#my mum asked if I had any special grocery requests

[look-at-the-soul]

The Photoshoot - When we were young

(Golden Globes special edition)✨

Request: by my dear @zablife as part of my Adele challenge but also + Grandma’s series ♥️

The Photoshoot 2014, 2015

Lee, when you sent in the “When we were young” song I knew right away it would be one of the most special parts of this series, I knew I wanted them to go back in time but I still wasn’t sure where/when/how to add it to the series as it could easily fit into any part. Then when things happened, I remembered I had your requests in my drafts, I knew I had to add some Grandma into the mix, as it’d give me a different approach 🥰

If you don’t read this series, don’t worry! No spoilers!! You just need to know that Yael Murphy is a photographer and Cillian just won his first Golden Globe award.

Word count: 1,175

Based on Adele’s song “When we were young”

Knocking on the door, Yael looked at her husband, a smile growing in her lips.

“Your social battery is still low huh?”

Everybody loves the things you do

From the way you talk

To the way you move

Cillian chuckled and moved on the bed to make room for her.

“How do you know?” He accepted the cup of hot chocolate she was offering him, grateful for the warmth the cup was providing.

“Well you’re hiding in your old bedroom while everyone is downstairs.” She pointed out resting her head on his shoulder.

After the Golden Globes win, they flew back to Ireland and Cillian wanted to go straight home, but one look later from his wife and they were on their way to his parents house for a little family gathering. The Murphy family wanted to celebrate the award with him, but he was worn out, and not because of the jet lag.

Everybody here is watching you

'Cause you feel like home

You're like a dream come true

“You’re adorable, I swear.” Yael teased stealing a quick peck.

Cillian chuckled in response, she knew him so well. He wanted to hide underground after being exposed to cameras, the press and all the people gathered for the awards.

“No matter what you say, wining that Golden Globe it’s huge, and I’m so fucking proud of you and all you’ve done.” Something on his lap catching her eye. “You look just like her.”

Cillian shot her a look, surprised by her words. “It’s my grandma, you think…?”

“Totally, same nose, lips, her eyes were bigger but it’s the same kind, if she didn’t have curly hair I’d thought it was you dressed as a woman.”

A content sigh escaped Cillian’s lips and his eyes went back to the photograph he had found in that old album. His grandmother was wearing a floral dress while holding his mother as they stared at the cake. He had been looking at the albums his Mum had been showing everyone earlier and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander back in time, to his childhood around his Ma.

“She was adorable.” He added with a hint of nostalgia, his mind and heart going back in time too the townhouse property, where he spent a huge part of his life. “I remember being so nervous about a stupid prom thing, so one afternoon she was knitting something and I asked her if she knew how to dance…” Yael saw the way his eyes lit by the memories, his soft voice murmuring the little treasure he just remembered, “she stopped and almost threw the needles and yarn, and went straight to the living and started playing music, she showed me where to place my hands, how to guide-you know, lead the way… she made me hear the beat, but she said you need to feel the music.” He added mimicking a femenin voice with a chuckle.

“That’s beautiful.”

But if by chance you're here alone

Can I have a moment?

Before I go?

“She somehow is responsible of who I am today, you know? Those early years while my parents were working all day…” his voice went dry, “she was with me, we went together to the grocery store, we cooked together, the park, she even took me to church.”

Yael chuckled and made a funny face at his last statement.

“That was probably the last time you showed up.” She teased.

Her heart filled with even more love as she saw how tender his expression grew by the memories.

“When I started acting, she always asked me for the script so I could rehearse with her.”

Yael nodded, thinking how much it meant to him.

“And when I did this film The wind that shakes the Barley, the post office released some commemorative stamps, she went and bought a bunch and she’d say to her friends this is my Cill, my grandson.”

You look like a movie

You sound like a song

My God this reminds me, of when we were young

Yael got lost in his velvety voice, it was so immersive, driving her into the memory lane with him.

“The movie had a huge impact in her, since her father passed away in that very same war, trying to defend Ireland, she never got to meet him.”

“I guess in a way, you portrayed that for her, and gave her a closure.”

Cillian tilted his head towards his wife. “You think so?”

“Absolutely sweetheart, books, movies and music, have a way to heal us from the pain we didn’t even know we were carrying…” She squeezed his hand.

Let me photograph you in this light

In case it is the last time

That we might be exactly like we were

Before we realized

Turning on the next page, Yael stared at an image of a woman leaned against a convertible.

“The quality of these photos it’s incredible.” She couldn’t help but admire not only the beauty of the shoot, but the angle and background.

“This must be from my grandparents honeymoon.” Cillian frowned removing the film that protected the photographs. “Yup… I recall grandma saying they didn’t have a budget to go in a trip somewhere ese, so my grandad drove all around the coast.”

“That’s lovely.” Yael murmured placing the photo closer to have a better look. “They’re together in that one.” She then pointed out.

“That’s why they wanted to go back to Kerry every summer.” Cillian sighed. “He built a small house later and I remember staying over there for the holidays every single time, they had to sell it though.”

“Remember when we went? That was a long time ago.” Yael moved her hair away. “Haven’t been there in ages.”

“Time to plan a little holiday?” Cillian gave her his signature eyebrow raised.

“Should I start packing?” She teased, knowing he was eager to disappear for a couple of days. “I’ll book us a place.”

We were scared of getting old

It made us restless

It was just like a movie

It was just like a song

Moving onto the next page, Yael found the cutest photo from all times.

“Oh man! I can’t believe this!” Cillian laughed out loud, dimples showing.

“How come I’ve never seen this one?!” Yael’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “You’re the cutest little boy! Look at you!”

You still look like a movie

You still sound like a song

My God, this reminds me, of when we were young

She looked at her husband and then back at the photograph.

There he was, with the biggest smiles of them all with half his body inside of a vintage mailbox.

“I love every bit of this photograph. It’s perfect.” She beamed at her husband’s portrait. Pure joy and love oozing from every fiber of him.

He looked so carefree and happy.

Let me photograph you in this light

In case it is the last time

That we might be exactly like we were

Before we realized

“Wouldn’t it be amazing to bottle up that little one?” Yael expressed, thinking of her own childhood. “I loved spending the weekends at the cottage with grandma, she played a huge part in my recovery, always looking after me so my Mum could take care of everything else.”

Scrolling through her phone, she found a photo her Mum shared over the holidays.

As a child she loved playing dress up with her cousin, Val.

When we were young

“I remember the very same day my grandma made this dress for me.” Cillian offered his hand to her, to stare at the photo. “She made it out of a nightgown she loved.”

“Is that a Polaroid?” He asked looking back at his wife.

“Yes, my grandpa carried his everywhere.”

“Isn’t it great? How a photograph can take you back in time all the way down?”

Yael smiled proudly.

“That’s the magic of photography… in just one click, you can turn something into a lifetime memory.”

***

Thank you for reading!!

I hope you liked this ✨♥️

Photo inspiration :

And yes, the part of the stamps is real, I read it somewhere and I loved the idea of his grandma buying Cillian’s stamps 💝♥️

Tag list @lyarr24 @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @winchestergirl22 @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @heidimoreton @thenattitude @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @queenshelby @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik @already-broken144 @alessioayla @paprikabadger @dolllol2405 @conversationpits @itsilvermorny @lafell @imichelle-l-rigby @yrli8 @cutecurly-hair @mrkdvidal1989 @cillspropertea @hyperfixationsonshuffle @sydneyyya @abbymcguire @shelundeadxxxx @elk96 @pono-pura-vida @lovemissyhoneybee @slimeantha @kmc1989

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy oc #cillian fanfic #cillian murphy characters #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fiction

[extremelyblackandwhite]

WAIT WAIt!!! Billy asking Steve for Daisys hand?

pairing: steve kemp x dark!reader

warnings: 18+ topics (under 18 year olds do NOT interact/reader), mentions of miscarriage

a/n: steve and the kemps are back. requests are back on!

part of toxic

        - I don’t know, darling. - Y/N fixed her hair in front of the mirror, her left hand holding a golden crimson lipstick bullet. - He said he wanted to speak to you tonight. 

       - Why would I subject myself to speaking to William alone? I barely like speaking to him when Daisy’s around. Speaking of whom, why is she not coming? 

       - Daisy’s unpacking the stuff at their new place. She’s 24, Steve. She can go a week without seeing mum and dad. - she crossed her arms. - Besides should I remind you of your other children?

       - What other children? Rose’s in Los Angeles and you know how I feel about that, the triplets are scattered around various universities and my boys are grown. 

       - Aaron is grown and he won’t go to bed if you don’t check the room for monsters. What are you talking about? 

       - I miss my girls and I was expecting Daisy to at least come with her disappointing boyfriend. - he sat on the bed staring at his wife. - We need a new baby. 

       - Don’t change the subject. - she sat next to him, holding his hand. - You should be proud. Our girls are doing so well and they’re very well rounded considering they have you for a dad. 

       - I wanna see my girl not her knucklehead boyfriend. - he rolled his eyes as he heard the bell ring.

No matter how long Daisy’s boyfriend had stuck around, Steve never fully came around him. He put up with him for the past seven years, even when Daisy begged for him to come along for family vacation, Steve still didn’t like him. Y/N had naively thought that after a while he’d come around to Daisy having a boyfriend, specially when they started living together on their second year of university. However, it seemed that no matter how hard the poor boy tried, Steve just did not enjoy his existence. He opened the door to see his worse enemy - his words - standing in front of him with flowers and a bottle of wine. 

       - Dr. Kemp. - he cleared his throat.

       - William. 

       - I got these for your wife. - he extended the flowers and the wine. - I don’t expect to be here for much longer. I have to go back and help Daisy. 

       - Where’s she?

       - She’s at home. She doesn’t know I’m here, I wanted to speak with you alone.

       - How nice. - he smiled tightly. 

       - Dr. Kemp, I wanna marry Daisy. I’m gonna ask Daisy to marry me tomorrow night and I am here asking for your blessing.

Steve’s mouth couldn’t have gone more agape and Y/N swore that if it hadn’t been for the fact that he didn’t want to appear weak in front of his daughter’s boyfriend, he’d probably fainted from the mere shock. In his eyes, Daisy was still his little girl begging him to buy any and every single ducky plushie she found when grocery shopping. Now, here was this boy asking for her hand in marriage. His little girl. She was too young to get married? Right? 

       - Billy, why don’t you come in? - Y/N opened the door, motioned with her head towards the living room. - I’m making some tea. Do you want some tea?

       - Can I have some whiskey? - Steve mumbled, still somewhat shocked. - Bring the whole bottle. 

       - Sure. - she kissed the top of his head before leaving the two of them in the living room. Hopefully, he wouldn’t kill the poor boy. 

       - I have bought the ring and I have the reservation. I am gonna propose to her because I love her very much. She’s the love of my life, she’s been the love of my life since I first spoke to her. Honestly, I know you don’t like me and I don’t like your very much either but Daisy adores you and it would make her very happy if you gave your blessing. I am here asking for it but I don’t need it. 

       - That’s ... - he swallowed in empty. - That’s bold of you to say, William.

       - I’m gonna marry her if she accepts and I don’t want to create a wedge between her and you because you refuse to accept or wedding invitation. I know how important it is for her to have your approval. 

        - You’re awfully confident that she’s going to accept. 

        - We’ve discussed marriage before and children and partnership. We have the same life goals and I have a stable job lined up. Both our names are on the apartment lease if anything happened and I ... I just really want your blessing, Dr. Kemp. You can hate me all you want but I love Daisy. I wanna make her happy.

        - Can you give me a second? 

He exited the living room, finding his wife not so secretly listening in to the conversation. Yet again, if she wanted she could always listen to the security cameras. She gave him an unreadable look, one which he couldn’t decipher even after 25 years of marriage. It was always a mix of both sincereness and threat - something he believed only his dear wife could pull so effortlessly. 

      - Steve. 

      - I have to say yes, don’t I?

      - I don’t think he’s asking, darling. I think he’s saying he wants your blessing because of Daisy. You know ... the daughter we love so much?

      - It’s just ... remember when all she wanted and made her happy was to have duck stuff and be with us? What happened?

      - She grew up. - she cupped his face. - They all do, eventually. All we can do now is make sure she’s happy with someone who’d do everything to make her happy. I know you don’t like Billy, but he loves Daisy. You love Daisy. Can that be your common ground? 

      - Fine. - he sighed, turning back around.

He knew she was right, of course she was right, and even though he disliked and would dislike every single person one of his babies brought home - William wasn’t the worse of them. He was brash but he loved Daisy. Steve just didn’t want to let go, not yet, so he just stared at the photos in the wall for a bit. Her first day of kindergarten, the first Halloween, graduation day. 

      - William, you have my blessing.

      - Really?

      - Yes, really. Now go, before I change my mind. - he pointed at the door. 

      - Thank you. It’s means a lot to me and Daisy. 

      - This better not be a shotgun wedding. 

      - It’s not.

      - If I found out you impregnated my child and this is a shotgun wedding, I will haunt you myself with a shotgun. 

      - Regular wedding, no babies. 

      - And tell Daisy to come visit me before I die. 

      - Will do, Dr. Kemp. 

He sighed once more as the door shut, only being comforted by his wife who wrapped his arms around him. 

      - Do you want that bottle of whiskey now?

      - Yes, please. 

#steve kemp #toxic au

[pacinothot]

Domestic!Dan

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: This is based on a request by the lovely @riccivergne:  “ bestie, a request for your writing: you and daniel being domestic. give me all the fluff you can give 🤍”. So, here it is: three different domestic scenarios with our mans, all cavity inducing and fluffy. 

Being in a relationship with Daniel is demanding, even difficult at times. He has a busy schedule, filled with races all over the globe, working out, and his different business ventures that all need tending to. Now that you’ve become official you get to at least travel with him to the races, but then again, you don’t really get to see much of him. On the other hand, it means that you have enough time to focus on your job and the free space you need in a relationship.

Over the months you’ve been dating, you’ve really grown to cherish the time you have with your man. The small things - like shopping for groceries, or cooking dinner together, even just binge watching a show on Netflix - have become special, at least in your relationship. You suspect that’s the case for most people in long distance relationships. 

There’s just something so heart wrenchingly warm about domesticity - especially when both of you make time for each other.

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

It’s the first official day of the winter break. 

Michael has taken his annual leave and is staying with his family; you won’t see him until late January. Blake has decided to spend the holidays with his family, too, so for the first time in what feels like forever, Dan and you have the house to yourself. 

You’re still slightly jetlagged and cursing yourself for offering to host Christmas Day for Dan’s family. Supermarkets are a minefield before Christmas, whether you’re shopping for shrimp or turkey. 

Sat at the kitchen island, you go over the grocery list once more, checking that you haven’t missed any vital ingredients. Daniel walks in and notices the tired look on your face. He steps behind you and places his large hands on your shoulders. You melt into his touch as he starts to massage your tight muscles. 

“No need to get stressed out, it’s just a barbecue babe,” he reminds you. 

“I know, but a barbecue also needs stuff to go on it.” You retort. 

“The sooner we leave the quicker we’ll get it over with,” he says, grabbing his car keys.

Grocery shopping with Daniel is an adventure; it starts with him picking out the perfect soundtrack for your drive there - he even lets you pick out songs. He refuses to let anyone else play their music even in their own car, and that knowledge fills you with warmth. No matter how bad of a day you’ve had, Daniel always manages to make you laugh with his silly dance moves and bad singing. He is like sunshine in human form and it’s bloody infectious. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood with him around. 

At the supermarket, you sometimes feel like a mother trying to reign in their unruly toddler. Whether it’s Dan pronouncing product names in a funny voice or cruising along the aisles with the trolley, you have a hard time not bursting into laughter and staying on task. If he wasn’t so charming you’re sure you’d be annoyed, but then again, Daniel is the first person to apologise if he realises he’s taking things a little too far. That’s the grown up side of him. 

Today, he’s decided to behave himself - he knows you’re stressed because you want to impress his family by being a brilliant hostess. The thing is though, they already adore you. 

“Fuck, they’re all out of sugar,” you sigh. “Guess we gotta go to another store.”

Dan hugs you from behind, glancing at the shopping list in your hand. He loves your handwriting; it’s pretty, yet forceful, but not chaotic like his. But you scribbled this list on the flight back to Perth - the words are still legible, but some of them are slightly smudged, and others are slightly slanted. 

“We can ask my mum or sister to pick some stuff up too, you know,” he mumbles against your cheek. 

“They’re our guests, Dan.” 

“So? They’re gonna bring stuff regardless, might as well ask for something we need.” He looks down at you, frowning at the worry lines on your face. “It’s been a busy year and I don’t want you stressing over Christmas, alright?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek mulling it over. 

“If we can’t find everything we need at the other store, then we can ask them.” You finally say. 

Dan’s face lights up and he pecks your cheek. You giggle. His heart swells at the sound. 

“Here, let me help you,” he says, taking the shopping list from you. 

Back at home, you put away the groceries as Dan calls his mum. You smile as you listen to her berate him for not asking for help sooner. 

“Well, Y/N didn’t want me to ask, because you’re our guests.” He says, grinning at you. 

“Silly girl. We’re family, we’re supposed to help each other,” Grace says and you can’t help but smile so hard your face hurts. 

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

It’s pasta night. 

Every single week, the two of you try out a new recipe. It’s a fun way to spice things up. Besides, the kitchen is your happy place. Daniel’s not much of a cook, so you do most of the cooking - he does help with preparing the ingredients, though. 

Tonight, you’re making spaghetti cacio e pepe. It’s a simple dish, but one of your favourites. As you’re assembling the ingredients for the meal - spaghetti, salt, pecorino, pepper - Daniel keeps following you. There’s this special talent he has: wherever you need to grab something from - whether it’s the fridge, a cupboard, or a surface - he always manages to stand in front of it. 

“Babe, I need to get the cheese out of the fridge,” you look up at Daniel, his eyes full of mirth. And so begins your little routine.

You scrunch up your nose in playful annoyance, and Daniel dips his head, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. Then he places a gentle kiss to your nose, before his lips finally find yours. He tastes like tea and mint gum, and something that’s uniquely him. You could get lost in his taste forever. 

He turns, letting go off your hips, and grabs the pecorino from the fridge. 

