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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Jessie's Girl

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The Natural History Museum

The day that Magda and Pernille need to go to some fancy dinner to represent the club, is the same day they take you to the Natural History Museum in London.

Jessie told you about how she went weeks ago and it's all you've been talking about since.

You manage to wear Magda and Pernille down with all your talking until they finally relent and book tickets. You insist on Jessie coming too and, soon enough, you're all crammed on the Tube on your way to the museum.

You're sitting in Jessie's arms, squished like a sardine amongst all the other people. You insisted to your Morsa about booking the tickets at opening time so you could see absolutely everything which is why the Tube is packed right now and Jessie's holding you so you don't get swept away with the crowd.

Morsa's got one hand on the pole and the other on Momma's hip to keep her close as the doors open and more people pile off.

The Tube is loud. Very loud and it grates on your ears slightly so you duck yourself under the collar of Jessie's open jacket to try and block it out. You squeeze your eyes shut super tight too before it's finally your stop and the four of you pile off.

Jessie carries you all the way through the station before setting you on your feet again and letting you hold Momma's hand as you walk the rest of the way.

You're vibrating with excitement as Morsa gets the tickets scanned and then you're in.

It's your first time at a museum and, for a moment, you look like you're going to bolt so Pernille tightens her grip on your hand to make sure you can't escape.

The Natural History Museum is massive and Pernille knows just how easy it is to lose a little kid like you. You haven't hit your growth spurt yet so you're still on the shorter side and you would disappear amongst a big crowd like this too easily for her to be comfortable in letting go of your hand.

"What are you most looking forward to seeing, princesse?" Magda asks as you all stop in the middle of the hall to stare up in awe at the blue whale skeleton suspended from the ceiling.

"Er..." You think for a moment. "Dinosaurs! 'Cause Jessie says they're so cool!"

"Alright." Magda grabs a map from a pile nearby, unfolding it and studying it like Pernille hadn't caught her looking at the online version just last night. "I think we hit zone red first and go through all the stuff about volcanoes and rocks. Then we'll go to green zone and look at bugs and minerals. Then lunch and after that it should be about time for those tickets we booked for the spirit collection and then we'll round it off with mammals and dinosaurs and the gift shop. Sound good?"

Pernille laughs. "It's sweet that you've got everything planned out but I think our kids are already trying to plan out their own route." She tilts her head over to where you and Jessie (who has crouched down to be at your level) are discussing your own plans.

Magda sighs, lifting you up easily so you can't plan a mutiny on her and starts off towards the red zone.

"Morsa," You grunt," Wrong way! Dinosaurs!"

"Dinosaurs are last," Magda insists," Save the best until last."

You frown. "Like best bite last at dinner?"

"Exactly that," Magda says," We'll go look at rocks and volcanoes first and we'll work our way back to the dinosaurs. Sound good?"

You huff. "Fine."

Despite your original annoyance, you do find yourself enjoying the red zone and then the following green zone. Both you and Jessie are kept occupied for nearly fifteen minutes looking at the fossils of old ocean reptiles and Magda and Pernille rest their feet on a bench nearby.

At lunch, you and Jessie share a big bowl of mac and cheese and Pernille nearly laughs at how excited you both seem to explore the museum - even though Jessie went only a few weeks ago.

"Those are animals in jars," Pernille hisses to Magda during the spirit collection tour," We could be mentally scarring her right now."

"She loves it," Magda whispers back as you (and Jessie) listen, enamoured by what the guide is saying," Who knows? Maybe this is going to solve the problem of her wanting a pet. Nothing like a dead animal to put someone off of wanting a live one."

Pernille rolls her eyes. "You're evil. A pet wouldn't kill us."

"She's enough for us right now," Magda laughs.

By the time the mammal section rolls around, you're complaining of tired feet and Pernille swings you up onto her hip so you can rest and reads out the plaques to you.

Or, she tries to, because you keep interrupting to read them for yourself. You've gotten good at reading even though you're yet to go to school.

Magda insisted on starting you early, teaching you the basic principles of sounding out letters and phonetics to help you along.

Frankly, Pernille thinks it's frightening how intelligent you are at such a young age. You're Swedish and Danish bedtime storybooks are getting scarily easy for you to sound out and she shouldn't be surprised that you're applying the same rules to your English.

"What's that mean?" You ask, pointing at the italicised scientific name of the animal you're reading about.

"It's Latin," Pernille replies," Scientists use it to give a fancy name to different species."

"What's Latin?"

"It's a dead language," Jessie jumps in," No one speaks it anymore. It's just used to make scientists look smart."

You think for a moment. "Morsa calls me smart! Can I learn Latin, Momma?"

"Maybe when you're older," Pernille replies indulgently, not at all taking it seriously.

(She'll remember this conversation randomly when a letter comes home when you're sixteen asking if you could pretty please stop signing up for advanced Latin class because the teachers have nothing more to teach you).

Your feet have miraculously recovered from their aches and pains when you get to the dinosaur exhibit and Magda intervenes quickly when it looks like both you and Jessie are going to bolt.

She grabs you both by the hand and makes you fall into step with her.

"You stay where I can see you," She tells both of you equally," You hold each other's hands. You don't run ahead. If you can't hear me talking at a normal volume then you have gone too far ahead. You turn around and come straight back until you can hear me again."

"Yes, Magda."

"Yes, Morsa."

"Good. Remember your rules. Go and have fun."

Jessie shows you all of the dinosaurs, even down to the very little ones and you listen with rapt attention.

It's the slowest Magda and Pernille have seen you move all day, just taking everything in and hanging off Jessie's every word.

You almost don't want to leave and only the promise of a dinosaur at the giftshop gets you to move your legs again.

You browse for a while and so does Jessie, piling her arms up high with dinosaur merch. Magda, admittedly, knew that Jessie was a nerd in the best way possible but this only solidified it.

"No, princesse," Pernille says firmly when she sees you jumping to reach a jumbo triceratops plushie that said it cost sixty pounds," That's too expensive."

"Momma," You whine," Please?"

"I'm sorry," She says," But you know there's a budget on gift shop toys. What does your Morsa say about gift shops?"

"That they're stupidly overpriced and tourist traps for idiots," You repeat dutifully, sounding more and more like Magda that Pernille has to laugh.

"That's right," She says," So pick out something smaller so your Morsa doesn't complain about being conned out of money for the entire train ride home."

You huff in annoyance but ultimately choose an arctic wolf plushie because it's got super soft fur.

It's only twenty pounds but Magda still grumbles under her breath about gift shops being stupidly overpriced.

"Jessie," Magda says as you and her step out of the giftshop," What the hell is that?"

Jessie, at least, is feeling enough guilt to look down bashfully. "It's for y/n."

"Jessie," Magda says again," That's massive."

It's the triceratops you were eyeing up earlier and you nearly take Jessie to the ground from the force of the hug you give her.

You sit in Jessie's lap during the (much emptier) train ride home and you crash out asleep for your very delayed midday nap.

You stay asleep when you change trains. You stay asleep during the car ride and you stay asleep as Magda and Pernille get ready for their dinner tonight.

Jessie's your babysitter for the hours that they're gone for and you wake up as Magda and Pernille are a few minutes away from leaving.

"Momma," You whine," Don't go."

While your separation anxiety isn't as bad when you've been told in advance about things, it's still present and you still sniffle a little as your mothers gives you goodnight hugs and kisses because you'll be tucked up in bed by the time they get back.

You still sitting in front of the front door with Momma's Linköping jumper and Morsa's blanket.

For half an hour, Jessie doesn't understand how to help you. She's been warned about this explicitly, about how much you miss Magda and Pernille when they're gone.

She thought she would be fine but it's clear that this isn't something she can fully pull you out of.

So, Jessie turns on the tv, playing a random animated movie and just sits with you for support.

Somewhere along the way, you wiggle into her lap, leaning your back against her front and holding her hands around your belly for security.

"Do you want a drink?" Jessie asks quietly.

It takes hours for her to coax you into being a bit more like yourself, gradually shifting further and further away from the door until you're both sitting on the sofa again.

You're lying on Jessie's front, head lying pillowed on her chest as you stare longingly at the door.

One of Jessie's hands is under your top, gently drawing patterns on your back while the other plays with the little baby hairs you have at the base of your scalp.

It's nice. Not quite like how Morsa and Momma do it but enough for it to make you go all limp and boneless in her arms.

It's dark when Magda and Pernille come in from their dinner. Magda drove so Pernille was able to get a little tipsy on just one too many wines.

It's dark. The moon and stars are out but the light in the front room is open and the tv is still blaring some random show that's being shown gone one in the morning.

Jessie's asleep on the sofa, still in the clothes she worse to the museum. One of her hands is dangling on the floor, her knuckles skimming the carpet while the other is wrapped around your back.

You're still in your museum clothes too but you look perfectly content and happy, fast asleep on Jessie's chest.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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sunshine-theseus · 6 months

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Apple and Chocolate Muffins | Katie McCabe x Reader

Words: 1.9k Summary: owning a café apparently brings you the girl of your dreams Warnings: fluff

Having your own little book café on a corner of a small street in St Albans, London, brings you things you’d never expect.

I’d first bought the place from an older lady, Ms Nelson, who sold antiques. She’d decided she wanted to spend whatever time she had left travelling. She tried to simply give it to me, but I couldn’t accept and ended up paying her half of what was listed.

She likes to send me post cards whenever she’s about to leave a place. I put the most recent on display on the counter and the rest go in an antique memento box she gifted me before she left.

Ms Nelson also introduced me to my best friend Juniper, one of her old workers who helps run the place now.

“3 years here and you still refuse to tell me what your special recipe is. Whyyy?” Juniper’s favourite item, was my special apple and chocolate muffins. It was an item I refused to take off no matter how many times we changed the menu.

“They wouldn’t be a secret then would they June?”

“But I’m your best friend. And I need these in my life daily.”

“I literally make an extra 3, every night, just for you.”

The ringing of the bell on the door stops her from retaliating, and I approach the counter while June finally makes an order for Mr Byrne, one of our regulars.

“Welcome to the Inkwell Café! What can I get you?” I look at the customer, but my breath gets caught in my throat.

It’s like the Gods just sent down and angel to derail my day. Her eyes were a greyish blue and her skin was sun kissed, freckles scattering her cheeks. And her arms… well fuck me.

“Hello?” I hadn’t even realised I’d stopped paying attention until she waves a hand in front of my face.

“S- sorry could you repeat that?” I let out a nervous chuckle, but she just smiles a magnificent smile.

She starts listing off an order and I momentarily get caught off by her Irish accent, but I manage to take down the 3 different drinks. I’m about to tell her the total when she stops me again.

“Oh! And can I get one of those apple and chocolate muffins? Jonas is going to kill me, but I hear they’re worth it.” I give her a confused look.

“My friend Steph, she comes here once a month as a treat and raves about it at training.” Training?

“Oh! Well, here’s an extra one for her! For free of course. What’s the name for the order?”

“Katie”

“It will be ready soon.” I flash a smile before going to make the coffees.

June comes out of nowhere.

“Why is Katie fucking McCabe in here?” she whispers into my ear.

“Who?”

“Katie McCabe. One of the best Arsenal players ever? Captain for the Republic of Ireland Women’s National Football team? How do you not know her? I talk about Arsenal all the time. They literally train right down the road.” I stare blankly back at her.

“How did she even find us? You don’t casually find this café on your way to work.”

“She said her friend Steph comes here, told her about it.”

“Steph Cately!? I’ve never seen Steph Cately walk through those doors.”

“…Who? And you do tend to not pay attention.” Juniper just groans and I finish making the coffees.

