#make them nice little bouquets <3

[matchingbatbites]

Happy Valentine's, all. <3

Eddie doesn't want to be making this call. Literally the last thing he wants to be doing is making this specific phone call, but he'll be damned if he lets his asshole of a roommate get away with this.

After a moment the ringing stops, and a voice says "Hello?"

"Uh, hi, is this Steve?"

"It is, who is this?"

"It's Eddie, Jake's roommate? I got your number from him." Well, from his phone when he'd left it unattended one day, but Steve doesn't need to know the details. "I really, really hate to be making this call, especially the day before Valentine's, but uh. Jake is cheating on you."

The line is silent for a moment before he hears a weak "What?"

Eddie's eyes squeeze shut at the heartbreak he can hear in that single word. He hates that he's doing this, but knows it needs to be done, for Steve's sake.

"I got home from work not too long ago, and heard him with some girl in his room. I took a video, if you want proof, but I just- I thought you deserved to know."

There's a bit of shuffling on Steve's end, along with a soft sniffle. "I, uh. I don't need the video. I believe you. I'm not all that surprised, if I'm honest."

He huffs a laugh, the sound so self-deprecating that it makes Eddie's stomach twist in empathy. "Guess that makes me three-for-three on my long-term partners cheating. I'm starting to wonder what the fuck is wrong with me."

That last part is softer, like Steve was speaking to himself, but Eddie hears it and frowns, because- because Steve is lovely. He can tell that Steve is beautiful inside and out, always kind with just enough sass to make him so fun to be around.

He's always makes sure to talk to Eddie every time he comes over, even if it's just a simple greeting or goodbye, and whenever he cooks at their apartment - because he's a great cook - he always makes enough for Eddie to have some as well.

It feels wrong to hear Steve talk like this, like there's something about him that needs to be fixed. Like his previous partners were right to abuse his love and trust, instead of treating them like the treasures Eddie knows they are.

Before Eddie can speak out to reassure him, the man continues. "Thank you for telling me Eddie. Spending Valentine's alone is gonna suck, but I guess that's better than spending it with someone who doesn't care about me."

"Spend it with me."

Eddie isn't sure where the request comes from, but as soon as it leaves his mouth, it's all he wants.

Steve gives a soft "Huh?" and Eddie repeats it, "Spend it with me. A boy as pretty as you shouldn't be cooped up inside on a day like Valentine's. Let me take you out, try to salvage it for you at least a little."

Steve goes quiet, and for a solid ten seconds, Eddie is sure that he's about to be rejected.

And then Steve says "Jake was supposed to pick me up at 6:30 tomorrow. I'll come by yours at six instead, so I can break up with him before we leave. Is that okay?"

A sigh of relief, and Eddie slumps into the wall behind him. "Sounds perfect, Stevie. Wear something nice, but casual, okay?"

"I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie. And thanks again."

Jake comes across Eddie the next evening as he's packing the last of the food into a bag. He's spent the last hour or so getting it ready, making sure it's all perfect even though it's nothing too complicated.

A meat and cheese plate with some fancy crackers, a jar of the pickled asparagus he's recently become addicted to, a bowl of diced fruit and a box of fancy chocolates he'd splurged on.

He'd even dropped money on a bouquet of roses, and he already has a few comfy blankets and pillows packed into the back of the van. Everything perfect and ready to go. When Jake sees his preparations, he lets out a low whistle.

"Wow, Eddie. Trying to impress someone?"

Eddie shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Yep. It's our first date, so I want it to be special. Didn't wanna go the usual, boring, fancy restaurant route."

He's sure that's what Jake had planned for himself and Steve, and it's confirmed by the way his nose wrinkles. "There's nothing wrong with spending money on your date, Eddie. If you have the money to spend, that is."

Jesus Christ, Eddie can't wait to move out of this fucking place, and away from this fucking asswipe.

"Anyway, I've gotta go pick up Steve soon, and I'm planning on bringing him back here tonight, so maybe see if you can crash with your date, yeah?"

"Sure thing-" Eddie replies, though he's interrupted by the sound of a knock ringing through the apartment. He grins wide, knowing exactly who it is. "That must be my date. Can you grab that while I finish up here?"

Jake rolls his eyes but complies, and Eddie freezes in place, not daring to make a sound so he can hear whatever interaction is about to happen.

The door opens, and he hears Jake's confused "Steve? What are you doing here? I'm supposed to be-"

"Yeah, we're not doing anything anymore. Ever again, actually."

God, Steve sounds so bitchy, and Eddie fucking loves it. He grabs the bag of food and the bouquet of roses from the counter, glad that he got dressed beforehand, and makes his way to the entry.

"What are you saying, Steve?"

"I'm saying that we're over, Jake. Maybe you can call the girl you fucked last night and take her to dinner instead."

Eddie turns the corner in time to see Jake's stunned expression, clearly not expecting Steve to throw that at him. He takes a moment to bask in the fire burning behind hazel eyes, until they slide to him and that fire vanishes, replaced with something sparkling and delighted.

"Hi, Eddie," Steve says, his demeanor changing like the flip of a switch, and Eddie beams. He steps closer and offers the bouquet of roses, along with a "Happy Valentine's, Stevie."

The money Eddie spent on the flowers was worth it to see the blush that floods Steve's face as he reaches out to take them.

"Oh, thank you. That's really sweet of you."

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

Eddie and Steve both turn to look at a very petulant and confused Jake, and Steve just smiles. "Well, you just got dumped, and my Valentine is about to take me on a date."

It takes a moment, but something must finally click, because Jake's face goes red with rage. Eddie just grabs Steve's arm, guiding him out of the apartment before the man can actually do something.

"So what's the plan?" Steve asks as he takes Eddie's hand, lacing their fingers together as Eddie leads him to his van.

"Well, uh. The next town over still has a drive in theater, and they're showing some old romance movies tonight. The drive to get there is pretty nice, and we'll actually have some time to talk, and then- I have some blankets and pillows in the back of the van, and I brought food so we can do a picnic during the movies. I mean, if- if that sounds good to you."

Steve's eyes are sparkling again as Eddie rambles, and he squeezes their hands in delight. "That sounds perfect, Eds."

By the time Eddie gets home late that night, he's learned two things:

The first is that Steve had already been debating on breaking up with Jake before this whole fiasco, but the thing stopping him was that he actually likes being around Eddie, and he thought wanting to hang out with his ex-boyfriend's roommate would be too weird.

The second thing Eddie's learned is that Steve's smile tastes like dark chocolate and sunshine, and kissing him might just be Eddie's new favorite hobby.

(Eddie does eventually show the video to Steve, just to reassure him that he didn't break them up so Eddie could date him instead. The only comment Steve makes is "She's definitely faking, his dick game isn't that good.")

#i didn't plan on writing over 1k for valentine's #but here we are #steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie au #steve harrington #eddie munson #joey writes

[lovebugism]

Shy!reader who has never had a valentine and Steve who pulls out alllll the stops to make up for this—flowers, chocolate, jewelry, candles, a nice dinner, even stuff like a teddy bear and those cheesy kid valentines

happy love day <3 — steve helps his shy gf celebrate her very first valentine's day (shy!reader, established relationship, cw for brief mentions of anxiety, 1k)

Valentine’s Day afternoon is grey and gloomy, but your beaming makes up for it. You’re smiling wide and sparkling with it the second you see Steve waiting for you in the parking lot outside your work. He’d promised to pick you up, yes, but you’re always giddy at the sight of him.

“Hey, babe,” the boy greets with his own grin, crooked and perfectly pink. 

He looks all cool, leaning against the driver’s side of his car. Pristine sneakers crossed over one another, sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows, strands of cinnamon hair draping his forehead — how are you supposed to do anything but melt for him?

“Hi,” you respond in a tinier voice, walking closer to him now. You duck your chin to your chest and peer at him through your lashes, always so painfully shy.

“Did you have a good day?”

“It was alright,” you shrug and plant yourself in front of him. The deep scent of cologne staining his shirt combines with the earthy scent of impending rain. The concoction makes you dizzy. “Kept thinking about seeing you the whole time, though.”

Your confession makes the bridge of his chiseled nose scrunch. 

“Well, that makes two of us,” he quips before revealing the bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. A small thing wrapped in pale pink tissue paper — pastel lavenders and pale baby’s breath — as pretty and delicate as you are.

You light up instantly, eyes glittering as they flit from the bushel of flowers to Steve’s proud grin. “You got me flowers?” you wonder, quiet with disbelief. You take them with a soft, trembling hand.

Steve shrugs. “‘Course I did.”

You bury your nose in the perfumed florals and flash a sheepish look over them. “No boy’s ever gotten me flowers before…”

Steve knows this. He knows you’ve never had a valentine before him — that you’ve never been with anyone the way you’ve been with him. It’s why he’s always so soft and perfectly patient with you.

“‘Cause other boys are stupid,” he says, grinning when it makes you giggle. He takes another step closer to you and smooths his warm palms over your arms. His thumbs rub gently along the outsides of your elbow. “Do you like them?”

“I love them,” you insist, smiling so wide it hurts. “They’re gonna look so pretty in my room.”

“Want me to take you home then? So you can get ready for tonight?”

Your brows pinch at his mischievous tone. “What’s tonight?”

“Dinner. I wanna take you to that fancy, new Italian place in the city.”

