1. A boy who wants to speak to you will message you, if he’s not messaging you then it’s probably because he doesn’t want to.
2. If he’s not asking you out on a date then it’s most likely because he doesn’t want to take you on one.
3. Calling you ‘crazy’ or ‘strange’ is his way of trying to make you feel like your feelings are unnecessary, don’t stay with someone who makes you feel stupid for having feelings.
4. You never really know what he’s thinking so don’t for a second think you do because you’ll end up getting disappointed.
5. A boy who truly likes you will never put himself in a position to lose you.
6. Know when to walk away, you will find a boy who appreciates you.
7. Don’t chase him, if he wants to leave let him. If he really did like you as much as you liked him he wouldn’t be walking away in the first place, remember that.
8. There’s always someone else, they might not be right for you either but there will always be someone you find after them and eventually you’ll find the right person.
9. Don’t ignore the red flags, if you think something isn’t right then trust your gut, you’re probably right anyway.
10. If he likes you then he’ll want to talk to you and only you and will make an active effort to do so.
11. “I’m not looking for anything serious right now” means “I’m not looking for anything serious with you”.
12. A boy who likes you will want to be with you.
13. If he tells you he’s going to bed but is then actively on social media then don’t dare message him the next day.
14. A boy who likes you will want to speak to you everyday, not once a week or whenever it suits him.
15. Watch out for the boys who speak to you in their free time and the boys who’ll free their time to speak to you, it’s important to learn the difference.
16. If he ignores any of your messages, whether they’re messages that have an answer to them or ones that could be ignored then he’s probably not interested.
17. If a boy is interested in you then he’s going to message you back even if your last message was one he didn’t have to reply to, if he likes you he’ll want to talk to you.
18. Actions will always speak louder than words, don’t believe anything he says unless he actively proves it with his actions.
19. Boys say things they don’t mean.
20. Once it’s over walk away, he’s made it clear how he feels about you or rather how he doesn’t so leave it at that.
20 lessons I’ve learned (and never want to forget).
one of my favorite things about the trans!danny hc is that, assuming we’re going by canon here, jack is suPER supportive
like almost every episode we hear jack referring to danny as “danny boy”
like,, think about this for a second
danny coming out to his parents, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his too-big t-shirt
maddie being quiet at first, taking it in, thinking about how she would have to take her son shopping for new clothes immediately.. and a binder. he would need a proper binder.
she gets so lost in calculating all the things she would have to do to help her son feel comfortable she doesnt realize how quiet shes being - but danny does
he starts panicing. his fears had come true - they didnt accept him. of course they wouldnt.. he begins backing up when all of sudden jack’s face turns into a huge grin.
he claps a hand on his sons shoulder, beaming. “oh danny boy!” he proclaims, “why didnt you tell us sooner???”
danny blanches. he hadnt expected his dad to be so accepting. this snaps maddy out of her trance, and she starts talking at lightning speed, how they would have to buy him some new, appropriate, clothes and the seriousness of proper binding.
danny cant believe it.. they? they’re ok with this? he starts to cry - from relieve and from happiness and also from a bit of guilt he didnt tell them sooner - that would have made things a lot easier
from then on jack and maddy try their best to be as supportive as they can be. maddy always cooing about her precious baby boy and jack going on and on about how they need to have more father-son bonding time. making sure hes always comfortable and correcting anyone who ever dares misgender their baby boy. danny couldnt have been happier.
even so, he stills gets dsyphoria sometimes and it really brings him down - and so jack does the only thing he could think
he starts calling him danny boy.
maybe a little reminder is all he needs… besides, he always wanted a son anyways
Character: Sirius Black Word Count: 1092 Requested?: Yes/No Summary:Sirius finds himself looking after a drunk Y/n, who is determined to make it as difficult as possible for him to do so. Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit to whoever made it
+ + + + +
The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing, people dancing, laughing and drinking the firewhisky that lined the tables. The room was nearly too full for anyone to move around, however all anyone seemed to care about was Gryffindor winning the Quidditch match against Slytherin.