“Katie!” as I give her the drinks, her hand brushes against my own. Tingles run up my arm, but I bid her adieu with a small smile and wave.

~~~~~

Katie begins coming in every Tuesday and Friday, and we slowly get to know each other while Juniper freaks out in the corner. Or sometimes Katie liked to just sit and read in a corner for whatever time she had before she left for training. Either way it was nice.

She loved telling me about her younger sister Lauryn who was on her way to joining Katie on their senior national team, and her crazy encounters on the pitch during games. I tell her about how and why I decided to open a book café and retell the stories Ms Nelson sends me. I also desperately try to repress all my feelings for the Irish angel that blessed my shop every week.

I also find out who Steph is. A very nice Australian woman, who does in fact come in once a month for the Apple and Chocolate muffin. I get to know her a bit too, but she usually grabs her muffin and something for her fiancée and leaves.

The first time Katie misses a Tuesday is 4 months after her first visit. I’m disappointed but don’t think much of it until she doesn’t show up on Friday, or either day the week following. That’s when I decide to visit their training ground, obviously dragging June along to do any talking, to see if I can figure out what happened.

I don’t think about how weird it is until Juniper pulls me out of the car in front of their training centre at 9am on Friday after hurriedly closing the café. And a promise for a free coffee to everyone we had to kick out.

“June this was stupid, this is something you do, not me. Why didn’t you talk me out of it.”

“I’m about to meet the whole Arsenal team just because your huge crush failed to come for her regular coffee a few times.”

“But like it is weird she just stopped coming so abruptly, right? Like we were getting along.”

“I mean sure, but you didn’t freak out like this when Mickie stopped coming. And it took us another six months to find out she’d moved to fucking Glasgow.”

“We should leave shouldn’t we.”

I turn around to head back to the car right as we’re about to enter the reception but come face to face with a slightly shorter brunette. One I’ve seen the face of in some recent team photo Katie had shown me, but was otherwise completely unfamiliar.

“Are you trying to get in? The door can be a little tricky sometimes.” How many Australians did they have here?

“Oh no-“

“Yes! We’re friends of Katie; Y/n and Juniper, and we haven’t seen her in a few weeks. We were hoping to catch her.”

“Oh! I think she’s shown us a picture of you actually! She talks about you both quite a bit. I’m Kyra by the way.”

“I know.”

“Nice to meet you.” I talk over Juniper and hold out a hand for Kyra to shake.

“Well, I’m not quite sure why she hasn’t come to see you, but I can bring you back to the locker room, you’ll just need to fill some forms out probably.” She’s already leading us to the front desk before I can deny her offer.

Not 5 minutes later Kyra is happily dragging us to the locker room, and I can see Juniper skipping next to me, clearly excited.

“Dude you’ve gotta calm down.” I whisper to her.

“More like you need to stop being so uptight. Kyra Cooney-Cross is literally leading us to the whole Arsenal women’s team.”

“McCaaaabe! Someone’s here to see yoouuu.” Kyra calls out as soon as she opens the door.

“It’s not my bloody mum again is it? I swear she decides to come surprise me far too often.”

I peak out from behind Kyra and give a small wave.

“Hiii” I say meekly as Juniper jumps into talking to her favourite players.

“What are you doing here?” Katie gives me a quick hug.

“Well, you kinda stopped showing up and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Oh, y- yeah. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just, I started getting feelings for you and freaked out and thought that cutting you off would help.”

“Y- you like me?”

“Yeah. Like a lot. I obviously totally understand you don’t like me back.” She lets out a sigh and looks at her boots.

“Shh shoosh shut up.” I place my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up.

It was hard to escape the doom of falling in love with Katie McCabe. Her eyes were the perfect shade of blue, her lips the softest of pinks, her freckles like the stars. She had the kindest of hearts and the most beautiful laugh. A creation made by Aphrodite herself.

“I really like you too.” And her lips are softer than you could imagine as she presses her’s hard against my own.

We’re broken apart by an array of whistles and shouts from Juniper and Katie’s teammates and I hide my flushed face in her neck.

“I can’t believe we finally get to meet the girl Katie hasn’t shut up about for like 4 months.” Alessia Russo, one player I am familiar with, comments from across the room.

“You talk about me?” I poke her in the side.

“Y/n you can’t talk you literally don’t shut up about Katie. ‘Oh my god she’s sooo funny and pretty.’”

“Bro what the fuck? That was a secret you were meant to take to your grave.” Juniper simply shrugs.

“As much as I want to stay and tease you about how much you talk about me, and kiss you, we do unfortunately have training.” Katie pouts as she hugs me.

“Oh! Before I forget. I brought you an apple and chocolate muffin.” I pull the baked good from my bag and hand it to her.

“Fuuuck yees! You are literally the best person ever. I need to know your recipe so bad.”

“Mmmm maybe I could teach you how to make them. Tonight, at the café?”

“I’VE BEEN ASKING FOR THAT RECIPE FOR 3 FUCKING YEARS AND YOU’RE GOING TO JUST HAND IT OVER TO HER?” Juniper’s outburst makes the room erupt in giggles.

“How about for your birthday?” She nods solemnly and begins to say goodbye to the other girls as they begin to head out to the pitch for training.

I turn back to Katie.

“I’ll see you tonight…” She leans up and kisses me one more time.

“Girlfriend.” She leaves before I can reply, and I’m left to giggle as Juniper drives us back to the café, to reluctantly reopen for the rest of the day.

~~~~~

The clock shows 6:13 and I begin to think Katie flaked, but right as I’m packing up the ingredients, the bell rings and in rushes a flushed, panting, Katie McCabe.

“I’m so… sorry! Caitlin could only… drop me… a few blocks away… so I had to… run.” She pants out.

“It’s ok.” I peck her on the cheek and take her coat, then offer her some water which she sculls down.