“Here you go, love.” He hands it to you with a smug grin. Bastard.

This little game lasts until you’ve assembled all the ingredients. Then, Daniel sits down on one of the stools on the other side of the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone. A little while later, music starts playing on the sound system he’s installed. You can’t help but giggle as you watch him get up and start to dance. Daniel dances like a drunk frat boy, even when sober, but it’s obvious that he knows he’s a terrible dancer, which makes him even more adorable. As he dances, he makes his way over to you. When he reaches you, he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing his trained chest against your back. He slowly sways you to the rhythm of the music, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His beard tickles your sensitive skin. 

“Daniel,” you warn. “No funny business.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” he retorts, but mischief is laced in his voice. 

“Mmh,” you hum, feeling him smile against your neck. “If you’re a good boy during dinner, you’re gonna get a well deserved dessert.” 

He groans against your neck and you giggle. His praise kink is his handicap.

When the timer you set for the pasta goes off, he reluctantly lets go of you. 

“Can you set the table?,” you ask, as you drain the pasta.

“On it.” 

As he places the plates and the cutlery on the dining table, Daniel watches you finishing the meal. He loves how much you love cooking - not just because you’re great at it, but because you do everything with such care. Even Michael, who usually cooks for him during the season, likes cooking with you, and he can’t stand having people in the kitchen with him. 

He pours two glasses of his own Cabernet Sauvignon just as you carry the large bowl of pasta over to the table. And suddenly he is hit by one of his earliest memories: his parents making dinner, his sister and him sitting at the dining table and watching as his father poured wine into the expensive wine glasses they rarely ever used, while his mother came over to the table with a giant bowl of spaghetti and tomato sauce. Nothing about this meal was particularly special, but somehow, the care his parents had put into it was. So much so that he remembered it over twenty years later.

He sits down opposite you, reaching out to take your hand in his. 

“Y/N,” he says, eyes bright, “I love you.”

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

It’s Monday - or Podcast day, as it’s known in your household.

Dan is listening to one of his favourite MMA podcasts as you walk downstairs. He greets you with a quick kiss and hands you a cup of tea. You thank him, stifling a yawn. 

Then you sit down at the dinner table, where your Macbook, headphones and a glass of water are waiting for you. You log on, put your headphones on, stretch your arms and back, before opening up iTunes and pressing play on the latest episode of your favourite true crime podcast. 

This particular episode is quite graphic, and you’re only a few minutes into the podcast, when you feel yourself grow cold with fear. Your eyes grow wide, goosebumps erupt on your skin. 

Across the room, Dan notices you stiffening up in your chair. He gets up from where he’s sitting and walks over to you. He squats down in front of you, looking up at you. Concern is written all over his face. You stop the podcast and drop your headphones, and he takes your free hand in his.

“You okay?” He asks, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

“Uh, yeah. This episode is just a little intense,” you admit. 

“I will never understand why you’re so into true crime and thrillers and shit,” he shakes his head, but smiles in spite of himself.

“Says the adrenaline junkie,” you tease. 

“Fair,” he mumbles. “Want me to sit down with you?” 

“Nah, I’m okay,” you reassure him, but mostly yourself.

“You’re like”, he turns to look at the screen, “10 minutes into this podcast and it’s over an hour long, hun.” 

“Fine,” you roll your eyes and he squeezes your hand. 

Daniel giggles and you poke your tongue out at him, causing him to laugh even harder. It’s your favourite sound in the world. 

The two of you stay sitting there, listening to your podcasts. Whenever Daniel notices that anxious expression on your face again, he squeezes your hand. If one of you runs out of coffee or tea, the other one gets up to replace it. It’s something you do without consciously thinking about it.

Tags:

@supernaturallymarvellous​  // @scotlynaurora​ //

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fluff #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #fic.txt

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Celebrate you.

summary: Slowly, step by step, harry is becoming a dad.

word count: 1.9k

based on these requests:

“i legit am obsessed with your single mum series! can you do one where they all have a movie night? i think that would be sooo cute”

and

“Awwww now I’m thinking about Harry’s first Father’s Day with artimis. Thy make him his favorite food and gives harry the card he made for him 😭😭😭😭😭”

and

“for my shy little boy, what would harry’s first fathers day be like”

and

“Father’s Day gift for Harry from Artemis”

and

“Artemis celebrating Father’s Day with Harry”

a/n: had so many father’s day requests, sorry i took so long but here it is! send me some concepts revolving the pregnancy pls, i feel like we haven’t touched that subject!

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

June, 2019.

It could be raining, there could be a storm, hell, the sky could be falling apart but Harry would always make it to Y/N’s house on Saturday, with his hands full of takeout and an overnight bag to spend the night with them.

Staying in on the weekend was never something Harry used to do before. However, now the thing he looked forward the most was quiet, relaxing quality time with his girlfriend and her son. For him, it was the domesticity of it all. It was the feeling of craving something all week around that when the time comes, you can’t get enough of it. To Harry, the thing he couldn’t get enough of was the little life he’s been building with Artemis and Y/N for the past year and so.

Nothing was able to wipe the smile off of his face as he drove to the Y/L/N’s household after a long, exhausting week of working on his new album. Harry has missed the last movie night due scheduled meetings he had in LA that he couldn’t cancel, so he was very excited to finally them again in real life, and not only through a screen.

“Harry, Harry, you’re here!” Artemis was the one who opened the door, chanting his name while hugging his longs legs.

“Artemis, I’ve told you to now open the door without me there.”

“It was Harry, mum. I saw him through the window.”

“Oh, so you were waiting for me?” Harry playfully pinched one of his cheeks, making him blush. “Hi, love. I missed ya.” The green eyed man smiled sweetly at the woman in front of him. She looked beautiful although she was just dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that was probably his. Her hair was up in a messy, high ponytail and the makeup she had on earlier was already wiped off. He looked down at the little blonde boy and saw he was in his pajamas already. “I bought Chinese this time, that okay?”

Y/N nodded, taking the takeout bags from him to bring them to the kitchen, not without giving Harry a little kiss on the lips before doing so. “It’s perfect. I missed you too.”

Once she was out of sight, Harry felt how someone pulled from his pants and when he looked down, Artemis was already looking at him with big, doe hazel eyes. “Can I get a hug?”

Harry’s heart melted. “Course you can. Always.” He took him in his arms and held him close to his chest, breathing in the vanilla essence of his shampoo. Hugging Artemis has become one of his favorite things in the whole world, and one of the things he wanted to do all the time. Harry walked towards the living room with Artemis still in his arms. “What are we watching tonight?”

“Can we watch Trollhunters?” He asked excitedly.

The older man chuckled, having already expected that answer. They binged watched the entire series a couple times and Artemis absolutely loved it every time, and who was Harry to say no to that adorable face?

“Harry?! Can you help me with these?” Y/N’s voice was heard from the kitchen. Harry got up from his seat and told Artemis to wait for them to bring the food so they could start with their movie night.

When the three of them were finally on the couch, Artemis being in the middle of both adults, they pressed play on the TV. Harry had his plane on his lap and was also holding Artemis’, the little boy being too busy on watching the television Harry had to grab his fork and feed him bites of the fried rice he knew he liked. Y/N just observed from the other side of the couch, a smile forming on her face. The two boys looked completely absorbed in their own little world and Harry looked like a pro feeding a five year old with one hand an eating his own food in the other.

Harry sensed Y/N’s stare and looked at her, he wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her giggle quietly. I love you, he mouthed before sighing contently. This was what he has been wanting to do all week. A night with no worries, no stress, something as mundane as watching television has become his favorite thing just because it was something he did with the two of them.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

The weekend passed by and soon Monday rolled in, which meant it was time to go back on their normal routines. To Y/N, her routine was wake up and make breakfast, then wake her boy up and make sure he was ready on time for her to drop him off at school then drive to work. She needed to make sure she left her office at the same time every day so she could go pick Artemis up from school in time.

What happened afterwards was variable. If Y/N had to give any conferences in her home office, she’d drop Artemis at her moms’ and go pick him up after she finished or if she was free for the day, they’d just chill at home.

This Monday wasn’t any different from any other. Y/N held Artemis’ hand as they walked down the hall of his school to get to her car and drive home. Artemis was telling her about his day as she strapped him on his car seat. “My teacher said this Sunday’s the day they celebrate daddies.”

To Y/N, it didn’t go unnoticed the way he said ‘they’ instead of ‘we’, and she felt how her heart fell to his stomach. The truth was, Artemis has never celebrated Father’s day, simply because there wasn’t no one he could celebrate with. Usually he wouldn’t mind, but Y/N knew it will as he grew older. She sighed, humming a response to him as she got in the driver’s seat.

“Can we do something that day?” He asked, Y/N looked at him through the rearview, trying to read his thoughts.

“What do you want to do, baby?” She said, hoping and praying it was something she was actually able to give him.

“Something for Harry.” At her boy’s words, Y/N almost crashed the damn car out of pure shock. It wasn’t a secret at all how much Artemis looked up to Harry, or how much the man adored her child, but perhaps it was a little soon to celebrate Father’s day with him.

Does Harry deserve it? Damn straight. He’s done more for Artemis than his biological father would ever do. Doctor appointments, nightmares, late night grocery shopping because the boy craved a candy it was only sold in the store in the other side of London, you name it. However, they haven’t been in that stage of their relationship yet, and Y/N was afraid it would overwhelm Harry.

The case was, Harry did deserve to be celebrated, not just the third Sunday of June every year, but all year around. The things he do, the love he held for Artemis… it was something worth to be celebrated. So Y/N sucked up her fears and insecurities and promised they would surprise Harry that Sunday.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Y/N hasn’t done anything like this before. She has searched for ideas on Pinterest so they could make something special, but she still had no experience whatsoever. Usually, when in school children had to do a craft work for Father’s day, Artemis’ teacher would just put Y/N’s name on it. However, this year she had asked to put Harry’s name on it.

“Not daddy, not dad, not father. Just Harry.” The teacher verified, writing down on her notebook before looking up at Y/N.

She nervously played with her hands as she answered. “Just Harry, please.”

Turns out this year they made the kids make cards for their daddies, asking them to draw what they loved the most about them. Artemis didn’t let his mum see what he did back in his classroom, claiming Harry should be the first one to see it and Y/N was more than happy to obey.

Besides the card, Y/N has picked out a few other things for Harry, and also made sure to have all the ingredients to make his favorite food in her kitchen. Harry had stayed over, as usual. Artemis was so excited he almost blurted their plans to him twice, but Y/N was able to stop him.

On Sunday morning, Y/N woke up extra early and went out of bed trying to be as quiet as possible then walked down the hall to get her son, who was already awake and ready to run to her room where Harry was to wake him up.

“We have to make breakfast first, honey.” She told him before picking him up to take him to the kitchen. “We have to be quiet.” Artemis nodded rapidly from his seat on the island. “You’ll give him your card first then the others gifts we have, okay?”

Y/N cooked breakfast as fast as she could, knowing Harry would be awake and looking for them in no time. She placed the waffles with blueberries on top next to the plate with an omelet made with all the ingredients Harry liked such as dried tomatoes and mint. She could barely put the orange juice in a glass when Harry entered the kitchen still half asleep.

“Surprise!” Both Y/N and Artemis exclaimed with a big smile.

Harry opened his eyes in surprise, seeing the kitchen full of his favorite food, plus a couple of green balloons and gifts set on the counter. “What’s all of this?”

“It’s for you, Harry.” Artemis said, hopping off the kitchen island with the help of his mum. “I made this for you.”

Harry looked up at Y/N, who gave him an encouraging smile. He sat on one of the high chairs and pulled the small boy on his lap before opening the card he had in his hands.

“My teacher asked me to draw what I love about you. This is you with a rainbow suit because you like color, and you’re giving one of your concerts like the one mummy and I went to see one time.” Artemis explained, pointing out all the details of the card from his place on Harry’s lap.

Perhaps Artemis has drawn Harry with circles and sticks, and the ‘stage’ he was supposed to be standing on looked more like a square in the middle of the paper, but to Harry it was the most beautiful thing he has ever since in his entire life, and it brought tears to his eyes knowing Artemis has made this for him. His lip started trembling when he saw the little ‘I love you, Harry ☺❤’ at the bottom of the card. It was a messy handwrite, proper for a five year old, and it was that what made it so damn perfect.

“Today we’re celebrating you, Harry.” Y/N stepped in, wrapping her hands around his shoulders from behind and kissed his cheek. “We love you.”

“We love you, Harry!” Artemis said, joining the hug excitedly.

With a couple of tears rolling down his eyes and a heart that was ready to explode out of love and adoration for the two people that were standing there with him, he managed to let out a sincere, soft ‘I love you so much more’.

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

@myfavfanficsever @odetostep @la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland @sweetenerstyle @cronias13 @vhsharry @maisley @seasidecrowbar @stylesfics-xx @autumnpauley20 @fineline-hs1 @stephaniemalvie @immajustreadwritereblog @jadert15 @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @abundanceofsoph @harrysthicccthighs

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fluffy imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #dad!harry #stepdad!harry #harry styles au

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Thankful

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader Warnings: It’s kinda cute? Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: In the event I took a rare request, here you go Anon. I hope you like it. 

“What's the matter, duck?” Henry gently rubbed your shoulders. Tension seeming to melt, slightly, with his touch. “You've been off the last few days, talk to me.”

A faint smile, you wave it away, leaning into his touch. “It's nothing, Hen. Nothing to worry that pretty little head of yours over.”

What were you going to tell him? Tell him that you were homesick? Like a child at summer camp, you were devastated that you weren't able to fly home to spend at least part of the holiday season with your family. It was selfish and childish, but damn it you didn't care.

This would be the first year that you didn't get at least Thanksgiving with your family. The first year, in many, where you wouldn't spend the day listening to your dad argue with the football game on the television. The first time you wouldn't be at the brightly decorated table, enjoying your mother's prize winning cornbread stuffing. You hadn't seen your parents since early January and it was beginning to weigh on you.

You weren't the only person in the world struggling with this, why should you wallow? At very least you had Henry to share your time with. Having one another was more than some people in the world had right now. Sighing, you shake your head, trying to keep the tears away.

“I have to go FaceTime mom, I told her that I'd call before they ate dinner.” You break away from Henry. Pulling your sweater tighter around your shoulders. Leaving him with a peck on the cheek, you pat Kal on the way by.

“Tell her that I said Happy Thanksgiving,” Henry frowned, his words setting in a realization.

Watching you disappear to chat with your family, Henry would give you a few minutes before casually wandering in to have a chat with his in-laws. Allowing you to catch up, gave him a few minutes to put his sudden plan into action. Enough time to send a few quick texts and order some sort of roasting bird for the following day.

Finishing his onslaught of messages and dictations, Henry glanced at Kal who was stretched out on the kitchen floor watching him intently. The big dog yawned and rested his head on his paws. “I know bear, I know. Don't you worry, I'll save you some too.” He bent to scratch Kal behind the ears.

In the other room, Henry could hear the voices coming from the laptop. Your voice sounded more chipper than he'd heard in days. No doubt to the benefit of your family, not wanting them to worry or feel bad that you were on the other side of the ocean. Confident in his planning ability, Henry strode into the next room a deliriously happy smile on his own face as he greeted your parents.

Checking the time, Henry didn't want to appear rude, but he did have to sneak out to the shops before they closed. If he was going to give you a Thanksgiving. Kissing your cheek, he smiled fondly at the screen. Informing your parents that he had some errands to run, insisting that you keep talking when you asked if he wanted you to accompany him.

“Non sense, I can do this. I need to grab Kal some more food. You talk with your mum and dad. I won't be long, duck.” Another kiss on the cheek as he waves goodbye to your parents. Rising from his seat, preparing to head out in search of the perfect yam.

Whatever Henry was up to had kept him out longer than a typical run for some dog food. Sending him a text, he assured you that he would be back shortly not to worry. He wanted this to be a surprise, parading in with an arm load of groceries for a roast dinner would not be the easiest thing to hide or explain.

Giving up on Henry and whatever he was up to – no doubt after grabbing Kal's food, he went off to the gym. That would keep him out for at least a couple of hours. You opted to ready for bed, a little early, but perhaps a good night's sleep would refresh your feelings in the morning. Henry running off to whatever it was he was up to didn't help your homesick mood.

He knew that you were upset, the least he could have done was stay to comfort you. Whatever. You groan and step into the shower. Fuck it. No use in going to bed mad, when you are already this damn gloomy. Downstairs, you hear Kal whimper a few seconds after stepping into the warm stream of water. At least Henry would be home to snuggle a little before you went to sleep.

“Hey bear,” Henry greeted the dog, taking into account that you were nowhere to be seen. “Where is mum?” Listening he smiled at the sound of the shower. Perfect!

Secretly lugging groceries into the house, Henry was pleased with his accomplishments. He'd be up before you in the morning, naturally, which is when he would begin prepping the feast. Storing the last bit of his surprise, he made a cup of tea and headed upstairs.

Sitting the cup of tea on your night table, Henry waited for you to finish in the bathroom. A soft plume of steam escaping the door as you stepped out. Towel around you, ignoring his presence for the moment. A soft silence fell while you took time selecting your pyjamas. Henry sitting on the bed watching you quietly. Satisfied with the fuzzy blue pants and matching tshirt, you continue to ignore Henry walking back into the bathroom.

“Duck?” He calls after you, not wanting to push. He should have known that you'd be upset on his running out so abruptly.

“What?”

“When you're changed, I brought you some tea. Do you want to read for a bit? I can go let Kal out, then grab my book.”

“Sounds nice, Hen. I'll be here when you come up.” You call back, pulling your shirt over your head. A little annoyed but less homesick knowing that you will have Henry to keep you company.

Spending a home sick evening in bed cuddling with Henry and Kal, a cup of tea, while you and Henry fall into silence as you are each lost in the pages of your respective books isn't so bad. It's not your mother's homemade cranberry relish, but it is a pretty good way to end the day.

As predicted, Henry was awake about an hour before the sun thought to rise. Carefully slipping out of bed, making sure to tuck in the covers to keep you from growing cold he kisses your cheek and retreats downstairs. Kal hot on his heels. After a quick run around the small garden, the pair are back inside the kitchen. Henry staring at the turkey he had bought. He may have gone a little over board on the size. Surely you had a pan to fit.