“Oh.” Your panic is subtle but still written all over your face. You’re not good at going out — you’re worse at trying new things. Steve’s certainly made you braver, but you’re always a little timid at heart. 

Steve knows this and assures with a soft smile, “But we don’t have to if you don’t want. It was just a suggestion.”

“I want to,” you hear yourself say.

His brows raise, visibly shocked. “You do?”

There’s something about the way he looks at you, with a glimmer in his deep brown eyes, that makes you bold. You nod once, firm and foreignly confident. “Yeah.”

Steve tries not to be too obvious about his smiling, but he wears his love for you all over his face without trying. “Then let’s go.”

—————

Rain beats heavy against the window of the candle-lit restaurant, a wild and delicate cadence. The flickering flame paints Steve’s smile golden while his eyes glow a shining amber. He tries to woo you like you’re not wearing the pretty dress he bought you — like you’re not wearing his initial in a pendant dangling between your breasts.

“You’re the Obi-Wan for me,” he jokes before taking a hearty bite of his steak. He chews through the mouthful and gestures with his fork. “You know. Like only one—”

“I get it,” you assure with a sickly sweet smile.

He’s been doing this for a better part of an hour. The Valentine’s Day crowd rushed in, and your waiter got your order wrong, and the whole thing spun you into a tizzy. Steve’s been trying to distract you from your nerves ever since. And it’s worked. Mostly.

“Well, you’re not laughing!” he retorts, playful in his solemnity. “That one was good— you gotta give me some credit.”

“It was,” you assure with a quiet nod. You don’t say it like you mean it, but more like you’re trying to appease him.

“Are you saying you can come up with a better one?” he teases.

You think for a moment, doe eyes flitting across the droplets sliding down the window beside you. Your glossed lips purse all pretty to the side with the weight of your pondering. A smile tugs slow at your lips when you turn back to him. “Obi-Wan Ke-bone-me.”

A laugh sputters from Steve’s mouth. As pure and innocent as sunshine. He nods with a proud, lopsided smile. “You’re right. That was way better.”

“I Obi-Want you tonight,” you follow, giggling still.

“You are on fire tonight, you know that?”

You laugh again, louder this time. Steve beams at the pretty sound and waits until you’ve scooped a too-big bite of pasta in your mouth to compliment you. “You’re so pretty…” he murmurs in a low, honeyed tone. His eyes sparkle with amber, warm and visibly fond.

You stop mid-chew to scowl. You’re too cute to look threatening — especially when you’ve got spare sauce dotted on the corner of your mouth. “Stop…” you scold after you’ve swallowed down the mouthful.

Steve laughs, loud and boyish. “You are!”

“You’re being too nice…” you grouse with your nose scrunched.

“I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to be nice.”

“But not this nice,” you insist, smiling despite yourself. You twirl noodles around your fork to busy your fidgeting hand. Your sheepish gaze flits from the half-empty plate to the beautiful boy in front of you. “I think you’re starting to ruin everyone else for me, Stevie…”

His chest sparkles with a warmer feeling. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs. “That was kinda the plan here, babe.”

“Was it?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods and folds his arms over the white-clothed table. He grins wide and leans in close.  His cinnamon eyes sparkle with a mixture of adoration and mischief. “You fell right into my trap.”

You smile back at him, so happy that you did.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

[satorisoup]

PUT YOUR HEAD ON MY SHOULDER .ᐟ

ft. hq boys and their acts of intimacy <3

cw : fluff + sfw. timeskip! setting. mentions of bathing together.

ᰔ BOKUTO + BUBBLE BATHS

even though he may be a little too burly to fit comfortably with you in the tub, and it takes a couple minutes to get situated without getting squashed, bokuto loves to bathe with you. he enjoys running the warm water, not too hot, not too cold, but just right. he’ll mix in a nice scented soap that makes bubbles rise high in the bathtub, lavender and citrus you can smell in the mist of your bathroom. he’ll hold your hands under the water, and maybe splash you a couple times, but he shows he cares with the delicate touches he leaves on your skin as he washes away the worries of the world with a sponge of suds. he’ll lather your hair in your favorite shampoo, careful to not snag any knots, and rinse the strands with such gentleness you can barely even feel it. and when you’re all done, he’ll wrap you in a warm towel, snug and clean while he kisses your damp cheeks with a huge smile.

ᰔ KITA + FLOWERS

kita vowed that when he started dating you, he would never allow a week to go by without your vase being filled with a new bouquet. he’ll come home to you, new flowers wrapped in the palm of his hands as he kisses you hello. he loves the the way you get excited, eyes twinkling at the delicate petals and floral scent as you thank him over and over. he’ll watch you with a fond smile as you carefully take them in your grasp, setting them into a pretty vase that makes your home light up with color. he won’t let you see the flowers die, always keeping one for himself so he knows when it’s time to replace them. he’ll always tell you the meaning of the bouquet he got, or leave a pretty note tied around the stems. he buys a different type of flower every time, because he knows you’ll enjoy the variety. he adores you just as much as you adore the beautiful flowers.

ᰔ ATSUMU + MASSAGING YOU

atsumu has talented hands from years of playing volleyball, and he puts them to good use when you complain that you’re sore. he’ll knead at the expanse of your skin, smiling to himself as you sigh in content. he’ll rub away the tiredness of your muscles, gentle but calculated touches everywhere you could need. he likes to hold your hands in his, massaging from your fingers all the way up to your arms, and back down to your hands again. he’ll lay your sock-clad feet in his lap, squeezing and rubbing the ache away with his fingers. he’ll sit you on his lap, massaging the discomfort of your cramping shoulders until your melting into his touch. he won’t be rough, making sure his touch is tender and soft while he works the knots out. he kindly kisses your skin when he’s done, and feels that it’s a mission accomplished when you tell him you feel much better.

ᰔ OSAMU + FEEDING YOU

as long as osamu is around, you will always have a full plate. he’s always in the kitchen, a small and sacred book of his ma’s recipes standing proud on an easel. you don’t remember the last time you’ve heard your stomach grumble, because he’s already sliding a bowl your way. he loves how domestic it feels, to use the recipes he once enjoyed as a kid and serve them to you on a silver platter. he likes that you’re his personal taste tester, giving him a thumbs up with full cheeks as you chew. when your sick, he’ll insist on feeding you, hot spoon of soup between his fingers, his hand cusped at the bottom to catch any that falls. he’ll wake you up in the early mornings to tell you the food is ready, and sometimes surprise you with breakfast in bed. he’ll kiss your chubbed cheeks as you munch on one of his special onigiris, and ask you if you want another until your belly is full.

ᰔ AKAASHI + READING TO YOU

akaashi enjoys reading to you every chance he gets. a book held in the palms of his hands, licking his thumb every time he turns the page. he’ll have you curled up to his side, or sat between his legs, as he reads aloud the words imprinted on the page. he’ll add emotion to his voice at the important parts, and he’ll glance at your face to see your reaction. his voice is soft and soothing as he reads, occasionally moving his hand towards your hair to gently caress the top of your head. when it’s nighttime, he reads to you almost as if it’s a bedtime story, bedside lamp warming the room with it’s light as he flips through the pages. chapter after chapter he brings you closer to sleep, pages like a lullaby of prompts and fiction. he’ll pause when he notices your reactions have gone silent, breathing evened out as you lulled into a quiet slumber. he’ll smile as he puts a bookmark between the spine, already anticipating tomorrow when he can continue to read you the next chapter.

#satorisoup #hq x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #bokuto x y/n #akaashi x you #kita x you #atsumu x y/n #osamu x you #inarizaki x y/n #fukurodani x reader #osamu fluff #kita fluff #bokuto fluff #akaashi fluff #atsumu fluff #hq akaashi #hq bokuto #hq atsumu #hq kita #hq osamu #haikyuu drabbles

[familyvideostevie]

time you will not spend alone

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3

Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.

You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.

It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.

Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.

"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."

She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.

"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."

You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.

"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."

She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"

You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.

Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.

It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve. 

God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.

So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.

"How do you choose which ones to pick?"

"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."

She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."

You roll your eyes at her.

"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"

"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"

She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.

"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."

You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."

"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.

It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.

"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."

"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.

She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."

You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."

She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.

"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"

"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."

"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."

It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.

The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.

It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.

You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.

"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."

"Can you hold these?"

You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.

"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"

"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."

He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.

When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.

He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.

You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.

"Did you have a job already?" you ask.

"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"

"They're for you."

Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.

"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"

You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.

He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.

"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."

"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure. 

He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.

"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.

You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.

"I am pretty romantic," he muses.

It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.

And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.

Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.

So, you also do things like bring him flowers.

Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.

Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.

"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."

___

Joel is hiding something from you.

The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.

But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.

He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.

In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.

One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.

"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.

"Gimme a second," he calls back down.

"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"

Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.

Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."

You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"

The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.

"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"

"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"

Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"

The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.

"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.

"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.

"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."

"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"

"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."

She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."

"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.

You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."

"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."

__

You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.

And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.

"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.

The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."

"I think he'd say the same thing about you."

Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.

"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."

"Is he just telling everyone but me?"

"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."

You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.

Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"

You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.

A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened. 

You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."

"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."

"Except what happens in my own home," you tease. 

He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.

"I know I will."

You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself. 

Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.

Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.

And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.

"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."

You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”

“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. 

Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.

"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."

Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.

"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."

"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.

"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."

It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.

“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."

He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.

"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."

You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."

He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”

__

Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.

After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.

"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.

"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.

"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."

He shrugs.