We spend hours baking and messing around. Mostly kissing.

~~~~~

Another 6 months pass before Katie and I decide to move in together in a small apartment down the street from the café.

She now helps me bake my apple and chocolate muffins once a week, insisting she has to always be in a simple cropped singlet after I had made a comment about how good her arms looked when she mixes the batter.

There was something so domestic about baking together that made it hard not to just scream to the world how much I loved the woman. Instead, I stick to wrapping my arms around her waist and whispering it in her ear, periodically kissing her while she cuts the apples or mixes whatever needs mixing.

I can’t wait to tell Ms Nelson her apple and chocolate muffins brought me the most beautiful girl in the world. She and her wife have been begging for a new post card.

#woso x reader #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #woso #womens soccer #wwc 2023

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whorekneecentral · 7 months

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merry smutmas series

hi besties!! since I'm skipping out on kinktober this year, I figured I wouldn’t be fair for me to leave you guys without some sort of holiday treat so here we go again.

I won’t be able to fit everyone into this series cause with would have taken me forever so between classes and other fics, I’ve been working on this since august lmao. I hope y’all enjoy these as much as I enjoyed writing it <33 // massive thank you to @oconso for the banners and to @themandaloriansdiaries for all the help plotting and for listening to my complaining <3

running from: November 1st to December 31st - every Tuesday, Thursday and on the weekends

tagged under: merry smutmas xoxo

November 1st: Sebastian Vettel - Sticky Fingers

Your husband spends his first Christmas at home since his retirement and he went a little.. a lot over board.

November 4th: Trent Alexander Arnold - As Red As My Stockings

Trent’s crush on the pretty physio is well known amongst the players. They make sure to help him fulfil one last Christmas wish before you all head home for the holidays.

November 5th: Pato O’Ward - Snow Storms

Your boyfriend insists the roads are fine to drive despite the massive incoming snow storm; as someone who grew up in cold weather, you knew better. yet, there you were stuck on the side of the road with him in the snow.

November 7th: Ruben Dias - Miss Me, Miss Me

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess. (stones!reader)

November 9th: Pierre Gasly - Cocoa

You have your boyfriend drive all around the city until you find the one thing you were looking for. When you finally find it, you decide you want something else.

November 11th: Ben Chilwell - Snowflakes On The Glass

Ben insists on having a snowball fight when he wakes up to the massive snowfall but you want nothing more than to stay in bed.

November 12th: Kimi Raikkonen - Only The Best For You

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly. (dad’s best friend!kimi)

November 14th: Lucas Paquetá - Spin Me Around

Lucas busts out the champagne and the streamers to celebrate the new years in your new place.

November 16th: Yuki Tsunoda - Sous Chef

Yuki finds himself more fascinated by the woman cooking than the food on his plate for once. (chef!reader)

November 18th: Erling Haaland - Christmas On The Farm

Erling takes you home to spend the holidays at the Haaland Family Farm and you two end up being the only ones there.

November 19th: Lance Stroll - Old Friends

Lance gets an invitation to an old teammate’s place to ring in the new year but he finds himself too distracted by someone in particular to care about the ball dropping (vettel!reader)

November 21st: Jude Bellingham - Ugliest Sweater Wins

Jude is invited to Luka’s Christmas party, an ugly Christmas sweater party to be exact. It took a bit of convincing but you got him to go.

November 23rd: Daniel Ricciardo - The Flash Of The Camera

You enlist Daniel to help you with your Christmas gift for him.

November 25th: John Stones - Black Out

Your boyfriend blows a fuse with the Christmas lights and you’re stuck in the dark, but you find a way to make the best of it.

November 26th: Fernando Alonso - Your Pick

Fernando enlists the help of a certain someone to get his Christmas shopping done but the list is oddly familiar (pr officer!reader)

November 28th: Kostas Tsimikas - The Smell Of The Holidays

You over baked for your niece’s holiday bake sale so you do the neighbourly thing and share with your neighbour, Kostas and his two puppies.

November 30th: Toto Wolff - Winter Wonderland

Your husband skips out on Christmas every year due to work but this year, he ends up in London. You make it your mission to introduce him to some holiday fun.

December 2nd: Christian Pulisic - Ho Ho Hoe

You find a pair of Christmas boxers in Christian’s drawers and decide to tease him about it.

December 3rd: Mick Schumacher - Merry Ruff-mas

Angie goes missing the day before Christmas and Mick finds her at the neighbouring ranch, wrapped up with ribbon and bows.

December 5th: Jordan Henderson - Shivers

Jordan comes in after shovelling the driveway and keeps trying to love on you. You tell him that you can feel how cold he is but he makes sure to show you what cold really feels like.

December 7th: Lewis Hamilton - Tis’ The Season

An old friend finds his way to you front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t.

December 9th: Dominik Szoboszlai - Come Home

The two of you are separated over the holidays and you’re missing each other a little too much to keep this going.

December 10th: Charles Leclerc - The Night Before Christmas

A massive snow storm delays Charles’ flight home for the holidays and you both begin to give up hope but a Christmas miracle occurs.

December 12th: Virgil Van Dijk - Holiday Greetings

You send your old friend a Christmas card every year and when he sees that a certain someone was no longer in the picture, he pays you a long overdue visit.

December 14th: Mark Webber - A New Term

You send your professor an email over the winter break and the man wonders why you’re still working, urging you to come out and relax like everyone else. (Professor!Webber)

December 16th: Thiago Alcantara - Bubbles

You find yourself aching from all the holiday prep and your husband being the good man that he was, makes sure you’re feeling okay after a long day.

December 17th: Jenson Button - A Sandy Christmas

Jenson takes you on a dream vacation over the holidays but still makes sure you’ve got a gift to open come Christmas morning. (Sugar Daddy!Jenson)

December 19th: Kylian Mbappe - Family’s Growing

Kylian finds himself swooning over how good you are with his niece and nephew, the thought of having a family with you spins around his head.

December 21st: Carlos Sainz Jr - Traditions

Coming back from Christmas with your family, the two of you return to Spain to celebrate new years with his family and all their traditions.

December 23rd: Andy Robertson - Mistletoe Means Kisses

The overpowering smell of mistletoe hits you when you walk into he house, your husband came up with his own plan while you were out.

December 24th: George Russell - A New Tradition

You and George spend your first Christmas together and you mash together the traditions from both of your families.

December 26th: Jack Grealish - Always Around

A wild new years night out leaves you bumping the same person over and over again.

December 28th: Esteban Ocon - The Gift Of Giving

Esteban takes a liking to the barista that works at the cafe near his place. He finally works up the courage to ask her out in time for the holidays.

December 30th: Sergio Ramos - Secret Santa

The players and the staff play secret Santa every year; they write a letter, toss in a box and everyone picks. Sergio some how lands on the person he’s always had a soft spot for.

December 31st: Max Verstappen - Time Is Running Out

Max wasn’t one for resolutions but as the clock counts down the hours to new years, he finds himself running to resolve the biggest resolution on his list; you.

#merry smutmas xoxo #football smut #f1 smut

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icallhimjoey · 2 months

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Explain Us

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help!, language

Author’s note: happy end or nah? HAPPY END OR NAH????

Wordcount: 4.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You had to fix it.

Had to apologise and not leave it too long, because if you left it too long, you’d just leave it forever and then you’d never fucking sleep again.

“peperoni or chicken?” you texted, then waited.

It had been just over two hours since you’d walked out of Joe’s flat and you felt extremely stupid. It only got worse when you saw Joe had received and read the message, but then went offline again.

Left on read. Great.

“veg?”

Double grey checkmark.

“just cheese?”

No response.

So, pizza wasn’t the answer. What a crazy concept. It had been the exact right answer for a long time, but, for you. Sharing a pizza with Joe was his fix for you.

What could be Joe’s answer? What could be your fix for him? Your apology didn’t have to be huge. He’d moved out without a heads up, for fuck’s sake. You’d just knocked over a plant.

Oh.

A plant?

Yea. A plant. A big one. A big, green, nice leafy plant.

For in the corner. Or, wherever else Joe wanted to put it. He got to decide that for himself. You knew where it would go best, but, it wasn’t your flat, so you weren’t going to push your opinion. Not unless he asked. It would absolutely look best in that bit of dead space by the–

No.

His flat. His plant. His choice.

A big plant. A gift from you to him. Former flatmate to former flatmate. To be friendly and kind and normal.

To say sorry.

But, without words.

Joe could just accept the gesture and not mention it and then you could go back to normal. Or, well, find a new normal. That would be best.

People gave people plants for house warming gifts, didn’t they? This was normal. If someone would ask, it wouldn’t be weird. And the little plant that you carried in the tote around your shoulder was technically his, so that wasn’t strange either.

“Here you go!” someone else entered the shop just as you left, and held the door open for you.

“Yea, got it! Thank you!” you tried to sound more upbeat than you were whilst you carefully manoeuvred yourself out. Polite smiles got exchanged and you adjusted your grip a little, the big kentia palm heavy in your hands.

House warming gift.

Normal.

You were a normal friend, making your way over to your normal friend who was moving into his new normal flat and you were bringing normal house warming gifts.

If his dad was still there you could say that you just went out to go and replace what you’d accidentally broken.

You really hoped he would be there still, weirdly. His dad. Wished for the barrier of another person there.

And your panicked walk-out from earlier was easily explained too. You’d made a mistake and had felt embarrassed.

Normal. Hauling a massive plant across London, maybe not so normal. But fine. With every step you took the plant grew heavier and you grew more uncomfortable. Two nights of barely any sleep really weren’t working in your favour here. But, it was fine.

Walking up, you noticed the moving van was gone.

When you rang his doorbell, you waited to maybe hear Joe’s voice ask who was there, but the door just buzzed and you were let into the building.

You didn’t have to wait for the lift, and you kind of wished that you did. That you’d had a minute to collect yourself.

But no.

Second floor.

And Joe’s door was already open, the flat all quiet. Bin bags filled with what seemed to be just plastic wrapping were placed to the side and all boxes seemed to have made their way into their new respective rooms.

And, then, there was Joe. Stood in his kitchen. On his own. Busy with– something. You couldn’t see what he was doing, since he had his back turned.

He’d obviously heard you come in, but he didn’t turn around. Even after you cleared your throat, he delayed greeting you and made you feel like a fucking idiot.

“Surprise,” you said in a small voice, far more shaky than you wanted it to be. “Got you a house warming gift, and,” you put the plant down and reached for your tote. “And, also, this. This is yours, too.”

Little crispy wave.

You put it down and gestured a nervous hand Joe didn’t even see. It felt stupid and awkward.

It took another moment before Joe turned around.

He didn’t even look at the big plant. Or the little one. Just looked right at you and kept his face all serious.

“Can we talk?”

No.

“Sure.”

And then you just looked at each other a moment. Shared unsaid things with looks, the way you always did, but you remained frustratingly closed off as Joe tried to pry you open.

He copied the way you were standing then.

Crossed his arms over his stomach and then pulled his shoulders up to his ears and kept them there as he made big eyes at you.

Was he making fun?

You shrugged as a response. Nodded a little and pretended to be nonchalant about it. Yea you were closed off. Had Joe forgotten he hadn’t told you he was moving out? That everything about the current situation you found yourselves in was unwanted and uncomfortable because of him?

And, okay, sure. Yea. You had your hand in this way of being with each other too. But you were the way you were inside of your flat, never out.

So you remained distant.

Kept your arms crossed and stayed right where you were, even though what you craved most right in this moment was the exact opposite. But you couldn’t just step closer and hug Joe right now. Couldn’t just be hugged by Joe right now.

“I don’t–... what am I to you?” Joe asked, genuinely curious.

The sun, you thought. The light when everything else was dark. Softness when everything else had sharp edges. The bit of comfort amongst all the excruciating grief. The fix.

Joe was the fix to every single problem you’d ever had since you’d moved into your flat with him all that time ago.

You said none of those things, of course.

Couldn’t.

So you just blinked rapidly, and hoped you wouldn’t actually cry. It didn’t feel like Joe was in a mood to be very comforting right now, so you really tried your hardest to keep a straight face.

“Tell me. What are we?”

You very nearly said flatmate. But your throat grew thick, and you shook your head. Unable to answer. Flatmate was the wrong answer, anyway.

“No?”

More head shaking. Couldn’t say shit. Joe was no longer your flatmate.

“Well, what... what do you want me to do?” Joe sounded kind, but defeated. You were making this unnecessarily difficult, and Joe didn’t have the answers.

So, you tried your hand at one. At an answer.

“To, um...” you had to stop, clear your throat before you continued, “To water that plant at least once a week.”

You deflected just like you’d done earlier that day. When Joe’d laughed and had hugged you and you hadn’t hugged him back because you weren’t alone in your flat and you never hugged outside of your flat, and fuck off, you were such a stupid bitch, you should’ve just hugged him back then.

“Keep it out of direct sunlight–” your voice wobbled as Joe cut you off.

“No, stop it. Don’t, you’re– baby, please.”

Baby.

That shot you right in the chest. Made you drop your head as your face scrunched up and tears fell right to the floor.

Baby.

“What do I do? What do you want?”

Concern flitted across his face, and if Joe thought that this was going to help you get your words out, he was dead wrong. The want to just leave once more was there. You felt it in your legs. In your feet. In the way the corners of your mouth got pulled down by emotion and exhaustion and– you weren’t made for this shit. You wanted out.

But Joe was quick.

Before you could even bring a hand up to your face to hide your pout, Joe was there. Curled arms around your back and tightly squeezed you against his chest so you got to hide your pout in there. Rested his head atop yours and softly shushed you.

You weren’t even really crying, but Joe’s embrace was welcome anyway.

It always was.

“I know you see it. You see it right? Feel it?”

You nodded. You did see it. Did feel it. But that shit was terrifying, and so, no thanks. You could just be blind and void of feelings forever and everything would be fine.

It wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. Obviously.

And Joe was just shoving your face into the fact that it wasn’t and would never be. Needed you to admit to it. Or at least acknowledge it. Something.

“So then talk to me. What do I do? What do you want?”

Your face scrunched up in a mixture of both hurt and anger. You wanted a lot of things. You wanted to crawl inside Joe’s clothes and tell him to shut the fuck up and simultaneously wanted to slowly push him down the stairs the way you’d pushed that plant to its demise earlier that day.

