+ Hangman "sharing A Bed. Then Making Up More Excuses To Share A Bed After That Night Just To Wake Up

💘 + hangman "sharing a bed. then making up more excuses to share a bed after that night just to wake up next to their roommate in the mornings." from the "and they were roommates!" list <3

thank you for your patience! mentions of alcohol but i think that’s it. i had a lot of fun with this one and i hope you like it <3 - [1.2k] | join the party!

It was a one off fluke. Well…it was supposed to be. It was going to be until you realized that there was something sweet in waking up next to your roommate in the morning. 

It didn’t have anything to do with the crush that had just rooted itself in your chest, at least that’s what you told yourself.

That first morning was sweet until you remembered why you were sharing a bed and a wave of embarrassment came over you like a tidal wave. 

You’d come home from a night out, absolutely plastered. In the haze of your memories, you can vaguely remember one of your friends using your phone to call Jake while you were out at the bar. He’d picked up on the first ring and you could hear his voice saying your name like a question over the phone.

“Is that Jake?” your words were slurred but your eyes were bright and shining. Your friend shushed you gently and readjusted your phone against their ear. You tried to grab for it and they turned away from you, keeping their free hand wrapped around your arm.

You can’t remember much of what was said in the conversation, only that your friend told him you needed a ride home and that Jake was already out the door. You squirmed in your friend’s grip, reaching for the phone again. “Lemme talk to ‘im.”

In a blink, your phone was back in your possession but the call had ended. You think you remember frowning at the screen when you noticed. 

“C’mon, he’s gonna be here soon,” your friend said, tugging you towards the entrance of the bar you were at. Sure enough, he’d arrived not even five minutes later. He looked a little tired, fighting off sleep while he waited up for you to come home. 

“Jake!” it came out in something close to a gasp, a great big smile lifting your cheeks. Your inhibitions were low as you stumbled towards him and all but collapsed against him, his arms coming around your waist to catch you. His t-shirt was soft against your cheek and you remember keeping your nose pressed against his chest for an almost embarrassingly long time because he smelled so good. 

He’d smiled and nodded at your friend in a quiet thanks before he led you to his car. You had held your breath while he buckled you in and tried to focus on one point on the horizon to wade off the nausea creeping up. Jake let you lean most of your weight against him as he helped you inside and to your room where you collapsed onto your bed. 

As soon as your head hit the mattress you felt a sleepiness take hold, your eyelids feeling heavier with each blink. You’d groaned when Jake made you go into the bathroom to change for bed and he’d helped you take your makeup off when you were too stubborn to do it yourself.

When you were all settled into bed, advil and water on your bedside table for the morning, he’d turned off your lamp and got up to leave. You feel a slight bit embarrassed when you recall asking him to stay with you before he could leave the room. You hadn’t really expected him to agree, but he did. 

You lift your head off the pillow and it immediately begins to throb, making your face scrunch up and your eyes squeeze closed. Through the building tension, you remember the water and pain relievers he’d set out for you on your nightstand. Your eyes peel open just enough for you to grab them and swallow the pills down with water. 

After setting the water back down, you look over at Jake sleeping in the spot next to you. He looks so serene, features completely relaxed and his face slightly smushed against your spare pillow. His hair’s a bit of a tousled mess from sleep and the sight of it makes you smile. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he mumbles, eyes still closed. His voice is deeper in the morning, this you already knew but hearing it immediately after he wakes up, in your bed no less, makes a thick, gooey warmth cloud your chest. You roll your eyes, though he can’t see it, fighting off the embarrassment tickling your nerves at having been caught staring at your sleeping roommate. 

“I didn’t think you’d stay,” you say after you’ve laid back down. His eyes blink open and he’s quiet for a minute. He holds your gaze for a minute, lets it wander across your face and then back to your eyes. He shrugs best he can, laying on his side. 

“You asked,” he says simply, like it’s obvious. You swallow and nod. He looks over your features once more, almost like he’s committing them to memory, and Jake realizes he likes having you to wake up next to. 