You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.

The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.

The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."

His fingers press into your skin.

"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"

"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.

Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.

"I can work some magic right now," he says.

You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.

"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."

You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.

Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."

Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.

"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.

Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.

"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"

He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.

"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."

You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.

"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.

Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.

You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.

His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.

"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.

"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."

He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.

"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."

It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.

"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"

A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.

"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.

"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.

"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.

"And I want you to fuck me," you add.

It's Joel's turn to laugh.

"Now who's the romantic one?" he says. 

You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.

His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.

"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Flirt," you tease.

He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.

He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.

"Ready?"

You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.

Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.

"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"

You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.

He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.

"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.

You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.

Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"

"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.

"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"

Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.

"Joel?"

He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.

"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."

The confession stops you in your tracks.

"Oh?"

You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.

They're the same thing, really.

And he's made you something – one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.

But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.

"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"

Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.

You gingerly take it from him.

"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.

You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make. 

"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."

He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.

The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.

Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.

He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."

You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."

He runs his hand along your spine.

"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."

You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.

"What should I write in it?"

Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.

"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.

"All what?"

He shrugs one bare shoulder.

"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."

You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.

"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.

"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."

You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do. 

The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.

Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.

You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.

"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.

He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."

You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.

"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."

“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”

How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

[residenthughes]

opera house - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)

summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.

notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3

As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.

You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.

Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.

You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”

“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”

A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.

“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”

A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”

You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”

The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence. 

Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”

A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.

It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”

“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”

Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.

“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”

Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”

“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.

Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”

The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.

“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”

Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.

“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”

You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”

He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.

You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”

You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair. 

“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing. 

“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”

“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”

“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.” 

You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation. 

“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”

Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”

“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”

Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.

Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts’ waistband.

Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”

He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”

“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.

“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”

It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.

“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”

To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.

“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”

That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds. 

“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”

You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you. 

“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”

“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”

Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan. 

“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”

You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.

Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs. 

Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.

“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”

And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”

Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”

You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.” 

He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars. 

“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”

An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.

“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”

“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.

“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.” 

The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup. 

He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”

#jh86 #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes smut #jack hughes imagine #smut #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #jack hughes #residenthughes

[lovingperfectionsblog]

I'm Not A Spy?

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: There’s no way THE Max Verstappen got you flowers, absolutely no way. 

Warnings: Swearing, other than that, just silliness and fluff. 

Word Count: 1616

Authors note: This was literally a dream I had and I was encouraged to write it as a fic by my absolute dream of a friend @0-atmilk-latte so thank you sugar <3 I hope it’s okay. I really want to get back into writing my silly little stories so, let's try to do this. 

______

Enemy territory. 

This is where Max stood currently. Dead center in front of the Mercedes motorhome door, where everyone could see him. 

And every single person to walk through those doors sent him glares that would make sure he knew he was on enemy territory. 

He knew it was risky. Redbull merchandise adoring him. Sticking out like a sore thumb. It was a risk he was willing to take. 

“Horner send you?” Toto stepped through the doors after watching Max stand there for the past hour, “Although, I can't imagine who Horner would be giving those to?” eyes flicking between Max’s face and the bouquet of flowers he was currently white knuckling. 

“No sir, these are for your assistant.” Max tried to sound confident but even he could admit Toto was a terrifying man and this entire situation was feeling far too similar to the idea of trying to get your fathers permission to ask you on a date. 

“From?” Toto knew he was making Max squirm, but the only thing that would bring him more joy was if it were Horner himself standing in front of him instead of Max. 

“From me sir.” Max tried to stop his hands from shaking, the rustling of the leaves and flowers becoming oddly unbearable as he tried to stand his ground in front of your boss. 

“Why?” As much fun as Toto was having, he was also curious. He knew Max had been eyeing you up these past few weeks, paying more attention to you, attempting to talk to you every opportunity he could. He had even caught Max attempting to make small talk with Lewis and George, which he was now assuming was a bid at getting closer to you. At the very least attempt to make everyone around you like him in the meantime. 

“Because I was hoping to ask her to dinner sir.” Toto couldn't hide his surprise at Max’s honesty. Expecting at the very least some work around to that answer after some back and forth. 

God Max irritated him. He had no choice but to add this to the increasingly growing list of things he respected Max for and it infuriated Toto to no end. 

It didn’t mean he couldn't stress Max out in the meantime. 

“Well,” he let out a chuckle, “good luck then son.” 

“Boss, what’s the redbull scum doing on our turf?” George shouted towards Toto as he made his way towards the motorhome. 

Toto didn’t even give Max an opportunity to answer before he was shouting back, “Apparently he’s here to ask my assistant out to dinner.”

“Oh, makes sense why he’s been so nice to me and Lewis these last few weeks.” George made his way up to the entrance, joining his boss and rival, “Is this why you wanted to hang out in Monaco the other day?” 

Toto and George could only laugh at the uncontrollable blush that had made its way across Max’s face at being called out. 

And the situation was only made worse by, “Morning Boss, George,” you eyed the odd one out, cocking an eyebrow up in question, “and Max?” 

“Well then, go ahead,” was all that came from your boss in lieu of a greeting from any of them. 

And suddenly Max felt shy. All that previous bravado had clearly been used up with Toto, leaving none for the actual important interaction. 

He had to do something and soon, because you were standing there staring at him, waiting, for, well, something. 

Next second there was a bouquet thrust in your direction, gripped to near smithereens between Max’s hands. Your eyes darted between the flower and the three men in front of you, one completely avoiding eye contact, the other two doing a poor job to hide their smiles as they watched the interaction between you two. 

“What’s this for?” you refused to take the bundle from Max, unsure of what was happening. 

“You.” It was all Max could get out. 

“From?

“Me?” 

“Why?” 

“Jesus.” 

Toto barked out a laugh at the near identical conversation he and Max had just had. 

The flowers rustled in front of you as you assumed Max shook them for you to take. 

He would never admit that it was his nerves. 

You hesitantly took the flowers, eyeline switching between max and the, admittedly beautiful, bunch of flowers you were now holding. 

There was a long silence as you just stared at the flowers, eyebrows furrowing. Neither Max, Toto nor George fully understood what was going on in your mind. The silence extended so long that even Toto began to feel nervous, so he could only imagine what Max was feeling as he just stared you down just as intensely as you were staring at those flowers.  

Just as Toto reached out to nudge Max in an attempt to get him to say something to you, you began violently shaking the flowers. Petals and leaves began flying everywhere. Whole flowers landed on the floor at your feet. At least one had hit Max in the face. Toto stepped back in fear. Max shielded himself from the onslaught. By the time you were done, all that was left in your hand was one measly flower consisting of maybe four petals and a few leaves. The rest lay at your feet after your massacre. 

All three boys stared on in horror as you stood there breathless. Eyes fixed on Max like he was your prey. 

Everyone could hear the gulp from Max’s throat as he took a single step backwards. 

“You think just because I’m some girl and you’re the Max Verstappen in your fast little redbull you can treat me like some pawn in your weird little game?” you spat the words at him. 

Max desperately looked over to Toto and George for some help, but even they looked too scared to intercede on his behalf. 

“This isn’t some game, I just,” 

“You just what? Thought you could spy on my team?” you didn't even let him finish before throwing out a secondary accusation at him. 

“Spy?” George hadn’t meant to have that come out as loud as it did, but suddenly all attention was on him as he hid slightly behind Toto. 

“Obviously George. He probably put a listening device in the flowers to spy on us.” All three looked at you like you were insane, “Why else would he be giving me flowers?” 

“To ask you on a date.” The silence that followed Toto’s comment was deafening. 

“No.” It was all you could get out. 

“No to the date or no to him giving you flowers for that reason?” Totot was desperately trying to be the voice of reason here. 

“To him giving me flowers?” You’d yet to look at Max since the original accusations. 

“Why would Max be spying on us? Redbull is the fastest team on the grid?” George was emphatically nodding along with what Toto was saying, trying to get you to see that this was completely innocent. 

“I’m not a spy?” Max had finally spoken up, far too alarmed at the accusations beforehand to offer much more than this, beyond thankful to Toto for helping him explain. 

“Then what’s with the flowers?” You were sharp and blunt and Max couldn’t help but fall just that little bit more for you as he watched you defend your team. 

“To ask you on a date.” Max hesitantly pointed at Toto, showing that the original reason that was offered was correct. 

“You want to take me on a date?” Max could only nod, “and these flowers were to ask me on a date?” Another nod, smile growing as he watched your cheeks flush, “in front of my boss?” you side eyed your boss, hoping he’d take the hint to get out of there. 

“In my defense, I didn’t expect him to come talk to me, not stick around” Max’s eyes refused to leave you, a little nervous to at this point. 

“I’m not going anywhere, is it a yes or not?” Totot refused to budge, his massive presence looming over both you and Max as George peaked over his shoulder to continue watching the interaction. 

“Yes,” you watched as Max’s smile grew even wider than before, him already grabbing his phone out of his pocket so you could put your number in it for him, “as long as you promise you aren’t a spy!” you emphasized by shoving his phone, now containing your number, into his chest as a warning. 

“Not a spy. I promise,” Max stuck his pinky out, waiting for you to reciprocate, giving you the most legal of all promises, the pinky promise, “so it’s a date.” 

You nodded as you wrapped your pinky around his own, “A date.” 