He was an idiot that was trying his best to fix something he’d caused.

He wasn the fix this time.

He was the cause of the hurt.

The second you realised that, you opened your mouth to speak, yet all that came out was a sob.

A pathetic small little sob that shook you by the shoulders more than it made an actual sound.

It made Joe squeeze you tighter as he shushed you more, but the shushing just fueled the anger.

Did he want you to talk to him or not?!

“You’ve never been– you’re not meant to be the cause, you– you’re the cause now.”

You got the words out and felt how the anger was fleeting.

“I know, baby. I know.”

Baby.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be the reason you– you know, hence the... you need to know that I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, I just...”

You loved being able to feel Joe’s voice as he spoke, but the words gave you anxiety.

You never talked, and this was a lot.

You were so fucking tired.

“I’m sorry, I should–...”

Should leave? Get out? Stop this awkward chat because you were crying and it wasn’t slowly ebbing away but was very persistently setting up camp right behind your eyes where you knew it was going to stay put and hurt your throat and it took effort the whole time to not burst into louder sobs and–

“What do you want?”

Joe didn’t let go. Didn’t let that stupid question go either. You still hadn’t answered it yet, and Joe desperately wanted you to.

You had to say it. Had to use your voice, no matter how hoarse and barely-there it was.

Where you hated how small and stupid and weak you sounded, this was the type of stuff Joe fucking lived for.

Did he hate that he knew exactly why you were emotional right now? That he was responsible for the state of you right now?

Yes absolutely.

Guilt ate away at him from the inside out, but look, he was fixing it, and you were outside of the flat, and you’d come back after you’d left in a hurry earlier, and he had already been trying to accept the idea that maybe he wouldn’t see you for a while, you know?

Yet here you were.

All wrapped up in his arms.

All safe.

He couldn’t exactly protect you from himself, but he knew that what was done was necessary and important. He’d just done it wrong.

He’d kiss it better though.

Joe pressed soft kisses into your hair and then whispered, “Hmm? What is it you want?”

And you only really had one answer.

“To sleep.” you murmured, and you weren’t lying. Joe was holding you and he was warm and he smelt nice and you really wanted to go to sleep. “I’m tired.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but, all right. You’d answered his question.

“Mhmm. Go to sleep then. Get some–”

Joe stopped when you shook your head no and stuttered through breathing that grew more erratic as you tried to stiffle your sobbing.

“I can’t, it’s...”

God, it was so stupid.

Saying this shit out loud was so fucking awkward and lame and everything sounded daft and wrong, and not at all like the actual thoughts and feelings you felt inside, and Joe wouldn’t understand what you actually meant.

You couldn’t fucking sleep without Joe there.

Stiffling sobs only built them up until larger ones slipped out.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Joe shushed, pressed his lips into your hair, squeezed you tighter and rocked a little from side to side.

You felt like a fucking child.

It wasn’t okay.

But Joe shushed you, and swayed you, and if you closed your eyes it was kind of like you were both at home where this was totally fine and okay and just how you were.

Joe was making light of something heavy because he was so good at making light of all things heavy.

You had been what you were for so long that now the prospect of no longer being that felt so foreign to you, it only made you duck into Joe’s grasp even more.

Joe wanted to ask the same question again.

Wanted to whisper it into your hair. What do you want, and, what am I to you exactly, because you were no longer flatmates now, and, what did you tell your friend, how did you explain to her what you were together, what words did you use?

He could tell you what he wanted you to say, but that wouldn’t count. It didn’t work like that.

What did it work like, though?

Forcing you to fucking speak?

Making you cry so he could swoop right in and kiss it better like a manipulative twat?

Outside of the flat you shared it only became more clear to Joe that this wasn’t normal, and that a new normal was desperately needed. One where you lived in your own spaces and had a little distance and would then meet up every once in a while and have dates in the outside world like normal people.

Necessary and important.

You stood in Joe’s kitchen for a while.

Joe held you until you stopped shaking and your breathing evened out. He knew for sure you’d stopped crying when he felt one of your hands search for the hem of his T-shirt to sneak under and touch the bare skin of his back.

Had you been at home, this is where he would’ve walked you over to sit down on the sofa.

But there was no sofa to go sit on.

And sure, Joe’s bed had been put together, but it wasn’t made, and there were so many boxes to go through still. Shit to unpack. He had mates coming ‘round later that were going to help with the flatpacks and, did he want to just find his covers and lay down with you for the rest of the day? Yes. Absolutely. But he couldn’t.

Joe let go of you and reached for your sneaking hand. Pulled it from under the fabric and broke his own heart when he watched your face, tear-stained and blotchy, as you came to terms with there being no familiar next steps.

Not this time.

It was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat once more, but you were quick to calm yourself down. Joe got to see from up close how you closed your eyes and took slow deep breaths through your nose.

And then, surprising both him and yourself, you answered Joe’s earlier question.

What do you want?

“I want you to sell this place and come back.”

A bold joke. Not not true, but definitely silly. You knew that was never going to happen, and you opened your eyes only to see Joe trying his hardest to fight a smile off of his face.

“I’m not going to sell this place and come back.” Joe said in his gentlest voice, playing with the hand he was still holding onto. He held it by your index finger and your pinky and just shook it about a bit.

“Imagine if I did,” Joe carefully tried a joke in return, and he thanked the fucking stars when you smiled.

“Tell you what will be going back with you, though.”

Joe let go of your hand and picked up the small asplenium. His crispy wave that he placed in your bedroom that he liked so much he decided to get his own one, for his own flat, so you’d have a matching set, which you then went and broke.

“No, it’s... they’re buddies.”

You pointed at the big kentia palm with a little pout and Joe was about to fucking die at how cute you were being.

“Yea, all right.” Joe said, but still moved to place the small pot back in the tote you left on the side. “They can be buddies. But they’ll just... they’ll live at different flats.”

Joe took your hand and moved the straps of the bag up your arm. Pushed them onto your shoulder with soft care and made sure they laid flat.

“But they’ll miss each other.” you tried, obviously no longer talking about the plants.

Joe smiled.

“They won’t need to. They can still see each other all the time. They can text. Call. Have dinner– have pizza together. Sleep over. Stay the night. They wont have to miss each other.”

And that was that.

You were told to go get some rest. Joe would call you later.

And sure.

You could do that.

Didn’t like it.

But you could do that.

Kind of had no other choice, anyway.

With your little plant in your bag and the promise of seeing each other later, you left his flat, and felt... sort of numb. Still exhausted and somewhat empty, but, you got to keep the plant, so that was one thing.

You still didn’t want to look at all the empty in your flat, so you beelined it straight into your bedroom when you came home. Placed Joe’s plant back in the window and tried to get some rest.

And it really should’ve been so easy.

You were tired. Had had two consecutive nights of barely any sleep and the emotional rollercoaster you’d just experienced left your brain absolutely functionless.

Just, defective. Error 404.

And you’d nearly fallen asleep standing up in Joe’s kitchen forty-five minutes ago as he’d held you, but somehow... it just didn’t work on your own. In your own bed.

But you tried.

You really fucking tried.

You tossed and turned for ages until tears of frustration slipped into your pillow.

Fuck Joe.

Fuck him and his ways of making you feel so cherished. You weren’t feeling very cherished right now, how fucking foul of him. To be around at your disposal for ages, letting things naturally progress, and to then just vanish? Leave you without the ability to sleep in your own bed? Could only get some actual shut-eye in his room?

And, well. A drowning man will clutch at a fucking straw, won’t he?

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

In a wave of fury you slung the covers back and hauled yourself up and out of bed.

If Joe wasn’t going to fucking fix this, you were.

You heard a key slide into your front door just after dragging your heavy mattress over to what used to be Joe’s bedroom and you froze in a panic.

Joe still had his key.

Of course he did.

Shit.

You were stood in the doorway of your bedroom, pillows under your arms and a corner of your duvet in your hand.

The door opened and just like you’d expected, Joe stepped into view, looking all soft with fluffy hair and big eyes and soft skind and– and actually... yea, this was perfect.

Just what you needed, actually.

Joe saw you before he closed the door behind him.

Mess of a girl. Hair everywhere. Bags under her eyes. Clothes twisted around her body. Holding as much of her bedding as she could hold with just two arms.

You slowly blinked at him.

“Hey... what are you...”

Joe was holding a pizza box.

Brought dinner.

It was a bit late for dinner, but he hadn’t been able to stop looking at the texts you’d sent that he never responded to.

“What’s going on?”

You dropped what you were holding and stepped forward. Joe thought you were going for a hug, maybe, but instead, you reached for the pizza box. Took it from him and the put it down onto the floor right next to him.

Didn’t need that.

Just needed Joe.

“Are you all right? Hey. Look at me.”

Without saying anything you then took hold of Joe’s arm and pulled him along. Into his old bedroom. Pushed at his shoulders and made him sit down onto the mattress before you turned and went to get all the bedding you’d dropped.

You didn’t care he had his coat on still. Had his shoes on still.

It took a second for Joe to fully understand what was happening.

What was going on right now.

Why you seemed so fucking out of it and why you didn’t answer any of his questions or his confused looks.

Joe watched as you walked back into the room and stepped onto your mattress, duvet dragging on the floor behind you. He held an arm out, said, “C’mere,” and you didn’t need to be told fucking twice.

Dropped all you were holding once again, but this time, it turned your mattress on the floor into somewhat of an actual bed. Not a made one; it was a whole heap of soft on one side, and then just Joe on the other.

But he said come here, and you only had so much brain capacity left, you know?

You let yourself fall onto your knees and crawled until you found Joe’s lap. You shifted and turned and wiggled yourself onto him and then Joe let himself fall back, legs splayed out on the floor, but enough of him on the mattress for you to curl up on properly.

You laid chest to chest. Soft stomach to soft stomach. Heart to heart. Your head on his shoulder, your nose nudging into the squishy flesh under his chin, and your eyelashes tickled into the scruff on his jaw.

“Yea? Is this better?” Joe whispered and patted a searching hand around until he found the duvet. He pulled it across until you were both covered with it and you hummed on the exhale of a contented sigh.

This was it.

This was what your body had been craving. Was exactly what you needed.

“You comfy, baby?”

Baby.

“Mhmm,”

Joe shifted his hips, and your crotches were also definitely right on top of each other, but it went ignored. Not important right now.

Sleep was important right now.

Warmth, and comfort, and Joe’s velvety soothing voice were important right now.

His heartbeat, and his smell, and his stroking fingers that found the soft warm skin of your back to leave goosebumps on as he trailed fingertips all the way and all the way back down were important right now.

“That’s it, just relax.”

You couldn’t even properly hum anymore, your throat just made a little noise, and when Joe felt you sink into him even deeper, his chest hurt with unexpressed affection.

You were falling asleep.

The light in the hallway was still on, his bedroom door wide open, shoes and coat still on, but you were falling asleep on top of him and God, if that didn’t make him question every single choice he’d made over the past few months.

He dipped his chin a little and planted a little kiss on wherever it landed. Side of your nose, Joe thought.

You accepted it and nudged him back into place and Joe had to squeeze his eyes shut at how fucking adorable that was.

He was going to tell you in the morning.

Promised himself he would.

He wanted exactly this, the way you were inside the flat, but, have that elsewhere.

Not just here.

Have that outside.

In his new flat.

In front of other people.

“Hey,” Joe whispered, but he got no response. The only noise that filled the room was your shared breathing, and, good, Joe thought. Sleep.

He was going to say the words anyway.

“It won’t always be like this.”

You heard them.

And Joe was right.

But you were immediately aware of how fucking cruel that sounded. Because, obviously, it wasn’t always going to be like this. Joe wasn’t always going to be showing up at your front door with a box of pizza and a bunch of time on his hands. He wasn’t going to be around for ever. Let himself be pushed onto a mattress so you could sleep on top of him. Life would eventually run away with him.

You’d only been flatmates once, and the probability that any of what that meant remained was astronomically small.

Joe’d had flatmates before he no longer spoke to. So did you.

Of course, you knew it wouldn’t always be like this.

But, it also wouldn’t always be like this.

There would be other guys, other men, that would try to provide you with the same idea of comfort and safety and it wouldn’t be the same, but it’d be just as nice. Just different.

There’d likely be new flatmates, different people to share living space with, new people to share pizza with, and it wouldn’t be like this.

Not as nice.

Not as effortless and fucking easy as it was with Joe.

Where everything meant nothing and something at the same time.

It wouldn’t be like this.

“I know.”

You surprised Joe with your barely there whisper, and it startled him enough for you to feel it in his body. To cover it up, he quickly wrapped tight arms around you in response.

He’d tell you in the morning.

He’d tell you he wanted to hold hands as you walked from your flat to his and back.

He’d tell you he wanted to be able to curl up on the sofa together the way you always did in front of his friends. In front of yours.

He’d tell you that the safe space of your flat could be extended and, as long as you and Joe were together, it didn’t matter where you were; he could be the safe space.

Moving out was the first step to the expanding of the comfort zone.

Tomorrow, it was time for the second step.

Joe vowed that this promise wouldn’t vanish with the sunrise, the way that promises made late at night always were so wont to do.

Swore that it would be the first this he’d do when he’d wake.

I’ll start on Monday.

I’ll wake up early, do it in the morning.

Thing’s will be different when the sun rises.

They never were.

Not really.

But he’d tell you. And he’d see if you were willing to listen. the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us

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bobluvbot · 21 days

Text

birthday blues

pairing: sirius black x f!reader summary: first time godfather sirius goes shopping to find the perfect first birthday gift (jily + baby harry ♥️) wc: 5k a/n: me tryna heal canon trauma ❤️ because in my world everyone lives happily ever after !!! my lil celebration piece for hitting 200 followers! thank u all <3 not proofread, english is not my first language so plz be nice heheh

“What’s the store called again, sweets?”