Once the bird was crammed in the oven, as if by some strange magic the damn thing fit! He went to work on the next item, peeling potatoes. After that it was on to the yams and then the green beans. Henry was a confident cook, but making your grandmother's special green bean casserole was daunting. How bad could it be? He'd watched you make this at Christmas. Damn it, he should have insisted he helped you and not listened when you told him to go enjoy his brother's company.

Recipe on the counter top, he eyed Kal as if he would give some untapped wisdom. Kal yawned and licked his lips, his main concern was the bacon that would be topping the questionable squishy green strings.

“We can do this.” Henry tapped his fingers on his thigh. “We've got this.”

“Got what, Hen?” Your voice startled him. Flinching in surprise, Henry spun around to face you. “What are you doing?” Looking around the kitchen at the mess of vegetables, pots, pans, and...was that dough?

“I uh,” Henry rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging. “It was supposed to be a surprise. So, surprise! I am making you Thanksgiving dinner.”

“You're what?” Your brow furrows, pulling your dressing gown tighter around your body. “Henry, sweetheart.”

“I know that you're upset about not being able to go home. I know that it's a bit late, but...”

“Henry, Henry, Henry.” You coo shaking your head. Walking across the kitchen to where he stood, glancing at the recipe on the work top you giggle. “You're doing this for me?”

“I am,” He wraps his arm around you, drawing you close and kissing the top of your head. “Why don't you go relax, it will be a while and I will get your coffee.”

“Or,” You hug him tightly, “I can make the coffee, then we can do this together.”

“It's your surprise, though, duck.” Henry pouts and you kiss him sweetly.

“I know, but I want to help. Besides, Thanksgiving dinner is a huge undertaking. It requires at least two chefs and probably ten people to eat. Please, tell me we're having guests. I don't think we can eat an entire dinner this size.” You look at all the food he has laid around the kitchen.

“That part I have covered, my brother and his family will be here for four. As well as a few close friends. What do you say?”

“I say Happy Thanksgiving?” You giggle at the look of pride on Henry's face.

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfic

[glamrockmonarch]

Honeypie: Rufus Taylor Fluff

From the Miscellaneous Masterlist, following Keep Me.

Requested: YES.

Pairing: Rufus Taylor x Fem!Reader.

Type: SFW, Fluff.

Summary: Following “Keep Me” Y/N and Rufus have a newborn baby to bring home and care for.

Warnings: None.

A/N: I could not resist writing this one since Anon asked about it. Also, I've had the toughest week in a while... so many life changes in so little time (I will not talk about it tho) and this piece might not be what people were expecting. I hope it is still enjoyable as I pushed myself to stay true to my word and have something to post today.

Y/N and Rufus are learning the hard way, but the most difficult and perhaps important lesson of them all for any parent out there is the first one they learned. On a Sunday night, merely five days away from their due date, Y/N started feeling “odd”. With a large belly, heavy with their baby, she tried to sleep while Rufus reassured her that it was fine.

“It’s fine. It will be fine!” He had said in an increasingly pitchier and pitchier tone before leaving her alone in their room so she could lay down on her side and try to catch some shuteye, which had been so elusive those past few weeks when their baby grew larger and more active. A kind reminder that her chaotic boyfriend was the father and now there was going to be a Mini-Rufus raising hell in their home.

Babies do not know of time, nor do they care. They are babies! And theirs was no special genius thoughtful baby. Rufus figured this out the moment Y/N began rubbing her belly that evening while they were watching tv. And he was nervous about it.

Like most things, it turned out to be okay. He called his mother first, trying his best to stay both calm and quiet. The rest of the night was a stressful journey. Getting Y/N to the hospital after her water broke and then waiting. The waiting was so much worse than either of them thought it would be. Among the machines and the weight of that uncomfortable state right before delivering a baby, Y/N almost swore to her boyfriend she was not having any more children. Almost.

The birth was not easy on Rufus; he glimpsed between Y/N’s legs and went pale in the face at the sight of a head coming out of her body. Certainly not a clean one, covered in blood his baby would be coming into the world. “Here’s the head!” One of the midwives announced, at which Rufus looked back at his girlfriend, desperate to know she was alright as the miracle of life wrecked her body. He would have an interesting conversation with his mother someday if he did not repress the memory of his beloved pushing a full baby out of her very own vagina.

Everything that they went through made sense at exactly 11:52 pm when Y/N held their baby girl for the first time, small and delicate she held on to Rufus’ finger with a pale hand soft and fragile. Ivy Jayne Taylor (as they named her) was perfect, which had the couple crying with happiness. Their baby, still swollen and somewhat funny coloured, laid between their arms at last. She had not been what people may call “planned”, but she would not be lacking any love because she had been “wanted” since the moment Y/N knew the news. Ivy Jayne Taylor’s parents had made her from their own love for each other, a love that had been born from a small seed of friendship and grew with time. A love that rooted itself healthy, strong and steady in both hearts like a tree. And she was now a new seed of love in those two hearts.

A day later, with the thumbs up from the doctor they were able to go home and arrived back to a quiet crowd waiting to meet Ivy Jayne. A mixture of Taylor’s and Y/L/N’s revolved around Y/N to watch baby Ivy as she slept in her mother’s arms.

“Ow, she is so pretty!” Lola whispered over the new mum’s shoulder.

“Oh yes…” Debbie spoke softly, touching the baby’s head with cautious fingers. “She’s got those Taylor genes, doesn’t she?” She smiled.

Indeed, the baby had a full hair of pale yellow hair already covering her head.

“Rufus, you did good!” Lilly squeezed his arm as he came back.

With the bags already upstairs he gave his sisters a tired side smile and walked up to his girlfriend and daughter. “You want me to take her?”

Shaking her head, Y/N was unable to look away from the petit features of her baby girl.

“You should rest too,” her mother said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Do it while she’s asleep, trust me you’ll need it.”

Everyone in the kitchen who had a child stirred a laugh or nodded.

“I don’t know, it feels weird…” Y/N admitted, her Y/E/C eyes turned to Rufus, “I don’t want to leave her anywhere.”

“We’re home,” Rufus reasoned. “it’s okay.”

Hesitantly, Y/N put Ivy on Rufus’ arms and watched him coo at her when she moved. Their baby looked even smaller in his embrace but the sight comforted her as he was joined by Felix, the two with a similar smile adorning their faces.

The blond drummer took their baby upstairs and she sat by the kitchen bar to chat with her relatives. Her mother had brought groceries and filled their fridge “enough for a week or so” she said.

The visit was not very long, everybody was aware that Y/N would probably want to rest even if she was smiling and listening to the conversations.

Rufus was only somewhat less exhausted, although the dark circles under his eyes stood testimony to the quality of sleep at the hospital the previous night when he could not leave his daughter’s side.

Not five minutes after the couple was left alone for the first time at home with their little baby did she start crying.

Ivy was a tall baby, still delicate and still small. She had proved how tough she was when she had her ears pierced at the hospital, the nurse thought she was going to go mad with anger and pain but the little blonde baby pushed her gloved hand away and gave a lazy moan. Now… babies are usually a lot less easygoing when they are taken home.

“What could she want?” Y/N turned to Rufus with their baby in her arms.

“Is she hungry?”

They tried to feed her, but Ivy was uninterested in mama’s breast.

“...maybe a clean diaper?” Rufus offered again, his astonishing unprofessional opinion, but that got them nowhere still.

Even worse, their baby’s loud wailing was getting louder with desperation.

“Rufus,” Y/N was frustrated but she managed to stay calm. “Hold her for a sec, okay?”

She decided to call her mother and ask for advice. Of course, when she left the room and found her phone in the kitchen with a bit of good advice from mum to go back upstairs to the nursery she found Rufus pacing with a silent and quite pleased looking Ivy pressed against his chest.

“Wha-” She stood in the doorway and smiled at Rufus. “How?”

He turned to her, grinning. “Figured maybe she is just like you,” he explained, “so all she wanted was to be held.”

Y/N sighed and looked away feigning annoyance, “that’s not all I want…”

“I know, you also like f-u-c…”

“I get it,” she interrupted with a straight face.

Rufus put his hand out and signalled for the new mum to come to him. She complied, going to him and wrapping her arm gently over their baby girl as the other went around Rufus’ waist. Rufus held her to his side and kissed the top of her head.

“You’ve just taken all the bragging rights available in this relationship, I will never make anything as perfect.”

Y/N followed his gaze and squeezed him in her embrace once she realised he was watching their daughter with adoring eyes. So he was going to be that kind of dad.

“Couldn’t’ve done it without you Ru.”

...

#rufus taylor #rufus taylor x reader #fem!reader #reader insert #x reader #rufus taylor fluff #honeypie

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Hi! Can you do let's fall in love for the night by FINNEAS with calum? Specifically the lyric "you won't stay with me I know but you can have your way with me until you go" and can the reader be that one saying or feeling that lyric? Thanks and sorry to bother, love your work!

Thanks for your suggestion and much gratitude for you patience. 

Please stay safe during these uncertain times. Drop a sweet message to your favorite blogger. Reblog your favorite fic. Recommend a fic to me if you want! We need to spread some joy.

If you feel so inclined, here’s my Ko-fi. But please know that I am making this content because I want to help you all through these times. 

Enjoy my masterlist!

Feel free to send me a song + a boy or small blurb request. 

_____________________________

Let’s Fall

Everyone told you not to fall for Calum. Everyone told you that he was sweet and he was thoughtful but that was something he extended to everyone. You had witnessed it with your own two eyes, helping someone get a box off the high shelf in the grocery store, stopping for the gaggle of kids crossing a good foot from the crosswalk. He bought lemonade for a kid’s stand at the end of the block once. The man oozed a softness that could melt anyone’s heart. 

But he couldn’t melt his own. And not for a lack of trying. Not for a lack of wanting love. But situations just never worked out. It seemed like with touring and his own lack of communicating sometimes, things kind of fell apart. 

it’s a dangerous game. To play with your own heart. But you are playing it, at bat with all bases loaded. Whenever Calum calls, even if it’s just to have someone else’s voice and life and even problem fill his own head instead of the bullshit he usually spiraled down, you pour your heart out. If Calum mentions doing even the most mundane things, grocery shopping, taking Duke to the vet, you ask to tag along. 

Tonight’s no different of a game. Calum’s sick of the four walls of his house, so he asks if he can crash at yours. “My apartment is tiny and you have a whole ass house.”

“I just wanna hang out for a little while. Maybe take a stroll around your block.”

You want not to flutter and squeeze at the thought of watching the setting sun in front of you guys as you wander down the block, watching birds fly overhead. Praying to the heavens none of them take your hair as a place to shit. But still enjoying the cooling breeze and possibly stopping at the convenient store not too far out of the way to stock up on cheap fruity wine and all the snacks that are no good for either of you.

But you swallow down the dream. “I don’t want you have to jostle around bringing Duke along and everything. I can just come by your place.”

“Nah, it’s not that much of a hassle. Please? I’m so bored,” he whines. And you can almost imagine him reclining into his couch with Duke in his lap. His head resting into the cushions and he’s grinning just a little knowing that soon you are going to crack. 

“Really, Calum. I can just come to you.”

“What part of me asking if I can come over to your place do you not understand?”

“Alright, smart ass,” you huff. 

“I’ll be there in 25,” he returns. 

The call ends and you’re left blinking at your phone, staring at your call list where you’re call with Calum now rests. “That wasn’t a yes,” you sigh but clean off your sofa, vacuum quickly and straighten out the kitchen table.  

When Calum turns up at your place, with a backpack, Duke on his leash and a few extra bags hiked up onto his shoulder you know immediately that it’s not just a few hour thing. But you say nothing. You let him inside and turn your attention to Duke. “Your pops is a very stubborn man, you know?”

“Oh but you love me,” he hollers as he treks down the hallway to the bedroom. 

You roll your eyes though your throat quivers. You had hoped it wasn’t obvious. You tried to tell yourself you weren’t falling. You were holding onto the edges of hope, hoping it wouldn’t push you over the edge. But it seemed it would. He returns, a baseball cap on his head. 

“Let’s go for a walk, yeah?”

“Wine and snacks?”

“Of course.” You take Duke’s leash and your keys. The sun’s hasn’t quite started to set. The hint of spring and summer allowing you more light for longer. A few neighborhood kids are laughing into the skies, a group. And for a moment it reminds you of your younger years. When after school, you hung out in groups and even if you had no money or knew you had to be studying for a test, it was a lot more fun to linger outside and laugh over some video, or story that was being shared. 

It reminds of when feelings and crushes were the biggest thing in the world and when Duke pauses to sniff out the base of a bush, you glance up to Calum. The cut of his jaw can’t be hidden by any hat, and you nearly gave. You nearly give in and stroke the scruff that’s not quite a beard. 

Now love feels like a gamble. This person could break your heart. This person could crush you. And it won’t ever be permanent. You won’t be permanently hurt. But the time frame for healing doesn’t make anyone want to jump head first into heartache. The other side of that gamble is that they could be the perfect person, they could be the person to restore your heart. 

But do you take that gamble with Calum?

And it’s not until after toting Duke around the convenient store and pointing out the bottle of wine you’re going to split and the snacks that will be shared begrudgingly and you’re laying on the floor in your living room with the TV playing whatever programming is set by the station that you’re giggling at the feeling of Duke’s snout sniffing at your face, that you think to yourself this is something you could get used too.

You haven’t had much of the wine and neither has Calum. A less than a third of it still rests inside the glass bottle and your glasses sit empty next to it on the coffee table. Your head is resting right next to Calum’s, but you’re feet point towards the fan and his feet are pointed down almost towards the hallway. You can feel the heat radiating off his cheeks, hearing the exhales.

“I want a garden.” The thought cross his lips so quietly that you don’t think you catch it. “Mum always wanted one and like, I don’t have a green thumb for shit, but I want her to smile when I hand her a bouquet of the flowers in my own garden.”

“Forget-me-nots are pretty,” you say, helping Duke up onto your stomach and he settles his head right under your sternum.

“I’ll plant you some. A whole corner.”

“That’s too much for me.”

He scoffs. “No, it’s not. You deserve more than a corner if I’m honest.”

While your fingers stop their work in Duke’s fur, you turn your head to look at him. He’s staring up at the ceiling. “That’s the wine talking,” you laugh. But when he turns to look at you, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours and you see the pulled down brow, you know it might be more serious than you estimated.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” The smell of the strawberry whine fills the space between the two of you. 

“Why do you always reject me?”

“I’m not rejecting you, Calum.”

“You didn’t want me to come over.”

“I didn’t want you having to uproot everything especially with Duke. I was offering to come over to you,” you correct. 

“You don’t want me to plant you flowers,” he continues on like you haven’t just spoken. 

“I only said I didn’t need a whole corner in a garden.”

“I like you but you keep acting like you’re not good enough or something. Like you’re waiting for me to go find someone else.”

Your ears are not hearing this. You’re sure that you’re hallucinating. All you can do is blink, mouth slightly agape. Calum could never like you like that. You weren’t even supposed to be in this game at all. You were supposed to just be friends. “Are you going to like me in the morning? Are you going to like when there’s no wine in your system? Are you going to like me when you wake up to my morning breathe?”

“Yes.”

It’s such a simple answer. Three letters. One syllable. One fucking word but you’re not sure if you can fall. “You’ll leave before morning,” you start, turning and looking back up at your ceiling. And with a thick swallow, your throat starting to close up on you because you want to believe, you want to give into the words but you know it’s Calum. The man who’s sweet to everyone. You’re no one special. 

“I won’t.” Calum reaches across, just to trace the side of your face. 

You should be cursing yourself for turning into it, rooting into his palm. “Want to know the crazy thing?”

Calum pushes up. It’s with a small grunt and he spins on his bottom to face you, one leg tucked up the other resting extended behind your head. “I’m down for crazy.”

“You could have whatever you wanted. And I know if it were just for a night, that would be fine by me. Like literally whatever you wanted from me, I think I could give it up in a heartbeat. No questions asked. And it just hurts, it could only be for a night.”

Calum’s careful as he collects Duke and settles the old man onto his lap. HIs fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you up. Now you’re sitting cross legged in front of him and he’s staring at you. His big brown eyes look so earnest across your face. “I don’t want just a night with you.”

“Then what? What do you want?”

His smile is soft and his palms are warm against your cheeks. “All of it. All of you. For as long as you’ll have me. I wanna call you mine.”

Hope, you think, wasn’t pushing you to your demise. The first tear stings and then slips down your cheek. “Okay, like I know wine makes me emotional but I swear not this bad.”

He laughs, a soft exhalation. His palms press down a little and you know your cheeks give to the pressure. “Can I kiss you?”

“Hmm-mhm,” you hum unable to nod in his grasps. The first one is soft, barely a kiss and you’re still registering the way his lips fit against yours before he’s kissing you again. And then a third time.

-H

#calum hood #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood fic #calum hood fluff #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #calum 5sos #asks #answered #song blurb #h writes #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer fic

[drawlfoy]

Mirror, Mirror P.2

masterlist

request guidelines

requests are open!

read part 1 here

pairing: draco x ravenclaw!reader

request: no! i feel bad about neglecting my requests but this popped into my head and i really wanted to write it

summary: reader is paired with draco to do prefect rounds. she’s had a mad crush on him for years despite him hardly knowing who she is. what will happen?? oooh read on to find out

warnings: language

a/n: i came up w this story after reading hbp and now i want to do what i can to make the most in character draco imagine i can imagine, which means this might be a little long. think of this as my “vacation” fic or whatever. also i figured out my tag problem! if you’re having an issue like that...apparently if you link something to send your readers directly to a screen that’ll send you a request, it won’t show up in tags. so don’t do that haha

music recs: i’m falling in love so hard with vampire weekend’s vampire weekend album. literally the entire thing please listen to it and tell me that it doesn’t make you feel like a young tourist in italy in the summertime

word count: 1,658

tags! @accio-rogers @geeksareunique

“He kissed you?”

“No, no, his reflection did!” exclaimed Y/N as loudly as she could on their walk to the breakfast table. “And he was holding my hand and pressed up against me. It was so strange. He would never do that.”

Rena shook her head in disbelief, ducking to avoid a wailing Peeves on the move. “That’s...some strange magic. What did you say the mirror said on it?”