Sirius Black leant casually against a wall on the outskirts of the room, holding a half empty cup of firewhiskey in his hand as he observed the room.
Usually, he’d be right in the centre of everything, dancing with some girl he happened to find. However, tonight it was different. His eyes were locked on the Ravenclaw boy who dared to talk to you, hating him from a distance.
He told himself it was just the natural instinct of a best friend to want to protect you, but knew deep down it was so much more than that.
He didn’t want that boy touching you, because he wanted to be the only one to be able to do that.
He took a sip of his drink before allowing his eyes to wander, just for a few seconds, landing on his best friend James, who seemed to be acting like the giddy dork he was around none other than Lily Evans. Catch him around any other girl, he’d be his usual proud self, yet put him in front of the pretty redhead and he turned into a crushing schoolgirl.
Sirius couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement, before he then began looking around for Remus or Peter - whichever one he found first.
Remus, for once, actually seemed to be having fun. Though usually not the party type, James and Sirius had encouraged him to turn up, just for one night, and reluctantly, the werewolf had agreed.
Look where that got him - having much more fun than his usually overdramatic friend Sirius.
Sirius then, avoiding looking at you and the Ravenclaw, found Peter, who surprisingly, after having one too many shots, seemed to almost be the life of the party, though it was more likely he was just overly excited that James had scored the winning shot of the match.
Sirius often questioned whether his little rat friend was in love with James and his talent.
“Sirius dance with me!” He suddenly heard someone slur from his left. Turning, he couldn’t help the smile that graced his face when he saw it was you. Clearly intoxicated, you nearly fell into your best friend in your attempt to get to him faster. “Y/n! A-Are you drunk?” Sirius asked in shock, holding onto your body and pulling you close to him.
“What? Nooo..” you giggled, then began to slide a hand slowly down his chest, heading towards his pants. “Whatcha doing there?” Sirius said as he grabbed you hand to prevent it from moving lower.
You pouted, and leaned up to his ear, “Don’t you want to have some fun tonight?”
If it were in any other circumstances, Sirius would have jumped at the chance for a night with you, especially after being in love with you for so long now. But you were drunk - these thoughts weren’t your own, and he could only feel a little down about that.
“Trust me doll, any other time I would, but right now we need to get you to bed,” Sirius said as he once again steadied you on your feet.
“Do I have to?” You whined. Sirius didn’t bother replying, and instead started to lead you up the stairs to your dorm room.
It was one of the only times the stairs hadn’t knocked him back down.
He opened the door to your dorm and helped you inside as you muttered incoherent things to yourself, clinging onto Sirius’ neck.
You collapsed onto the bed as Sirius sat down and rested your feet on his lap, so he could take your shoes off for you. He placed them under your bed, before leaning over your body to try and take of your necklace, in case if caused you problems whilst you were asleep.
He ignored the closeness of your bodies, trying to distract himself from behind pressed against you, when you said, “I really like his position.” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, a leg gently looping around his as you tried to lift your hips to meet his.
“And you are a very sexual drunk, baby girl, but I can’t do this to you. I won’t,” he said in a low tone, stroking your cheek with his finger as he pulled away from you with the necklace, trying not to hurt your leg as he untangled it from around his. “Then just stay with me,” you muttered sleepily, holding onto his arm so he couldn’t stand up.
Sirius’ heartbeat sped up. Did you just ask him to stay longer?
Without a word, Sirius placed the necklace on your beside table, slipping out of his trousers and climbing into the bed with you, instantly wrapping his arms around you. You looked up into his dark brown eyes, mesmerised by the way they were gazing back at you with such adoration. Your stare flickered down to his soft lips, and in your drunk state, you convinced yourself it was the perfect idea to lean over and-
Sirius thought his head was going to explode from feeling so many emotions at once when your lips brushed his. He could taste the alcohol on you, and knew, deep down, that you were just doing this because you were intoxicated. However, he pushed that out of his mind, if only for a few moments, to savour something that he would cherish forever.
You pulled away, seemingly content with kissing him, and snuggled into his chest, listening to his rising heartbeat as it lulled you to sleep.