even as a young kid, one of your biggest pet peeves is repeating yourself for more than four times. three is pushing it. your parents told you its a bad habit to take to adulthood because you’re bound to meet people who just don’t get what you’re saying the first or second time around. But one Wednesday morning, when you asked from upstairs where your favorite periwinkle socks were and your parents downstairs said something that the loud dishwasher and vacuum covered up, you asked them to repeat it again (still can’t hear), and again when you moved closer to the staircase down (barely heard any), then you heard your father’s heavy footsteps up, personally shoving in your waiting hand the said pair of socks.. only damp. “Honey, I said three times already, that they were still in the dryer,” your dad had huffed before heading back downstairs. That’s when you knew it was genetic.

But, you love Sirius Black. It’s gotten to the point where in the honest, sensitive hours past midnight, while there was nothing much to do as you let sleep creep up from your tired limbs to your fluttering eyelids, but to watch peace settle on the raven-haired boy’s sharp features, ethereal and glowing like an angel even in the dark of the night; that you realize he may be the love of your life. It’s a scary thought, with fears of being too eager, too soon, too much—- so you tuck it in a little pocket and give it a nudge when you need a reminder of how big and true its growing with each second spent together.

You love him, so you breathe out the snarky irritation away in slow heavy puffs and inhale peace, choosing to exercise patience because you know Sirius is nervous.

“It’s Spintwitches Sporting Needs, love. ‘s right across Ollivanders if I’m not mistaken,” you say, taking his free hand in yours and rubbing small circles on his knuckles to calm some of his nerves down, while he drives through busy muggle London streets to park by the Leaky Cauldron. He throws you a soft smile and gives your hand a quick squeeze as thanks, grateful to the heavens that you’re here to keep him from going insane.

You know him enough that, while the day in question is not about him, or you, or your relationship, it meant a great deal to Sirius.

He had one chance (even if you’d argue otherwise) to make things right, do things the right way the first time around with Harry. James knew this fact by heart, which is why he and Lily agreed in a heartbeat that Sirius should be little Harry’s godfather, as it was meant to be. He would do anything, go beyond means, hell, even against Merlin himself just to ensure the safety and happiness of his godson.

No one, however, was expecting it to backfire and it caught you and Sirius off guard. Once the tears dried and elation diffused, the anxiety kicked in for Sirius, and in turn you. He knew what the opposite was, parents who robbed their own sons of happy childhoods and disowned him when he got brave enough to find happiness and protect it, he had lived it. And now that he has a chance to save an innocent soul from a similar fate, he was determined, but this fact scared him shitless.

He wanted everything to be perfect (who wouldn’t?) and gave everything he physically could to make James and Lily’s Harry’s life easy and happy. Seeing Sirius buy ‘How to Dad?’ books and pour over them at night or on his free time at work was undoubtedly an attractive and loving sight. In a span of a week, he knew which is the best formula to supplement with breastfeeding, toys to pick that stimulate early brain development, even clothes made with hypoallergenic materials that won’t irritate the sensitive newborn skin. It came to a point where James would ask him for advice when Lily’s at work, and Sirius would put on his trusty reading glasses and point at a specific passage of ‘How to Dad?’ that answers James’ question perfectly.

Eventually, you did have to put your foot down when you found Sirius writing a howler to a baby food company when rumors started going around that their baby snack puffs (which Harry was obsessed with) had harmful chemicals in it. In typical Sirius fashion, he wasn’t convinced that easily. You’d bet that what pushed him off the howler letter route (and in turn protect the statute of wizarding secrecy) was seeing you spend lots of time in the kitchen to perfect making banana and strawberry baby snack puffs from scratch until the recall was over and the food was deemed safe to be consumed again by experts and Sirius himself.

Hearing many iterations of how the newborn days and months go by so fast was difficult to believe at times, especially when you and Sirius were babysitting to let the exhausted parents get some sort of reprieve multiple times a month. It was almost always the same. Harry would sleep for four hours straight during the night, and almost hourly right after; and while you and sirius had gotten pretty good at dividing up the tasks like bottle feeding and nappy changes equally, the shrill cry of a hungry baby is difficult to ignore and sleep through.

So despite of Sirius’s best efforts to crawl out of bed and tip-toe to the bassinet quietly not to wake your sleeping form, he gets sad but unsurprised to see you pad towards him and the baby, yawning soundlessly as you squeeze yourself between the soft armrest and Sirius’s side, head resting on his shoulder. It was his idea to get a spacious, soft recliner in the bedroom and it came in handy for situations like these, where getting back to bed once Harry sleeps is too risky as the boy would just wake up with the slightest movement, so the next best option was to try getting rest wherever you ended up in. The cries that once overpowered Sirius’s hushed whispers and cooing finally quiets down. A sigh of relief leaves both your lips, basking in the comfortable silence and bodies finding solace in each other’s warmth.

You want to say so many things to your lovely boyfriend, things he just has to hear: that he’s doing such a great job, that you see him and all the extra steps he has to take to become and do better than what he was raised for, that you love him for every single bit of it— but the right words don’t come easy when sleep-deprived and exhausted at 4:25am in the morning. So you lift your lips up to meet his temple, the side of his mouth, then his lips; hoping it’d convey what words couldn’t at the moment.

But time is an experienced thief. It was a Saturday afternoon in the middle of May and it was warm enough for you to whip out the frilly spring dresses that had been pushed to the back of your closet by the thick woolen coats from colder months. The boys had gone on a day trip to help Peter move into his first solo apartment, assembling furniture and stocking up on necessities to ensure he could survive on his own. Without the booming voices and bumbling energy of his father and godfather, little Harry had no choice but to match the calm and peaceful ambiance that you and Lily curated inside the Potter house. While it’s certainly different from what his everyday looks like (living with the likes of James), he seems to enjoy it. Gentle breeze from the windows Lily left open while she baked carry the smell of lemons and vanilla throughout the entire house, making it smell heavenly. You’d been sat on the floor by the dining table, surrounded by toy trains and colorful blocks, watching the ten-month-old munch on a toy graphorn adoringly. Recently, he’s been on a phase where he has to run anything he could get his hands on with his mouth. Some secret test or screening must be up there or something because that’s how Harry decides which toys are deserving of his attention for the day.

You’d picked up a toy set of magical creatures after work yesterday, and it won the almost toddler’s attention for the whole day. James had to snatch the toy niffler away from Harry’s grasp so he could say goodbye to his son and ask for a kiss. Safe to say there were no kisses exchanged because the little boy was too busy wailing and screaming at his father’s face. Lily had to create physical distance between her two boys so the younger one can calm down while the older got mopey. Sirius had to whisk his best friend away from the scene of the crime so that they can get on with the day, but not without leaving you a kiss.

The said niffler had soon been replaced with the hippogriff, then now the graphorn, and it’s been sitting on your lap since. Harry suddenly pulls the toy graphorn out of his mouth with a resounding pop. You both share a second or two of shocked eye contact and silence, his bright green eyes wide with surprise, before triggering a belly flipping laughing fit. This child could shock himself with a sudden burp or an unexpected sound of hitting random things with a fork, and you’d laugh every single time like its the funniest cutest thing you’ve seen in your life. It’s likewise for the rest of the marauders. Being the first baby of the group had all the adults wrapped in his pudgy fingers and he has no idea.

Harry’s eyes drop from your smiling face to the Niffler on your lap, and makes grabby hands. You almost, almost give in, but you decide to encourage him to go get it himself. Maybe today’s the day he starts to walk. You move to him a bit closer, probably a good seven baby steps in between.

“You want the Niffler, bud? You have to go get it from me!” You make a show out of grabbing the toy from your lap multiple times, hoping it’d make sense to the little boy.

He whines something sounding like your name and does more impatient grabby hands. But you weren’t giving up without a fight. “C’mon, Haz! You can do it,” you say enthusiastically.

Harry did know how to stand and good thing you were both sat near the dining table chairs, so to alleviate some of your aunt guilt you tuck the niffler away and out of Harry’s reach, before helping him up to his feet and urging him to grab one of the chair legs for support.

He stays upright, eyes still on the toy that you place again on your lap as you return to your original spot, and you clap with glee. “Great job, buddy! Okay, only a few steps to me and you’ll get the toy!”

Lily, curious to see the commotion happening on her kitchen floor, leans against the counter for a better view. Harry sees this and does the same thing, he looks at her pleadingly while making grabby hands and pointing to the niffler on your lap. You can tell the redhead’s fighting the mom urge to make her child’s life easier, but thank the heavens when she gives your same answer. She even moves to kneel beside you, waving to get her son’s attention and pointing at the niffler on your lap.

“C’mon, my sweet boy,” Lily says. “Mama knows you can do it!”

Motivated by frustration as his aunt and own mother won’t just hand him his goddamn toy, Harry whines angrily but makes a sideways step closer, death grip still on one of the chair legs. You and Lily squeal and clap in delight, urging the boy to do it again.

He makes a move for another step, but realizes that there’s no more legs to grab onto. Reluctantly, his right hand lets go and in turn faces you and Lily. This results in another round of applause, which serves like a drug to these little babies.

An anxious expression fleetingly appears on his face as he looks to you both, but the encouragement and cooing seemed to scare those big feelings away. Determined, Harry makes an unsure step forward without support, which then makes both yours and Lily’s heartbeat jump. It all happened so quick, the fear of losing balance triggered Harry’s other leg catch him on impulse, then the same on the other leg, then the other. Harry’d made four successful steps on his own before his mom catches him in her embrace before he topples over to the floor.

You and Lily were a sobbing, exultant mess. Harry, clearly confused about the commotion, whines for the niffler while Lily kisses him all over his face. You hand it to his waiting palms like a trophy before ruffling his unruly hair. An attempt for words has been made, but all that came from your mouth are garbled phrases about the miracle that just happened. Lily nods in agreement and you hug them both back.

This ten-month old just walked. This is the same baby that kept you and Sirius up at night for his feedings. The same baby responsible for the drool and spit up marks on your shirts. The same baby that laughs and babbles with you like he understands when you tell him random stories. The same baby that squeals in delight when you blow raspberries on his belly.

It felt like he had just been born a few days ago, memories of changing hundreds of nappies and preparing bottles of milk still vivid in your mind. But it’s earth shattering to consider that he’s closer to being a one year old than to the little bundle handed to you by James in the hospital room.

Time is unrelenting, stealing mundane moments behind your back and when you realize the loss, poof! The newborn you held in your arms is now a walking toddler. Soon, he’ll be the one talking your ears off, going to Hogwarts, driving a car.. You shiver at the thought. He was growing up so fast that blinking felt like cheating, afraid that you’ll miss a precious moment that you’ll never get back.

His first birthday came in the same manner— too fast for both yours and Sirius’s liking, but the wistful feelings came with excitement as Harry being a toddler opened up lots more opportunities to play and discover the world around him. James and Lily had spent the whole month planning a big birthday bash to celebrate the kiddo’s life, inviting all their loved ones to share the special day with them. And with that, the pressure was on for Sirius, as the self-proclaimed best godfather to get the perfect first birthday gift.

It’s like the heavens knew it was a special day for you both that it made sure to put out the best shopping weather one could ever ask for—- not too warm or too cold. It was a Tuesday afternoon, which meant the adults were kept in workplaces and children sent to Hogwarts or in homeschooling, leaving Diagon Alley nearly deserted, minus the occasional stray shoppers entering and leaving shops here and there. Clad in color coordinated couples outfits (that was your thing recently, Sirius more than happy to oblige) and hand in hand, you begin the mission to locate Spintwitches Sporting Needs.

Nostalgia always finds a way to seep into your bones whenever you find yourself in Diagon Alley. One blink and suddenly you’re ten again, both hands tucked in each parent’s as your mom pours over the list of school supplies you’ll need again for your first year at Hogwarts. You and Sirius see Ollivanders at a short distance and hear the entrance bell chime, the very same sound you heard when entering the shop for the first time, the shopkeeper taking one good look at you before immediately rummaging around the store, grabbing a specific box located on a random shelf four stories up. The look of confidence when he says it’s made just for you, a magical glow enveloping your tiny frame while opening the magenta box. That same magic guided you to a world where you truly belonged in, a castle that felt so much like home, and friends that soon became found family and lifelong partners. The thought of Harry soon experiencing these moments leaves a giddy feeling in your chest.

The smoky sweet scent of freshly roasted chestnuts catches your attention and you discreetly look for the source of your favorite warm snack. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sirius (hardly nothing ever does, even the things you wish he’d miss or forget), and he gives your hand a small tug. You try to be aloof as you return his waiting gaze, complete with a quirk of your eyebrow, to which he responds with an impish smirk towards your bad acting.

“You’re not fooling anyone with that look, sweets.” The amusement in his voice is palpable as he steers you away from the main walkway and towards the small chestnut stall tucked in an alleyway, almost hidden by the bigger shops surrounding it.

“But, the store’s right there, Siri,” you try to protest. He had been anxious and stressed out about this day in particular, you knew if you were in his shoes, you’d be beelining to the store as soon as you get off the car. But he just shakes his head like its the obvious choice and nods towards the cart. “Can’t have my girl hungry now.”

After a failed attempt of trying to pay for the warm brown bag (you were no match for Sirius’s lithe, agile fingers in basically everything), you accept it with a sigh, giving yourself a few seconds to sulk before starting on the chestnuts. You weren’t the best at accepting things from other people just because, it always felt like you had to do something in return for them just to deserve it. Maybe that’s why the universe conspired to have you meet and fall for Sirius, who is a very enthusiastic giver, teaching you hard lessons on the daily.

As you begin the journey back to the shop, you carefully crack open one and hold it up to Sirius’s mouth, to which he happily obliged. “Mm, somehow chestnuts taste better when you handfeed me, dove. Do it again.”