“Erise? Erised? I can’t recall exactly,” Y/N admitted. “It happened so quickly that I wasn’t really thinking all that hard about the name.”

They entered the dining hall and made their way to the Ravenclaw table. Y/N made a point to never look in the direction of the Slytherin table, even though her habits tried to convince her to steal a glance. 

“And the worst part of it all,” said Y/N after they had sat down, “Was that he knew something I definitely didn’t. He was smirking to himself for the rest of our rounds. I just know he’s up to something, and I can’t give up my pride and ask him.”

“You really should’ve been a Gryffindor,” Rena teased, spreading jam on her toast. “But I totally get it. It’s Malfoy we’re talking about. He would ridicule you if you asked.”

“I wasn’t even holding his hand,” Y/N said to no one in particular, looking at the table with a vague expression. “I mean, I was for one second, but then I grabbed his cloak sleeve instead. The reflection showed me holding his hand.”

Her roommate shrugged. “Anyone know anything about cool mirrors?”

“Shhh, keep it down!” hissed Y/N. “I don’t want anyone else hearing about this!”

Thankfully, only a few Ravenclaws seemed to take notice, granting them a confused glance. 

“Nevermind,” Y/N told them, offering a forced smile before turning to Rena and leaning in close to whisper. “We need to find this out. Maybe meet me in the library after class today?”

“I’m sorry, I have a Potions essay to finish, and I know for a fact that you do too,” Rena reminded her. “And you have your rounds again tonight, so you need to finish it up directly after class so you have time to eat dinner and go to bed at a reasonable hour. You can care about this tomorrow, when you have more time.”

“Thanks, mum,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes and spearing a piece of fruit with her fork. “I wanted to figure it out before I saw him again. That’s all.”

Rena seemed to ponder this for a moment.

“Maybe try and get him to admit something? Or go see the mirror yourself again and see if he’s still there with you.”

“Good idea,” Y/N agreed. “I think that I’ll do that.”

oOo

Y/N was having trouble deciding whether she wanted to deck Snape for giving her the essay or herself for choosing the most mundane of topics. It had taken her over twice the amount of time to write her essay than usual, leading her to have no time before dinner.

She recounted her plight to Rena as they ate together. 

“Now what am I supposed to do?” she wailed, carefully trying to keep her voice down as to not draw too much attention to herself. “I’m going to show up looking a fool because he knows something that I don’t--”

Y/N had been so invested in her complaints that she didn’t even notice Rena giving her wide eyes and motioning with her eyebrows until she felt the tap on her shoulder. 

Draco Malfoy was standing behind her. He had changed out of his Slytherin robes, opting for an effortlessly flattering silk lined suit and an infuriating smirk.

He looked very attractive.

“What is it, Malfoy?” Y/N tried to hide her embarrassment with her bitter tone. 

“No proper greeting?” He frowned, a painfully fake gesture. “I thought that you’d at least try to be polite to me.”

“And why would that be?” countered Y/N.

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” he drawled, dragging an eyebrow up with his statement. Y/N didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“Can I help you, or are you just set on standing here and harrassing me?” asked Y/N, refusing to drop eye contact with him. 

“You can most certainly help me,” Malfoy told her, bending over and leaning closer to her face. “You can start by not looking like your mum just died whenever you come to meals. The view is getting old.”

He sneered one last night before turning back to walk to the Slytherin table and leaving Y/N to stay frozen in shock.

“What the hell was that?” Rena asked. 

“I have no idea.”

oOo

Y/N arrived at their meeting spot at exactly 10:02, relishing in the fact that she was making her partner wait like she had. But that wasn’t the only reason she was late; to be completely truthful, after the stunt he pulled in the dining room, she was even more afraid of seeing him again. 

She had racked her brain for any memory of a special mirror that might’ve come up in her History of Magic classes, but was completely unable to recall anything.What little time she did have after dinner was dedicated to a frantic search of her notes from her 1st year classes to present, which unfortunately failed to yield anything. 

In the opposite of her Ravenclaw nature, she was going into their meeting completely and utterly unprepared. 

“You’re late,” was all Malfoy said as she rounded the corner. His pale hair dipped in a nod of acknowledgement as he shifted his weight off the wall and began walking down the hall, looking back over his shoulder once. 

“Sorry about that,” said Y/N nonchalantly. “I was occupied.”

Malfoy scoffed, but didn’t press the issue. The two walked in silence for a few  blissful moments.

“I hate to say this, Y/L/N, but I’ll try to let you down easy. I’m not into Ravenclaws.” He casually stated this like one would recite a grocery list or tell you their name. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N’s head whipped around to face him as they walked.

“In the future, I suggest that you take rejections a little more politely,” said Malfoy evenly. “Maybe then you can at least be friends with the person who doesn’t want you.”

Y/N’s cheeks grew hot as she sorted through her panicked thoughts, How had he known that she liked him? There was no way that he knew. The only person who even had a sneaking suspicion was Rena, and she would never say anything to put her best friend on the line. 

“You seem mighty confident in the assertion that I would even want you,” Y/N said after she had been quiet for far too long. 

Malfoy smirked. “Come on, I see the way you look at me. It’s adorable, really, how you can be nearly of age yet still have an obsession with a boy you hardly know.”

“I don’t!”

“And here’s the beautiful thing, darling,” he said, his tone suddenly growing darker as he stopped walking. Y/N held her breath as he leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I know you’re lying.”

His breath on her ear made her visibly shiver, earning her another satisfied smirk from Malfoy. 

“You’re completely mad,” she hissed, shoving him away from her. He grabbed the hand poised on his chest and pulled her along with him, leading her to stumble into his chest.

“Merlin, no need to be so forward,” Malfoy said, his tone dripping with insincerity. “I said no the first time.”

Y/N gritted her teeth and thrashed against him. “Let go of me!”

Surprisingly, Malfoy obeyed, dropping his hands to his sides and stepping away from her, looking irritatingly passive. 

“I don’t know why you think I’m interested, Malfoy,” she spat. “At this point I could write a book full of all the reasons that I hate you.”

“Please, you hardly know me,” Draco fired back, his own cheeks looking slightly flushed as well. 

“You hardly know me either, but you still believe you can read my mind!” Y/N sputtered.

“It’s not my fault that you’re painfully obvious.”

“How on earth could I like a prat like you?!”

Malfoy blinked, hard. “No clue. But you do, so why don’t you care to enlighten me?”

Every insult in existence rushed to her tongue, begging to be spat at the Slytherin. In her frustration, none of them made it out, leaving Y/N to open and close her mouth like an idiot.

“Aw, do I have you tongue-tied?”

Y/N whacked his shoulder, snapping out of her speechless state. “I don’t know what to say. Is that a crime?” 

He shrugged.

“Is this because of that weird mirror we saw last night?”

Malfoy continued to walk silently, refusing to acknowledge her question apart from a slightly cocked eyebrow.

“Because if it is, I have no idea what you’re on about. It’s just a regular mirror!”

Y/N gasped as Malfoy spun to her, grabbing her arms and pressing her back up to the wall. 

“Did you really just see our reflection, Y/N?” he asked, leaning in dangerously.

“Of course! Was I supposed to see something else?”

“I can explain better when you’re not lying through your teeth.” Malfoy lazily raked his eyes across her face. Y/N fought back a tremble. 

“You’ve gone completely mental,” said Y/N, pushing him off of her. “I’m requesting a different partner. I’m sure Professor Flitwick will understand.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want, though?” he quipped, cocking her head to the side. 

“Why else would I do it?”

Y/N curled her hands into fists, glaring at him with every ounce of contempt she could manage and daring him to challenge her. 

Malfoy stared at her for a few moments before turning and walking away.

“Playing hard to get, I see,” he teased, shooting her one more conniving glance over his shoulder.

final a/n: i swear that this is gonna go somewhere soon but i don’t know how to do it yet haha. if you guys want to message me with ideas, let me know! we can brainstorm together and all that jazz. i apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes that may be present in this fic as i have not even attempted to proof read.

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter #harry potter imagine #slytherin

[petersasteria]

Wedding - Haz Osterfield Imagine!

Requested? Nope

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Warning: language..?, angst

1.7k words

* * * *

Today's the day you've been dreading. You saw this day coming, but you never expected to just be his guest. You wanted to be with him, but you've lost your chance.

Harrison's getting married and it's not with you.

You and Harrison dated for three years and it was amazing. However, things started to go south after your third year anniversary. You were growing apart; you didn't have the same goals anymore and you both didn't have the same interests. The spark you once had was no longer there. The positive energy was not there and it affected both of you. It didn't help the fact that the distance was taking a toll on your relationship.

That's why you broke up. Despite that, you still loved him with all your heart.

It's two hours before the wedding and you've decided to see Harrison before he marries the love of his life. You take a deep breath and knock on his dressing room door. Tom answers the door and smiles when he sees you, "Hey Y/N!! Come in."

You thank him and enter the dressing room only to find Harrison standing in front of the mirror. "Hey there, stranger." you smile. Harrison looks at you through the mirror and grins, "You made it!"

"Of course I did!" you walk up to him and give him the biggest hug you could give. He hugs back and Tom stands idly at the side, watching the touching scene in front of him. You pull away and look around, "Where are the others?"

"I don't actually know." Harrison chuckles. He looks at his best mate says, "Tom?"

"Oh, they're roaming around to check out the place. Harry wanted pictures of the venue as well." Tom answers.

"Um, Tom? Can you leave Haz and I for a bit? I want to talk to him." you say. Tom nods and says, "If you need me, just text. I'll go look for the others." He smiles at both of you and leaves the room.

You sit down on the couch, motioning Harrison to sit next to you and he does so. You look at him and give a soft smile, "Haz, I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks, Y/N. You have no idea how much I appreciate you being here. I'm really happy too. We both know that I've been waiting for this exact moment." Harrison chuckles. You smile and say, "Yeah, I know. I'm just sad that it's not me."

Harrison looks at you sadly and says, "Y/N--"

"Please hear me out." you look at him with pleading eyes and he nods for you to continue.

"I'm really, truly happy for you, Haz. You have no idea how happy I am for you, because you're happy. You finally found the love of your life and that's fucking great! I just had a hard time accepting that, because I still love you with everything in me." you say, tears streaming down your face. Despite all your tears, you still have a smile on your face.

Smiling through the pain at its finest.

"I still love you and it's really depressing how I can't move on. It's so unfair that you finally found the person who you're going to spend the rest of your life with. It's unfair that it isn't me, because we spent three years together talking about this moment; it comes true with you and a girl who isn't me. But you know what? That's alright." you sniff and hold his hands.

"That's alright, because your love is what ours couldn't be. It's a love that you deserve. Our love was great, but it wasn't what you deserved." you tell him.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"We were destined to meet, but we weren't destined to be with each other. As much as it hurts to admit, it's true. You are worthy of this love that you have with her, because it'll last for your entire lives. And because of that, I'm finally and officially closing the chapter of what we once had instead of hoping that you might come back for me, because you won't. I'm letting you go now, Haz. I hope she takes care of you and I hope she gives you everything that I couldn't give you. Lastly, I hope she's all the things I'm not." you say through your forever falling tears.

Harrison, too, has tears rolling down his cheeks. What you said was truly emotional.

"Thank you for that. I don't know what to say, but I'll come up with something." Harrison slightly chuckles, causing you to chuckle too.

"I guess I'll start by saying, I love you too, but not in the way I've loved you before. You still hold a special place in my heart, but I've clearly moved on now. You'll find the guy you're going to marry soon. Maybe he's stuck in traffic or something." he jokes, lightening up the mood.

"Those three years with you was great. We were happy, but that's just a memory now. It's a memory that I definitely won't forget. You and I grew together, yet we grew apart as we did so. However, our relationship helped me become a better person and I hope it helped you too. We're both good, just not for each other." he smiles sadly, wiping his tears.

"I would really love to still be friends with you, because you're such a great person." He says, hopeful.

"Of course we can still be friends, Haz." you smile, wiping your tears and pulling him into a bone crushing hug. He laughs and hugs back.

"Ready to get signed up for the rest of your life?" you jokingly say as you pull away.

"Hell yeah!" Harrison laughs. You both stand up and fix yourselves. As if on cue, Tom knocks on the door and opens it, "Haz, it's time."

You and Harrison look at each other before heading to the door.

-

The ceremony was beautiful and it made you question where the hell the love of your life is. Maybe Harrison was right; maybe the guy really is stuck in traffic. Or maybe he's spilling his coffee somewhere.

You're at the reception and everyone is slow dancing to the music whilst you're sitting down, sipping your wine.

"Bored, huh?" you hear a voice from beside you. You look to your left and smile when you see Tom. He looks at you as he chuckles.

"Yeah, I'm kind of bored. Are you bored too?" you ask him. He nods and says, "Yeah. Mainly because I have no one to slow dance with."

"Same here." you sigh. Comfortable silence falls on both of you. Just then, Tom breaks it, "D-Do you want to dance with- with me?"

You smile at him and nod. You both stand up and he leads you to the dance floor.  With his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck, you both sway to the music.

"How are you? Y'know with all this." Tom asks.

"Hurt, but happy." you say in a soft voice. He nods and asks again, "Why are you hurt?"

"I'm hurt, because he finally found the one for him and it's not me. I'm also hurt at the fact that I haven't found the love of my life yet." you chuckle.

"Are you sure? Did you look hard enough?" Tom asks. You look at him and it's your turn to ask, "What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe the guy for you is just around the corner, y'know. He might not be a stranger; he might be your long time friend or an old classmate. You never know, Y/N. Maybe he's the one who's been there for you through ups and downs; y'know he's seen you in your lowest and greatest points." Tom suggests.

You think about someone who's always been there for you who's already in your life. Tom speaks up during your thinking and says, "I don't know about you, but I've known the love of my life ever since I met her."

"Really? How? And why are you still single if she's the one?" you scoff.

"Yes, really. I just knew from the moment she came into my life. I haven't asked her out yet, because I'm waiting until she's ready for a new relationship; until her heart's ready to love again." Tom explains.

"Who is it?" you ask, curiously.

"You." Tom says with no hesitation.

"Don't fuck with me, Thomas. It's not funny." you say with a slight chuckle.

"I'm serious. It's you. I have this gut feeling that it'll be you who I'll be spending the rest of my life with. My mum had the same gut feeling too the first time she met you, y'know when we bumped into you at the grocery store. Ever since then, she hasn't stopped asking about you and talking about you. She really likes you for me and believe me when I say that she's never reacted that way to any of the girls I've dated before. Besides, why do you think I've stayed single ever since I met you? I wanted to devote myself to you, but you got together with Harrison and I've never felt so heartbroken. But I still didn't date anyone, because I really believed that we'd be together in the future. So, all this time, I've just been waiting for you and I'm willing to wait for you until you're ready to enter a new relationship." Tom says, pouring his heart out to you.

You smile at him and nod, "Since you waited this long, you deserve a chance. I'm willing to try."

"I don't want to force you if you're not ready." Tom tells you.

"No, I'm ready to start again." you chuckle.

"We'll take it slow, love." Tom smiles. "I'd be the happiest man in the world when we make it official."

"It may be sooner than you think." you giggle. Tom smiles and pulls you closer. You put your head on his shoulder as you continue to slow dance in comfortable silence.

And just then, your heart started to beat again; realizing that the love of your life was in front of you all along. Only this time, this love won't end.

* * * *

Lmao reblog if you liked it

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield imagines #harrison osterfield fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #spider-man far from home #peter parker #haz osterfield #haz osterfield imagines #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

[kamekamelea]

Homework and hobbies for the prompt list???

the one where Jake gets a warrant that Pilsners are boring indeed

#34. Hobbies from this kids prompt list

This is far from my best work (sorry about that *hides*) but even though the idea was clear in my head from the moment I saw this request the words just wouldn’t form and this one has been in my inbox for so long I had to get it out of my system. Hope you enjoy it anyway, Anon! :) Thank you for sending the prompt 💕 it turned out silly but I like it :D

Thank you so much @cheddar-the-dog for beta-reading and your words of encouragement 💖💖 

Special thanks go to @rosalitadiazz and @vernonfielding for being my information sources on this one, your help is very much appreciated! :D 💕 

read on ao3

“Isn’t it weird our 17-year-old son is spending his Saturday with his Nana?”  

Jake asks his wife one day, getting suspicions after few weeks of Atlas staying all afternoons at Karen’s on work days (Amy responds that she finds it endearing, and hopes her own future grandchildren spend so much time with her when they’re teenagers). Jake’s totally aware of his son’s special bond with his Mum and is very grateful for it but still, call it 6th sense or work-related bias after so many years being a cop, he can’t help but feel something is off.  

Sure, Atlas and Karen’s bond is truly special, especially given the fact that he’s a teenager and kids his age are not mostly known for spending an awful lot of their afternoons with their Nana. But they have just so much in common, Karen being the only competent person supporting his love for cooking and helping him with developing his skills making with him all kinds of weird foods only Uncle Charles seems to enjoy.  

(At a very early stage of his life it turned out cooking is Atlas’ passion and since his parents aren’t very talented in that area, it was Jake’s mum who’s helped Atlas to discover his skills. As he grew older, he started making more sophisticated dishes, he learned to bake and make all sorts of pickled vegetables. He even made some jams one summer and the amount of jars full of sweet substance was so enormous, the whole family still has their pantry packed with it, even after a giveaway to the whole Nine-Nine squad). And his Nana was there throughout it all - such victories as the first batch of well-done pierogis for Mother’s Day one year, or a 5-level birthday cake for Jake. But she was there for the failures as well, like when a whole box with jars of pickled beetroots gone bad and Atlas, being a sensitive boy, cried all afternoon because of it.)  

Eventually, Jake convinces his wife to visit Karen later that day. “What do you say we pay my mum a surprise visit this afternoon?” To which suggestion she agrees eagerly, realizing Karen might appreciate them doing groceries for her.  

Jake knows he’s been right seeing the unpleasant surprise on his Mum’s face the moment she opens the door, seeing him at her porch with bags in his hands. 

“Jake?” Karen’s bewilderment, showing in her eyes being wide, is priceless.  

Busted.  

“Hello Karen!” a muffled shout comes from his car, where Amy is picking up the rest of the groceries they got for her. Conspiracy visit or not, his mum still is an old lady, who needs help with basic chores (even though she has a hard time admitting it).  