Sirius couldn’t believe what you had just done. He couldn’t believe that you had actually kissed him. Him, your best friend, of all people. Sure, you’d been making sexual advances all night, but he never thought you’d actually do something about it without passing out first.
He couldn’t believe he had you in his arms, holding onto him so tight. He pushed a loose strand of hair out of your face, and just watched how beautiful you looked, lying beside him with your dress clothes still on, and makeup half smudged across the pillow.
Sirius smiled to himself in a bittersweet kind of way.
You may not remember the kiss by the morning, but he was sure that he would never forget it.
Date a boy who will kick ass if someone dares to insult you
Date a boy who doesn’t judge your appearance
Date a boy who doesn’t care that you are stronger than him
Date a boy who is your accomplice of all times, even when he disagrees with what you do
Date a boy who always gets excited whenever he sees you
Date a boy who tries his best to fulfill your wish, but will back off if he senses you are uncomfortable or have more important things to worry about
Date a boy who, despite having a fight with you, still cares and comes for you during your hard times
Date a boy who will squat down your insecurities and always tell you you are pretty and you are great
Date a boy who silently supports you and never asks for anything in return, nor did he ever play the “nice guy” card
Date jung joon hyung
@leonygunawan said: hi I’m a new follower and i love your writing! can i request where y/n and jeff keeps their relationship a secret but guys are harassing you and girls just latched on to him and it makes y/n feel so uncomfortable but jeff declared that y/n is her gf at his biggest game. thankyou so much and I’m sorry if its so detailed
JEFF X READER
“I can’t keep this up forever,” you mutter sadly, ducking under the stairwell at the end of the hall while everyone was currently sitting in class, dragging your boyfriend with you. “It was stupid to keep us a secret.”
“We just wanted something for ourselves,” Jeff tries to remind you. “Something that no one could criticize or gossip about.”
You have no words because you know he’s right. The both of you did agree to keep your relationship on the down low until after graduation, but eventually.. you sigh. “I know, but it’s too much now. The guys of Liberty High apparently don’t understand the concept of personal space and the cheerleaders.. the cheerleaders,” you whine. “They’re always all over you.”
“Fine, just do what you have to do.” - “Can
you stop being so freaking cute so I can concentrate?”
Jughead x Reader
Words:1072 (bit longer than a drabble oops)
Warnings: Cursing, fluff.
A/N: This was super cute, I love it and I figured I should post
something before the new episode.
Nothing was unusual for yourself and
Jughead on this particular Friday night. It had been the same routine for a
year (since you had sit by him one night when the rest of the booths were full
because of the post-football game crowds and you guys had hit it off),
Jughead goes to Pop’s around 7pm, gets some writing done and then you join him
around 8pm. He orders a double cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate milkshake
and you order a hotdog, fries and a vanilla milkshake. This was the same every
Friday night, for the past 52 Fridays.
all the time my head buzzed with the impossibility of girls: girls who found exactly the right shade of rose shirt to wear with my skirt, who were impossibly talented in fashion; girls who braided my hair and kissed my cheeks while talking about their favorite mountains; girls who gently guided me through going to the gym and who would get ice cream with me in the sweaty aftermath; girls who looked dangerous but were always ready to watch a show and drink wine with me, who scratched the faces of boys who dared demand too much of me; girls who were quiet and gave me their highlighted notes in fonts i couldn’t dream of, who stood up to other girls when they stepped out of line. girls who protected me, girls i protected, girls who came to me for advice on being woman if the body feels wrong and who gave me advice on how not to quit life despite the fact i felt like a constantly ringing last song.
all the time they were perfect, impeccably so, from the round laughing cheeks to the photogenic queens to the sundae messes to the freckles to the core of them. girls flooded every nerve ending with the ability to somehow exist so wondrously that you were sure you were in a dream.
rebelcaptain || arranged royal marriage AU: the ball part 1
Baze brings her the final list of candidates, his face grumpier than usual, which Jyn appreciates as it matches her mood. She’s in her library, which will eventually be converted into her future husband’s quarters, and she stares out the window with the view of the pond and wonders what he will be like, whoever he will be, and whether or not he will appreciate the view that she’s loved most of her life or if he’ll simply keep the curtains drawn.
