and slid it back to you. "I don't know anything. I'm sorry."

You smiled with disappointment, sliding the file back to Karen. "I've got more copies. Keep it." You grabbed your bag and headed for the door. "My numbers on the back. In case you suddenly remember something." As you walked out the door, you caught a glimpse of Karen burying her head in her hands and whispering a soft "Fuck" under her breath. That made you smirk slightly. Now you just had to wait and see if she'd call.

Even though you knew full well that you and Karen had kept your voices more than professional, you couldn't help but feel eyes on you as you walked out of the Bulletin's doors. Specifically, the judgmental eyes of Mitchel Ellis.

***

When you got into your car, you finally let the tough as nails act slide away and suddenly you felt limp. You closed your eyes and looked up at the car's roof feeling particularly aimless. As the seconds turned to minutes, your mind kept trying to make sense of all the puzzle pieces that didn't fit together in your investigation. Then, your phone chimed from inside your pocket. You half expected it to be Cecil and the other half… well, you reprimanded yourself for wishing it was Billy. What you didn’t expect to find was an email from Ward. Not just any email, a letter of notice.

He was firing you.

Over a fucking email.

The damn merger story hadn't even been put to print yet, even if it had, your name would remain anonymous. Which leaves the very probable reason for your contract termination being the result of a hurt ego and rejected advances.

"Asshole!" You swore. Rage bubbling to the surface, you typed away at your phone and sent a message you knew you'd come to regret, but your anger had gotten the best of you.

"Karen. About keeping my name anonymous, don't bother." You hit send and without missing a beat, you dialled Cecil's number. If Ward wanted to play dirty, you had no problem playing it his way.

"Heyyo," Cecil answered in a drowsy tone.

"Hey, I need a big favour."

***

You stormed your way up to Ward's office, ignoring the protests of his assistant clomping after you in heels she wasn't comfortable running in.

"Ma'am!" She whisper-shouted frantically after you as you burst into his office. Ward had turned to you with a shocked expression mid-sentence. A room full of important busy-bodies craning their necks to look at who cause this disturbance. Ward glared at you menacingly and then eyed his assistant who swallowed loudly. "I'm sorry Mr Meachum. I tried to stop her."

"That's quite alright. We're just finished in here," Ward buttoned his three-piece suit-jacket and motioned for the men to exit the room. A fake smile tugging at his lips. When you were finally alone, Ward closed the door behind him before walking over to his desk. He leaned his tall frame against it languidly. When he didn't speak, you did.

"A fucking text, Ward? You don't have the balls to fire me yourself, you had your assistant type up the fucking thing?" You tried to keep a handle on your temper. "What was the reason? Please tell me there's a better reason than your hurt pride!"

Ward gave you a cheeky smile, enjoying your anger a bit too much. "Well, you mean despite you showing up late to the meeting the other day, then feeding me some bullshit excuse of traffic being the reason you were late? And don't even get me started on all the other times you've put off work hours to do God knows what!"

"You're firing me for tardiness? I'm the one who spearheaded this expansion project in the first place. Without me-"

"I'm firing you for unprofessional conduct. You can do whatever you please after office hours, but social calls the same day you're late to the closure of the project you were in charge of? That's unacceptable."

"So this is about your dumb fucking ego!"

Ward's eye twitched and you could all but see his professional disguise begin to crack, "I expect you to remove yourself from the premises immediately before I call security. You can collect your things from rece-"

Before Ward could finish his threat, you took out your phone and pressed send on a video file. In an instant, Ward's phone chimed from his desk. He glanced over at it and saw your name on the email.

"The fuck is this?" Ward asked, an eyebrow arched.

"This is me choosing to stoop to your level, Ward." Your words were saturated in disgust.

"Is this a threat?" He gawked at you, completely surprised.

"Open it and find out."

Ward did as you suggested and his face went pale. The video showed him rifling through his desk drawer and pulling out a small tin, before proceeding to empty it of its contents and snort the white powder that came from it.

"I think that camera angle suits you. Does those cheekbones of yours the justice they deserve." You held up your own phone which played the same video.

"You bitch!" Ward snarled.

You took a step back and held up a single finger, "I'd be very careful about what you do next, Ward. One press of a button and I send this video to a very respectful reporter whom I was just in talks with a few hours ago. Then the whole world will know that the respectable and business savvy, Ward Meachum has a coke problem."

He clenched his fists till they went white, "How the fuck did you get your hands on that? Are you spying on me now?"

You laughed, "I have better things to do, Ward. But don't forget, I'm great at making connections. And this is a video from your security cameras in your office. I just know a guy who's good with computers."

"What do you want," Ward's words came out hesitantly.

"My job back for starters. I've worked too hard for someone like you to get in the way of it. Shouldn't be too hard to do, I'm guessing you hadn't consulted anyone about it. We can just keep your email between you, me and your lovely assistant."

Ward folded his arms and took a tentative step forward. He was trying to reassert his position of power, but you didn't budge. "And how do I know you aren't bluffing? I have a PR department available around the clock. We can spin this video however we want."