After a moment Toto coughed, catching your attention and forcing you to let go of Max and straighten out your attire, “We should go, yes, we have, there’s work, yes, job, okay, bye” and with that, you had disappeared through the Mercedes motorhome doors, soon followed by Toto who clapped a hand against Max’s shoulders, muttering a “well done boy” as he followed you in to begin the day, leaving Max to stare after you as George sidled up next to him. 

The two stood in silence, Max staring at you as Toto clearly teased you about the interaction, and George stared at Max, gearing up to do some teasing of his own. 

“Never thought The Max Verstappen would be into women who scared him” 

“Shit, she’s so scary.” Max nodded along with his own statement before making George choke on his coffee with the next one, “I think I’m going to marry her.” 

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #x reader #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you

[mypimpademia]

— The Teacher (pt. 2)

Single dad! Gojo x Fem! Preschool teacher! Reader

Synopsis: Little Megumi wonders if you’re his new mom, and Gojo finds himself wondering the same thing.

TW: None

Note: click/tap here for part 1! or Click/tap here for part 3! I forgot to mention it in the first part, but ig it was kinda implied, Gojo is 29 in this not a teen like he was in canon. Gojo is also very briefly implied to get around

⇶ Satoru stuck to his promise of taking you out

⇶ He left Megumi with Utahime for the night, and made sure that everything was perfect for you

⇶ Truthfully, he went a little overboard out of his own anxiety

⇶ Booked reservations for one of the nicest restaurants in town, deep cleaned his house (just in case), got his already clean car detailed, bought a new suit despite having many hardly-worn ones in his closet, stalked your socials for hints at what you might like, and more that he’d be far too embarrassed to ever admit to

⇶ Satoru picked you up from your house at 6 pm, knocking on your door with a giant bouquet of flowers in hand

“You look incredible.”

Those were the only words Satoru could come up with when he saw you.

He always thinks you look incredible, but seeing you all dressed up outside of your usual work attire was a nice change of pace, and you looked effortlessly beautiful.

“Thank you, Toru,” you beamed. “You look pretty,” you told him, scanning over his tall figure, clad in a deep blue suit.

‘Toru’, ‘pretty’. He nearly passed out on your porch.

Satoru smiled, clearing his throat in an effort to gather his bearings as he fought back the deep blush that was crawling up his face.

“For you, mon chéri,” he said, in a corny fake French accent, presenting the large bouquet of flowers to you.

They were neatly wrapped in a brown paper, and tied off with a white bow. From just the look of it, you could tell they were expensive.

“These are my favorite,” you gasped, taking them from him. “How’d you know?”

He stalked your instagram and found a post from a year ago where you said you loved them.

“Lucky guess,” Satoru smiled. “Y’ready to go?”

⇶ He led you to his shiny black sports car, opening up the door for you to get in

⇶ It even smelled expensive, and the fresh scent of car shampoo was still lingering. You could tell he had it cleaned just for this, but didn’t say anything

⇶ When you got to the restaurant, out of place was an understatement for how you felt

⇶ You were just happy you decided to dress nicer than you had originally planned

⇶ Looking around, the restaurant was beautifully decorated, and the people dining were dressed just as beautiful

⇶ The more time you spent with Satoru, the more that you realized you knew next to nothing about him

⇶ Where does he get all this money from? What does he do for a living? Who is he, really? And what’s up with the sunglasses?

⇶ You will admit, the mystery only made him all the more attractive, but you had a newfound determination to peel back his layers

⇶ But your first date might not be the best time for that, so you were willing to let things unfold naturally for now

⇶ Satoru insisted that you ordered whatever you want off the menu because he was paying, and ignored your protests

⇶ You hopped around different topics of conversation throughout dinner, and you did eventually make it to the subject of work

⇶ Satoru asked you what exactly made you want to teach preschool, or teach at all, and watched your eyes light up

⇶ Teaching was undoubtably a job you need to have a passion for, and you had more than enough passion for it

⇶ You told him that you’ve always had an interest in teaching, and loved kids and thought they were precious, sacred even, and that their early years are the best part to watch and be a part of

⇶ Satoru’s heart was getting ready to leap out of his chest just watching you talk about something you love so much

‘She’d make a great mom for Megs…’

⇶ The thought surprised even him, Satoru wasn’t sure if it was genuine or intrusive, but it had him glancing at your features and around him to make sure he hadn’t accidentally said it aloud

⇶ He told you that all the kids were lucky to have you, and that seeing you take care of Megumi and all those kids with ease made him feel like his worries from adopting were pointless

⇶ He glazed over the adoption part so easily, you almost missed it

⇶ Sure, you were more than well aware that Satoru was a single father, and when you saw that his last name was different from Megumi’s, you just assumed it was his mothers last name

“It is his mothers last name, but he’s not at all my biological kid. I adopted him from… a friend.”

⇶ You had removed a layer from Satoru, only to find how thin it was in comparison to the amount he had left

⇶ The revelation answered some of the questions you had, and left you with even more at the same time

⇶ Just based on the hesitation he showed, you knew better than to press any further, and changed the subject

⇶ The rest of dinner went smoothly, and you and Satoru once again went back and forth about the bill before he was calling the waiter back to take his card

⇶ On the drive back, Satoru asked if you wanted to see Megumi since Utahime’s house was in the same direction as yours

⇶ You said yes, because of course you wanted to see Megumi, and because it was getting harder and harder for you to say no to Satoru

⇶ When you arrived at Utahime’s, Megumi lept at you before he even said hello to Satoru

⇶ Satoru feigned being hurt by the action, but Megumi still payed him no mind, directing all his attention to you

⇶ Satoru thanked Utahime for watching Megumi, and you overheard her saying something about not dumping his kid on her again

⇶ Megumi had you sit in the backseat with him, and told you about all the stuff he did at Utahime’s

⇶ All the sudden, he asked why you and Satoru were all dressed up

“Did you guys go on a date?”

You and Satoru shared a questioning look through the rear view mirror, one that asked ‘Should we tell him?’.

“Sure did little man!” Satoru told him, but Megumi didn’t seem too surprised by his answer.

“Oh, Dad goes on a lot of those,” Megumi said, before going back to playing with the plastic dinosaur in his lap.

Satoru was rethinking all his life choices in that moment. He gulped back the saliva that had pooled in his mouth, already going over how exactly he could explain that to you later on.

To his surprise, he heard you laugh at Megumi’s comment.

“But I’m your favorite, right?” You asked the boy, playfully nudging him. He turned to you with big wide eyes and smiled.

“Yup!”

⇶ Dropping you off at your house, Satoru thanked you for letting him take you out, and haphazardly tried to apologize for Megumi’s little comment and explain himself

⇶ You told him it was fine, and thanked him for the night, hugging him and planting a kiss on his cheek

⇶ Satoru froze up at the action, but managed to say bye to you as he collected himself and you disappeared into your house

⇶ When he and Megumi got back home, Satoru made a point to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t just throw out information like that to people, especially you

⇶ While putting on the boys pajamas in the dimly lit dinosaur themed room, Megumi yawned out a question

“Hey, dad,”

He spoke through a yawn while rubbing his eye with his fist. Satoru hummed back in acknowledgment, straining out the bottom of the little boy’s pajama shirt

“Is Ms. L/n gonna be my mom?” Megumi asked, looking at Satoru with low, sleepy eyes.

Satoru thought back to the statement that popped into his head during dinner. You would make a great mom for him.

“Um,” Satoru started, tucking Megumi underneath his comforter. “I dunno yet.”

He was honest. He didn’t know if what he was feeling for you was real or if he was just in over his head.

“I hope she is,” Megumi muttered, huffing out as his breathing turned into soft snores.

“Me too, Megs.”

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @kazuminari @goldenglow149 + @torusmochi

Send in a ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #gojo headcanons #gojo hcs #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou fluff #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #satoru gojo headcanons #satoru gojo hcs

[wosoamazing]

Surprise

Summary: You surprise your Ma for her birthday.

A/N: Just a short one, based off this request.

It was the day before international break, a period of time in which Katie’s Birthday feel, she was upset that yet again your little family would be split on a birthday, little did she know that your Mum was planning to come visit her, she had arranged with Tony to have a break however that was after the team had already been announced, so she asked Tony to wait until the day she surprised Katie to announce that she was no longer available.

“What if I just don’t go to camp this time, they’re only friendlies” she said as she opened a present.

“Katie, babe, no, you should go, it will be okay. Oh, and also you will get your main present on your Birthday” Caitlin said, she of course knew what this was, it was you and her, but Katie didn’t.

“What is it?” “You will have to wait to find out”.

_____

“Which plane ours?” You ask your Mum, you were standing on the window looking out at the planes in the lounge, Steph and Kyra were with you, as always, except for some reason you didn’t have nearly as many bags as them, where usually you would have more than them.

“We aren’t getting on a plane today, Monkey.” She replies, “But why?”

“Because we are going to fly to Ireland tomorrow, so we can surprise Ma for her Birthday,” your Mum informs you excitedly.

“So why we here then?” “To send her photos like we always do so she doesn’t get suspicious. We’re tricking her into thinking we are going to Matilda’s camp”.

“But you say tricking is bad” you pout.

“Well, most of the time it is, but this time it’s for a good reason, so it isn’t bad”.

“Because Ma is sad, she won’t see us on her birfday and if we go and see her she will get all happy?” you question trying to make sense of the situation “Exactly” “kay”

_____

“PLANE!” You exclaim as you watch a plane take off.