“I do not understand the need to rush this step,” he grunts, placing the leather-bound folio into her hands.
“I suppose everyone would prefer to make this match before I actually have a chance to fall in love with someone myself,” she says, thinking of the first boy who had dared to find the courage to kiss her, and then to the young man at university she’d fallen in with, who had given her an inkling of what love might have felt like, even if it was only a poor approximation of it. But she still opens the folio, pulling out each clipped-together profile.
“I am sorry, but if they think they can reign you in, highness, then they are foolish.”
Jyn reaches out and takes Baze’s hand, squeezing it. “You don’t need to say you are sorry, Baze,” she smiles. “In part because I know you’re not.”
“What are the chances that you won’t have to do this, princess?” Baze asks, straightening himself up, checking his emotions.
Jyn fans out the stack of profiles, photographs of each candidate clipped to the edge of each packet. It’s a wealth of handsome faces and titles and names of repute. She pulls out the photo of the first face in the stack and glances at it–Cassian Andor of the House of Fest–then throws it back down on the table.
“The question is,” she tells Baze, “what choice do I have?
Jasper Hale imagine requested by casismyguardianangel. “Could I get Jasper/reader where it’s their first kiss please? They’re at the Cullen’s alone watching a movie & partway through reader does/says something & Jas just pulls her in without thinking, he tries apologizing but she kisses him to shut him up” Hope you like it!
“So you’re telling me you’d take the Civil War all over again over the court of Marie Antoinette? You’ve got to be kidding me,” you guffawed, watching Jasper’s smile creep by inches past his steely facade, his eyes abandoning the documentary you were watching in favour of meeting your inquisitive gaze. He shrugged his shoulders, his teeth gleaming in the dim glow of the television, his hands smoothing over the denim that clung to your shins. You had your legs propped-up in his lap, a comfortable position neither of you minded, but an innocent enough picture that, should your privacy be interrupted by the return of, say, Emmett Cullen, the mockery would remain relatively minimal. Jasper’s eyes flitted to the screen, his butterscotch irises burning in their own right as they reflected the lavish colours shown on the furnishings of Versailles. “What’s your reasoning? “What’s a plate of pastries to a field of dying men?”
you joked, mimicking his unnaturally smooth voice to the best of your human abilities, emphasizing a thick Southern accent, thrilling at the rolling of his eyes. “I know you’re technically a killing machine, but I was so sure you had some level of restraint.” He refused to acknowledge your jab, fighting his smile as it grew. “Come on, Jaz, be reasonable. You’d really take war over a ballroom?” He turned to you, then, his eyes open and honest as he prepared to counter your argument.
“Absolutely, I would. I mean, can you imagine living like that? All the rumours, the powder, the… I mean, for women, especially, the corsets? I’d much rather stand behind a cannon and watch femurs get sawed in half than be so… stiff.” You rolled your eyes at his logic, his preference to gore rather than tolerate a little perfume and a few layers of lead foundation. You rolled a piece of buttered popcorn between your index finger and your thumb, your thoughts arranging to compensate for the new bit of information you’d snagged from the man. Jasper’s hand continued to smooth a pathway over your legs, his touch incredibly gentle, nearly ghost-like as he passed over and over the cloth covering your skin, his eyes on yours as he waited for your next barrage of questions. You popped the piece of popcorn past your lips, munching happily before voicing your confusion.
“When you say you’d rather endure the Civil War again, does that include… you know, how it “ended” for you, or just the golden-boy-and-youngest-member-of-the-Texas-Calvary bit?” He paused, his eyes lifting slightly in thought, his hand pausing just below your knee as he digested your comment. “I mean, would you get bit again? Just to avoid Versailles?” He grinned then, chuckling softly, his fingers toying with a piece of thread coming loose of your seams.