After that first morning, the two of you find almost any excuse you can to share a bed at night. 

You can’t sleep and knock on his door in the middle of the night, complaining of a minor nightmare. Jake puts his sheets in the wash and claims he doesn’t have a made bed to sleep in, despite the spare set of sheets in the closet. He hosts movie night in his room under the guise of the couch suddenly being too small. 

Slowly, over the course of many nights and phases of the moon, something in your dynamic shifts. He’s a lot more touchy with you, his fingers lingering against your skin. You get braver by kissing his cheek before you get out of bed the last few times. 

It’s an unspoken change, one neither of you really feel the need to address. That is, until excuse number fifteen—the storm outside might make you lose power and it’s better to just sleep in the same bed in case that happens—and he’s holding you in his bed.

The rain splashes against the windows, flashes of lightning lighting up the room as thunder cracks overhead. It’s quiet though in the comfort of his sheets. You can’t decide if you’re starting to prefer his mattress to yours. A hum of your name breaks you from your thoughts and you adjust your head to meet his eye. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts and you try to bite back a smirk. 

“That’s never good,” you muse. He laughs and shakes his head. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he restates. There’s the beginnings of a nervous blush creeping across his cheeks. “Maybe we should do this…permanently.”

You blink at him, eyes a little wide. “This, like, sharing a bed this?”

He nods and you think this is the first time you’ve ever seen your roommate so nervous. You start to smile. You make him nervous. The thought makes you feel giddy inside. 

“Yeah. Okay,” you agree and you can feel him physically relax against you. “Now you can stop lying about not having sheets on your bed or the couch being too small.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face and a laugh bubbling past his lips. He’s just glad he gets to wake up to you every morning now on purpose.

This was great! Couldn’t stop smiling!!

Hi! Is it ok if you do a Charlie Weasley x reader blurb or fic where they never do PDA and you wouldn’t know they are together unless you were really close to them. Then at Christmas with the Weasley’s the show a bit of PDA thinking that no one is around but they are. I really hope that makes sense. Don’t worry if you don’t want to do it xx

I sincerely apologise for how long these are taking, but i am hoping to get the final 6 out after this quicker :)

That being said, i love Charlie and he is absolutely the best character for this request! I had so much fun writing this!

Go fish

The relationship you had with Charlie was an odd one to anyone who wasn’t you or him. To an outsider’s eyes it might seem like you weren’t even dating. You were never sitting in each other’s laps, giving kisses, cuddling in public. Not that it mattered; how you wanted your relationship with Charlie to be was none of other people’s business.

That didn’t mean there was no affection whatsoever. You simply preferred to keep the intimacy private. You didn’t want it to be the world’s issue. This was yours and yours alone. The kisses, hugs, whispered words; they were all kept in the private safety of you and Charlie.

Mainly because of this, your relationship with Charlie was unknown to a lot. Even to those close to you; your family thought Charlie was just a good friend, as did his. That didn’t stop them from gossiping about the supposed feeling you had for each other however. The gossips didn’t fail to reach you and Charlie, but you paid little attention to them, mostly because it was a chaos you didn’t want to be involved in.

An end was put to the gossiping, however, when you were visiting the Burrow with Charlie for Christmas.

His family had invited you to spend Christmas day there and such a great invitation you could not decline. So on Christmas morning you were sitting in the kitchen of the Burrow with the rest of the family, enjoying Molly’s famous brunch. The sphere in the kitchen was great and you had lots of fun catching up with the people you hadn’t seen in a while.

You didn’t miss the looks that were pointed you and Charlie’s way. It was obvious that you sitting next to Charlie was not a coincidence. Throughout the whole breakfast, Molly giggled whenever she saw you were talking with or smiling at Charlie. Fred and George, who were sitting on either sides of you, kept pushing you closer together and even Arthur could not help but smile as he saw Charlie putting his arm on the back of your chair.