“Shh, Monkey, inside voice, people are trying to work and relax,” she tells you softly in your ear before she turns to a group of businesspeople near her, “I am so sorry, she is just very excited, we are going to surprise her Ma today, she is currently away for work, and its her birthday today,”

“Oh no, it’s sweet, and that is such a cute thing to do,” one of the Women say.

“It’s alright, we’re not really doing anything that important, trying to figure out what colour to use for our design, but I’m sure Katie will be happy to see you. Oh god I sound like a stalker, my daughter is an avid football fan, she plays and wants to become a professional”. The man who seems to the boss says.

“That’s okay, but I am sorry, if I ever see you at a game, I’ll make sure to say hi,”

“Thank you, we are actually coming to the first game after international break,”

“Well, I’ll keep a look out and maybe I’ll have a gift for her”.

“Now boarding flight BA830 to Dublin, flight BA830 boarding now”

“Oh, that’s us, nice meeting you all sorry for the noise again,” your Mum picked you up and headed to your gate, you got checked in and sat on the plane, it wasn’t a verry long flight, but you still fell asleep, something about planes sends you to sleep, you had also not slept much last night as you were excited about seeing your Ma.

_____

There was a car in the pick-up spot waiting for you, your Mum had asked Eileen if it was okay if she did surprise your Ma, she was nervous that Eileen would say no as it might cause some tension/drama in the team but Eileen said absolutely, she even offered a driver to pick you up from the airport and take you to the grounds, your Mum had said it’s okay but Eileen said it was the least she could do,

You got in a car with you Mum, which stopped outside a local flower shop, you went inside with her and helped her pick out the biggest and bestest bouquet for your Ma, after you had purchased it, you got back into the car. After about 3 minutes you were there.

“You ready?” “See Ma!”

Eileen was on the sidelines, near where you were entering, when she saw you, she yelled out “Katie, can you come over here for a sec,” you Ma turned around and started jogging before she saw you and stopped, her mouth dropped before she crocked out "Y/N/N, Cait".

“Ma,” you said as you started running as fast as your little legs could go, when you neared her, she put her arms out and you jumped into them, she lifted you up to give you a big hug before perching you on her hip, your Mum wasn’t far behind her.

“Happy Birthday my love,” your Mum said as she placed a kiss on your Mums lips and hugged her, before putting her arm around her shoulders. “How?” “That doesn’t matter now does it, we’re here.” “I love you so much, thank you for surprising me and for coming” your Ma said as a few tears left her eyes, but Caitlin was quick to wipe them away.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine

[slut4msby]

flower shop girl. miya osamu x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; not proofread

+ a/n; i wrote this at 2am last night as the idea came to me as i tried to sleep so keep that in mind </3

“Just go give him some flowers Y/N it doesn’t have to be in a romantic way, just a nice neighbourly worker gesture!” Your coworker, Emi suggested.

“I’m pretty sure Osamu-san would take it the wrong way, Emi…” 

“But Osamu-san brings us onigiri all the time! So it’s not weird unless you make it weird, Y/N.”

You couldn’t deny your feelings towards Osamu have grown since you started working at the florist. It started with you going to get some lunch and wanting to try “Onigiri Miya” which was located across the road from your work. All your coworkers could only ever speak positively about Osamu’s onigiri. And after trying it you could not blame him. The onigiri was a masterpiece, it was a perfect triangular delight that fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. The outer layer was crafted from expertly seasoned sticky rice. The rice was perfect, not too dry nor too mushy. When the nori seaweed wrapping peeled back a symphony of flavours unfold. It felt as if Osamu had crafted a masterpiece with something as simple as Onigiri. 

However, it wasn’t just the onigiri that stirred something within you; it was Osamu Miya himself. Osamu was fine. More than fine to be honest, he himself was like a Greek god. His physique from his volleyball days had slightly decreased since quitting and pursuing the store, but he was still in beautiful shape. The black Onigiri Miya shirt hugged his body just right. His hair was always slightly messy when he came over to the florists from the Onigiri Miya hat. Not only was he hot, he was funny. Everytime you would see him he would crack some jokes that never failed to put a smile on your face. Not only that despite his more dead-pan face, Osamu was great with his customers. He knew them like the back of his hands, he cared, was passionate and he was funny. God, the true triple threat.

“Plus if Osamu finds it cute, maybe your little crush will go further~.” Emi teased.

You gave her a nasty side-eye in return to her snarky comment. “Okay fine, I’ll bring some flowers to Osamu-san after my shift, if that will make you shut it.” Emi’s face lit up at the comment, “BUT. There is a catch. I get to tell Osamu-san it is a gift from the store for all the onigiri he gives us. Deal?”

“Fine, deal.”

“So… Emi… What flowers do I give Osamu-san?” You say awkwardly.

“Well I would recommend tulips - pink tulips in particular if you don’t want it to be romantic. They convey good wishes, yet non-romantic love and affection. Or maybe some daffodils! To celebrate new beginnings and goo-” Emi rambled.

“Y’know what Emi? I think I’ll just make a bouquet myself…” you mumble as you walk off.

You loved Emi but god she could get on your nerves. 

You begin taking your time putting together a bouquet for Osamu. Nothing romantic, but also beautiful enough to put the wrong idea in Osamu’s head. It wasn’t supposed to be romantic, just a nice gesture. Despite your admiration for Osamu, you barely knew the guy. He could have a girlfriend or even worse a wife. And you were no home-wrecker. You had finally decided on a bouquet with pinks and whites, with pink carnations, white roses and baby's breath flowers. It was simple, effective and didn't give Osamu the wrong idea, perfect.

“Emi-chan I’m clocking out now~” You call out to your coworker.

“Don’t forget your bouquet, Y/N-san! I’m sure Osamu is going to fall head over heels for you and you two will have like the cutest romance story ever! And I Can say I planned it ALL and I better be a bridesmaid and-” 

“Yup, okay Emi.” You say giving her a weak smile and a wave as you walk out.

You crossed the road and walked into Onigiri Miya, the bell jingling as the door opened. Osamu raised his head to greet the customer who entered.

“Welcome! Ho- Oh, it’s one of the flower shop girls. What can I do for ya?” He smiled.

“Oh Osamu-san! I have a gift for you from m- us over at the flower shop because your always so nice to us and bring us onigiri and stuff and we just wanted to say thank you and-” 

He cuts you off from your awkward mess of a speech, “Thanks flower shop girl.” He said walking over to you, grabbing the flowers from your hand. “And don’t ya worry yer pretty little head about it, sweetheart.” He examined the bouquet in front of him, looking at the array of flowers. “It’s beautiful…?”

“L/N Y/N.”

“It’s beautiful, L/N-san. What flowers did ya use?” Osamu asks out of curiosity. 

“Oh well I used white roses which you can obviously see, and some baby’s breath. The pink touch is some pink carnations, my personal favourite flower! They also express gratitude and stuff… so it’s cool I guess…”

“Well I am super grateful for the gift, L/N.” Osamu smiled.

“Oh uhm… You’re welcome! I have to get going now, Osamu-san!” You say waving as you speed walk to the door. Osamu just waves in confusion in response to your awkward actions.

“God Y/N, why are you so awkward?” You silently cuss yourself out as you walk away.

Days have passed since your very awkward flower delivery to Osamu. The interaction still haunts your mind like a bad dream, that’s what you wished it was. As you care for the flowers towards the back of the door, a familiar figure walks in. Osamu Miya. Just your luck, you gave him an awkward smile before continuing your work. Osamub slowly walks over to your coworker, Maki.

“How can I help you Miya-san?” Maki asks.

“Just wondering if you have any bouquets of pink carnations?” Osamu says, looking around the store, attempting to find some.

“Oh we just got some in before, they are a popular choice at the moment. Y/N sells them quite well, they are her favourite after all.” Maki smiles.

“Well Y/N has some good taste then, they are also a personal favourite of mine.” 

“Really! I would not expect that from you Miya! You give off like jasmine vibes.” Maki laughs.

“I only recently found out what carnations are, a very pretty girl said they were her favourite and they just remind me of ‘er.”

A red blush swipes over your face at Osamu’s comment. Were you , the pretty girl? Surely not. Carnations are a common favourite flower and Osamu must know lots of pretty girls, I mean just take a look at him.

Osamu continues his chat with Maki, checking out for his bouquet of flowers. “Thanks so much Miya-san!”

However, Osamu doesn’t leave the store, his steps bring him towards you. He holds the bouquet out towards you, “here flower shop girl. Heard ya like ‘em.”

“Oh really?” You sarcastically respond.

“Yeah, a friend told me.” He jokes back, “a friend also told me I should ask you out on a date, pretty girl. So whatdya say?”

“I’d love to, Osamu.” You smile shyly.

“Tomorrow night at 7pm. Are you free?”

“For you? I guess I could make some time…” 

©slut4msby.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #lea's stories :3 #slut4msby #osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya #miya twins #onigiri miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu fluff #haikyuu angst #miya osamu fic #miya osamu x reader

[spdrslayr]

001. atsv headcanons ! ★ jonathon ohnn & miguel o’hara both falling for the reader…

⁀➷ srcs... masterlist . rules . intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ for the sake of this scenario, miguel and johnathon are working for alchemax in the same universe at the same time. miguel is a geneticist and johnathon is a physicist. you, my dear reader, are the cute receptionist!🥺

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; au; miguel o'hara; spider-man 2099; johnathon ohnn; the spot; love triangle; jealousy; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> jealousy, slightly implied age gap, cursing

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> woo my first post yay!! anyways requests are open for johnathon ohnn, miguel o'hara, and hobie brown if y'all are interested <3 my masterlist n rules are still a wip so stay tuned for that!

both men love their work but it still stresses the hell out of them. they’d enter and leave work exhausted. but then you started working at alchemax. you - with your bright smile and glittering eyes. most of the scientists and associates were drawn to you, but miguel and johnathon were on a whole nother level.

johnathon definitely fell first. it was daunting when someone he found attractive was being so sweet to him. jonathon’s usually too stuck in his own little world to care about such frivolities, so you were something special.  