Jake gives his - still a bit in shock - mum a quick kiss on the cheek and heads straight to the kitchen, for one to leave the bags there and for two to get over with this mission on catching his son red-handed as soon as possible.  

The problem is, the kitchen is empty.  

“Amy, my love, Jake - would you like a cup of coffee? And cake?”  

“Oh, yes please!” his wife obliviousness of the situation really taking place (Karen trying to distract him from finding his son) is annoying, but Jake couldn’t clue Amy in, because she’d call him obsessive and would made an awful lot fun of him.  

“Mum, where’s Atlas?”  

He goes past her, ignoring her attempts to distract him from going further the hallway (while Amy’s still blissfully unaware of her husband and mother-in-law’s game, cheerfully asking about Karen’s well being).  

There’s no sign of Atlas all over Jake’s childhood’s house so the only place left for Sergeant Peralta to look for is the garage. And that’s where he finds his one and only son doing a thing he would never accuse him of, startling Jake and filling his heart with horror, simultaneously shattering it to pieces.  

HIS SON IS BREWING BEER.  

For a moment Jake thinks he’s having a heart attack, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him and Amy seeing him in that state rushes to his side and only then she notices the source of her husband’s sudden deterioration. There is a million thoughts going through her mind but there is one that is especially loud ‘HE’S UNDERAGE, HE’S NOT SUPPOSED TO DRINK ALCOHOL NOT TO MENTION MAKING IT’ but also a quiet one ‘How did my son turn into my boring ex-boyfriend?’ .   

She orders her son to go straight to the car and as Jake starts to feel better they all go home in a suffocating silence. Jake feels heartbroken seeing that his son shares a passion with his wife’s ex-boyfriend (especially when only last month Atlas confessed to him that “only the first Die Hard movie is good, Dad”) and doesn’t utter one word even when his wife makes a long and loud lecture to their son once they arrive at Santiago-Peralta household. In the spur of the moment she bans Atlas from making any more alcohol which results in Atlas shutting himself in his room for the rest of the evening.  

Mr. and Mrs. Santiago-Peralta spend the rest of the day questioning all their parenting choices, wondering when did they put him on this road to being a boring person. Especially Jake can’t see a moment when everything went wrong - his son has made so many explicit “Title of your sex tape” jokes ever since he was 13, he and Ana team up every year for a Halloween Heist, not failing to fool their old parents for 3 years straight now and they go together to the waterpark every year (just the two of them, some quality father-son time) -in Jake’s eyes Atlas is the most fun person he knows (but don’t tell Amy that).  

Their self-pity party gets interrupted by their 22-year-old daughter Ana, who enters demanding answers as to why everyone is acting so weird today. After telling her the whole story of the staggering discovery at Nana’s, she tells them how Atlas has been afraid to tell them about his new hobby for the longest time, knowing of their weird prejudice towards beers that are not Blue Moon (or Corona if they feel fancy).  

(Actually it was Ana herself, gutted by her parents taste in beers, who convinced them shortly after her 21st birthday - discovering there is more to adult alcohol-drinking-life than the cheapest beers in her parents’ fridge - to switch to Dos Equis (her personal favourite), so that the policy of ‘not drinking anything that doesn’t taste like piss’ is no longer on the table. Their resentment towards trying anything new beer-related was obvious and weird to their kids even.)  

Ana’s revelation actually makes them even more sad - to know their son kept a secret from them, being anxious of their reaction feels like a true parenting failure for the Santiago-Peralta couple. Sure, their interaction with Teddy has been traumatic for the both of them, the memory of it still giving Amy a Pilsner-TSD. But they see now so clearly it should have never influenced their behaviour towards their son.  

“He has foreseen you might react this way so he decided to keep his mouth shut. And Nana was his partner in crime because she’s just the best, obviously.” 

And they reacted in the worst way possible. Especially Amy seems to have huge regrets regarding her outburst.  

She has tears in her eyes, cursing herself for being so harsh before, and she’s overcome with the strongest urge to just hug her son and never let go (well she has this urge constantly from the second he was born but sometimes this need gets just unbearable just like in this moment) so she sprints to his room, apologizing and hugging him until he’s all abashed from the sudden affection coming from his mother ( “It’s okay Mum, I’m not even angry anymore. Could you let go, I can’t feel the half of my body, you’re crushing me.”).  

“We owe you an apology, Atlas. We should have trusted you with this instead of being so close-minded when it comes to beer.” Once Amy finally lets her son breath again, loosening her grip on him, Jake takes a seat next to him.  

“Where is your animosity towards beer coming from anyway?” Their son’s question catches them off guard and there’s no way for them to hide it, as they start to mumble incoherent excuses.  

“It’s... just that at one point your Mum was really sick of it.”  

“Title of your sex tape, Dad!”  

After Jake high-fives his son and his wife rolls her eyes with a fond smile forming on her lips, they make a promise to Atlas to never ever react that way to anything happening in his life and he assures them he will not drink his own beer (Jake doesn’t believe this promise for a second but Amy seems to be satisfied with his answer). As Amy makes a move to leave, Jake stalls, almost insecure and tries to make an attempt to fix what once was an unbreakable bond with his son (before he stabbed his back with the Die Hard confession and start this new “a-lot-like-Teddy” hobby) asking him about his new interest.  

(Of course he’s being overly dramatic - such a silly thing would never jeopardize his relationship with Atlas. Still, Jake can’t help but feel a bit left out, jealous even, of not sharing Teddy’s knowledge of beers so that he can impress his son and engage in this new passion of his.)  

“So, what is it you’re brewing there, buddy? Some good ol’ pilsners?” Jake’s knowledge about beers is really limited and he has never even tried expanding it, what he mildly regrets right now.  

“Pilsners, Dad? Really? Who do you think I am? Some old, boring Czech guy? Pilsners are like the worst type of beers! There’s nothing fun about them. They’re BORING. I brew Ales and sometime Weizenbiers but NEVER Pilsners!” 

His son is so indignant and almost offended Jake would think he has anything to do with THE MOST BORING type of beer his heart warms and he becomes overwhelmed with a wave of affection towards his son, resulting in him grabbing Atlas' round face in his palms and planting a very manly kiss on his forehead. They spend most of Sunday talking about Atlas’ new hobby (Jake actually learning a lot of new and surprisingly interesting facts about beer brewing).  

(Jake’s the first person honored to taste the first sip of next batch of Atlas’ beer and is pleasantly surprised finding out he actually likes it. When he pats his son on the back, showing his appreciation, a giant beam appears on Atlas’ face, the one, as Amy says, that makes him look exactly like his father.)  

#b99 #b99 fic #b99fic #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #jake x amy #jake x amy fic #peraltiago kid #jake peralta #amy santiago #my writing #mine #kids prompts #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #ofc i didn’t want to offend any czechs #😂😂😂 #i love them and their beer <3 #kasia writes

[boreussia-durmmund]

You pick me up and take me home again - Roman Bürki

For @degea-drama-llama Happy Birthday <3

Paula had been talking non-stop about the exam since both of them had left the room and Thozi was only half-heartedly paying attention to her. The exam had given her a headache and the last weeks had stolen so much of her energy that she couldn't even think of anything else than hiding under the sheets in her bed maybe with Roman but maybe not because just about 12 hours of undisturbed sleep without worrying about anything at all sounded like the greatest idea of all.

Her mind and her body needed to be taken care of, for a longer time than half an hour in the bath room which had been the longest period of time she had given herself to actually relax in the last weeks. Even the time she had spent with Roman on dates or at his or her place weren't relaxing for her. It felt like they had to make the most of the little time they spent with each other because both of them had a lot to do at the moment and this always made it a little bittersweet. It felt like she had so much to do and on top Thozi also had to handle a relationship. Roman was right it would have all been easier if she moved in with him but she wasn't ready to give up her independancy yet. She loved him, she really did but they had only been together for three months and for her this was too little to move in yet. For a little longer the drawer with her stuff at his place had to be enough.

While Paula was explaining that she would have known how to answer all of the questions, if she had the time to do it, Thozi checked her phone to see that she had missed a call from Roman.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Paula but Roman called and I want to call him back.” she told her friend.

“Hey, it's fine. I still need to go grocery shopping. You want to go out for a drink tonight?”

Paula smiled at her but even the make-up she had put on couldn't hide the fact that she hadn't gotten enough sleep in the last weeks either.

“Hell no. I'll doubt that I will get up today once I am home.” Thozi joked, they both laughed for a short moment and then they hugged each other goodbye.

Once Paula started moving away from her, Thozi called Roman back. It didn't even ring once before he picked up. He was such a phone junkie.

“Hi, darling...” he answered in a deep and calm voice.

“Hey, Ro. So you called me?” “Yeah, I did.” he simply answered but she could tell he was grinning by the sound of his voice.

“Okay, Ro. Do you want to tell me why?” she kept on asking.

“I just wanted to hear your beautiful voice.” he replied but went on when Thozi didn't answer because she was in awe  “Can you turn to your right?” “What?” Thozi was more than confused by his demand.

What did he expect to happen when she would turn to her right? How did he even know where she was?

“Just turn around for me, darling.” Thozi just shook her head thinking whatever and then turned around to see Roman standing about fifty meters away from her, leaning against his Audi with his phone next to his face. He waved and grinned when he saw her looking at him and then he ended their call.

With her mind somewhere between disbelief and confusion Thozi fastly walked over to where he was standing.

“What are you doing here?” she asked happily when she was close enough for him to hear.

“My girl had quite a hard time in the last weeks so I thought I would pick her up from her last exam and let her have a weekend during which I will spoil her with everything she wants.

“Whatever I want?” she asked.

“Sure.” “So we can go to Paris tonight?” “We both know that you don't want this.” Roman replied without hesitating for just a second.

“Darling, you look like you want to take a bath, order food, cuddle, watch a movie and fall asleep.”

“I would also like raw cookie dough...” Thozi added and Roman chuckled.

“We can do that, just get in the car and we'll go.” he answered opening the car door for her.

“Thank you, Ro.”

Thozi stood on her tip-toes to be able to reach his cheek and press a short kiss onto it.

“Anything for my girl.”

They both got into the car and on the ride Thozi critized that it technically wasn't a weekend as it was only Thursday and Roman told her to shut up and just enjoy it. Then she started playing her music over the speakers of the car and just relaxed. Apparently Roman was perfectly prepared although it would just be about 24h about Thozi until he had the next training session tomorrow in the afternoon but he already got her favourite sweets even in the car. Thozi loved getting Toblerone from her Swiss boyfriend.

During the car ride he was listening to her bragging about the exam like Paula had earlier and when they got home she  was exhausted but she felt like a heavy weight was lifted from her shoulders and their evening plans would do the rest.

About ten minutes after they had arrived Thozi was sitting on the toilet seat while Roman was preparing a bath for the two of them. He was humming 'Mrs Robinson' which was the last song they had heard on the car.

“It's too hot in here.” Roman complained.

“I like it exactly like this, especially when it is that cold outside at the moment.” Thozi told him and he smiled at her.

“I know, I know. That's why I turned the heating up so high but I can't stand it with my shirt on.” he winked while throwing a lush bath bomb into the water. She loved those but she rarely bought them because they were very expensive and should stay something special to treat herself, just like today.

“You know that I absolutely don't mind you taking it off.”

“I knoooow....”

As slow as possible Roman reached for the hem of his shirt and with a smooth motion took it off before posing for her just for a moment. Nevertheless the view was amazing. Thozi doubted that Roman even had one gram of fat on his body whenever she saw him naked, knowing the way he was eating even made this even more believable. Roman's superpower was rarely touching any sweets ever. He usually rather made himself some vegetables and Thozi thought this was incredible because she would be sitting next to him eating a chocolate bar and drinking a glass of wine, while Roman couldn't be bothered by it at all. He always stayed calm and didn't care about the food and drinks at all. Thozi was confused by it at first but then she learned to accept it.

“Close your mouth before you're dripping out of it.” Roman joked grinning at her.

“Haha...it's not my fault you look like this..” she joked sticking her tongue out at him. “You can't just help but stare at me, I know. My fault.” he laughed warmly.

“It is..” “You know we can do whatever you want tonight.” Another wink from him. “I know I know but believe it or not, I'm not actually in the mood even while seeing you like this. I just need cuddles and rest right now, Maybe tomorrow.” “No need to worry, darling. It's all about you, we do whatever you want for how long you want to.” “Thank you.” she replied with a shy smile on her face.

“There is nothing I would rather do.”

Roman took some steps towards her and pressed a kiss onto her forehead and they fell silent. His hand ruffled through her hair and she just closed her eyes, enjoying the moment, enjoying the silence, enjoying the fact that he was here right now. It only lasted about two minutes and then Roman interrupted the silence.

“The water should be almost ready by now. Why don't you get undressed and into the bathtub while I'll get the clothes for afterwards.” Thozi wasn't in the state of mind to reply something verbally so she just nodded and followed his order. It didn't take her long to undress herself, just leaving the clothes on the floor where they fell down from her body and then she directly hopped into the warm water closing her eyes not caring about preparing towels or anything in the world, just waiting for Roman to come and cuddle close to him. She didn't bother to open up her eyes when she heard him coming back into the bathroom and neither did he bother to talk. For about two minutes she could hear him gettting ready, putting on a relaxing spotify playlist and then undressing himself.

Gently Roman pushed her a little forward to get into the bathtub behind her but even when he came into the bath they kept silent. He seemed to sense that she needed the silence right now to relax and she was so thankful for the way he understood her without her having to explain it to him, she couldn't put it into words. Thozi never had a boyfriend like this before and she could never imagine someone treating her better than Roman did.

He opened her pony tail and then she relaxed with her back against his chest and his arms held her tight and kept her safe making her forget about everything and anything, nothing seemed important except for the moment and the feeling. She forget about UNI and everything she needed to do within the next weeks, she forgot that Roman would be away again in a few days for the champions league, she forgot about all her thoughts and worries.

Thozi couldn't tell how much time had passed when Roman asked her if she was asleep.

“Not entirely...” she replied slowly opening her eyes.

“But almost?” Roman asked laughing whole heartedly at how tired she sounded.

“Yeah.”

“That's okay. Do you want to get out, order some food and cuddle on the couch?”

“Mhm.” Roman laughed again.

“Alright.”

Then he got out of the bathtub, got a towel to dry himself and then wrapped it around his waist. Half awake Thozi looked at him admiringly again but this time he just gave her a warm smile and grabbed another towel.

“Get out and come here.” he requested kindly while holding up the towel to dry her off, it reminded her of the way her mum always used to do it when she was very little and she thought it was extremely cute.

Thozi got up and stepped out of the bathtub onto a towel Roman had put there and then he already wrapped the towel around her upper body and closed his arms around her pulling her close to him again but this time with her face to his chest. They had the perfect height difference for her to lay her head against his chest and feel small and protected while he could rest his chin on her head, just like they were made for each other. But after about twenty seconds Roman parted from her. Thozi couldn't stop a whine from escaping her throat.

“Just so you don't get cold. We can cuddle as much as you want.” he reminded her and she nodded.

Then he started dressing himself and she did the same.

“Ro, I'm pretty sure I never brought this sports bra here. I only wore it at home...” she told him because she was confused how her favourite bra came here.

She didn't even think of bringing it here once because she knew that she needed to have it at home and maybe she would forget it at Roman's.

“Yeah, I know. But you told me that you loved it, so I thought I'm gonna treat my girl the way she deserves to be treated and bought two more of them.” he explained.

“Really? Oh gosh, thank you so much, Ro. You are such an amazing boyfriend!”

“Anything for my girl.” He smiled and seemed glad that she was so happy about it.

“Okay, you take your time and get ready while I go and order your favourite food, alright?” “Alright, thank you again, Ro.”

He just smiled at her warmly and got out of the room before closing the door. Thozi lazily got into a pair of leggings, the sports bra and one of Roman's huge hoodies before drying her hair with a towel at first and then with the blowdryer so it wouldn't be dripping but she wasn't motivated enough to dry it fully so she stopped after a few minutes. With a towel around her shoulder she made her way into the kitchen where Roman was preparing something she guessed to be hot cocoa.

“Do you need help?” she asked after entering but he shook his head.

“You can go to the living room and relax.” he told her but she didn't want to.

“But I want to be around you...”

“Then take a seat here.” he encouraged her with his brown eyes resting on her.

Thozi nodded and hopped onto the counter leaning back a little and watching as Roman prepared two cups of hot cocoa. Sometimes even Roman liked to have something sweet. He even searched for some marshmallows to make the drink as sweet as possible and she just enjoyed being around him, seeing him move, getting a smile every now and then from him.

While the microwave heated the milk up Roman came to her and hugged her tight again. It was easy for him even though she was sitting on the counter, she wasn't even as tall as him. She couldn't ask for a better boyfriend and even felt a little bad about thinking of their relationship as a burden in the last weeks.

“I love you, Ro.” she whispered against his chest.

It was the first time she said it and she meant it in the most honest way possible.

@be-your-own-anchorx @buerking38 @degea-drama-llama @avril-rush-goose @imaweirdobutyoulikeit @minthurricane @team-erikdurm @geekyyears9 @madtimer (just gonna tag you as well) @iuliaaa21 @hopelessdreamer11 @thedoctorismyparabatai

#roman bürki #roman bürki imagine #roman bürki fanfiction #my writing

[jemmafitzsimmons]

make it work, make it sweet - a fitzsimmons fic

Written for the anon that requested fs + I did the dishes. 

Summary: When Jemma hopes to surprise Fitz for his birthday with something special, things don’t quite go according to plan. (Sci-Ops Era/established relationship)

Read below or on AO3!

~

With her grocery sacks cutting into her arm as she trekked up to the fourth floor of her apartment complex, Jemma cursed herself for forgetting the reusable bags she’d left hanging on the pantry door. Luckily, that was the only mishap she’d encountered since embarking on her day’s plans. With Fitz out for the day, it was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of their small but still fully functional kitchen in their shared flat to make him something special. They usually didn’t go crazy on birthdays, but he’d taken her to the local arboretum the afternoon of her birthday last year, and with him being 23 days older than her, it gave her almost an entire year to prepare something spectacular for his day of celebration. But even with plenty of time to prepare, it didn’t make the task of surprising him any easier.  