You roll your eyes in response, but you find your fingers starting to peel another. “You’re lucky you’re good looking, Black,” you mutter to save some face, that you weren’t head over heels for this man and he to you. That’s a conversation to be had in another, less stressful day.

The shop, painted electric blue and orange, wasn’t hard to miss. One step in and the welcoming aroma of broom polish, rubber, and smoky wood brings you right back to the Quidditch locker rooms; memories of frantically lacing up your boots a minute or two after James called you as backup for an injured beater, helping Marlene comb out the tail end to fix the broom alignment after practice, and getting pinned to the cool lockers during post-win celebratory makeout sessions with Sirius, replaying vividly in your head.

It looked deceivingly small on the outside; aside from the expansive selection of different broomstick models, they had books and magazines about Quidditch strategies and featured famous matches, repair and maintenance kits for maintaining broomstick qualities, complete Quidditch gear for all shapes and sizes, and tiny practice snitches flying around the room. Squint and it’ll just be like how each Hogwarts common room would be decorated when there’s a big Quidditch match between houses or international ones in the world cup: streamers and accessories like horns and banners representing each team, posters of Chudley Cannons and Holyhead Harpies (in opposing corners to prevent unsolicited fights) accompanied by autographs of famous players and collectibles littering almost every surface of the walls. It was Quidditch dreamland.

Still in awe admiring the displays as you both walk through aisles hand in hand, Sirius breaks the silence first. “What do you think Harry will play as in Quidditch?”

You hum in response and he continues, running his hands through the bat display they had for little kids. “I bet he’d be a beater like me. You remember how that punk hit me straight on the face last week?”

You nod in amusement. Sirius had played it cool as he gently laid Harry back in his playpen, still laughing and cooing, then as soon as little Harry turned his back on his uncle, Sirius ran to you for first aid and whined the whole time you were healing the already forming bruise. But not a few hours later, he’s bouncing the baby in his arms again as he gave him a tour of the backyard.

“Yeah, those little fists definitely pack a punch.”

“How about you, love?”

Sifting through a year’s worth of memories, it was surprisingly easy to find your answer. “I think he’ll follow James’s footsteps and be a seeker.”

Sirius’s pout becomes evident, making you giggle and tug on his arm in efforts to cheer him up. “Think about it. Ever since prongslet got those glasses, it’s harder to hide anything from him now because his eyes are so quick. Poor Crookshanks too, that cat can’t catch a break now when Haz wants to play because he tracks its movements.”

Sirius lets out a soft chuckle and slings his arm around your shoulders to hold you closer. “Good point, good point,” he repeats, seemingly deep in thought as his fingers run up and down the small of your arm. “We shall see, whatever he decides to play as, or if he even plays at all, I’ll be proud of him.”

You look up to him as he absentmindedly stares at the Quidditch gear sets for little kids, a light, wistful smile on his handsome features. He might not say it out loud, but the love he has for his godson reverberates through his being, and its a warming sight to see.

Before you confess your love for your boyfriend in the middle of a Quidditch store, you whisk him away and towards the toy broom display, the only thing you were both here for. Only the big bright signs directed you to the right place, which didn’t prepare you at all for the heart exploding sight.

You’re about to burst into tears seeing how cute and tiny the little toy brooms were, and how they came in complete with tiny versions of the headlights, seats, and bag compartments the usual adult broom comes with. Both you and Sirius stood with mouths agape for a solid minute as you took in the expansive display, before your lovely boyfriend proceeds to pick out the most expensive one with the most features on it from the batch.

Surprisingly, it was you who reminded him to grab a helmet before running off to purchase the toy broom, the giddiness and excitement spreading between the two of you. The cashier gives both of you a knowing look as you and Sirius both mellowed down from full giggles to bashful smiles, examines the broom to be purchased, and asks, “For your little one?”

Now, you were no stranger to conversations like these with former lovers in the past, and you could almost hear the typical response of denial that comes swiftly with the question. It used to hurt, even if you knew by heart that that person didn’t have the fifth date potential or that it just wouldn’t last. It’s that unexplainable feeling of shame and rejection when they’d realize that it won’t work with you before you would, or if they answer with a laugh, as if having a future with you is an appalling thought. You’ve gotten better with it throughout the years, but for some reason your skin crawls with the thought of Sirius saying the same things. Years of desensitization down the drain, you find yourself bearing your entire soul to the man beside you the entire relationship, and he can easily break you into two with his response. You cross your fingers that he won’t.

He was already looking when your gaze met his, a look of softness and tenderness from him so profound you wondered if you were deserving of it. The surge of butterflies in your belly was all consuming.

Sirius shifts uneasily and shakes his head, you prepare for the worst. “For our nephew, not for our own child..,” he pauses, glancing back at you for a quick second. “Yet. But if all goes according to my sneaky plan, we might be back sooner than she thinks.”

The cashier chuckles at your stunned reaction as you shift your focus between him and your boyfriend who was both furiously blushing and actively avoiding your stare. Did you just get a marriage proposal?

Taking advantage of your confusion, Sirius pays for everything including the gift wrapping, which you had previously argued about who was responsible paying (you won, not that that matters now). You let him tug your arm and guide you out of the store, saying a quick thank you to the amused cashier. The influx of butterflies were back, tickling your insides and spreading warmth in each crevice. Just seeing Sirius handle the rambunctious mini James with care and glee, makes it so easy for you to imagine a life with him, and eventually have a little bean that’s equal parts of you and him. You hope they’d get the best parts of both.

No one brings it up as you began your journey back to the car and you’re grateful. Gift bag swinging on your arm, you drag Sirius to go get ice cream to which he happily obliges.

A gentle quiet settles on accomplished shoulders like a warm blanket as you settle in the car. Strawberry and vanilla fudge ice cream sticky sweet on each other’s lips as you exchange cones every once in a while. It would be enough to lull you to sleep, if not for Sirius’s deep breaths and sighs, the thundering of his heart that he tries to quell by discreetly scratching a small part of the steering wheel where his thumb usually lay.

He breaks the silence first, an uneasy tone making his voice seem small. “Do you think he’ll like it, dove?”

“Yes, Siri. I know he’ll love it.” You try your best to enunciate the right words, but a conflicted expression marrs his handsome features, sending a twinge to your heart.

It comes to you before he speaks. This was something that had been plaguing Sirius’s mind for a while, occupying his dreams and thoughts, embedding itself to his mind and causing unwarranted amounts of stress. You resist the urge to fill in the blanks for him because it has to come from him and him only.

But after everything he’s been through, what seems easy for most sometimes is the hardest to muster. “Siri,” you pause, waiting until he looks up at you and you keep his gaze. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

His gray orbs still before the dam breaks. “I’m sorry, love.” He chokes. “If I’m being so difficult, irky, irritated, anxious, everything.”

Hot tears run down his cheeks and it’s a painful watch. wanting nothing but to wipe it off and tuck him in your embrace and promise him he won’t be hurt as long as you’re there, but you can’t. The best thing you could do for him is to let it all out and finally feel.

He stares ahead on the city road with fingers trembling on the wheel. “I’m just so scared. So scared. James and Lily have been amazing parents, I can’t say same thing for myself but I try my best. Sometimes I still feel like he deserves someone better to be his godfather,” he sobs. “I just love him so much. I want only the best for him. I just want him to be happy and healthy all the time.”

After a while, you say with a bittersweet tone. “You know we can’t promise that, Siri,” you sigh. “Storms will come and will do damage and hurt and things that we can’t undo,” you pause, sniffling as you take your right hand to guide him to face you again, vulnerable gray eyes meeting yours. “But you know what?”

You give him an assuring smile, speaking the truth. “He’s gonna be alright because little as he is right now, he is so loved and adored by so many people, so loved by his parents. And so loved by his godfather.”

It wasn’t said aloud, it doesn’t need to. Loud as it could be, Sirius knows what you’re about to say; that his ability to love despite of everything he’s been through, despite of his own family ruthlessly trying to rob him of the ability to do so. That’s the type of love that Sirius gives, a love that withstands rain and abandonment; a love that stays after a rough storm, offering a home always open to go to when times are rough and feelings are still hurt; a love that tells the truth even when its hardest to hear.

You know all this as an easy fact because you’re at the receiving end. Even if you hadn’t heard it from his lips yet.

“Have I told you I love you?”

A watery smile spreads on your face as you shake your head. “No, but i feel it everyday.”

“I love you, Y/N.” It leaves his lips like breaths, naturally and easily.

It’s the same thing for you, too. “I love you too, Siri.”

And it ends with sticky kisses that taste of vanilla fudge and berries.

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wordsinhaled · 7 months

Text

we know crowley’s spent centuries listening to aziraphale talk about his language lessons, we know how supportive and wonderful he was about aziraphale’s magic hobby he was originally before it all went south

i want to see the reverse over the years!

imagining all the time crowley has rambled at aziraphale at length, and aziraphale just listening to his enthusiasm and becoming utterly smitten

angel crowley before the fall teaching aziraphale all about physics, gravity and pressure and matter, practically bouncing with excitement as he shows him new star systems being born and aziraphale telling him he’s done brilliantly. marveling at the beautiful acts of creation that crowley brings forth (and also at crowley but shhh that’s aziraphale’s secret for now)

crowley and aziraphale on earth and the first time aziraphale realized crowley was really interested plants. what if aziraphale brought him his first houseplant? as a housewarming gift for his flat in london, and crowley still has it (through painstaking care and just a bit of occult intervention…)

imagining aziraphale tagging along with crowley to plant shops, helping him carry bags of potting soil to the bentley, browsing with him along aisles of plants. “this one looks lovely, darling.” “oh, no, angel, that one’s sick, see? the brown bits on the leaves, there. leaf rot.” “well, you can make it better, can’t you?” (and aziraphale beams at crowley, and crowley gets the sick plant, of course, and rehabilitates it, and later aziraphale recognizes it and smiles)

aziraphale listens fondly to crowley talk about stars - crowley doesn’t even need to be tipsy to go on long winding enthused tangents about them. aziraphale goes over to crowley’s flat to watch carl sagan’s cosmos with him on crowley’s big flatscreen TV, and is so excited for him whenever the james webb telescope puts out new images

i like to think aziraphale gave crowley some of his guidebooks on the stars and that he has a special section of the bookshop full of antique and vintage stargazers’ atlases and literature on the science of the universe. and maybe if crowley’s the one who plans their lunch dates then aziraphale’s the one who miracles them the best seats in the house at the planetarium and spends the whole time watching crowley gaze with wonder at the stars he created

i want to see crowley introducing aziraphale to his favorite romcoms (once they’re happily living in the south downs of course) and aziraphale dutifully reenacting all the sappiest things crowley loves best. kisses in the rain and picnics by the sea and baking croissants together at midnight on a whim - all because it makes crowley happy

just aziraphale being absolutely as gone on crowley as crowley is on him if not more, and showing it over and over for the rest of time 💛💛💛

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #they 💛💛💛💛

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finelinevogue · 1 year

Text

Finelinevogue Masterlist ‘23

get lost in a world where harry styles is the main character in your life.

navigation

Harry Styles:

Fics

Fluff

the midnight game show -

you and harry partake in the midnight gameshow with michael mcintyre

birthday boy -

harry’s birthday party ends up with cake frosting in his hair and your eyes

tears of love -

a whole bunch of tears and a whole bunch of love for the album of the year grammy winner

in this world, it’s just us -

you and harry attend the Brits, drink a little and love each other a lot

valentines day gift -

you purchase a gift for harry like never before

take a break -

you and harry arrive at your nyc hotel for a little getaway

he’s just harry -

a couple of fan interactions with harry on the streets of london

when in rome -

just a few random clips from a holiday to rome

i love you more than dino nuggets -

the night before the final show

love in photos -

a sum up of love on tour in a few instagram posts

ring shopping -

a tiny blurb about engagement ring shopping

spread the love -

harry’s fans LOVE you

firsts -

it’s your first date out with harry

a montage of love -

a fan has put together a small video of some of your best moments together

the eras -

harry is the best boyfriend ever and not just because he has taylor swifts number

Angst

first kiss of the year -

a new year’s eve kiss, with a few tears and tipsy friends

jealous wife -

you can’t help feel jealous when people stare at harry for looking so good

you are the love of my life -

you go to harry’s listening party and are reminded how he is the love of your life

family will get you through -

you go through a life changing operation but you have a strong family to get you through it

parisian love -

you are a little self conscious of your feelings in the city of love

paparazzi nerves -

you get nervous around the paps

lost n found -

you are lost in italy the night before your wedding

life goes on -

just a tiny blurb of post tour engagement talk

love her stupid -

you are jealous of harry’s new bandmate, when you really don’t need to be

kisses on tour -

harry always chooses a fan to kiss at the end of his concert shows and you attend his next tour date

labitule -

you have an obsession with harry’s hoodie collection

starry eyes -

harry’s the captain of the ice-hockey team and there’s a house party to celebrate their win

interesting enough? -

you spy an attractive man at the bar, but you’re too shy to say hello

the best thing -

you hate harry after that one night together, but when you need someone the most he will always be there

Series

love island universe

harry’s house

UNIverse

love on tour blurbs

christmas fic

Other

instagram concepts

fic rec 2023

fic rec masterlist

masterlist ‘21

masterlist ‘22

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #fic rec harry styles #masterlist harry styles #masterlist finelinevogue #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

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reminiscingtonight · 3 months

Note

Posh + car + surprise with Lessi

Birthday Girl (Alessia Russo x Reader)

[WOSO Masterlist]

It’s surprisingly easy to pull it off.

All it takes is bribing Ella to take your girlfriend out for the morning. Alessia doesn’t ask any questions, happy to spend the day off shopping with her best friend. Ever since her move to London, whenever Alessia gets to hang out with Ella it’s like she has her blinders on, nothing really matters outside of their little bubble.