“Well, considering the alternative…” he eyeballed the television, redirecting your attention to the scenes of unrest among the French peasants, their fists raised against each others’ jaws as they tussled over scraps of discarded bread. “If you’re asking me whether or not I prefer vampirism to the Guillotine, I think you know my answer. I’d be a fool to pick getting cropped at the neck rather than being bitten there, no matter how…” he trailed off, as if hesitant to disclose the details of his transformation, his eyes clouding over as he relived the distant memory, scenes over a hundred years old painting the landscape of his features as his mind recollected the images. He sighed lightly, organizing his thoughts before continuing. “Only one of those options ends with me living.” You scoffed, bending at the knee to nudge his side with your foot, his bewildered eyes locking on yours with mock surprise at your breach of manners.
“So to speak,” you corrected, his laughter flooding through the emptiness of the Cullen residence, his smile wide, eyes sparkling joyfully. You knew there was a part of him that was flooded with relief that you could make light of his immortality, no matter how dark the terms of his contract may be. You were expected to run screaming for the hills, but you couldn’t fathom leaving Jasper for anything, supernatural or otherwise. He caught your foot in his hand, returning it to its previous position, his body sliding ever so slightly closer to yours at the end of the couch, a movement that wasn’t lost on you. He extended is arm over the back of the sofa, his forearm by your head, the scent of his skin wafting up to flood your senses.
“So to speak,” he mirrored, his grin lingering as you both returned your attention to the documentary, watching as friends of the monarchy met their fates by the falling blade of the Guillotine, wincing each time the lever was pulled. Jasper chuckled at your so obvious flinching, bringing his lips to your ear, his voice a mere whisper. “You know this is a dramatization, right? They’re not actually being put to death. They’re just fine.” Normally, you would have swatted him away, banishing his sarcasm with a harmless roll of your eyes… but he was so close to you in that instant, and the scent of him… you found yourself positively intoxicated by his presence, and ever more aware of his body as he moved closer by fractions of an inch. When he moved away from you, he was never quite as far; this most recent transaction left him all but beside you, your legs bent from the proximity. If you so much as shifted, you’d practically be nestled in his lap… not that you would have minded, only Jasper was usually so brisk about the distance between you and the razors he hid behind his lips, lips that, just a moment ago, had been brushing against your ear. Jasper turned to you, a quizzical expression knitting his brow, his eyes curious on your own. “Are you feeling alright? You seem…” his voice trailed off, watching as you displaced the popcorn bowl from your lap, relocating the ceramic to the coffee table before you, your eyes on the screen to avoid meeting his honeyed stare, though you were very much aware of the fact that his eyes remained glued to your face, tasting your emotional atmosphere.
“I should have known you wouldn’t be put-off by executions. Blood and all that,” you tried, your attempt at humour seeming flat even to your own ears. Thankfully, Jasper had the groomed manners of a Southern gentleman, which is to say he played along despite the knowledge that you were actively trying to keep the tone of the room a specific flavour. You couldn’t hide your heartbeat from a vampire, and you certainly couldn’t hide your emotions from someone who knew you as well as Jasper did, even without his gift.
“Yes, I’m familiar,” he responded, his voice light despite the breathy quality of his whisper. There was no need for him to speak at a higher volume; you were close enough now that his arm behind your head now hovered just above the ridge of your shoulders, threatening a gentle embrace, his breath kissing along your hairline, tousling stray strands as he exhaled. You lifted a hand to tidy what little he had disrupted, the backside of your hand brushing against his hair, unintentionally shifting his golden curls. You reacted as if you’d dropped something, immediately retracting your hand and assessing the region you’d nudged for damages, finding, instead, Jasper’s butterscotch eyes intent on your own. He was quiet where he would usually fill the silence with some sort of retort, his eyes devouring your features as if he were starving, yet there was a calmness, a patience about his stare… as if he were fully aware that he had all the time in the world to memorize the details of your face. His hand reached for your face, his fingertips shocking your skin as they brushed along your cheekbone, tucking the strand of hair that had been misplaced behind your ear, his touch lingering far longer than usual before his hand retracted. His lips pursed as he exhaled once more, a cautious, tentative breath slipping from his lungs. You opened your mouth to speak, your lips parting readily, Jasper’s eyes ducking to your mouth with a quiet hunger you wouldn’t have recognized if you weren’t feeling exactly the same way.