Unfortunately, she wasn’t necessarily the best at thinking up surprises for her boyfriend ever since they’d established that Fitz was much more talented in the realm of romantic gestures. Preparing something special for someone who would be pleased with just about anything was a difficult task to narrow down, so it took a great deal of brainstorming before she settled on the perfect gift. She knew buying him something extravagant wasn’t an option since they were trying to keep their possessions as minimal as possible in their cramped flat. And she knew a surprise party would likely spook him more than anything else, him often preferring to spend time alone with her rather than with a large crowd of people.

It was only when they were invited to a colleague’s birthday party in the summer did she suddenly come up with a plan as they came across the subject of birthday cakes.

“It’s good,” Jemma uttered through a mouthful of vanilla cake as they hid in a corner of the loud and overly crowded patio. “Could be better.”

At her side, Fitz shook his head. “Jemma, are you really judging the cake? It’s sweet, it’s got loads of icing, and it’s free.” Poking his fork into her slice, he stole a bite before she brought her plate closer to her chest protectively.

“Yes, but it’s so boring,” she explained, not impressed by the simple vanilla sheet cake that easily fed a crowd but wasn’t up to her standards for desserts. “You only get one birthday a year, so you might as well make a cake that’s just as special.”

Fitz shrugged. “Well, it’s just a cake. I can’t even remember the last time I had a birthday cake like this.”

Putting down her fork, Jemma tilted her head. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Oh. Well, it’s not like I’ve never had a birthday cake,” he told her. “I had ones when I was really little, but once it was just the two of us, my mum would always take me to this bakery down the street to get a slice there.”

“Ah,” Jemma replied plainly.

“I didn’t mind,” he said, shrugging. “I think she always hated having so much leftover, and I didn’t want her to go to the trouble of making one, anyway.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

Upon learning this fact, Jemma instantly felt horrible for not thinking to make him a cake in the past. With their last few years spent at the Academy and now at Sci-Ops together, their schedules were so incredibly busy that they usually settled for store-bought cupcakes on birthdays, the single candles giving them just enough light to make wishes for the next year they were to spend at each other’s side. Now, all Jemma could think about was making up for lost time and what would hopefully be a delighted look on Fitz's face when she ultimately presented him with his freshly baked cake.

Once she learned that Fitz’s mum would be in town for his birthday, Jemma suggested that he should spend the day with her, and then the three of them could all meet up for dinner afterwards, giving Jemma time to prepare his gift in secret. Based on her skill level, she calculated precisely how much time she needed to bake and decorate the cake in time for it to be ready for dessert that night. A small white lie about having lunch with Daisy allowed her to leave their flat in the morning without question (but not before giving Fitz his first birthday present of the day, which—based on her observation—he seemed to enjoy tremendously).

Of course, instead of meeting Daisy, Jemma hopped over to the supermarket to collect fresh ingredients, wanting nothing short of the best for Fitz’s soon to be glorious birthday cake. With all the proper pieces purchased and arriving home just in time, she felt her plans were going off without a hitch. That was until she swung open the flat door and stumbled inside, letting out a loud gasp at the sight in front of her.

The countertops were nearly spotless, the dishes were laying in their rack to dry, but the most alarming sight before her with her boyfriend with a bottle of all-purpose cleaner in hand and a thin layer of sweat coating the back of his neck.

“Oh!” Jemma exclaimed, forgetting to ease the door shut, so the loud slam sent Fitz turning around at the noise.

“Hey, Jemma. You’re back early,” he said happily.  

“Fitz. You’re… you’re here,” she said, unable to move from her shock.

“Yeah, did you go shopping?” he asked. He gestured toward the fridge. “We’re low on milk, I think.”

Slowly, Jemma tried to lower the grocery sacks without losing her grip to hide them behind her back. “Yeah. Wha-what are you doing here?”

Fitz chuckled lightly, resuming his work of scrubbing down a corner of their kitchen island. “I’d like to ask you the same question,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “since you said you were meeting Daisy for lunch.”  

“I had…errands to run first,” she answered before clearing her throat. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Aren’t you happy that I’m cleaning?”

“Not today, I’m not. Aren’t you supposed to be spending the day with your mum?”

“Change of plans,” Fitz explained as he continued to scrub at the countertop. “Got a call saying her flight’s running late, so she’s coming in tomorrow instead. Which is actually better, because now I have more time to make sure the flat is in order, so she doesn’t think we live like slobs.” He looked up, raising his hands. “Not that we do, of course, but you know. Don’t want her to worry. Anyway, I did the dishes, laundry’s almost done.”

“Oh,” Jemma replied softly. “Right, okay.”

“I didn’t text you because I didn’t want you to cancel on Daisy for my sake.”

Nodding, Jemma inched one of the grocery sacks higher on her arm, still struggling with its weight.

“Here,” Fitz said, putting down the cleaner and rushing forward. “I got it.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” she insisted, quickly pulling the bags away as he reached forward to keep the ingredients a secret. But her swift movement resulted in yet another mishap of the day as the thin plastic of one of the grocery sacks tore open from the bottom.

Before Jemma had time to react, the contents went tumbling to the floor, the sacks of flour and sugar landing with a heavy thump but luckily staying mostly intact. Tragically, the jug of milk and the jar of rainbow sprinkles were not as lucky.

“Oh, no, no, no!” Jemma cried as she trailed after the rolling jar, the sugary morsels now decorating a good portion of their kitchen floor. As she struggled, muttering a few expletives to herself, Fitz got to his knees to collect the other fallen ingredients while he took paper towels to the growing puddle under the milk jug.

“Well, so much for the milk. And wow, that… is a lot of sprinkles,” he said through a laugh.

“Ugh, this is a disaster,” Jemma whispered as she tried to collect the sprinkles into a pile, hanging her head so Fitz couldn’t see her expression.

It was happening again, she thought to herself painfully. No matter how meticulous she was in her preparations, her attempts at being romantic were somehow always falling apart, and without warning, a lump started to form in her throat as her eyes filled with tears.

“It’s okay, I’ll clean it up,” Fitz told her before getting to his feet and searching for their broom and dustpan.

“Thank you,” Jemma replied, giving up her attempts to collect the sprinkles to lean against the bottom cupboards of the kitchen in defeat. “I just… I had plans all set and stone, and they only work if you’re out of the flat all day.”

“What sort of plans?” Fitz asked from the other side of the kitchen.

Through a deep sigh, Jemma shook her head. “Nothing, it’s…” She paused, sniffling and wiping under her eyelid. “It’s nothing. I’ll make it work. Somehow.”

“Well, do you want me to leave?” Fitz asked while he started to sweep the floor. But once he got around the island and found Jemma leaning against the cupboard, he froze. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

Looking up, she gave him a weak smile. “How is it so easy for you?”

“What?”

“To be romantic,” she said quietly.

At her words, Fitz tilted his head, giving her a sympathetic look.

“You always… take me by surprise and everything is always so unbelievably perfect,” Jemma explained. “I, on the other hand, am always running into trouble. First it was the holiday that didn’t work out because of Weaver’s last minute project, then there was that astrophysics lecture that I was going to surprise you with, but then you had already bought us tickets. And now I can’t even get your bloody birthday present right.” Shaking her head, she pressed a hand to her forehead.

As she expected, Fitz balanced the broom against the counter before he made his way to her side on the floor. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he urged her to turn towards him. “Come here,” he whispered.

WIthout a word, Jemma sunk her head to his shoulder and curled into him, swinging her legs over his to settle in his lap. “I’m sorry,” she said after a few moments, wiping the few tears away and letting herself laugh for the first time as she took in the mess that was their kitchen and her current state. “I’m just being silly.”

“No, you’re not,” Fitz assured her, moving a stray hair that had fallen in front of her face. “I’m sorry I ruined your plans.”

“It’s not your fault. It was an accident.” Letting out a small sigh, she shrugged. “But still. I don’t understand how it always goes so well for you every time. I try to plan something nice for you and it always seems to burst into flames.”

It was his turn to laugh, which Jemma found annoyingly adorable considering her state of mind. After, when he looked at her with a more serious expression, she waited for him to explain.

“Did you know…” he finally said, “that for every seemingly perfect date or gift, there are probably about three failures in-between?”

Jemma scrunched up her face. “What do you mean?”

“Do you really think that the time we stayed in during that crazy thunderstorm with Chinese take away and that Austen movie marathon—that was plan A?” He let out another chuckle before he continued. “That was supposed to be a picnic in the afternoon and then stargazing at night. Turns out I vastly misjudged the weather patterns that day, along with my skill in making sandwiches that even come close to yours.”

“Aw, but that was a good night,” Jemma assured him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It really was,” he agreed. “And then those flowers I got you after you passed your final Academy exams? Those were purchased because the dwarf prototype I was originally working on may or may not have exploded in the lab.”

With widened eyes, Jemma looked back up at him. “Oh, God. You never told me that,” she said, astonished.  

“Well, the miscalculation helped us finish the project in the end, so I didn’t feel the need to inform you about that bit,” Fitz admitted through a half shrug.

Jemma let out a faint laugh.

“But see?” he said, poking her playfully in the side. “What you think is perfect and effortless is actually a great deal of throwing things together on my end, and that’s okay. ”

She nodded, already feeling immensely better about her soiled surprise.

“Whatever you end up doing,” Fitz went on, “even if it’s not exactly what you originally planned, I’ll always love it because it’s from you.”

“I know,” Jemma said, her voice low. “I just wanted things to go right this time.”

“Alright, spill,” Fitz said in a lighter tone. “What were you planning?”

Pulling back to look at him fully in the eye, Jemma sighed. “I was going to bake you a cake,” she finally confessed, her voice as small as the smile growing on her face.

It took a moment for Fitz to respond, but then his eyes turned bright. “Really?”

“Yes, I know it doesn’t sound that exciting, but wasn’t just any cake,” she gushed. “It was going to be this beautiful, magnificent, delicious cake. And it was going to have six layers—”

“Six?!”

“Yes, and sprinkles, and a chocolate drizzle, and I was going to surprise you and your mum when we all got back from dinner.”

“Jemma, that…” Fitz shook his head in disbelief. “That sounds amazing.”

“I just wanted to do something special for a change.” Taking hold of his hand, she looked down at her lap.

“You still can,” he told her reassuringly, rubbing her back. “But now you can have my help.”

“But it was supposed to be a surprise,” Jemma replied, pouting.

“Okay, then, how about I help you with the baking part, and then I’ll leave the decorating up to you?” he offered.

Jemma thought for a moment before she pursed her lips, nodding. “That does sound like a good idea. An assistant would make things a lot easier.”

“Assistant?”

Rolling her eyes dramatically, Jemma shook her head. “Alright, fine. Partner. But be honest, Fitz, how much baking have you done in your life?”

“I’ve done enough,” he answered, looking a bit insulted by her question, but smiling nonetheless. “And it’s just science, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and good judgement.”

“And fun, I’m hoping. Plus, with an expert at my side, I’m sure I’ll learn just fine.”

“Yes, you will,” she told him happily. After giving him a small peck on his cheek, not a trace of disappointment left within her, Jemma got to her feet and pulled Fitz up. “Right, then. Let’s get to work.”

~

It took nearly five hours, but eventually, the two of them sunk heavily onto the sofa before cutting into what Jemma thought was one of her most brilliant creations to date. After Fitz went out to replace the spilled milk and rainbow sprinkles, they set about a routine of weighing, mixing, pouring, and then finally watching the cakes rise in the oven as they transformed before their eyes. As they’d agreed, Fitz stayed in the living room while Jemma got about icing and decorating the cake. And when, at last, it was finished and she presented it to him proudly—all six layers of soft and springy sponge towered up high with rich buttercream—Fitz seemed lost for words.

At the moment, they’d already polished off two slices and were now sharing a third, Jemma’s legs draped over Fitz’s lap as they balanced the plate between them.

“It really is spectacular,” Fitz told her, patting her knee.  

“Thank you,” Jemma replied lovingly.  

“And you technically made me three cakes,” he pointed out.  

“Well, I didn’t know which one you would like best, so I thought… Neapolitan. Felt like the safest route.”

“It’s bloody delicious is what it is,” he mumbled through a mouthful of the strawberry layer.

Once the third slice was demolished and they were left with only crumbs, Fitz took Jemma’s hand and pulled her closer to his side.

“You did well. Very romantic, indeed,” he told her, his lips pressed to her forehead.  

“Good,” she said into his neck. “And maybe... this can be the first of many special cakes in the future?” She looked up with a raised brow in a hopeful expression.

She saw something shift behind his eyes then, as if a new thought was entering his brain at that precise moment. She liked to think it was the same one running through her mind as well, a future filled with many more special occasions made brighter with the addition of delicious desserts, and maybe even one where the cake was the centerpiece of a grand celebration, an occasion much more memorable than any birthday.

Eventually, he nodded, his smile growing wider as he leaned in. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” he whispered before capturing her in a soft kiss, the taste of his lips just as sweet as his words, the sugary treat they’d just devoured, and what turned out to be quite the romantic night after all.

~

🎂

See the cake Jemma baked here (from Cupcake Jemma! 💫)

#fitzsimmons #fsfic #fstag #thefitzsimmonsnetwork #aosficnet #agents of shield #leo fitz #jemma simmons #fic #mine #mel writes #oneshot* #cutting it close but it's still fitz's birthday :)

[panda-noosh]

Unexpected Dates {Matt Holt x Reader}

Words: 2850

  Summary: Matt has a thing for crazy, spontaneous dates.

  Notes: masterlist - fluff? On a sunday? On my blog? We're evolving, everyone.

  Matt always had a special way of knocking whenever it came to entering your home.

  On the days where your parents were home, he would knock three times, one after the other – no more, no less. Three straight knocks that rang through the house and warned you that it was Matt at the door – that would then prompty lead to you barrelling down the stairs, yelling about how nobody should touch the door, as you would get it.

  Most people in your household already knew the rules – three knocks, and they were best to simply evacuate the premises and get as far away from the front door as they possibly could, because once you and Matt were face-to-face with one another, there was truly no turning back.

    You heard those special three knocks on your door, bright and early. You had barely been awake for fifteen minutes, still scrolling through your Instagram feed as you waited for Matt to reply to your 'good morning' text – once you heard those three knocks, though, you became aware as to why you had received no reply just yet.

  You sprang out of your covers, bolting down the stairs. You could hear your brother laughing at your eagerness as you ran past his room, could hear your mother sighing as she poked her head out of the kitchen door just to make sure it was Matt and not somebody waiting on her.

    You gave her a smile, sliding to a stop just by the door before you threw it open, immediately greeting your boyfriend with a large grin – one he gave back to you just as much.

    “What are you doing here?” you asked, throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling him into a loose hug. He stumbles into your grip, one hand holding onto his car keys whilst the other winds around your waist and holds you close to him.

    “We have plans,” is all he said. You pulled back, confusion clearly written on your features.

   “We do?”

    He grinned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “We do. So I suggest you get ready.”

   Matt stepped into the house before you could protest or any further questions. You stumbled after him, kicking the door closed as he waltzed over to your mother and gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek, doing what Matt does best and charming her within the first two seconds of being in her presence.

   You folded your arms over your chest, rushing after him. Your slippers scraped across the tiled floor, causing Matt to scrunch up his shoulders with the sound of it.

    “I'm gonna need a bit more detail than that,” you said.

  Matt sat down at the kitchen table, politely refusing your mothers offer of a cup of tea before turning to you with an almost tired expression on his face, one eyebrow raised as if asking you why you had to question him in the first place. “Do you not trust me?”

  “It's a little odd that you're showing up at my house at 9 in the morning and telling me to get ready, and then not telling me why.”

   “It's a surprise,” Matt insisted, reaching over and taking your hands in his. You looked down at him, watching as he put his lips in a pout and batted his eyelashes as if he were a child trying to persuade their parents. “Please go and get ready. Something casual. I promise it'll be worth it.”

   You raised a brow.

  Your mother scoffed, stepping in and shoving your shoulder gently. “Just go, Y/N. It's not everyday you get a handsome young man coming to the door and offering to take you places. Make the most of it whilst your legs still work.”   “That could mean a lot of things, Mum.”

  “Go.”

  You groaned but let the subject drop. You span on your heel and sprinted up the stairs, pondering on what Matt could possibly have planned; it wasn't a secret that he was spontaneous. He enjoyed showing up at your house during all hours of the day, requesting your presence on a late-night trip to the grocery shop, or wanting you there as he tried to climb a new tree he had found in the park the night before. You had never been bothered by these particular times – in fact, they were part of the reason why you had fallen so deeply in love with Matthew Holt, the idiot that you had known for years. He was himself, independent and yet he still insisted on asking for your assistance whenever he got in one of these moods; it made you feel wanted, special in some ways.

   You threw on a t-shirt and jeans before making your way back downstairs, still having absolutely no clue as to what Matt could possibly have in mind. You could hear him and your mother talking about something as you walked towards the kitchen, laughing about whatever joke Matt had decided to tell or whatever embarrassing fact your mother had spurted out as a way to make conversation.

   You rounded the corner, Matt immediately looking up at you and grinning with those clear teeth and big eyes that had your heart pounding in your chest. His chestnut hair had been pushed up today, a bandanna wrapped around his forehead that was perfect for the gleaming weather outside.

    “Well, don't you look summer ready,” he said. You flushed as he stood up and made his way towards you, taking your hands again before turning to look at your mother. “I'll take good care of her, Mrs L/N. She'll get home to you in one piece.”

  Your mother nodded. “You two have fun.”

  And it was so cheesy, you were aware as you walked out of the house and towards Matt's black car. The entire situation in itself was one straight out of those novels you used to read when you were younger; a person, completely head over heels in love with another person who was far too out of their league to even try. But then that person ends up being some sweet, soft sweetheart who gets along with your mother, and takes you on spontaneous dates and walks you to the door and kisses you good night and you have no idea what you did to deserve such kindness in your life.

   But you don't question it. You let Matt drag you towards his car, let him drive with the radio blasting, the two of you barrelling out lyrics to a song you've only heard once before. It echoes off the wall of the car as you try and watch the scenery pass by, try to guess where it is exactly Matt is planning on taking you, but all ideas go out of the window as you descend further and further into the country side, completely unaware as to where it is you're going.