However, none of them said a word about what they were trying to accomplish so you didn’t act on it. And neither did Charlie. You both went your normal ways, whether this was together then or alone the next moment.

After the brunch everyone but Molly, who stayed home to prepare for tea already, went outside. The past weeks it had been snowing and with the Burrow on the top of the hill, the scenery around the house was the perfect place for sleighing.

You were—courtesy of Fred and George—put on a sleigh with Charlie. On the top of the hill you sat down on the wooden sleigh and he sat down behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

‘Ready?’ he asked and you felt his hot breath against the part of your skin that wasn’t covered by a scarf.

‘As I’ll ever be,’ you nodded and pushed off the sleigh.

Laughing and yelling filled the empty field as the sleigh raced down the hill. Charlie tightened his grip around your waist as you attempted to keep the sleigh going straight ahead by holding two cords attached to the front.

His laugh sounded clear and loud in your ear and, although it was freezing outside, you felt your cheeks heat up at the sound. Charlie’s laugh was so innocent and pure, you could listen to it forever. The sound never failed to cheer you up, no matter how down in the dump you were.

At the area where the ground got more flat, you put your heels in the snow to slow down. The sleigh began to sway and as the bushes were getting closer, you made a final attempt to turn the thing around. You pulled on one of the cords with all your power and the sleigh made a sharp turn, throwing you and Charlie off.

You rolled on the snow and landed on your back, while Charlie ended up face down in the snow. He jumped up quickly and ran over to you to help you, as you were having difficulty to get up because you were laughing so much. He took your hand and pulled you on your feet.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked worried, while he brushed your hair out of your face.

‘I’m fine, love,’ you said, the last chuckles escaping your mouth as you wiped the snow from Charlie’s forehead.

Charlie pressed a quick kiss to your lips and held your hand as he took the sleigh with the other. ‘Come on, let’s do it again.’

You walked with Charlie up the hill again, joining the others. He gave you a little squeeze as he caught the stare of Fred and you grinned as you followed his gaze. You wondered how long it would take for the Weasleys to realise that you had been dating Charlie for months already.

You stayed outside until it really got too cold to do anything. Your fingers were numb from the cold and they welcomed Molly’s hot chocolate gratefully. In the living room, you spent the afternoon playing games with the Weasley siblings.

Charlie was sitting behind you as you played a very intense game of Go Fish with the twins and Ginny. He was looking at your cards over your shoulder and offering you advice whenever it was your turn.

‘Fred, gimme all your fives,’ George said and reluctantly Fred gave him the three fives he had in his hand. You laughed loudly at the face the twin made as he had to hand over his cards but you soon lost your laugh as George asked for the three twos in your hand. George gave you a smirk and his eyes flickered to behind you before he turned back to his cards.

You turned around quickly and quickly knew what was going on when you saw Charlie’s guilty face. ‘Charlie!’ you cried. ‘Did you tell him what cards I have?’

Charlie said nothing, but the little smirk on his face was enough of an answer for you. Your jaw dropped and you hit Charlie on his arm. ‘Nice boyfriend you are,’ you said decidedly and Charlie’s smirk turned into a pout. ‘You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!’

You turned back around and were met with three baffled faces. A low chuckle came from your throat and Charlie put his hands in your waist, squeezing a little too hard.

‘You’re dating?’ George asked.

‘Well, we have been for the past five months,’ Charlie said, releasing the grip on your waist and instead sitting closer to you and wrapping his arms around it. He rested his chin on your shoulder and smirked at his siblings. ‘But thanks for noticing.’

‘No you can’t be dating,’ Ginny said, lowering her cards. ‘We would have known.’

‘Apparently you didn’t,’ you shrugged. ‘Now come on, let’s play. I need to win from George.’

‘No, wait,’ Fred interrupted. ‘Did mum and dad- MOM!’

Charlie sighed and he let go of you, taking place beside you rather than behind. He leaned forward a little bit and turned his head slightly to read George’s card, who was looking at the doorway for his mother. Charlie sat back and mouthed a number to you.