"Read tomorrows paper," you said snidely. "And once you realise I'm not bluffing. Add a raise while you’re at it." You added before walking out of his office. Adrenaline soaked your muscles and you felt powerful. As the door closed behind you, you heard a crash coming from Ward's office. His assistant looked at you with wide-eyes.

"Might want to hold off Mr Meachum's appointments for the day. Something tells me he won’t be in a very cooperative mood today." You winked at the assistant and rode the elevator to the carpark.

***

As you walked to your car, your phone rang. You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Jesus, I can't catch a break today." When you saw the caller ID you were pleasantly surprised. "Mom?"

"Honey, hey! I was worried I wouldn't get a hold of you, busy schedule of yours and all that," she rambled quickly in that shaky tone that had become her new default in the last couple of years. "I- Uh…"

Your heart began to race with worry, "Is everything okay?" You interjected.

"What? Oh, oh, yes! Everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be? I'm calling because there's something important I have to… Umm. Why don't you come home for a bit and I'll explain everything."

"Mom, what is this about?"

"See you soon," she said hurriedly, cutting the line straight after.

"What?" You stood dumbfounded and slightly worried. You made your way to your car at a jogging pace and set off for the family mansion.  

When you arrived, you were surprised to find a car parked by the driveway. You didn't pay it much attention, you were more preoccupied with finding out what that weird phone call was about. You rang the doorbell and the house butler answered the door. He seemed baffled to see you. To be fair, you were surprised you hadn't talked yourself out of driving through that accursed gate brandished with your father’s initials.

"Weathermire." You greeted him professionally.

"Miss Y/N. It's been a long time. I last saw you at the--"

"Gala. My mother called me. Do you know where she is?"

"The kitchen I believe, miss."

"Thank you," you made your way through the grand opulent mansion with familiarity.

"Would you like me to inform your Father-"

"No," you said almost instantly. "It’s better he doesn't know."

When you got to the kitchen, you were greeted by the image of your mother and several cook staff preparing food.

"Oh, Darling. You got here quicker than I expected," your mother said gleefully. She walked over to hug you, wiping her wet hands on her apron. She looked elegant as usual. Weathermire entered the kitchen just then and with a simple glance, she instructed him to go off and do something. He complied with a simple bow.

"Mom, what's all this? When you called, I thought…" You didn't know what to say, you honestly didn't know what to make of her phone call. You shook your head. "Why did you call me here?"

"Oh, well I figured we could have a little family dinner. I have been sat at an empty table for weeks now. Your father always has his meetings, you always have yours. I figured today there would be no excuses for you to be antagonistic towards each other."

You snorted, "Whatever brought that idea on?"

Just as your words escaped your mouth, Weathermire opened the doors to your father's study and your father and his guest stepped into the kitchen. Everyone's expression -except for your mother's- was that of being caught unawares.

"Billy?" You asked in shock. But as soon as you said his name, you regretted it.

"Do you two know each other?" Your father asked with a stiff tone.

You shot Billy a look you hoped mirrored 'Don't tell them about us'.

Billy, like the chameleon he was, flawlessly kept his composure and replied, "Yes, we had the pleasure of meeting at your Gala a few weeks ago." He smiled at your parents dashingly.

"You never told me you knew my daughter," Your father said.

"Your daughter?" Billy pretended to be caught off-guard. Now it was Billy's turn to shoot you a knowing look, "It never came up."

"We only talked for a brief moment. There wasn't any polite way to bring up my parentage to a complete stranger." You said through gritted teeth.

Your fathers eyes squinted in your direction and your mother cleared her throat, "Come now, we can all get to know each other better over some food."

Billy and you simultaneously tried to object but your mother interrupted, "Hush, you're both staying for dinner and that's the end of it."

You put on a painful grin. Something in Billy's expression found this whole exchange humorous.

"You two go set up the table, we'll be right over." You mother ushered them out of the kitchen.

You sighed when it was just you and your mother in the room. "How long have you known?" You asked her, not even bothering to deny you were more than acquainted with Billy.

"Since I saw the two of you leaving the Gala together." She had a smile on that showed she was proud of her meddling. "When he came over to discuss business with your father… well, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to have a reason for the both of you to be civilised and enjoy a meal with your mother while she got to know this very nice man I've heard nothing about, by the way."

"There's nothing to say. We went out for drinks once."

Your mother eyed you for a moment, not believing you for a second.

"Okay, maybe twice. But he's not--"

"I'm not what?" Billy asked.

Chapter Seven!