   “Any hints?” you asked, reaching forward and turning the radio down a little bit.

   Matt shook his head. “Afraid not.”

  You groaned. “Matt, come on! You could be taking me into the woods to kill me right now for all I know.”

   “And why would I tell you if I was?”

  “Not exactly comforting.”

   He chuckled, taking one hand off of the wheel and placing it on your knee. You shivered beneath his touch; how he always managed to have that affect on you, you didn't know. It was slightly embarrassing, and you found yourself flushing at your own reactions.

    “I said it before, and I'll say it again – you just need to trust me. You'll enjoy yourself once you know what it is.”

   “So it's something I like?”

  He shrugged. “It's something I like, so naturally, since you're my girlfriend, you should like it too.”

  You rolled your eyes, but the smile was still very much evident on your face; you couldn't hide your excitement. Though you were being left in the dark, you did trust Matt – more than anything. He would never take you to somewhere he genuinely thought you'd have a bad time at. You would have fun today, whether it be because you liked his plans, or just because you were with him.

   The drive took a little less than an hour. You and Matt had spent the car ride singing famous pop songs, laughing as you fed him chips you had picked up from a nearby McDonalds on your way through the countryside. The car ride in itself would have been a perfect place, but you found yourself grinning even more whenever you noticed the tiny zoo-like area Matt was pulling into.

   He drove past a sign proclaiming the place as 'Will's Petting Zoo' and immediately your excitement was heightened tenfold.

   You span around in your seat, slapping his arm. He chuckled, having already been smiling long before you had made your excitement clear to him.

  “Are you serious?” you exclaimed.

   He nodded his head, keeping his eyes trained on the bumpy road in front of him. “I told you you could trust me.”

    The excitement only grew, a knot in your stomach that tightened as you and Matt hopped out of the car and started walking towards the entrance. The place was adorable, wooden barriers set up everywhere, fresh green grass being eaten and walked upon by cute little farm animals who genuinely seemed to be enjoying the attention they were getting. Families waddled up to them, reached their hands out to stroke them. Little toddlers screeched in excitement as lambs came up to lick the food from their fingers, parents giggling, watching their kids with fond smiles as they enjoyed their day out.

  And then there was you and Matt, holding hands as you walked into the entrance. You must have been the only two there without a child, but neither of you cared. You gawked at the animals as if you were children yourselves, pointing and grinning and laughing, jokingly telling each other that you needed one.

    You were trapped in your own little world, everything else blocked out with only you and Matt existing amongst these cute little farm animals who just seemed to appreciate everything for how it was; and it was that simplicity that had your stomach spinning and your grin widening.

   You dragged Matt over to the lambs at long last. They were what you were most excited about seeing, but Matt had all but dragged you towards the piglets before seeing anything else.

  “Lambs are scary,” he moaned, throwing his head back as you tugged him into the tiny little field the lambs were prancing around in.

   “They're cute,” you shot back. “Oh, I wanna stroke one!”

   “It's gonna bite you.”

   “It'll love me. Just you watch.”

   Matt pouted, standing back with his arms folded over his chest. He watched you closely – you could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your head as you kneeled down and ever so slowly reached your hand out, prompting the small lamb you had targeted to walk towards you. For a moment, it didn't move; it merely glanced at your outstretched fingers, it's nose twitching and it's beady eyes glistening in confusion. You wiggled your fingertips, making it flinch before the interest took over and it was slowly making it's way towards you.

   Matt gasped. “No way!”

   You giggled, too afraid of ruining the moment to turn around and reply to him. You kept your hand outstretched until the lamb was sniffing at your fingertips, and before long, you had your fingers knotted in it's curly hair, stroking it lovingly.

   Matt joined you, kneeling down and petting the lamb himself. He was grinning from ear to ear, the happiest you had seen him in a long time, which was certainly saying something. Matt had to be one of the most cheerful people you had ever met, but now he simply seemed at ease, as if the world was disappearing around him all because he had the chance to stroke a baby lamb.

    “Thank you for this,” you said, nudging him with your elbow, causing the lamb to flinch back in shock at your sudden movements.

   “Don't thank me,” he replied. “This was more for my entertainment than it was yours.”

  You scoffed, shoving him again only harder this time. His eyes popped open behind the spectacles he only wore on the odd occasion, his body tipping and landing in the grass. He winced as his hand slammed into the mud pile beside him, a burst of laughter escaping you before you could hold it back.

   You hadn't even meant to do that, but the look of pure shock on his face was enough to send you reeling.

   He groaned, looking up at you. “That was very rude.”

  “That's what happens,” you said through laughter, turning back to the lamb who had taken to watching you and Matt curiously, having backed up in fear of something happening to it. You reached your fingertips out again, wiggling them to try and get the baby to come back to you. It sniffed, slowly stalking towards you again-

   But Matt was quicker.

   He had hauled himself to his feet, wrapped his arms around your waist and was dragging you away from the lamb in a matter of seconds. A squeal of shock escaped your throat before you quickly cut it off by slamming your hand over your mouth, waving an apology to the shocked parents who surrounded the lambs enclosure.

  “Matt, let me go!” you hissed, wiggling around in his grip but his arm was iron tight around your waist, lifting you off of the floor like you weighed nothing.

   He didn't respond as he walked out of the lambs pen. You continued to struggle, waving your head back and forth and trying your hardest to pry his hands from around your middle, but he was stronger than you, and he seemed to have a lot more dedication to whatever task he had in mind than you did.

   And then you realised just what it was he was heading towards.

   Horror flooded you, your eyes popping open. “Matt, don't you dare.”    He smirked this time, still not looking at you; his gaze was pointed directly towards the piglets pen – the very same piglets pen you had been moments before; the very same piglets pen that was covered in more sludge than grass.

  You were vigorous now, not caring what adults were looking at the two imbeciles currently parading through the crowd. You knew what he had in mind – he was Matt Holt, for crying out loud. Nothing could ever be simple with him; you push him over into dried mud and he has to take things one step further.

  “Matt, no! I'll get your car all messed up! You'll have to clean it!”

   “I was gonna do that this weekend anyway. Might as well make a mess of it whilst I still can.”

   And then he was stepping into the piglets pen, and his grip was loosening from your waist and you were clinging onto his shirt for dear life, but there was truly no point. He laughed loudly as you fell from his arms, landing in the mud with a splash.

  And despite yourself, despite the gasps emitting from the crowd now forming around you, you couldn't help but laugh along with him.

   It was stupid, and sounded so out of place. You were drenched, sludge now staining the back of your outfit, the ends of your hair, but you couldn't stop laughing. Hearing Matt double over in his own amusement, one arm wrapped around his stomach as if he was afraid he would laugh so much he threw up – there was something about it that caused you to throw your head back and laugh right along with him.

   You glared up at him even as you laughed, trying to at least make it seem like you minded – at least a little bit. He looked down at you, before dropping to his knees at the side of you and pressing a kiss to your lips. You weren't sure why, but you didn't complain. Instead, you kissed him back and placed your hand on the back of his head, messing his hair up with the dirt that was staining your palms; he didn't seem to mind. In fact, the action made him smile against your lips before he was pulling away, grabbing a handful of dirt and rubbing it down the front of his shirt.

   You raised a brow at him as the crowd around you began to shuffle away, realising nothing was wrong.

   “What are you doing?” you questioned.

   “Now we're both dirty,” he replied. “So your mother doesn't kill me when I drive you home.”

#voltron #voltron headcanon #voltron fluff #voltron fic #voltron legendary defenders #voltron scenario #voltron imagine #matt holt #matt holt x reader #matt holt self insert #matt holt fluff #fluffy #my writing #matt holt voltron #voltron matt holt #takashi shirogane #shiro voltron #keith kogane #keith voltron #lance mcclain #lance voltron #hunk garrett #hunk voltron #pidge gunderson #pidge voltron

[captainjanegay]

[1D] tell me there are things that you regret

Title: tell me there are things that you regret Ship: Ziall (Zayn Malik x Niall Horan) Genre: angst with happy ending Rating: T Word count: ~4,4k Summary: “I bumped into Niall yesterday.” Zayn was so busy carrying two cartons of milk to the fridge and he almost missed those words. Almost.

Because whenever that name was mentioned, he still felt like a little spark was going over his whole body. A/N: ok, i’ll try not to babble for too long, promise. I’d like to dedicate tht fic for two incredibly special and lovely people. @lepetitcomte aka my lovely mum who gave me the request. I have to say that I hated her at first, because I can’t and I didn’t want to write angst. But then she told me to fixt the whole thing. So I did.

The second person I want to mention is @farfromthstars DID U GUYS KNOW THAT IT’S PIA’S BDAY TODAY?! I thought that today will be a great date to post this fic so I can provide you with some new Ziall content and (hopefully!) make you smile a bit ;’) ‘m sorry I haven’t managed to do anything just for you, promise to do better next year djasdjak Anyway! I love you so much, you deserve the Universe and then some more, I hope you’ll get all the hugs in the world, including an one (or more) from Niall ;’) I wish you the happiest birthday, love <3

Read on AO3

the fic wasn’t beta’d and all mistakes are my own. you’ve been warned, i’m sorry dakjdak

There was a soft knock on the door. Zayn knew who he’d find on the other side before he even went to answer it. There weren’t that many people visiting him and besides, when you lived all your life with someone, you got used to their habits. Even their knocks.

“Hello, love,” Zayn was greeted by a big smile as soon as he opened the door and a pair of warm arms tugged him closer, crushing him in a hug.

For a woman her size, Trisha Malik was pretty strong. At least when it came to hugs.

“Hi, mum,” he answered, pressing a kiss to his mum’s cheek. “What are you doing here?”

Just as Zayn expected, she almost completely ignored his question and walked past him to get to the kitchen. Only then Zayn noticed that she was carrying two bags, probably filled with food. Trisha started explaining that she just was in the neighbourhood and she decided to check on her only son - who she wasn’t seeing often enough, of course. Both of them knew that it was pure nonsense, but nobody said a word. It was always like this.

Before Zayn reached the kitchen, the counter was already halfway filled with groceries and boxes with homemade goodies.

“You’re aware that I can do shopping on my own? And that I also have a cooker?”

“I have doubts if you even use it. You’re forgetting to eat properly again, you think I don’t know you?” Trisha sent him a glare over her shoulder. “You’re getting skinnier and skinnier every time I see you!”

“You’ve seen me three days ago, mum. And you said the exact same thing. I think you’re exaggerating a bit, ya know?”

Despite his words, Zayn couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. It was nice to have someone that cared about him. Even if it was just his mum. Besides, his mama’s meals always were the highlight of his days.

For a few moments he only watched his mum shifting around the kitchen. Sometimes Zayn thought that she knew this place better than he did, even though he lived in this apartment for a few years now. And he did cook from time to time, despite his mum’s accusations.

To not feel like an alien in his own house, Zayn moved from where he was leaning against the doorframe and helped Trisha unpack all the food she’d brought. He also tried to keep up with the updates on their family and friends that his mum was giving him. It turned out to be harder than packing groceries away. To be honest, he didn’t really listened that carefully, it was a lot of information and he didn’t even cared about half of it. One thing was for sure - he didn’t inherit wordiness from his mother.

“I bumped into Niall yesterday.”

Zayn was so busy carrying two cartons of milk to the fridge and he almost missed those words. Almost.

Because whenever that name was mentioned, he still felt like a little spark was going over his whole body. It startled him hard enough, that one of the cartons he was holding, fell on the floor with a loud thud.

“Shit,” Zayn mumbled under his breath, picking up the container and clearing his throat awkwardly. “That’s- Um, that’s great. How’s he doing?”

His heart started pounding faster, which was absolutely ridiculous. He really shouldn’t be reacting like that. Not anymore. But… Zayn really didn’t know if he wanted to know the answer for a questions he’s just asked. If he was ready for it.

“Have you talked to him lately?” His mum said instead, as if she could tell that Zayn was having a tiny internal crisis even when he tried to hide behind the fridge’s door.

She probably could.

“I…,” Zayn started, unsure. “Um, we texted? Earlier this month or so, don’t remember.”

Of course he did remember and it wasn’t even close to this two weeks of October that had passed. The last time was about 5 months ago. Zayn texted him about Slow Hands being a great banger and that he loved it. Niall thanked him. That was all. Zayn remembered it painfully well. His mum didn’t have to know that, though.

Trisha glared at Zayn, probably hadn’t believed him at all. “We haven’t really had time to catch up properly, he was in a rush, as you all always are. But that’s understandable, his album is coming out in a few days, right?”

It took a lot of Zayn’s self control to stop a heavy sigh from escaping his mouth. Why did his mother want to talk about Niall so badly? Zayn knew why - just to mess with him. Or maybe because she adored Niall with passion, like everyone else always did. Probably both. Still, it was really unfair she made him go through this. Mothers shouldn't do things like this.

“Yeah, I think it is?” he nodded, trying to sound casual about it. He knew exactly when it’s out. He hadn’t really checked any social media in a while, hadn’t listened to the radio. And yet, he still knew that Flicker is out on October 20th, which happened to be tomorrow. It was hard not to know this, when posters with Niall’s face on them were hunting Zayn for a good two weeks. The Universe really did hate him.

And it was obviously just a coincidence that his mother picked that day to pay him a visit.

“I’ve heard his single the other day, they were playing it on the radio. It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?”

Closing his eyes for a second, Zayn took a deep breath and straightened up. It was starting to become suspicious that he was crouching with his head in the fridge for so long, so he needed to finally close it. That didn’t mean he was ready to face his mother who was watching him carefully.

“Um, I… I haven’t really had time to listen to it yet. Bet it’s wonderful, though. His previous ones had been really aces so why this one wouldn’t?” He said, making his way to the other side of the kitchen, aiming for the cooker. “Do you want some tea? I’ll fix us some, yeah?”

Tea was always a good idea, especially when it created an opportunity to run away from his own mum. Zayn loved her more than anything, but sometimes she was too much. And she wasn’t subtle at all.

Luckily, Trisha seemed to get the hint and she dropped the topic, telling Zayn about how Safaa was doing in school and what was happening at home - that of course he wasn’t visiting enough - in general. Zayn was glad to focus on that and not of his former bandmate that still had this weird effect on him.

It wasn’t until later, when they sat by the table, all the groceries put away, a cup of tea in each hand, something bubbling happily in a pot his mum put on the cooker a while ago. Zayn was content with the relative silence, having his mum on the other side of the table and not having to worry about anything important at the moment. But it would be too good of an afternoon if it had stayed this way.

“You really should talk to him, you know?”

Zayn flinched, turning his head towards his mum.

“Who?” he asked dumbly. Considering the look on Trisha’s face, he knew exactly what she was going to say next. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t pretend.

“Niall,” she said, looking like she was trying very hard not to roll her eyes. Instead, she looked at her son, a hint of worry in her voice. “Don't you miss him?”

“We are talking,” Zayn stated, completely ignoring the second question he was asked. The only reaction he’d gotten was a disapproving glance. Damn, this woman knew him too well. “We really are. Maybe not as often as we used to, but… I mean… I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“I’m not expecting you to say anything,” she sighed. “Well, not to me, at least. But don’t you think it’s time to stop sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

Even Zayn could tell that his voice was saying something completely opposite and he hated himself for that. But the truth was, he wasn’t sulking. Pining, maybe. But not sulking. He wasn’t five to be sulking without any reason to do so.

“It’s just…,” his mum leaned forward, biting her lip, “you two were so… close. And happy. Back then. I miss seeing you like that, you know?”

“Mum…,” it sounded like a whine and Zayn wanted to bang his head against the table. However, he doubted if that would help him convince his mother that he was totally ok and totally not sulking. “Why are we talking about him anyway? You bugging me about it wouldn’t change much, would it?”

Zayn almost winced at how harsh his voice sounded. He didn’t mean to snap at his mother like this. It was just tiring, being reminded how he had fucked up and what he had lost. Whom he had lost. Zayn would prefer some help with forgetting about all this.

Trisha sent him a hard look and for a few second, she hasn’t said a word. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded much softer and kinder than her look might suggest. “You’re right. Me bugging you about him won’t change much. But maybe I’ll finally bug you enough that you'll do something about it.”

Clenching his teeth, Zayn looked down at the mug he was holding, not saying anything more.

***

Zayn wasn’t the easiest person to be around. He had some awful habits, that he knew he should get rid off, but he couldn’t. Tendency to run away from his problems when they were becoming too much to handle, cutting people off - even the ones closest to his heart - or feeling suffocated by a lot of, sometimes very trivial stuff. Some people said that it wasn’t something bad, that it was just his way to deal with the big, bad world. Or at least his mum said so. But the truth was, that sometimes those things was getting in Zayn’s way. Stopping him from doing things he really wanted to do, but was too scared or too stupid to try.

With a heavy sigh, Zayn rolled on his bed. He should add “overthinking” to the long list of his bad habits. As well as “thinking the dead of night is a perfect time to reflect on his miserable life”. It wasn’t causing any good.

He untangled his arm from under the covers and tried to find the phone without opening his eyes. It was harder than expected, but finally his fingers reached the device and brought it up to his face. Peeking one eye open, Zayn cursed under his breath when the bright light hit his tired eyes. It was just a few minutes after 3 in the morning and Zayn hated the whole world as if his insomnia was its fault. But it was easier, blaming something that couldn’t defend itself. This way his guilt trip wasn’t eating him alive.

He was mostly alright, though. Just sometimes, on nights like this, he felt that stupid sinking feeling in his stomach, the urge to punch someone. Himself, preferably. It was all gone the next day, most of this moping at least, so it wasn’t really that bad. The only problem was that nights like that were happening quite often lately.

After a few minutes of mindless staring at his phone, Zayn taped out the code and unlocked it. For god-knows-which time he gave himself a mental smack on the head and almost laughed at his own soppiness. There were so many combinations and yet, he had to pick those four damn digits. And after all this time he couldn’t bring himself to change it.

His fingers hovered over the screen, not sure why he’d even taken the phone.

Except he did.