‘Mom!’ George said when Molly walked into the living room. ‘Did you know they were dating?’

Molly gave her son a soft smile and she nodded. ‘Of course I did. It’s hard to hide such a thing,’ she said and you smiled gratefully at her.

‘See? Guess you’re just oblivious,’ you said, when Molly went back to the other room and George and Fred turned back around. ‘Now give me your threes, so I can win.’

Tiktok Trouble Pt 2- Jake Seresin

Authors Note: LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO SEE MORE 

Word Count: 2253

Warnings: Allusions to smexy times

Description: You love pranking your husband, and tiktok loves it too

Authors Plea: Hey guys! I love likes and reblogs and I thank you all so so much. BUT I LIVE FOR COMMENTS! I really enjoy when you guys tell me what you like and dislike and what you want to see more of, so I beg for more comments. LOVE YOU ALL!

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Request- I HAVE A REQUESTTT, you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to: (grumpy x sunshine with Jake); reader leaves little notes around the house as a reminder for Jake to be nice or to be careful or something like that, he never responds but one time she cooked one of his favourite dishes when he had a bad day before going to bed and she leaves a note and he responds before leaving the next day? Thank you so much💕💕💕

jake seresin x reader ≈ 1000 words masterlist

I LOVED THIS REQUEST TYSM FOR THIS

TW FOR: G-LOC, gravity-induced loss of consciousness, fear of loss, poor communication of sorts

The little habit began with a New Year’s Resolution to be more appreciative of those you love. It was a cheap purchase, that pad of Post-Its, but the notes you gave him every morning were the highlight of his day. He left too early for you to wake for more than a simple peck on the lips and an “I love you.”

Once, it was a quick sentence about how you wished he’d have a good day and you’d be waiting to see him when he got home. All day, he was so excited to see you that he forgot to be an asshole. Phoenix and Bob separately texted you their thanks.

The next, it was a smiley face and an “I love you so much,” written in all capitals and followed by too many exclamation points. The dopey smile stayed on his face for several hours, his words less aggressive and his voice softened. Again, Phoenix and Bob texted you their thanks, this time followed by Rooster.

The little tradition continued on for weeks, everyone eventually ceasing to thank you because they realized that Hangman was slowly becoming just Jake, calming down a bit, and it was getting tedious to text every day.

About six weeks later, Jake walked solemnly through the door two hours before he usually did, eyes cast down to your floorboards, and sighed heavily as he kicked off his boots. Emerging from the kitchen, you saw the way his shoulders sagged and immediately started towards him. “Jake?” You whispered, reaching a hand out to pull his chin up, the skin oddly dewey. You gasped when you saw tears streaking down his cheeks. “Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” You wrapped your arms around him.

He sobbed quietly into your shoulder, his own arms hanging limp at his sides as he bent down to reach your level.

Off-put by his lack of response, you began to pull away, but his arms shot up to hold you and he yelped a “No!” as though you’d stabbed him.

“Okay, okay, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” You soothed, petting his hair as his tears wet your shoulder. You pressed the bottom of your wedding ring against his neck, the familiar metal soothing him as his heaving chest turned to hiccups.

It was a few more minutes before he spoke. “I went into G-LOC today.”

You felt your body lock up and you began to shake, arms clenching tighter around him. “You made it,” you murmured, reassuring both of you.

“I did. You know G-LOC dreams— vivid. Mine was you.” He sighed, burrowing down against you, “As my plane went down and I woke up, I kept thinking I wouldn’t get to see you again.”

“I’m here. You’re here. God, I love you, Jake.”

He nodded, whispering the words back as though you’d scare away, before he pulled back and wiped his eyes. “Sorry your shirt’s all wet now.”

“Jake, you just went through G-LOC. I am more than happy to deal with a few tears on my shirt.” Taking the aforementioned shirt off and walking to toss it in the laundry room, you shouted, “Go hop in the shower, baby. I’m making fried chicken.”

He groaned his thanks loudly before lumbering up the stairs to reach your bedroom, where you assume he gathered his clothes before you heard the shower turn on.