“You would do it again?” you asked, your voice weaker than you intended, Jasper eyes finding yours in the relative darkness, the credits rolling blackly and thieving the illumination from the room. He smiled simply, his movements so much smaller now that you were so close, his eyes gleaming despite the inky quality of the room. You had no doubt he could see you clearly. “All of it?”
“Of course I’d do it again. If I had never gone to war, I would have never been bitten. I would have never had the opportunity to meet you. War is no picnic, and ours was a particularly gruesome one, but I’d do it over and over until my dying day, if that day should come, if it meant I could see you when the sun went down.” You exhaled softly, your breath trembling as it left your body, Jasper’s face illuminated then by the title screen of the documentary, his features so much softer than you remembered, so tender…
“Well, aren’t you just a hopeless romantic?” you breathed, your words hushed in the limited space between your bodies, the coolness of his chest chilling you through his shirt where you touched. “Huh. Who would’ve thought? Jasper Whitlock, golden boy of the Confederacy, who would rather go to war again than dare to set foot in French court, has a soft spot for a human who flinches at fake executions. What are we going to do with you?” His eyes, which had been locked on your own, changed suddenly when you spoke his name; most people, including his family, referred to him by the alias Hale, which he had adopted when he joined the Cullen family due to his resemblance to similarly blonde Rosalie. You had no time to discern the meaning behind the so sudden shift in emotions before his hands were cradling your cheeks and his lips had crushed to yours.
You melted easily into his embrace, his hand dropping to the small of your back to bend you into his kiss, your body slipping into his lap as he held you to the marble coolness of his chest. Your lips answered his where they could, the both of you so fervent and overwhelmed by passion, but not mindless enough to forget the sharpness of his teeth now one wrong move away from slicing your lips. Your hands moved to tangle in his hair, your body arching into his when suddenly, he had separated himself from you, moving in the course of a single ragged breath to the opposite end of the couch. His eyes were wide with shock, his chest rising and falling with his breathing, which you had never seen so unsteady. His hands he held in his lap, his eyes on your face.
“I’m… please forgive me for,” he paused, formulating his words carefully while you caught your breath, your lips electric from his kiss, your heart galloping in your chest. “Where are my manners?” he chuckled, a bit breathless, his voice feebler than you had heard it before. “I shouldn’t have done that, not without… I should have asked your permission, I’m…” he exhaled, his eyes burning when they met yours. “Please accept my apologies. I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have done that without first asking if you were-” you sat upright, your voice emerging far stronger than before despite your lack of steady breath.
“Shut up, Jasper.” His voice trailed off to hear you speak, his eyes staring into yours with genuine shock, his lips parting wordlessly. “Ask me.” He stared at you, blankly, not quite comprehending the turn of events that had unfolded so suddenly. He shook his head slightly, as if attempting to dash the confusion from his brain, his chest expanding as he inhaled.
“I’m sorry, I don’t-” he began, asking for clarification. You simply repeated yourself, your voice quiet and steady as you analyzed his features.
“Ask me, Jasper.” His eyes burned from within, his lips parting over a gentle smile, his happiness all but tangible in the darkness. When he spoke, his voice was dripping with sarcasm, mimicking your rendition of his voice, laying heavy on the Southern twang he had lost so long ago.
“Would you mind terribly, Miss, if I were to steal a kis-” he began, his arms enveloping you as you threw yourself into his arms, your lips finding his easily, his unnaturally quick reflexes melting you into his embrace once more. You wound your arms around his neck, your fingertips threading through the hair at the back of his head, his lips moving sweetly against your own. His thumb traced over your jawline, his fingers tangling in your hair, his kisses becoming more passionate with every minor separation. Your senses were so absorbed in the taste, the feel, the smell of him, that you didn’t notice when your company expanded.