With a defeated sigh, Zayn clicked the Spotify icon. During her visit, Trisha at least ten times mentioned how beautiful Too Much To Ask was and that he should listen to it. And who Zayn was to say no to his own mother.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to hear it. Listening to Niall’s voice was always a great experience, no matter whether the Irishman was singing, talking or laughing. And that was exactly the reason why Zayn was so hesitant. The fact that he wasn’t able to hear much of the talking or the laughing lately hurt too much.

Plus, after hearing to the previous single, Zayn wasn’t sure if he could handle to the rest of the album. Listening to Slow Hands made him feel that awful sting of jealousy, because thinking about Niall hooking up with some random chick wasn’t really his favourite way of spending the day. The possibility of hearing more things like this made him anxious. He didn’t want to realise that Niall was over him, while Zayn most certainly wasn’t over Niall. Didn’t matter what he was telling others.

Nevertheless, he was a weak man. Especially with his mum gushing about the song all day and sending him all those weird looks. He typed out the title and clicked play, trying to ignore his pounding heart.

Soft sounds filled Zayn’s bedroom. Just after the first notes, Zayn knew that it wasn’t something he had expected. When Niall started singing, Zayn closed his eyes and clutched the phone more firmly in his hand. After a while without hearing it, Niall’s voice sounded different from what Zayn remembered. It was stronger, somehow a bit foreign. But at the same time so familiar. And even more beautiful.

Zayn was worried that over the furious pounding of his heart he wouldn’t be able to hear the lyrics properly. But every single word was clear as day, resounding loudly in the silence of the room. And it felt like every single one of them was ripping Zayn’s heart from his chest, releasing all the thoughts and feelings he was carefully stashing for all this time. It was all out now, like Zayn could hear it in the song.

Staring down at his phone, Zayn didn’t know whether he wanted to turn it off or to play the song once more and then again, so he wouldn’t miss anything. He did none of this, vision to blurry to see the screen properly. Was he crying? He wasn’t really sure. Zayn held his phone even tighter, feeling the urge to throw it across the room, to make it all stop. Instead, he just lay on his bed, petrified.

He felt like there was not enough space in his lungs for him to breath properly.

Not enough space in this room. Or in this city.

All the thoughts in his head, the sounds of the song, his pulse pounding in his ears, it all seemed to mix and blend until it turned into a static noise in his mind.

Before Zayn even realised, he was standing in the middle of the room, putting on first clothes he could find. It might have been the worst thing to do, but he couldn’t just let it go.

He had already let go once.

The whole ride was just a blur. Zayn had no idea how he managed to get to the other side of the city without crashing his car or running somebody over. He parked the car, barely remembering about locking it up. After a few more minutes, after running in the chill autumn air, Zayn finally reached his destination. He was trembling all over, his hands shaking. It was hard to tell whether it was because of the emotions, the cold or something entirely different.

Zayn stood there, staring at the door in front of him. What was he even doing? He didn't know if Niall was here and the song might not meant what Zayn thought, hoped it did. Was he allowed to do this? Just show up at Niall's doorstep, all of sudden, after months of silence and years of not seeing each other? Why was his heart speeding its beating even more, just at the thought of seeing Niall's face?

Zayn took a step back.

The adrenaline he felt earlier was rushing out of him with every breath he took. Instead, the panic was slowly taking over. Zayn felt the urge to run back to his flat, bury himself under the covers and pretend he'd never heard Niall's song, his mum's words from earlier and the crazy thumping of his heart. In situations like this, Zayn had never been the brave one and the possibility of being rejected or Niall not being here, made it even worse.

Although, Zayn was a coward earlier and instead of protecting him, it left him with a wounded heart. It was hard to live with it. So he knocked.

For a few, incredibly long and painful moments, nothing was happening. Zayn had a feeling that he still could hear the echo of his fist knocking against the wooden door, noise so loud in the quiet night. But maybe Niall didn’t hear it? If he even was there, he was probably asleep and Zayn knew Niall always was a heavy sleeper. Trying to ignore the anxiety and the blood rushing in his ears, Zayn raised his hand to ring the bell.

As soon as he placed his finger on the doorbell, the door swung open. Zayn’s brain needed a few long seconds to gather what was happening and only then realised that he should stop ringing.

Despite everything, Zayn really couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to catch Niall in here, that he wasn’t on the other side of the globe. He really hoped that it was a reason to be happy.

They stood there, just staring at each other, none of them could really believe who they saw. Zayn’s eyes wandered through Niall's body, just for a second or two. He was in a pair of sweats and a loose shirt, that was still stretching across his broad shoulders. His dark hair was ruffled, short stubble covering his cheeks. And those beautiful blue eyes, now wide opened were staring right at Zayn. Niall looked different, more mature, maybe more tired. Which seemed odd, because not that much time had passed since they've seen each other the last time, so things shouldn't change that much. And yet, they seemed to do.

“Zayn.”

Niall's tone was quiet, but not unsure or questioning. It sounded a bit like a sigh, but Zayn couldn’t tell whether it was a relieved or heavy one. Zayn’s heart - just a second ago pumping like crazy - now almost stopped after hearing his name being said by that low, raspy voice that he loved so much. His breath hitched in his throat, tongue feeling too big for his mouth. What was he doing here? It was difficult to catch at least one coherent thought in the mess that Zayn’s mind was at the moment. Mostly, there was Niall, his eyes closer that they were in years, his smell, his voice. And that damn song, still playing in Zayn’s brain on repeat.

“Was it about me?” Zayn blurted out before he could think twice.

It might not be the best way to start this conversation, but Zayn was surprised and quite proud of himself for being able to produce any words at all.

“I- What?” Niall shook his head, like he tried to focus. “Was what about you?”

“The song,” Zayn took a step closer. His fingers were twitching to touch Niall, to grab at his arm. To resist the urge, he curled his hands into fists. “Too much to ask. Was it about me?”

Every time that question popped up in his head, Zayn felt stupid. Like he was still as vain as people tried to portray him. That he was just imagining things that weren’t there. Because… was he really that relevant? Was he so relevant that Niall had written such song about him?

But now the question was out. Zayn opened his heart for Niall and there was no coming back. He could only wait and hope that Niall’s answer won’t break him completely.

In response, Niall’s eyes widened in shock and he looked down after a second or two. Zayn could hear the deep breath he took. Niall’s hand that was holding the door, gripped the wood a bit tighter, while the fingers of his other hand ran through his hair.

“Nia-”

“What are you doing, Zayn?” when Niall spoke again his voice was harsh. He snapped his head up, but he looked more tired than angry. “What is this all about, why are you here? It’s not like we pay ourselves a lot of visits lately, you know?”

Zayn didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything at all. Before he could even open his mouth, Niall spoke again.

“We haven’t talked in months and now you just come here, like nothing had happened, in the middle of a fucking night? And you ask me if- What the fuck, Zayn?”

Niall took a step forward. They were standing almost chest to chest and Zayn was no longer sure of anything. He tried not to think about how did Niall’s body changed, tried not to be intimidated by how big he seemed from this close.

“It was so damn hard and when I thought that I- Fuck, I was doing better. And now you’re fucking here. What do you want me to do?” Niall’s fingers ran through that little piece of hair on his temple, the nervous gesture he’d never got rid off. “You want me to tell you that I was so attached that I couldn’t get over you? That I tried to hate you for how our relation went, but I couldn’t? That I’ve written a fucking song cause I don’t know how to deal with such things differently?”

The more Niall talked, the quicker and more jumbled his words became. Zayn could feel Niall’s hot breath against his face, his own heartbeat almost drowning out what Niall was saying. Scattered words were echoing through his head when Zayn tried to make sense out of them, to make sure that he heard what he thought he did.

It seemed almost impossible, though. In that moment, Zayn could think about only one thing that might help him understand. Only one thing that he wanted to do. So he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Niall’s.

He missed a bit, placing a kiss on the corner of Niall’s mouth. That move surprised Niall, who made a weird noise, his words muffled by Zayn’s lips. He jerked back, staring at Zayn, wide-eyed and silent. Feeling more anxious and stupid with every passing second, Zayn opened his mouth to say something. Apologise or say goodbye and run away. Anything to break this silence.

He never did any of those, because all of sudden Niall’s hand were on him, grasping the front of his hoodie and pulling Zayn closer, right into Niall’s arms, into his warmth. Their lips crushed together, the angle not exactly right to kiss properly. Zayn moved one of his hands up, from where it was resting on Niall’s chest and gripped the back of his broad neck. Trying to tangle his fingers in the short, brown hair at the nape, Zayn turned his head and took another step forward, pressing his chest into Niall’s. He could feel Niall’s heartbeat under his palm, trapped between their bodies.

A sigh escaped Zayn’s mouth, when he felt Niall licking at his lips, trying to get inside. He let him, pressing himself further into Niall’s embrace. He was afraid to let go, afraid that if he did, it would all disappear and he’d be back in his flat. Alone.

“Fuck,” Niall mumbled into Zayn’s mouth, leaving a few more small kisses on his lips. Slowly straightening his fingers, he brought his hands up to cup Zayn’s face. Niall rested his forehead on Zayn’s, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Fuck you, Malik. I’d never free myself from you.”

“I don’t want you to,” Zayn whispered quickly. “Please don’t.”

A breathy laugh escaped Niall’s mouth. He moved his face away, just the slightest bit so he could look Zayn in the eyes. Absentmindedly, Niall rubbed Zayn’s cheek with his thumb. Zayn felt like his heart was about to burst in response to that gentle gesture.

“Do I have a choice?” Niall asked, his voice a bit teasing. “I was trying to and you fucked up all the progress I’ve made.”

Zayn grinned, trying to kiss Niall again, but his smile made it quite impossible.

“Sorry it took me so long, though,” he said and then added, getting serious, “Really. I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I was too scared and didn’t know what to do. And the longer I waited, the more I was convincing myself that it’s too late to fix it. I’m an idiot and-”

Just like Zayn did earlier, this time Niall closed his mouth with a kiss. It was very effective, maybe even too effective, since Zayn’s mind went completely blank, Niall’s lips the only thing he could think of.

“You are an idiot. ‘M happy you’d finally understood that so we can move on.”

“Actually it’s my mum. That helped me understand, like. She was dropping subtle hints for some time now,” Zayn felt like his face was going to break in two from how big he was smiling.

Niall hummed in acknowledgement, biting at his lower lip in a rubbish attempt to hide his own smile.

“Always knew Trisha’s the best Malik.” He said, moving his hands from Zayn’s cheeks to wrap his arms around Zayn’s middle. “But how about we talk more in the morning? Don’t want to ruin the mood but it’s gonna be fucking downing soon.”

“Oh. Right. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t-,” Zayn started. “You have a busy day ahead, I should just go…”

Niall only snorted, pulling Zayn inside and closing the front door behind them. “As if I’m going to let you go ever again.”

#ziall fic #ziall #writings #angst with a happy ending #HAPPY BDAY PIA! #*insert heart emojis here* #AND THANK YOU JULES FOR THE PROMPT #HOPE YOU BOTH WILL LIKE IT! #and like... there are things that aren't exactly as they should but let's just ignore it #for the sake of the happy ending dasjda #i can't write not-cheesy stuff sue me #anyway #ta-da!

[potter---imagines-blog]

What a Magical Night

Fred x Reader

Request: Fred x reader. Falling in love with a muggle. They meet in a bar where the reader catches him in using magic and kind of freaks out at first. Lots of fluff. Warnings: None? Words: 1708

It was a rare occasion that Fred would spend his Friday night in a muggle bar, but he was bored because George was out on a date with some girl and he didn’t feel like spending the night alone. As to how he ended up in a muggle bar it was quite puzzling to him too. One moment he goes to lean on a wall in a wizard bar and the next he’s stumbling down a hallway leading to a muggle bar as though he had fallen through the wall. It really didn’t bother him much, company was company, muggle and wizard alike. It was also much easier to trick muggles, he was doing some petty magic tricks that the muggles all thought were allusions, and he had formed a little crowd. People were laughing and jeering him along, some even buying him drinks because he was ‘such a delight’. The only person who really caught his eye in the crowd was a girl wearing a maroon dress and she seemed to be the only one not impressed by his magic skills.

Fred excused himself from the crowd and made his way over to you. “I’ve been doing magic tricks all night, but I have to admit you’re the most magical thing I've ever seen.” His pick up line fell flat as she scoffed, “exactly tricks, that’s all you’ve been doing. It’s nothing special, my seven year old brother could probably do something of the same.” Wow she’s bitter, thought Fred, but quite witty. “My dear don’t you believe in magic?” he teased, taking pleasure in the fact that she was completely ignorant to the fact that there was an entire wizarding world hidden in plain sight. “Why would I believe in something that holds no scientific ground. Nobody has ever been able to prove the existence of magic, so why should I believe?” She retorted without even skipping a beat. “Well if you think seeing is believing then I suppose a lot of things must not be real in your world” He countered, enjoying that their conversation was lasting. “I never said seeing is believing, I simple live by the implications that if something does not have any scientific proof then it simply is not” the words flowed off her tongue so effortlessly and she spoke with conviction. Their conversation went back and forth like that for a while, and then it drifted to different topics as she seemed to loosen up and became more playful.Fred telling her all about his twin brother George and their joke shop. He never went into the specifics, and he left out some little things, you know just minor things like the entire existence of the wizarding world. She told him about how she was getting her degree in university and how she was going to pursue her dream even though it seemed unlikely she would ever reach it. It’s weird how a stranger in a bar can give you so much perspective on your life, like helping you realize that you can be a different person from your twin, and that however unlikely it is you should still chase your dream.

It was now late, and Fred figured he should probably go back to his apartment in the wizard world. So he parted ways with the beautiful girl he had just spent hours conversing with. He went back down the hallway that he stumbled into earlier and tried pushing against the wall he fell through. Of course it was solid. Alternatively he decided it was safe to cast a portal spell, seeing as the bar was basically empty and no one would go down that dead end hallway. He thought wrong because just as he cast the spell. “You forgot your-Holly hell what was that?” The familiar voice shrieked. Fred panicked and ran up to her grabbed her arm and pulled her to the red door that had just appeared in the wall. Upon better jugement he opened the door and pulled the two of them through, the door disappearing once it was closed on the other side. “What just happened?” she was distressed and confused, and disoriented now in a completely new place. “Well you yelled and people were coming so I just brought you with me” He tried to explain. It didn’t help, it just caused more questions, like where exactly was here? She was freaking out and Fred had to get her out of public. So he brought her home to his apartment, explaining minimally on his way home.

“So you’re a wizard, and can use magic for real, and you brought me to the wizarding world because you panicked. Oh my god there are wizards, I’m talking to a wizard. I’m in a wizards house. They have wands!” now Fred was the confused one. The sceptical girl with the dry humor he had met in the bar, who was in a complete panicked frenzy minutes ago was now sitting on his sofa in amazement looking wondrously around the room. “This is absolutely insane, and wonderful, and terrifying. I don’t even know what to do” she exclaimed. “Neither do I” Fred said as he slumped down on the sofa next to her trying to think of something to do to fix his predicament. He couldn’t think clearly right now so he decided that the best thing to do was push it off and hope it’d solve itself. “Are you fine sleeping here tonight?” he asked her “yes of course, I wanna spend as much time here as I can.” she said excitedly. He brought her pillows and blankets for her to set up on the sofa for the night. “well goodnight, Y/n try to get some sleep.” Fred said before turning off the lights and going to his room.

It had been a whole five minutes of sleep before the creaking of his door woke him up. “What are you doing in my room?” he asked with sleep heavy in his voice. “Well I realized that you’re probably going to send me home in the morning so I better ask all my questions now,” she said sitting on the edge of his bed, “Like do wizards have toasters? I haven’t been in the kitchen yet, but how would you make toast without a toaster. Is there a toast spell?” she was just full of questions. “You sound like my dad” He groaned. “Is your dad  a human?” “No my dad is not a muggle” he answered as if it was a silly question, although it was a silly question to him.  “what the heck is a muggle?” her curiosity peaked by the new word “A muggle in a non wizard” he answered “Wow you even have a different vocabulary” she said in fascination. Fred indulged her questioning for a long time. At some point they ended up lying side by side, she’d ask a question then he’d answer, his response usually creating a new question for her to  ask. That went on until she fell asleep with her head resting on his chest and his arm around her waist. Fred couldn’t help but feel natural in their position, it felt so right, like it was meant to be.

That’s why the next morning he didn’t send her home, or the morning after that. Not even after he told George and George tried to convince him to take you back. Pretty quickly you and Fred started your relationship together, and you really grew on George. The people in Fred’s neighborhood could tell you were not a wizard, but nobody ever said anything because you and Fred were so happy together. When you went grocery shopping you looked so excited watching how all the groceries were levitated into a bag by the old lady who ran the shop and Fred looked so in love with you as he watched your excitement. The old lady gave you everything half off because ‘I remember what it was like to be young and in love.” Both of you blushing heavily at her comment.

You did end up going back to the muggle world a couple weeks later, everything seemed so boring compared to the wizarding world. Your stay didn’t last long tough as you just came to pick up your stuff and visit your family. It’s crazy how a stranger at a bar can completely change your world, or in your case introduce you to a new world. You found a new dream and fell in love with a ginger locked dork who pulled you into this new life. You found a job at a little bookstore and everyone loved you there because even though you couldn’t stack books with a flick of your wand you brought a optimistic and inviting aura to the store.

The rest of the Weasleys were split on you upon first meeting you. Molly loved you because you were just the cutest thing she had ever seen and Arthur loved your abundant knowledge of muggles. George adored you, now being one of his best friends. Ginny however was particularly distasteful towards you for some reason, and all hell broke loose when Percy said he’d have to report you to the ministry. Fred had him up against a wall threatening him and Ron and George had to pull him off. By the end of the night any sour impressions of you were completely abolished and you were practically part of the family.

“They loved you!” he said “My mum wasn’t even that happy when Ginny and Harry started dating. I understand tough it’s pretty hard not to love you” giving you a quick peck on the nose. “Well I am happy to say that my charming boyfriends family is equally as charming,” you giggled. “How was I lucky enough to find you?” He asked looking lovingly looking into you eyes “Well I wouldn’t say you found me. More like you dragged me into the wizarding world” You laughed at your own joke but were cut off by a kiss. Soft and sweet, just like the love you two shared. Everything happened so fast and so unexpectedly, but you wouldn’t have it any other way and neither would Fred.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x reader #hp imagine #Weasley