★ he’s been late so many times because he’d chat with you for too long at your desk. at first he stumbled on his words with you, struggling to maintain eye contact while simultaneously trying not to stare too hard. now you’re one of the few people he feels comforting rambling to, because he knows you’re listening ★ johnathon loves it when you’d call him “doctor,” despite him insisting on his first name. sensing that air of respect from you makes him feel good about himself. ★ he takes great pride in making you laugh and smile with every chance he gets. this physicist has a vast arsenal of cheesy jokes, bad puns, and cute pick-up lines.  ★ he visits you throughout the day whenever he can, and tries to muster up the courage to have lunch with you. you’re young and gorgeous and out of his league but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. and then miguel o'hara came back from his business trip.

miguel didn’t care for the last receptionist. she was rude and lazy and got his name wrong. so it was a pleasant surprise when he was greeted by you instead. 

★ at first, your peppiness was too much for him, especially in the morning. he’d brush off your attempts at conversation and only mumble back to you when needed. such is the way of the resident grump at alchemax. but eventually, you wormed your way into his heart by remembering how he likes his coffee and staying up to help him on late nights in the lab. ★ miguel had to admit, you were a joy to have around. …and very very nice to look at. miguel's had a few serious relationships in the past, but they never ended well. since then he’s only indulged in one-night stands and temporary hook-ups. but he refused to look at you so fleetingly.  ★ miguel started bringing you expensive bouquets of flowers for your desk, along with sweet little notes. he’s obsessed with the scent of your vanilla perfume. he wants to be your hero, there to open every door, pull out every chair, and drive away any creep. for him, creeps include johnathon.

johnathon wasn’t concerned when he’d see other scientists and workers flirt with you. he wholeheartedly believed you two had a special connection that couldn’t be replicated. but seeing miguel turn you into a blushing stuttering mess proved him wrong. there was competition closer than he thought, and if he didn’t act quickly, he’d lose you for good.

★ johnathon felt deeply insecure in comparison to miguel. dr. o’hara’s movie star face & dreamy hair made him feel like crap.  ★ miguel clearly had way more experience in dating, always flirting with you so smoothly. johnathon on the other hand, is pretty sure he’s stuck in the friendzone with you. so he decided to experiment with bolder methods of winning your heart. ★ jonathon’s been more direct, showering you with compliments and buying you lunch whenever he could. he made it abundantly clear that he was single and that he liked you very much. you were his favorite person at alchemax, and for good reason.

miguel honestly thinks johnathon’s annoying as fuck. once john accidentally spilled hot coffee onto miguel on a very bad day, and he’s been bitter ever since. in the past johnathon would be friendly, but miguel would brush him off. who the hell is this lanky ass nerd and why is he hovering over him in HIS lab? 

★ now he’s wondering why the geek is messing with his love now. it pisses him off, not just because johnathon knows he feels the same about you, but how john makes you happier than he’s ever seen you be. miguel’s flirty, and funny in his own, stubborn way, but he lacked johnathon’s endearing dorky nature that had you hooked. ★ miguel is soooo grumpy lmao ★ really johnny is such a silly sweet guy while miguel, mr. give everything 1000% over here is fighting for his life. it took miguel a whole ass week to come up with a joke as good as johnathon’s that made you laugh your ass off. my guy is trying waaay too hard.

at first, miguel confronts johnathon kindly. he’s sympathetic and straight to the point - they both hold the same intentions towards you, but only one of them can win. he can tell that johnathon’s a good guy, with a big heart, so he’d understand… right?

★ “i’m in love with them, dr. ohnn. this isn’t just a silly crush. so either help me, or please refrain from getting in my way.” ★ “no, i’m good.” ★ “...you’re WHAT?”

war!!!!! miguel is a bitch to johnathon. dr. octavius has to give johnathon advice on how to win you over and how to fend off miguel. he’s gotten a lot better at brushing off miguel’s judgemental comments and acting unbothered by them.

although it’s not like johnathon isn’t cunty either. when he makes you laugh sometimes it’s because he’s making fun of miguel behind his back. he has a killer miguel impression that puts the original to shame.

★ “ugh, my shoulders are too broad and muscular. it’s so hard being so fit.” ★ “johnny!! he’s coming this way!” ★ “i work out every single part of my body at the gym. i do forehead pushups to keep my hairline in check.” ★ “JOHNNY-”

as long as a certain collider project goes swimmingly, and a radioactive spider stays in it’s fucking lane,  you’ll end up with one of them.

…unless…? ;)

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv miguel #johnathon ohnn #jonathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn #the spot #johnathon ohnn x reader #jonathan ohnn x reader #the spot x reader #atsv the spot #atsv #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader

[healmyhrt]

could you make a head cannons of dating matt sturniolo? i love your page! 🖤

tysmmmm! 💘 i got lots of requests for this so enjoy :3

⌗ how i think it would be dating matt sturniolo.

late night drives — matt will always stay up however late he needs to just in case you want to go for a drive and clear your head.

going on dates — matt is an absolute romantic when it comes to going on dates. he’ll hand pick flower bouquets, dress nice, and make your favorite foods or take you to your favorite restaurants, and make the entire night about you.

sidewalk rule — the second you step onto a sidewalk, matt would immediately move you to the inside and have a tight grip on your hand, insuring you’re never in danger.

gift giving — you may have planned on giving no gifts to each other, but he’ll always surprise you with something, whether it’s big or small. he always wants to make you feel special and make sure you know that you have the biggest place in his heart.

facetiming — although matt isn’t a big facetimer, he’ll always answer the phone when you call, even if it’s something little.

playlist sharing — it was your idea to start sharing a playlist with one another since matt’s music taste is very similar to yours. and he constantly plays the playlist on your night drives.

pillow talk — matt’s always half asleep when you begin talking to him late at night, but he’ll sit up straight to wake himself up so he can fully listen to you.

jealousy — now matt isn’t the type to get jealous like that… but don’t get him wrong, he can be jealous if you want him to be.

playing games — matt trash talks you in almost every game you play, but in the end—he’ll always let you win.

privacy — you both prefer to keep your relationship offline, and for the most part the fans respect your boundaries… but when some overstep, matt will always be there to support you and protect you from them.

late night munchies — hungry at 2am? so is matt most likely. he’ll get up and drive you both to the nearest gas station to pick up whatever snacks your heart desires.

movie night — matt may come off as a “tough guy” sometimes, but when it comes to movie night, he’s just as bad as you when he cries to romantic sappy movies.

matching fits — it’s always his idea to match and color coordinate outfits, no matter where you’re going, some piece of the outfit will be correlated with his.

matching nails — matt’s big on fully polished nails, so he got the idea one day to get a matching set with you, and ever since then, every set he gets matches yours.

letting you do his makeup — straddling his lap while you brush makeup onto his skin, matt will sit underneath you, admiring your beauty and just getting lost with a smile.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

[traumxrei-archive]

【 not-so-secret admirer 】

NRC launches lockers for valentine's day where students can anonymously place gifts for their crushes. Now it was only a matter of not getting caught by said crush... (ft. jamil viper, ace trappola, floyd leech)

gn! prefect, word count: 2.2k

a/n: happy (belated) valentines day !! bringing you basketball club boys and extra soft valentine's day fluff ^^ good luck to everyone who's weak to fluff <3

jamil viper

When Jamil first heard about the Valentine lockers, his mind did flash to a certain resident of Ramshackle. But he desperately pushed the image out of his mind, telling himself that he was too busy. Which was technically the truth. He barely had time to himself that week, with how the assignments were starting to overlap with his extracurriculars.

But still, he…managed to make something. Combining some alchemy into cooking, he made a small box of chocolates that wouldn't melt unless eaten, complete with fillings that he knew the Prefect would enjoy.

It was his intention to give it to them. If he ran across them in the hallways he would give it to them, he told himself. If he found himself somewhere near the lockers, then he would put the gift in their locker.

But what Jamil wasn't expecting was for Kalim, of all people to send him to the lockers.

"C'mon, Jamil!" Kalim said cheerily. "I've already checked mine and I got lots of nice messages, so you should check yours." At his pointed stare, the white-haired added, "H-hey, I didn't eat any of the chocolate, I promise!"

So that was how Jamil ended up in front of the dreaded Valentine's lockers. He stared at them dejectedly as he started to walk toward where the second-year lockers were.

And that was when he spotted the Prefect, pacing a few meters away. He stopped in his tracks, the box of chocolates feeling that much heavier in their presence.

He couldn't help but call their name, despite his nervousness, "Prefect." Their eyes met his and they froze lightly, clearly not expecting there to be another person around.

"O-oh, Jamil," They said, a nervous undercurrent running through their words. "What brings you here?"