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[yanjuniverse]

Home | ZHOU YANCHEN Imagine

*GIF CREDITS TO THE ORIGINAL CREATOR*

[REQUEST: hello :)) can i request a fic with zhou yanchen? you can pick the plot and format, i'd just appreciate it if it wasn't an au but more real-world (like the justin one you did earlier which was BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING by the way thank you so much ;-;)

a/n: i’ve been dying to talk about yanchen. im sorry 💔]

it’s always been like this

you walk into the library after school and see the handsome young boy behind the desk typing feverishly at the computer

sometimes he greets you with his bright smile

most of the time, he just says “hello again!” without looking up from his work

you guys are around the same age so you guess that he’s just doing school work like you

college is hard man i get it

it’s snowing today as you walk towards the library. the flakes sprinkle over your head like powdered sugar. your nose, ears and cheeks are all a bright red despite the layers of clothing you have on.

when you walk in today, you’re sort of disappointed that they boy isn’t sitting behind his desk

maybe the snow was the reason he couldn’t make it to work, you guess

you sigh and set your things down at one of the tables before going off in search of a book you need

you’re trying to figure out what the dewey decimal system is even about when you spot him

the librarian

he’s standing next to the window with a coffee mug in his hand, smiling gently at the snowflakes that fell from the sky

“it reminds me of home,” he tells you without turning around. “when i was little, i would always get excited when it snowed - especially if it started to snow when i came home from school. it meant that my parents would have hot chocolate ready and we would spend the evening under the covers laughing at some story book.”

“do you have a favorite?” you ask him.

he hums, “i just loved being read to. and now that i’m older, i love to read.” he turns towards you and smiles gently. “do you have a favorite?”

you shake your head, causing him to chuckle lightly

“you’re studying business, right?” he asks. this time, you nod, leaning back against a book shelf. “you have that class with my friends zhou rui and xingjie.”

“they’re a loud bunch,” you chortle.

“they are,” he replies. “but they’re my family. i couldn’t live without them or our other brothers yankai and gui. especially gui.”

“that freshman with the dreads?” your eyebrows knit together. “no way you’re friends with him. he’s a total brat who can’t keep quiet for ten minutes.”

the librarian chuckles at this. “he’s a kid, you know? he actually only came to this school because the rest of us are here in this town. he’s scared of being alone.”

“and you?” he has a confused look on his face. “why did you come to this town? are you scared of being alone?”

“ah.” he takes another sip from his coffee cup before he continues to speak. “well, i came here because i-“ he stops talking and looks out the window again. his mind drifts for a second then he’s back again. “zhou rui reads to me a lot.” his eyes never really meet yours yet but he looks fond. “zhou rui likes to read books we both don’t understand because it helps us remember the key words. a lot of nights, he’ll read to me until i fall asleep.”

“are you homesick?” you ask.

he shakes his head and his eyes meet yours finally. “while most people have a house made up of four walls and a roof, my home is four people and a book. therefore, i can’t be homesick.”

you nod again, tucking the book into your side. “well, i should get going. i have to study.”

“have fun,” he teases as you walk off.

it’s not very much later that a rowdy group of boys show up. it’s almost time for the librarian to get off of his shift, the same shift he’s been working ever since you first started school here. the group of boys immediately file behind the desk that is meant for staff only and begin to mess with the librarian.

you recognize xingjie right off the bat and xiao gui. you guess that zhou rui is the smaller beauty and that yankai is watching fondly from the sidelines.

it’s time to go, you think, standing up and making your way to the desk to check the book out.

the librarian looks up at you. he’s a bit disgruntled because the youngest of the bunch is sitting on his lap but he looks happy nonetheless.

“i’d like to take this one home,” you say.

he takes the books from your hands and scans it along with your student ID. he’s writing something down. you assume it’s the return date but by the laughter from the youngest boy, you aren’t so sure.

“enjoy,” the librarian smiles. it’s so bright that you sort of wonder if it could melt the snow outside.

you nod, taking the book and opening it up to see why everyone is staring expectantly

inside is a bright orange sticky note that says “if i could, i would write a book on how beautiful you are. let’s be friends? .x yanchen”

you blush, looking up at him

his friends all stare at you as if they’re waiting for you to say something

you clear your throat and nod, “i would like that. i would like to be more than that sometime in the future, in fact,” you say boldly, causing the others to grin a little too widely.

he clears his throat, “you’ll text me right?”

“of course they will,” zhou rui replies. you laugh and nod, agreeing. “good or else i’ll have to stop sharing my notes with you.”

“don’t be like that,” yanchen scolds.

“i’ll be going now,” you wave, leaving shortly after they all chorus a goodbye.

you can’t help but stay awake that night, thinking of what yanchen had revealed to you. you could see that those boys cared for him very much and a part of you couldn’t help but grin knowing that he was being cared for.

of course you had heard the rumors about him. how he was kicked out of his home for wanting to study dance and theater instead of becoming a business major.

but the more you hung out with the group, the more you thought of his words; how home didn’t always have to be a house.

you’re laying in his room one night, your head on his chest as he scratches at your scalp lightly

“yanchen,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“i think...i think i’m home,” you tell him.

he doesn’t tell you this but he’s building a home in you as well. this one has sturdy walls that not even the big bad wolf could blow away.

“are you?” he smiles. you nod, thinking of how you could stay like this forever. “go to sleep,” he whispers.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too y/n. welcome home.”

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