You’d feel offended but it’s perfect for what you have planned.

When they finally return late in the afternoon, shopping bags adorning both of their arms, they open the door to streamers, balloons, and friends jumping out from all nooks and crannies.

Alessia nearly takes out Ella when she leaps backwards in fright, but a smile is quick to rise to her face as she starts making her rounds, greeting everyone who made the trip over to celebrate her birthday.

Everyone’s spread out around the living room when presents are finally passed out. The sun’s long set, everyone basking in the happy vibes and booze.

You wait until Alessia’s opened everyone’s gifts before dropping your box into her lap. The girls are instantly oohing and aahing, never ones to miss out on an opportunity to tease you and your girlfriend.

“Save the sexy gifts until after we’ve all left!” Leah looks pleased at her joke, but you just roll your eyes at her.

Alessia gives you a questioning look but you just gesture to the gift.

Everyone’s on the edge of their seats as Alessia neatly peels the tape off. She looks excited right up until she manages to open the packaging.

“What… what is this?” Alessia’s frowning, eyebrows drawn together as she inspects the figurine between her fingers.

“Why does that kind of look like--” Laura cuts off when Kyra sends a particularly hard elbow into her gut. She comes back with a slap, something Kyra’s all the more happy to return. The two of them devolve into a shoving match, something that has Steph and Viv rushing to separate the two of them.

Though Kyra stops Laura from saying the obvious, there’s no one there to stop Emily from finishing the Austrian’s sentence. She leans in closer to get a better look at what’s in Alessia’s hands. “Is that your car?”

“Oh my god, it is!” Katie hollers, doubling over in laughter when she realizes what Alessia’s holding.

Alessia’s confused expression deepens, the blonde turning the tiny car toy in her hand. “Babe?” She looks up at you, hoping for some sort of explanation.

“Well you’re so obsessed with your ‘baby,’ so I thought you’d like a hotwheel of it so you can bring it everywhere with you.”

There’s a moment of silence.

Everyone’s looking between you and Alessia, the silent stand off you’re having emitting a strange tension throughout the room.

All it takes is a singular snort courtesy of Kyra before all hell breaks loose.

Some people start laughing, others try, but fail, to hide their smirks. Everyone’s eager to get a piece of the birthday girl. The birthday girl who’s steadily turning redder with all the attention directed her way.

“Really?! All this because I said you couldn’t drive her?” Alessia whines, toy still clutched firmly in her hand.

“Her? Your car is gendered?” Beth cuts in.

“She has a name,” you scoff, clearly not over being denied access to driving your girlfriend’s car. “It’s--”

“Don’t!” Alessia lunges towards you, slapping a hand over your mouth to stop anything from coming out.

You tussle about, trying to free yourself from your insanely strong girlfriend. No one lifts a finger to help, more than happy to let the two of you work things out yourselves.

“Like I said, save the sexy times until after we’ve all left!”

You muster up enough strength to yank Alessia’s hand off of your face, glaring menacingly at your captain. “Oh shut it. Ms. Posh only modeled her car snobbiness after you.”

Leah sputters, eyebrow raising dangerously.

A familiar hand slaps itself over your mouth again before you can say anything else. Like insult your captain some more. Or reveal her car’s name.

“Okay, birthday party over. Bye everyone! Thanks for coming!”

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes #3wp

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smallgodseries · 4 months

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She began with a mondegreen. This is not a unique origin among the small gods, although she is perhaps uniquely proud of it, as had the mishearing occurred under other circumstances, it might have turned out far less well for everyone involved.

“The boy thought that ‘is parents were telling ‘im as ‘is good old auntie would be coming on Christmas eve to leave presents for the good children,” she chortles, whenever given the opportunity and opening to do so. (Her accent, too, is an artifact of the circumstances of her creation: the babysitter who first gave her voice had been deeply enamored of British television at the time, and had done her “very best” London accent for the friendliest bear she could imagine. It wasn’t very good, but the god is stuck with it, at least for now.)

“Didn’t want the boy to be afraid, did she? And so she spun—”

Spun the best story of her life, worth well more than the fifteen dollars an hour she was getting paid. (Fifteen dollars and not even snacks, since his parents kept a close watch on the cupboards and had once docked her the price of a pack of Oreos. Full price, even, when she knew full well they shopped the sales!) Spun the tale of a warm and loving anthropomorphic polar bear whose only wish was that all the children of the world be safe and warm and fed and happy. Who brought gifts for all those children, although she went first to the good ones, to reward them for all the opportunities for mischief and merriment they had allowed to pass them by. That babysitter, long may she be remembered, didn’t believe in punishing children for having childhoods.

It is said by some gods that everyone has one true story in them, and somehow, on that hungry December night, the babysitter found hers. A story so real, so true, that it became enough to call a god into being, small, yes, and specialized, but true, all the same.

So children, latch your windows loosely, and perhaps on the coldest morning of winter, you’ll wake to find claw marks on the windowsill and a polar fleece jacket folded at the foot of the bed. Or perhaps you’ll have asked a bear into your room, and you’ll be eaten in the night.

It’s hard to say, with gods.

#small gods #lee moyer #seanan mcguire #smallgodseries #icons and stories

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magics-neptunes-things · 2 months

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Surprise

Hi guys ��

Sorry to be a little slower to post those days, I have some change in my personnal life and I need time to adjust, I think.

I still have some request for McFoord, like here, here, and here. And the prompt come from here .

Thank you!

TW : Homesickness I guess, past Ruesha-Katie mentionned

Despite the international break, Caitlin finds herself stuck in London due to a very slight thigh muscle injury. Since these are only friendly matches, the Australian staff decided not to take any risks with the player and leave her at home in London. Caitlin genuinely hesitated to accompany her teammates to Australia to have time with her mother, her sister and her sister-in-law for a few days. But the break falling during Katie’s birthday, the Australian finally decided to stay in London to at least make a FaceTime in the rules of the art with her girlfriend.

Despite the distance, Caitlin has arranged things with a restaurant near the hotel where the Ireland team is, to be able to have a dinner face to face with FaceTime. And she also gave the gift she plans to offer to Katie to Grace, whom she has come to know well since dating Katie. And that Caitlin appreciates a lot.

It’s been three days since Katie and most of their friends left London. And Caitlin’s already a little bored, taking care of Katie’s cat to pass the time. Coopurr had time to get used to the presence of the Australian at her side before, but Caitlin sometimes feels that he misses the presence of the Irish woman too.

The typical September London rain waters London when Caitlin goes home to Katie's after going shopping for her and the cat.

"Bloody hell" Caitlin yells, getting rid of her wet jacket.

Sometimes she really misses Australia.

Taking off her shoes and socks, also wet, the young woman puts on Katie’s slippers to go drop her things in the kitchen. When she puts the last package in the cupboards, her phone starts ringing. Taking a brief glance in the direction of the clock, a smile appears on her face, knowing that it's most certainly Katie.

But her smile turns into a worried look when she sees Grace’s name appear on her phone screen. Why would her girlfriend’s best friend call her? Already imagining the worst, Caitlin hurries to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi mate. It’s Grace"

"Is Katie okay?" Caitlin asks, forgetting any manners.

"Yeah, yeah, she’s fine, don’t worry" Grace quickly replies, suspecting Caitlin’s worry.

"What’s going on?"

"I mean, when I say she’s okay, I’m talking about physical well-being. But I’m not hiding from you that since she came here she seems… I don’t know, sad? I even thought at one point that you had an argument or that you had broken up"

Despite her, Caitlin feels her stomach twist. Everything was fine between them when Katie left and during the various exchanges of messages or calls they had.

"What? No, we’re fine. And she didn’t tell me that something was up when we talked."

And they were talking at least once with FaceTime everyday, in addition of messaging through the day. Frowning, Caitlin sits on the first chair near her. She tries to understand what can bother Katie so much, not really finding answers. What intrigues her is that her girlfriend doesn't seem to have wanted to share her moods with her, whereas normally they talk about everything.

"I tried to talk to her, but you know her. She doesn’t want to say anything." Grace continues

"Does Ruesha give her a hard time?"

There is a few seconds of silence before Grace's answer and Caitiln imagines her perfectly shruging her shoulders after having thought a little while.

"No more than usual. Katie avoids being with her as much as possible but they can’t avoid each other all the time. Rue is Rue but it could be worse tho"

Caitlin gives up a grunt for any answer. Letting Katie go with her ex wasn’t something easy for Caitlin and not just out of jealousy. We can’t say that Ruesha was nice to them.

Persuaded that Katie has cheat with Caitlin even before their breakup, Rue seems to take a malignant pleasure in taking revenge on something that never happened. Despite the multiple explanations from Katie, who finally gave up.

"I think spending her birthday away from you and most of her friends weighs more than usual, because of all that." Grace says.

"Oh…"

Of course, Caitlin would have preferred to spend that day with Katie. She could also have followed Katie to Ireland to spend a few hours with her that day, but the two women made the decision not to do so to avoid any drama with Ruesha precisely.

"Look, I know you both agreed it was better that way, but I really think Katie would like you to come. She needs you. But I don’t mean to put pressure on you, obviously."

"I’ll get someone who can take care of Coopurr and I’ll be there as soon as possible."

It was easier for Caitlin to find a plane ticket to Dublin than to find someone to take care of her girlfriend’s precious cat. It's finally Laura who has custody of it for a few days, after receiving a long list of recommendations from Caitlin who finally became almost as fond of the feline that Katie is.

Caitlin came to Ireland twice, but it was always with Katie and to meet her girlfriend’s family. Learning that Caitlin was coming, Ella and Lauryn, some of Katie's sisters, offered to pick her up at the airport and then take her to Katie’s hotel. Grace is supposed to help Caitlin sneak into Katie’s room while another teammate keeps Katie busy.

"Oh wow" Caitlin says when entering the room she rented.

The decoration she requested for the occasion is already installed and it's even better than what she had imagined. She takes the time to open her suitcase to install the last elements to the decoration, some pictures of them in particular.

Then Caitlin takes a quick shower to cool off after the trip and changes clothes, before heading to the suite lounge to wait for Katie. She voluntarily didn't respond to Katie’s messages as quickly and as long as usual, wishing that the surprise effect for Katie was to the maximum. But she transferred the photos of the cat that Laura sent her in the last few hours, giving her the impression that she is still in London. In her humble opinion, Caitlin will be able to embark on a second career in events when she has to retire from sport.

But these thoughts are quickly pushed back when Caitlin distinctly hears the voice of her girlfriend ringing in the corridor leading to the room. She is grumbling, something based on "I hope it’s worth it Gracie, I just wanted to put my ass in front of Netflix" which amuses the Australian a lot.

Thanks to the double magnetic card that Grace has, she opens the door of the suite on Grumpy Katie.

Her face changes instantly when she sees Caitlin patiently standing in the center of the room.

"What the fuck?!" almost shout the Irish.

Caitlin’s laughter mingles with Grace's in front of Katie’s stupor, who doesn't seem to dare sketch the slightest gesture. The fact that it's two days before her birthday probably plays a little too.

But Katie ends up getting out of her stupor and suddenly rushes inside the room to hug her girlfriend. Grace takes the opportunity to make a discreet exit, delicately closing the door behind her after depositing the card on the cabinet of the entrance.

"What the hell are you doing here?" asks Katie, taking Caitlin’s face in both hands, as if to make sure she’s not dreaming.

"I heard my girlfriend was having a hard time. And I missed her very much too"

"Wait where is Coop?" frowns Katie

"Really? Your damn cat before kissing me?" Caitlin laughs.

A guilty smile on her lips, Katie hurries to put her lips on Caitlin's to properly celebrate their reunion. A tender and delicate kiss and Caitlin would swear she feels Katie’s muscles relax one by one in her arms.

"Hi" smiles Katie after kissing

"Hi" replies Caitlin smiling back, dropping a new kiss on her lips. "Coop is with Laura"

Katie hums simply, sticking herself in the arms of her girlfriend. Grace was right in calling Caitlin, the captain of Ireland has had better times than now. But she obviously wasn’t going to complain to anyone. Understanding the message, Caitlin tightens her arms around her, affectionately stroking her hair by gently rocking her, giving her the confort quietly asked.

"What’s all this?" Katie asks several minutes later, looking at the decoration.

"The second part of the surprise. The first being me, of course"

A smile appears on Katie's face, who becomes aware of the whole decoration, her gaze lingering on each of the photos that Caitlin has installed. Some are recent, some are from last year and some are even older.

"This is the first photo we took together" informs Caitlin pointing to a photo

A smile appears on Katie’s face when she looks more closely.

"We look like babies" Katie smirks

"You do. I still look the same actually"

"You’re right. You’ve always been beautiful"

"You're such a simp"

Caitlin rolls her eyes, unable to retain an amused smile. This is probably not the right time to talk about all her adolescent and young adult complexes. The Australian prefers to focus on the present and her girlfriend. Although they were quickly interrupted by knocks on the door, announcing the arrival of their dinner.

********

"Thanks for coming" whispers Katie, a few hours later.

They enjoyed their meal accompanied by champagne (without alcohol of course), talked and laughed. Katie has honestly not felt as relaxed as she is since arriving at the camps. When Caitlin offered to take a bath, Katie didn't hesitate a single second before accepting. Before, she was not a fan of baths, considering that it was a great waste of time. But if she has the opportunity to add Caitlin naked with her in the hot water, she's suddenly a very big fan.

Sitting in front of her in the bathtub that is about to overflow with foam, Caitlin leaves the foam with which she was playing, to report her eyes on Katie.

"Sure. But next time I’d rather you tell me directly if something’s wrong. You don’t have to pretend with me."

Katie looks thoughtfully at Caitlin for a few seconds, a slight guilt creating in the pit of her stomach.

"I- I just…"

"It’s not dramatic, Puddin" Caitlin says, smiling, taking her hand in hers.

"I just didn’t want to worry you and complicate things"

"It's ok, I’m not angry. You want to talk about it?"

Katie sighs, her hand slowly playing with the foam. When she thinks about it, she feels like she's overreacting or something. That's partly why she didn't talk to Caitlin about it.

"It's nothing really. It's just that everything seems harder here. Without you" she adds, without looking at her. "Rue is an ass and the team's dynamic isn't really the same. It's like every single one of them has to choose their side between me and her, but I never wanted this. It's really weird."