“I’ll tell you what we can do with him, Y/n. Get him to a bedroom, huh?” Emmett sang, his voice gravelly as he chuckled. You and Jasper all but flew apart, his hands straightening your clothing where it had been disheveled, shooting daggers at the brother whose entry he, too, had missed. “Hey, I won’t judge. It’s just that this is a family room, Jasper. Best not to defile it.” Jasper hissed lowly at his brother, the aggravated grumble melting to a sigh as Emmett left the room, winking in your direction. You buried your face in Jasper’s chest, deflating with embarrassment as you giggled into the fabric of his shirt, his hands smoothing over your back, his body shaking beneath your hands as his laughter mingled with your own.
You looked up from pouring a beer for someone when you heard the doors to the Garrison open. Not many people were in today. It was hardly afternoon so the only people around were the drunks. Tommy walked in with Arthur and John, heading for the private room. Arthur had told you a few days ago that they were planning an expansion and would be holding interviews for men to join the Blinders in the coming days.
“We’re taking London.” Had been Arthur’s explanation when he’d told you about it. You had been balancing the books for the Garrison and Arthur had been gossiping about the business with you while you worked.
“Good luck with that.” You were unenthused by the information. You had been putting off talking to Tommy for the past few weeks and with the news of London it seemed like finding a good time to talk would be pointless.
Summary: a play fight between Y/N and Jack might lead to something more
A/n: This is just a fluffy imagine. It’s very short, I know but I quite liked it like this. Xoxo
Requested:Can you write an imagine about play fighting with Jack? Thank you so much anon for requesting! I hope you like it!
“WHO THE BLOODY HELL ATE MY
CHOCLATE?”, you yelled through the apartment you shared with the Maynards and
Josh. You met Conor and Jack at school in Brighton and you’ve been best friends
ever since. Even when they moved to London. What nobody knew, was that you had
a little crush on the youngest brother so you felt heartbroken to see them
leave. But a few years later, you too moved to London. That’s when the brothers
asked you to move in with them and their roommate Josh. Of course you said yes.
Who would say no to living with the boy you’ve crushed on since you were 15?
You love living with them, but you also wanted
a bit of privacy. That’s why you came up with a few rules: the most important
one was to not touch YOUR food. And may that now be the rule someone decided to
Since nobody answered, you
went to everyone’s room. “Conor did you ate my food?”, you asked the boy who
was still in his dressing gown. “Nope. I wouldn’t even dare to touch your food.
You can be a scary girl sometimes Y/N”. Smirking you asked:” Do you know who it
was then?”. “I’m pretty sure Josh is even more scared of you, so my money is on
Jack”. “I knew it! Thanks Con”, you said while closing his door.
You crossed the hall and
opened Jacks door, not even bothering knocking. The first thing you saw, were a
bunch of wrappers laying on his bed. “You bloody bastard. That was my chocolate!”.
Jack looked up from his laptop when he heard you. “Well then don’t just put it
on the counter. How am I supposed to know it’s yours if you don’t put it away?”,
he asked innocently. “You’re going to pay for this”, you said with a glare. He just
smiled. “Oh yeah? And how did you plan on doing that?”. “Oh I don’t know. Maybe
by doing … THIS”.
You jumped on him and started
tickling him. But of course he had grabbed you before you could even touch his
stomach. You always forgot how strong he actually was. “Dumb move Y/N, dumb
move”, Jack said while pushing you on his bed and straddling you. “Don’t Jack.
I know that look. Don’t you dare!”, you said just before he attacked. He tickled
you so bad, your stomach actually hurt from laughing.
“Please! Jack! Please stop!”, you
tried to say. “Are you going to apologize for accusing me?”, he asked with a
smile. “But you did it!”. He kept tickling so you just yelled: “I’m sorry for
accusing you!”. He stopped. “That’s better. What are you going to do to
apologize?”. “Nothing… ?”. his hands already went back to your sides. “No wait.
Whatever you want! I’ll do whatever you want!”.
“You sure about that?”, Jack
asked with a smirk. Suddenly you were very much aware of Jack and yours
position. He was sitting on top of you, his face inches from yours. You could
even see every color in his eyes. Those beautiful, baby blue eyes. You were so
taken away that you couldn’t bring out any words, so you just nodded.
“I only want two things from
you”. “And what are those?”, you asked. “A kiss and for you to be my girlfriend”.