"I was about to check my locker," Jamil carefully eyed the flowers in their arms. "Did you come back from checking yours?" The flowers were beautiful, blooms of lilies and carnations artfully arranged into one bouquet.

"Huh?" He saw how their shoulders jumped— a strange, almost knee-jerk reaction. "Oh, this is– it isn't for me."

"Ah," Jamil couldn't help but swallow, a suffocating feeling starting to grow in his chest because…his crush liked someone else. He couldn't show them that he was sad. He looked away from the bouquet, and his eyes— unfortunately— landed on the locker that they were standing in front of.

"Were you….about to give those flowers to Riddle?" Jamil knew he shouldn't ask. He knew that it would only hurt him more if he knew the details, and yet he didn't take back his words. Silence stretched out between them and Jamil wanted nothing more than to leave.

But then they spoke.

"The…flowers," Their words were so very careful, their eyes flicking back and forth between him and the flowers. "They're actually for you."

For…him?

The pressure in his chest lifted, and he exhaled in disbelief. His eyes scanned the lockers and sure enough, his name was one away from where they were standing. Did that mean what he so desperately wanted to believe that it meant?

And maybe Jamil had been too quiet for far too long because they started elaborating, "Well, I did stop in front of your locker earlier, and I was just worried that you wouldn't…like it…so–"

"Actually," Jamil interrupted, closing the gap between them just a little. "I was here to put this in someone's locker too."

He pulled out the box of chocolates, gathering his courage before meeting their eyes, "But since you're already right in front of me, it's better if I gave it to you personally, right?"

There was a stunned smile on their face that Jamil wanted to commit to memory, the butterflies kicking in his stomach as he took the bouquet into his arms. He half-wanted to put the flowers aside, and take them into his arms to hold; if only to convince himself this was real. But he didn't have to, not when they had already tentatively taken his hand in theirs.

The corner of his own lips turned upward as he pressed a lingering kiss to their knuckles, "So…would you be mine, ya ruuhi?"

note: > lilies mean "affection for loved ones" and carnations mean "fascination and love" in flower language ^^ > ya ruuhi means "my soul" in arabic >:D

ace trappola

The Prefect was…being shifty today. That wasn't a regular thing, no. Usually, the people being shifty was Grim, and that was usually because he didn't do some assigned homework and was going to copy off someone else. (Not that Ace wouldn't do the same.)

But Ace couldn't help but notice the way they flinched every time he was near, the strained smile and the way they kept glancing at him. He feigned ignorance because it was better if they didn't realize he noticed.

If he didn't know any better, he would say that he was making them nervous. But why would the Prefect of all people, be nervous because of him?

Today was Valentine's day, wasn't it…? That was when it clicked.

Ace let a smug smile settle on his face. Maybe…the Prefect liked him? So they were going to confess to him on Valentine's Day? The feeling of fondness all but ballooned in his chest as he waited for them to pull him to the side and confess.

But his impatience getting the best of him as the day came to a close. Was he reading the signs wrong after all? Did he really fool himself into thinking that his crush on the Prefect was requited?

And that was when Ace, while most definitely not sulking at all, saw them turning a corner. Curious, Ace followed behind them, watching as they scanned the lockers, a wrapped gift in hand.

And before he could stop himself, he walked up to them, snatching the box with a smirk, "Now that's just boring~"

"Wh– Ace Trappola! Give that back."

He held it out of their reach, "I mean, if you wanna confess, at least have the guts to say it out loud. Isn't confessing anonymously kinda cheating?" He glanced at the lockers, finding his name right in front of where he was standing. But he needed them to say it out loud for him to beleive it.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about," They huffed, finally leveling him with a less-than-friendly glare. "Now give it back."

"Don't wanna~" Ace said, leaning into their space a little more. "Besides, aren't these for me anyway?"

"How did you–?" They smacked a hand against their own mouth and Ace couldn't help but laugh. Half because he found the whole situation funny, and half because he was glad that he wasn't wrong. There was a pout on their face when he was finally done laughing.

He was grinning ear-to-ear now, spinning the box like it was a basketball, "It doesn't take a genius to figure out, with the way you were acting, Prefect. So, you like me that much, huh?"

"A terrible choice, I know," They said, shoving at his shoulder lightly. "Open it then, Mr. Genius."

Ace carefully tugged at the ribbon, the paper falling away to reveal a familiar-looking box of chocolates. He inhaled sharply, "No way— Did you get me those chocolates I was raving about a few months back?" He distantly remembered bragging about the expensive box of cherry-filled chocolates that his parents got him for Christmas, but he wasn't expecting this.

"Well…you said you wanted them." Their reaction was far too nonchalant for Ace's liking, and he had to hide the flush that was threatening to take over his face at the thought of them remembering such a trivial thing.

"That's so…stupid," Ace huffed, ruffling their hair wildly. "But…thank you." He felt the butterflies kicking wildly in his stomach when they smiled at him, and he knew he had to do something, or else he would end up doing something embarrassing.

"Wanna skip studying and do something fun?" The words were out of his mouth in a rush, and he felt a plan formulating in his mind as he grinned. "C'mon, I'll pay for snacks. And you're not gonna refuse your new boyfriend, right?"

floyd leech

Floyd wasn't the type to be concerned over a trivial holiday like Valentine's Day. But being unconcerned didn't mean he was completely uninterested. Contrary to popular belief, Floyd Leech did think about mushy stuff like feelings. Especially since he realized his feelings toward one particular shrimp…

Floyd grinned sunnily, staring at the hoard of people in front of the Valentine's lockers. He wondered if Shrimpy was among those minnows. Then again, why would they be? Surely they weren't going to give anyone a gift today…right?

He turned a corner, his feet bringing him to Class 1-A's lockers. There seemed to be a buzz happening in front of one of the lockers. Floyd meandered closer, ignoring the way the minnows paled upon seeing him.

Once he finally got to the front of the crowd, he could see students taking turns placing different gifts into an overly-full locker. Floyd tilted his head in contemplation. Who in Class 1-A was that popular? It couldn't possibly be Crabby, right? Sure, he bragged about being popular, but there was no way Floyd ever believed in his words.

That was when someone managed to wrangle the locker shut with a particularly loud slam, and Floyd caught a glimpse of the name on the locker.

It was his Shrimpy's name. Floyd blinked, eyes going from the name on the locker to the gifts that lined even the outside of the locker. His Shrimpy was that popular…?

To which his brain answered with, of course they were that popular. It was natural that someone who resembled sunlight dancing across the ocean's surface would be popular. If Floyd's face split with a grin at the very sight of them, then of course there were others who felt the same.

And just like that, Floyd's jovial mood had flipped itself on its head. He shoved out of the crowd, uncaring of the stares that followed him as he scowled. He didn't know who he was upset with, simply that he was upset because Little Shrimp really was too far out of his reach.

In his state, he didn't notice someone calling for him until a hand touched his arm, "Floyd…?" Floyd's head snapped toward the voice, finding the little shrimp standing there wide-eyed.

Seeing them right in front of him put a bitter taste on his tongue, "Go away, Shrimpy." That wasn't what he meant to say. But if they didn't go away, then he was going to do something stupid.

"Did something happen?" Shrimpy asked, glancing him over. "You don't look hurt."

He rolled his eyes, "Why dontcha go play with all your fans instead?" He saw a frown stretch on their face, their brows wrinkling at his harsh words. And he so badly wanted to reach over to smooth their brow but instead he looked away.

"Floyd Leech, just what are you talking about?"

"It's just…Shrimpy's so popular," It felt childish to complain about such a thing in front of them. "'N it's not fair, because…" Because what? Because Floyd harbored feelings for them that he never confessed? Those other minnows didn't know that. He couldn't exactly blame them.

"Ah," They snapped their fingers. "Are you upset that I got more gifts than you? At the lockers?"

Floyd groaned, "No way—"

"Here," They held up a box for him to take. "For you."

Floyd took the box gingerly, still frowning all the while, "Shrimpy, if this is a pity gift, Imma squeeze the life outta you." Still, a part of him still hoped that there was a chance.

He opened the gift, untying the bow and lifting the lid. Inside was…a scarf. Teal in color, he could see an eel motif in the scarf's design, a dopey smiley face, and a tail at either end of the scarf.

When he looked up, the Little Shrimp this cute nervous expression on their face, "I told you it was for you. It's just…I thought you wouldn't…get to know it was from me."

…Oh.

So they were on their way to gift this to him? Anonymously? Well now he really wanted to squeeze them.

And so he did, he dropped the box with a laugh, snaking his arms around them, "Shrimpy~ I love it~ How'd you even find that thing~?"

"I-I made it," They confessed, looking a little startled by the sudden embrace. "You said you didn't like the grey scarves of your dorm uniform, right?"

"Aha, I remember that," Floyd rubbed his cheek against their head, feeling so elated with the fact that they were here for him. Him. Shrimpy liked Floyd Leech and not any of those other minnows.

"Hey, Shrimpy~" Floyd grinned once more. "Doesn't that mean we're dating now?"

"Wait, you like me back?" They squeezed out, and it was Floyd's turn to be disappointed.

"C'mon Shrimpy, I thought you'd figure it out by now," Floyd shook his head before picking up the scarf. "Then shouldn't we do something to celebrate? Ooh, how about we go to the Lounge and raid Jade's snack box? And I've gotta show off to the world that Shrimpy's made me such a cool scarf~" Floyd tugged them along as he rambled about their plans. They piped up a couple of times, but other than that, they seemed happy enough to be lead wherever he wanted.