"I'm sorry" mumble Caitlin.

"It's not your fault" frowns Katie, looking at her this time. "It will get better"

Caitlin shrugs and sighs too. If she has the choice, she would pack her bags, put Katie in it and go back to London. But she can't, for obvious reasons.

"I know how much you loved the Irish camps, I just want you to be happy"

"I will kill you if you say other people and they see how much you make me sappy, but I am happy, thanks to you. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy in my life as I have been since we are together. I know I like to play the big guy, but you make me feel cared, safe and loved. There is no stupid competition between us to know which of the two is better. I’ve always looked for someone to push me to be better every day, but you do it and in a much healthier way than I’ve known so far."

Caitlin’s tormented face transforms into tender and Katie barely has time to finish her sentence as the Australian moves to find herself as close to her as possible, sending some hot water and foam on the ground.

"I hope to continue to feel this for a very long time" adds Katie on a whisper, Caitlin’s face a few inches from hers.

"I intend to love you for the rest of my life. And you will have no choice" Caitlin replies with an amused smile.

"Sounds good to me" Katie smirks, before grabbing her girlfriend’s face to kiss her.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #caitlin foord #caitlin foord imagine #caitlin foord x katie mccabe #katie mccabe x caitlin foord #katie mccabe imagine #katie mccabe #woso one shot #mcfoord

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isleoffloweruk · 1 year

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#flower shops in london #flower shops #flowers online uk #flowers online #best flower delivery uk #wedding flowers #wedding gift flower bouquet #bouquets #flowers #gif #online flower #wedding #roses and tulips bouquet #wedding bouquets london #pink lilac wedding flowers #wedding gifts

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ghostaholics · 1 year

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living for the sugar daddy price ficlet!! also lowkey love the idea of him driving the oc home after the coffee shops closes cause he doesn’t want her going home alone

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 || 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

alright but you and I are on the same wavelength because the way I already have this planned out with him driving her home so often that now he has the car ready for her before she even gets inside – seat warmer on, heater blasting; probably some banter about his music preferences, to which she says she'll think anything is good because she listens to that fucking jazz instrumental on repeat for her coffee shop shifts that makes her ears bleed so whatever is on in the car is a nice reprieve

but anyways, the first time he drops her off, he doesn't like how unsafe the building/area is (notices little things as he's driving through and walking her to the door), expresses his concern in his usual militaristic, matter-of-fact way but makes sure not to say anything out of line since they're really just starting to be friends

and she says that it's all she can afford with her wages and just makes do with the best of her situation (which is absolutely terrible, e.g. neighbors, plumbing, appliance issues, etc. as it is can be quite possible for Londoners to have poor housing conditions from my research)

so he does at least teach her some defense moves which leads to some sexual tension and very confused feelings between both of them, but not any actual smut yet and she may or may not have to use them at any point, but idk I haven't thought that far ahead and honestly it's more of like a feel-good plot than anything with tension or drama so I wouldn't make any of them suffer

but I digress – she gets evicted and has to find a new place to live within only a few day's notice and at this point they are actually sort-of-friends so he offers her his spare room in his apartment which so happens to be in a nicer section of the city (except it's not actually a spare room, it's a fully fledged office that he basically tears down and leaves it in move-in ready condition when she gets there so she doesn't know), turning this also into a semi-roomate au too

and of course the only way she can take it is if he begrudgingly agrees to let her pay some rent but he leaves the price ridiculously low maybe £500-600 at most per month, and she would honestly be an idiot to turn down the offer, so she accepts and then at some point we find out that he actually saves that money for her in an account to accrue interest and gifts it to her as a graduation present ♡

#sorry for rambling #i am writing the first part where they meet in the coffee shop #i love talking about them though come in my inbox at any time #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #john price smut #john price headcanons #captain price x reader #captain price x you

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auras-moonstone · 9 months

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Ethan Landry x reader where her family forgot her birthday so she has to spend her birthday alone until he gives her a gift with a card that says happy birthday or something like that

forget about the heartbreaks — ethan landry

word count: 2,039

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: when ethan comes home to a heartbroken y/n, he does his best to make her forget about the awful birthday fiasco.

warnings: lots of fluff and cheesiness, you’ve been warned.

Y/N HAD BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO HER 20TH BIRTHDAY DINNER FOR WEEKS. She had invited her parents for dinner at her apartment, and she was beyond excited. They hadn’t seen each other for months, as Y/N moved to New York to study and they stayed in California.

Starting in a new city alone, at such a young age was very hard for Y/N. She had made an amazing group of friends, yes, but she couldn’t help but feel homesick. She missed her mother’s warm hugs and her father’s calming smile. Hence why she had been counting the days until the day came.

She felt her roommate’s gaze on her when she walked out of her room. “Hey, Eth.”

“Hi. I was just about to head to Chad’s. I wanted to see you before I go.”

“Sorry I’m kicking you out of the dorm.” she said guiltily.

“You didn’t kick me. I was the one who suggest you invite your parents for dinner. And it’s only for a couple of hours, Y/N/N. It’s no big deal.” he assured her. “You look beautiful, by the way. I told you red was your color.”

Y/N laughed, remembering Ethan’s look of relief when she got out of the dressing rom with a satisfying smile on her face, letting him know they had finally found the right dress—which was the one he had chosen. “I still can believe you picked up this one.”

“What does that mean?!” he asked offended.

“Eth, you have the same polo shirts in different colors. And you wear flannel jackets.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Ethan crossed his arms.

“You have no sense of style, Eth.” Y/N said, and he put his hands on his chest dramatically, as if she had just wounded him. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t mean you don’t pull off polo shirts. You look amazing in them.”

“That actually makes me feel better.” he said, trying not to let her know how much he liked being complimented by her. “Anyways, I better go. Your parents should be here at any moment.”

“Thank you so much, Ethan. Really. For helping me cook, for going shopping with me, for baking the cake with me.” she hugged him tightly, enjoying the way she could hear his heartbeats accelerating as he hugged her back.

“Anything for you” he mumbled against her hair. “Save me some cake, okay?”

“Of course.”

“Have fun.” he shouted right before the door shut close.

Once she finished setting the table, Y/N pulled out her phone to check on her parents. She noticed the texts she had sent that afternoon hadn’t been answered yet. She supposed it had been because they had been on the plane, but they should’ve landed hours ago. So she decided to call.

“Hi, mom. Finally. I sent you and dad lots of texts. What happened?” Y/N said as her mother picked up.

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. We just landed.” the sweet voice of her mother said.

“Just now? I thought you were flying in the morning.” Y/N said confused.

“We did! It’s a long flight, honey. You know that.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “Mom, what are you talking about?” she laughed confused. “It’s only five hours by plane.”

“What?“ she bursted out laughing. Y/N heard the sound of her father’s voice asking his wife what was wrong with her. “Your daughter is being funny.”

“You are being funny, mom. Where are you both?” Y/N asked, losing her patience.

“London, honey. Your father has a business trip, I thought we told you.” the woman said.

Y/N’s body went still. She must have misheard her, or her mother must have been joking. “Very funny, mom. Cut it.”

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird.” the sound of a car horn was heard. “Oh, the cab just arrived. Honey, I’m sorry but we have to get to the hotel.”

“Come on, mom. Stop it. It isn’t funny anymore.” Y/N said, her voice broke a bit. She held onto the hope that it was all just one twisted joke, that her parents were actually about to burst through the door, with a ‘Baby, we’re right here’ smile, and she would be so happy.

“Are you about to cry? What’s wrong?” the concern on her mother’s voice made Y/N angry.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Just that my parents forgot they were supposed to be here with me, for my birthday.” she said bitterly.

A gasp of realization followed by heavy breathing was heard on the line. No words were muttered. “Y/N…”

“I told you how much I needed you both to be here. I don’t even care that it was my birthday. It was just an excuse to make you both come to New York, because I know that only a special occasion can make you two take a break from work. I clearly overestimated you.”

“I’m sorry… we’re sorry” her dad sighed. Y/N assumed she had been on speaker.

“I’m sorry too. Hope you have fun in London.” she ended the call and the tears fell down like a cascade. She looked around the room, seeing the plates perfectly arranged around the vase containing roses, and felt a pang in her heart.

Weeks of anticipation and hours of preparation went to waste. She never would’ve guessed she would end up on the floor of her living room, all alone, crying because the ones who meant the most to her didn’t show to her birthday.

Y/N didn’t know how long she had spent crying her heart out, but she guessed it had been too long because the tears stopped falling and she felt completely exhausted and weak, her head hurt and her eyes felt tired. And she also heard the front door open, meaning Ethan had arrived.

She hid her face in the pillow, not wanting him to see what a mess she was.

“Is the birthday girl tired from one dinner? I think my grandma has more energy than you” he joked. She still didn’t look up. “I know you’re not sleeping, dork. I saw you hiding your face.” after a few seconds of silence, Ethan pulled the pillow away and his teasing smile fell at the sight of her puffy red eyes, the dry tears on her cheeks and her saddened gaze. “Y/N/N…“

The tears were streaming down her face again before she could even open her mouth. Ethan instantly pulled her into his arms, and it wasn’t until that moment that she realized how much she needed that.

The feeling of his arms made her heart warm up a bit, the familiarity of his sweet cologne calmed her down, which allowed her to finally speak, “They forgot, Eth.”

Ethan’s body went still, and the only reason why he didn’t grab her phone and dial Y/N’s parents number to scream at them for having hurt her, was because that was the last thing Y/N needed right now.

“I know that no matter what I do, I won’t be able to make this the best birthday you ever had. But I want you to at least enjoy the last hours of your day, so I promise I’ll try my best to make you a little bit happier.” he said before running to his room. He came back a couple of seconds later, hands behind his back. “I know you have been wanting one of these for a long time.”

Ethan sat next to her again, handing her the wrapped box. She gave him a little smile, and took the card that was attached to the ribbon.

so you can capture the things you like :)

happy birthday to the best friend (and roommate) in the world!

love, eth x

The tidy handwriting and the three little hearts scribbled at the very corner of the note made her want to cry of cuteness. If she had any more tears in her system, she would have done it.

“You’re the sweetest, Eth.” she kissed his cheek and he became a whole blushing mess. She saw the mark she left on his skin and laughed. “Oops, I forgot I was wearing red lipstick.”

“It’s okay… now open it. You’re killing me!” Ethan said excitingly.

Laughing at his excitement, she opened the box and her wide-eyed gaze fell on him. “Holy shit, Ethan!”

“You like it?” Ethan asked with a huge grin. He was happy by her change of mood. Seeing her in such devastating state literally broke his heart into a million pieces.

“I love it. Thank you so much.” she placed the Instant Camera he gifted her on the box to pull him into a long and warm hug. “Not only for the camera, but for everything. You make me really happy, and I’m glad I got to spend my birthday with you.”

He smiled at her and then leaned in to whisper “Happy birthday, Y/N/N.”

“Thank you, Eth.” she answered softly.

“Now, let’s test your camera” his smile even bigger than before. Y/N couldn’t help but break into one too—it was impossible not to, Ethan had the most contagious and beautiful smile in the world. It was so breathtaking and heartwarming that it needed to be captured. So she did. “I didn’t mean test it on me!” he laughed.

Y/N looked at the polaroid on her hand. Her attention wasn’t caught by Ethan’s perfect white and straight teeth, or by his gorgeous brown eyes that reflected happiness, or by his adorable wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. It was caught by the scarlet mark on his cheek, with the shape of her lips. A swarm of butterflies invaded her stomach, she liked him so much it hurt.

“The note said I should capture the things I like… so I did.” he looked at Y/N in complete shock for a moment, and then his face lit up like a christmas tree, and Y/N could sense the lingering question. “I mean it. I like you, Eth. As more than a best friend.”

Ethan reached his arm out to take her hand and pulled her into him. “I like you too.” he said right before pressing his soft lips against her crimson ones. “Let me see the picture.” Ethan said when they got out of the dizzying state that the consuming kisses left them in.

“You’re so gorgeous, did I ever tell you that?” Y/N asked as she watched him observe the polaroid.

“No, you didn’t” Ethan’s blood rushed into his cheeks.

“Well, you are. And if you blush that prettily every time I compliment you, then I’m never stopping.” she whispered, pressing kisses all over his face, leaving red marks everywhere. She took another picture. “I’m also never going to stop taking pictures of you, just so you know.”

“You’re so cheesy.” Ethan rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips went up.

“It’s actually your fault, you know?”

“How?”

“First of all, you are so amazing that you leave me no choice but to fall for you. And then, you gift me a camera. You brought it on yourself.” she shrugged and his sweet laugh invaded her ears, making her heart go wild.

“Cheesy.” he repeated. “Come here and cuddle me.”

When Y/N settled her head on his chest, Ethan stretched the arm that wasn’t wrapped around her waist and grabbed the camera. He pressed his cheek against the top of her head and they both smiled.

“I bet that was awful, you have the worst pulse.” Y/N said, raising her head to see the picture he had just taken, but Ethan wouldn’t let her. “Eth!”

“Wait a second” he searched for the pen on his pocket and started writing something on the polaroid.

“Why do you have a pen on your pocket?” Y/N laughed.

“So I can write my number when girls ask for it.” Ethan replied, trying not to laugh when Y/N sent him a glare. “I’m kidding” he chuckled.

“You’re the worst.” she scoffed.

The curly-haired boy pressed a kiss on her shoulder before handing her the polaroid. On the white frame, the words in black ink read ‘Be my gf, Y/N/N?’

‘I’d love to, Eth’, she replied underneath.

She showed him the polaroid and they both smiled at each other “Cheesy” she repeated his words.

“We’re a match made in heaven.” Ethan said.

“We really are.”

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