When he emerged, hair wet and face clean of tears, you were scooping the last of the chicken onto a paper-towel covered plate wearing one of his clean shirts. You smiled at him before bending down to pull the fried potatoes out of the oven where they’d been staying warm. “You ready to eat?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you when you set the baking tray down on the stove.

“Why did they not call me?” You asked tentatively, meeting his eyes.

“I wanted to tell you myself. The squad have known for years not to contact you unless I’m seriously hurt.”

You nodded, smiling gently. “Alright.” A few minutes passed of the two of you just holding one another in a loose hug. “Read the apron,” you giggled, knowing he knew full well what it said. With a hum and a raise of his brows, he pulled back slightly to glance down. Meeting your eyes again, he smirked and placed his lips gently against yours.

“Thank you for dinner, darlin’.” You both pulled apart, you grabbing plates from the dishwasher while he picked up napkins from the counter. As you dished up your food, you always touched somehow. Your sides, your feet, you just wanted contact. The two of you parked it on the couch, facing one another, and ate quietly, just happy to be in each others’ presence.

The night came to an early close, the stress of the day making you both want to sleep at around eight.

As per usual, when you woke around midnight to use the restroom, you left him a note.

In the morning, he woke to find a full sheet of paper.

My love,

You are the light of my life. My one and only. Today, you’ll be very safe as you recover from yesterday’s events, or I’ll make sure our good Admiral Bobby puts you on desk duty. Yes, that’s a threat. You’ll also instruct your squad to let me know as soon as something goes wrong, or I’ll do it myself. I’m making navy bean soup tonight. I love you, Jake. <3

His eyes filled with tears as he scrambled for a pencil, a smile splitting his face. When he found one, he scribbled:

I love you so much. I can’t go another day without you having proof of that every single day. I don’t think that made sense but you know me, what I’m trying to say. And yes ma’am, they’ll know as soon as I reach base. Looking forward to that soup tonight <3 <3 <3

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Love it!!

Ties That Bind 10/32

Pairing: MC!Bucky Barnes x Clint’s Twin Sister!Reader

Warning: Oh theeeeee language, sass, banter, violence, sexual puns, loss, abuse mentioned, possessive male characters, criminal activity, defiant females.

At the age of six, Bucky gave me a valentine’s day card, with a sloppy heart and BB scribbled inside.

At ten, he gave me a kiss on the cheek after wailing on Clint for pulling my hair.

At twelve, he pissed me off, staking claim on me in front of the others.

At fifteen, we had our first break up.

At eighteen, we graduated high school and got married.

At twenty one, everything changed.

Two years later, he’s dragging me home… to face the table and all I ran out on.

Tag List Is Open!!

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Omg this was so great!!! I loved it soo much!!

cosy cafe ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: “could i ask for a fem!reader x spencer where they meet at the coffee shop or cafe?? whether the reader is a customer or works there is totally up to you but i just love reading meet cute fluff and you’re one of the best writers for fluff that ik🥺” 6k (im so sorry)

warnings: swearing, reader gets cuts by glass, blood, mention of patting spencer reid’s genitals dry

masterlist

Under the counter, fiddling with some pipes that should really be seen by a professional, you try not wriggle in pain when your co-worker kicks you with her boots.

“He’s here!” She hisses, bending at the waist to spit at you in a panic before standing upright again. You’re still wincing, holding where she hit.

She’s bumbling above you, fixing her hair. You hear the distinct sound of her wet tongue clicking in her mouth as she checks her teeth for any food stuck between them.

You know who’s at the counter before he even speaks. You’re paralysed under the sink, cursing that his schedule means he doesn’t have a set time he visits despite being a regular customer. Now you’re stuck, cramped in the gross and dingy underbelly of the surface Autumn is about to use (to make his favourite drink – coffee with the café’s special syrup that is way too sweet for even some children), all because you refuse to face the person you humiliated yourself in front of the first time you saw him.

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