Good. There was no need for them to go to their locker. He could buy them all that and more, now that they were his.

ty ty for reading all these valentine's drabbles ? ficlets ? valentine's stories !! if you enjoyed and would like to read more of my works, come check out my masterlist <3

#/trau writes #jamil viper #ace trappola #floyd leech #jamil viper x reader #ace trappola x reader #floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #me when it's not valentine's day but it doesn't matter #fluff is justice ! #and valentine's fluff is justice x10 #:)))))

[theemporium]

💰 charles finds your olddd Pinterest boards filled with things little you once wanted. so of course, he buys them all for you. one by one each day until you start realising what they are🤣 charles loving & spoiling even little inner child you <3

like… is that a PONY??

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It was subtle at first.

Charles was a giver in every sense of the word, and that was something you had come to learn and appreciate over the time you knew each other. However, for a relationship that started on the foundation of him buying you gifts, it wasn’t particularly odd for him to splurge some money on you for pointless reasons whenever he felt like it.

You were used to the bouquet of flowers. 

You were used to the small pieces of jewellery. 

You were used to the fancy dinners at high-end restaurants. 

However, when Charles handed you a box with a very old but familiar pair of designer heels you remembered seeing all over the magazine covers when you were in school, it did make you raise your eyebrows a little. 

But Charles kissed away any second thoughts or questions you had before grinning widely, telling you he hoped you would wear them to the restaurant he was taking you to that night. And truthfully, you didn’t think twice about them as you thanked him for the gift. 

Yet, slowly but surely, more of his gifts started making you a little suspicious. 

You loved your boyfriend. You truly did. But he was never the most observant in real life despite his skills in a car, and you highly doubted that he just happened to remember all these random conversations you apparently had months ago. The mere fact he would use that excuse every time you questioned it should have been reason enough for you to know something was up. 

However, the confrontation didn’t happen until Charles had driven you out of Monaco, into some nice countryside in the south of France. 

“You bought me a what?!” 

Charles grinned proudly as he gestured to the building around you, surrounded by large fields that disappeared into the horizon. “A stable!”

“Charles,” you started but the words died in your throat as you tried to take it all in. You could hear the horses inside, neighing and huffing and probably wanting to be let out into the fields rather than the stalls they were currently resting in. Hell, the fact there was more than one was overwhelming.

“I even got your favourite kind of horse!” Charles continued, just making your confusion grow. 

“My favourite kind of horse?” You questioned with your brows furrowed together.

“Yes, it’s all black like the one in—” However, before he could even finish his sentence, he cut himself off. His eyes widened like he realised he said something he shouldn’t have, and that suspicion in you spiked once again.

“Like the one in what?” You questioned, though he remained silent. “Like the one in what, Charles?” 

“Nothing,” he tried to laugh it off.

“Charles.”

His cheeks flushed a pretty pink colour as his expression grew sheepish. “I…found one of your old moodboard things. On that app you sometimes use.” 

And your heart melted when you realised what exactly he found. An old Pinterest board you had started in your early teens and added to throughout the years until your early twenties. It was a collection of desires and wishes you had made growing up, a place for you to put the things you always considered unattainable.

And here you had a boyfriend checking everything off the board like it was a list.

“Charles,” you murmured softly as you moved closer, your arms wound around his neck before you placed your lips on his. “You’re so incredibly sweet.”

“I just want to make you happy, mon amour,” he murmured back with a soft smile on his lips.

“You make me happy,” you assured him.

“Then I have done my job well.”

.

#cece's slumblurb party #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[ineylesian]

need your hcs on girl dad ghost PLEASEEE 🙏🙏

girldad! ghost has my whole heart <33

GIRLDAD! GHOST who spends countless hours of his off days lounging on the couch with his baby girl sleeping on his chest <33 especially when you’re perched against the end he’s facing, his favorite girl’s nails gently carding through his hair as a movie plays in the background.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who is so incredibly protective over his girls, but knows his boundaries. You two are the most important things in the world to Simon, and he can’t help but fret you two being safe and happy at all times. This comes with constant nagging over little things, especially the boys your daughter sees. When he found out about his daughter’s first heartbreak, Simon bought her a bouquet of roses, all of her favorite snacks, and a small teddy bear holding a heart to its chest. For a solid week, he grumbled about how he knew that guy wouldn’t treat her right and how he better hope he never runs into him.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who shows up to every one of his daughter’s events he can make. He cleans up nicely, devoid of the mask as not to scare or unsettle anyone. Nothing makes his daughter more proud than seeing her dad in the stands of her games holding a handcrafted sign just for her <3. If she plays an instrument, Ghost will happily sit with her as she practices and tell her how well she plays <3. Any hobby she does brings him joy to no end, especially if she takes it up from her mother.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who probes every guy that enters his house. His handshake is firm, hardened gaze practically melting into the poor boy’s skull as he nervously introduces himself. Simon interrogates the boy all throughout dinner, his own little assessment to see if he approves or not. If he doesn’t pass, much to you and your daughter’s dismay, his daughter’s “boyfriend” won’t be making it past dinner and will be very passive aggressively shown the door.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who takes you and your daughter out in the woods to shoot a few times a month. As a soldier, Simon is skilled with weapons of all kinds and wants you both to know how to use them in an emergency. He needs reassurance that the two of you will be able to defend yourselves if he’s not around; knowing you’re not helpless lets him sleep at night when he’s not home.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who writes in individual letters home to you and your daughter while deployed. He makes sure to ask how his little girl is doing while he’s away, hopefully not having too much fun without him, while telling her how much he misses her. He’ll tell her about all of the sights he’s seen wherever he’s been in the world, asking her if she’d be interested in going someplace far when he gets home, a little family vacation maybe. In your letter, Simon makes sure to tell you how much he loves you, and how he can’t wait until he’s home so he can see both of his precious girls <3.

i love him so much :(((

NAVIGATION

#arqhms #🎃 arqhmsfall23 #girldad! ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod mw22 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley headcanons #call of duty

[bedoballoons]

Thank you @swivy123 for the request!! I hope you enjoy!! Normally I prefer up to 5 characters! A couple less or more is okay though! Some of them are a bit short though...<3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Hybrid reader~༺}

CW: fluffy!, Reader has ears and a tail! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon chérie, my sweet, Kazuha: My dear, Venti: Beautiful)

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Xiao, Kazuha, Venti, Scaramouche, and Cyno!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Your tail wagged back and forth with excitement, Lyneys top hat visible in the distance, bobbing slightly with every one of his steps and growing steadily closer as he made his way to you. Your body wiggled impatiently, you just missed him so much and you couldn't wait to see him again! He probably had so much to tell you, so many new magic tricks to share and you had requested he bring you a treat back...

"Forget it!" You bounced happily to him, unable to wait even a second longer and he didn't seem to mind, pulling you close and showering your face with kisses while you hummed in delight. "Mon chérie! I missed you so much, but alas it was worth it! I have a gift for you my sweet~" You gasped cutely, your cheeks blushing a light pink when he tipped his hat off his head, inside a bouquet of exotic flowers that smelled so heavenly and a box of treats for you to enjoy.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnaris tail swayed in sync with yours, the two of you embracing eachother after what felt like eons away from eachother, you couldn't even begin to explain everything that had happened and ask everything you wanted to know about his trip, so you simply settled on what you were feeling, "I missed you."

"I'd hope so."

"Tighnari!"

𑁍༄Xiao:

You squealed happily as Xiaos strong arms wrapped around you tightly from behind, his ability to randomly appear no longer a jumpscare but a welcomed surprised and as he kissed the top of your head, your fluffy ears flattening to give him room, you honestly wish he'd do so more often. "Xiao you should appear more often."

"...it doesn't frighten you anymore?"

"It was never truly scary Xiao! I just wasn't used to it. Now I am though and I want you to appear whenever you like." You turned around, smiling at his flustered expression, your tail swaying with love for him while you kissed his cheek.

𑁍༄Kazuha:

You held your tail in your hands, trying to stop it's insistent wagging to no avail, you were just overfilled with love and seeing Kazuha walk up to you with that sweet dazed face of his wasn't calming your animal features by any means.

"Hello my dear, missed me?"

"More than you could even imagine..."

𑁍༄Venti:

"Venti!!!" You called out, wrapping your arms around the bard while he chuckled in response, his laughs like a sweet melody that had you blushing and your tail wagging wildly. "I missed you too beautiful, you and your adorable little ears!" Venti touched your ears gently, making your cheeks go red and your heart skip a beat.

𑁍༄Scaramouche:

Scaramouche sighed as you jumped onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist and knocking his hat right off his head when you kissed his cheek, you just couldn't help it, you missed him! Your tail flicked around with excitement when he kissed your lips, not saying a word about missing you and yet...you knew he did, "Scara! How did your trip go? You didn't get hurt anywhere right?"

"To many questions...no I didn't get hurt and yes it was fine, it was a break from your overwhelming excitement..."

"Awwe you no you don't mean that! I think you like my excitement!"

"...whatever"

𑁍༄Cyno:

You snuggled your face into the crook of Cynos neck, his lips resting against your forehead as he placed multiple soft kisses against your skin, your heart to racing faster and faster with each one. Your ears twitched in delight, matching the crazed movements of your tail...it was just all so perfect.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #venti x reader #venti x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #cyno x you #cyno x reader

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

 “I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

“No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420, @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 #reinvent love