#fluffiest fluff

[floralembarrassment]

Sleep (1/1) (jegulus)

Regulus crawled into bed. He didn't care that it was early, he didn't care that the sun had barely set, he didn't care that James wasn't even home yet. He was exhausted, mentally, emotionally, physically. He just needed the day to be done.

Throwing on his favourite shorts and biggest sweatshirt, he wrapped himself up in blankets and surrounded himself with a nest of pillows. He laid in the middle of the bed and thought he would close his eyes and fall quickly to sleep, but as his eyes slipped closed his mind raced.

It raced about school and work and his friends. It played scenarios over in his head and rehearsed conversations yet to happen. He tossed and turned his body sore and stiff. When he checked the clock after what felt like hours it had only been 30 minutes.

Regulus told himself he could get up, have something to eat or watch tv in the living room. He didn't have to go to sleep now, he knew going to bed this early never worked anyway. But he couldn't bring himself to sit up or even gracelessly roll out of bed, so he just stayed.

He was cozy despite not being able to find a comfortable position. And he was still so tired so his attempts at reading failed rather quick, so he just looked up at the ceiling. He twiddled his thumbs and tried to quiet his mind.

When James did come home, he wasn't surprised by the quiet of the apartment. He was surprised when he found Regulus in bed.

"Hi love, everything alright?" James said softly when he entered the bedroom and Regulus waved slowly at him.

"Yes just tired but I can't sleep. I shouldn't have tried to come to bed so early but I couldn't keep my eyes open on the couch" Regulus explained.

He pushed himself half up in the bed, as James knelt beside it leaning his arms over the covers like in prayer. James took one of Regulus' hands and with his free hand ran his fingers through Regulus' curls.

"Do you need anything? Tea maybe?" James asked, half a fond smile on his face.

Regulus shook his head. "Just you once you're ready for sleep," he replied.

"Let me shower and I'll be right in. Today was very long," James said, and as he got up he pressed a kiss to Regulus' forehead.

The minute James was in bed, settled and had his arms wrapped around Regulus, his mind finally slowed. He laid with his head on James' chest, and fell fast asleep to the steady beat of James' heart and rhythmic rubbing of James' hand on his back. There was nothing as soothing as James and his love, and Regulus' whole body knew he couldn't miss it tonight.

[sunflouwerhabit]

IT’S FINE TO FAKE IT ‘TIL YOU MAKE IT (‘TIL IT’S TRUE)

sunflouwerhabit on ao3 | complete | 141k

Harry Styles @HarryStyles_KE

hi again! so, i wanted to apologize one more time for the whole “helogogjs good gksdjid” thing, and also say that i didn’t just accidentally open your DM’s when i wasn’t paying attention earlier. i sort of had a question about a tweet you posted yesterday? like. the whole “rent a boyfriend” thing? is that something you were serious about? and if so, how does one come to hire you to be their boyfriend? i’m, um, asking for a friend

*****

Harry dreads an impending visit to his hometown, where he’ll be forced to reunite with a newly engaged ex-boyfriend, a childhood best friend turned near stranger, and a family who never understood just how desperately he needed to leave.

In the midst of it all, a ludicrous Twitter proposition brings him to Louis.

*****

a larry fake dating au | strangers to friends to lovers pining | fluff fluff fluff | and some angst | but mostly fluff | happy ending | inordinate amount of taylor swift references | lou’s kangaroo truths

*****

we are now live from the bughouse.

[alder-saan]

Hyde and need

Larissa Weems x Hyde! reader

Not really a part 2, just an additional chapter (link to the original story)

Fluff

TW : borderline coded

Words count : ~400

You slowly opened your eyes. But your eyes saw nothing. It was dark, around you. Dark but not completely black, but you couldn’t spot the source of light. And after a few seconds, your eyes, accustomed to this darkness, began to distinguish, between the shadows, some forms, probably furniture. Where were you? In your room at the HDC? No, the window wasn’t on the same wall, and in your cell, there were blinds on it. Here, the long curtains let in the yellow light of some neon street lamps. Moreover, the sheets didn’t smell the antiseptic scent of the HDC ones. And it wasn't your room in your little flat either. It wasn’t your bed, nor your bedside table. On the floor, it was parquet, not plastic flooring. And… You had no rug.

A car passed by the house, and headlights pierced the night. The light slid against the wall, circling the room while the sound of the engine was getting away. Your gaze following the rotation of the illumination, you saw the room a little better. It was spacious, and comforting. You couldn’t know why you found it comforting. You knew you were in a safe place. But where? This window, this desk, this closet, this door, this painting, this other door seemed familiar. However your mind, still foggy from sleep, couldn’t remember. What time was it? You were thirsty. Behind the second door, you knew a bathroom. With a lazy wave of your hand, you pulled yourself out of the blanket and sat upright on the bed, yawning. 

Two arms embraced your waist.

You startled.

A sleepy whisper came out of the dark.

“Stay in bed, angel…”

The arms dragged you down to lay you on the bed, and then she pulled your body against her, spooning you. Her face sank in your hair, and she left several kisses on your neck.

“I love you, angel.”

Larissa. Now you remembered. It was Larissa’s room. How could you forget this room? Now you were connecting the dots. It was her perfume, her sheets, her bed, her bedside table, her window, her curtains, her rug, her closet, her doors, her bathroom. You snuggled up to her a little more, enjoying her breath against your spine.

“Riss’?”

“Mmh?”

“You promise you won’t leave me again?”

She placed sweet kisses on your shoulder.

“I promise,” she murmured, her lips against your skin, “now sleep. You need rest.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. She was here with you. Her body against yours, her arms wrapping you. Nothing else mattered.

[lebenspurpur]

AN: i felt very gay today. i am also trying to get back into writing, so have some Anna fluff.

warnings: none :)

The wooden door creaks as it falls shut. You shiver involuntarily as a gush of ice-cold air swaps into the room, chill seeping through your skin and into your bones. Nonetheless, you turn around, eager to greet the woman stepping inside the cabin.

Anna grunts in displeasure as the shakes the snow off of the furry coat she's wearing. A giggle escapes your lips at the grimace adoring her features.

"Cold?", the corners of your mouth shift into a roguish smile. You can't help but tease her sometimes.

"Be quiet.", the playful glint in her eyes betrays the seriousness of her gruff voice.

With a fleet glance over your figure, she turns around to get rid of her axe. The weapon clutters as it lands in the corner next to the door, forgotten for now. Her coat follows, carelessly thrown over the back of a chair. The snow coating it drips to the floor and melts into little puddles.

"Let me help you.", abandoning the tea you had been making, you step up to her and tenderly comb the remaining snow out of her dark hair. Dark eyes focus on your own, grazing over your face with an unreadable expression. You try not to get flustered as you focus on her hair, even though the slight tremble of your fingers is most likely giving you away.

You silently curse yourself as Anna's lips curve into a smug grin. So she did notice.

"Too close for you?", it is now her turn to tease, and you take a step back, trying to hide your sheepish smile with an arched brow.

"Be quiet.", you cite her words from earlier, cross your arms and turn around as she chuckles at your behavior.

Silence penetrates the air for a little, while before Anna walks over to the worn couch. Her steps are heavy and loud in the small cabin.

Grunting, the woman drops on the seat, lazily watching you work. She stretches her legs, boots dangerously close to the licking flames of the fire pit. You swear you can hear her moan softly as the warmth finally seeps into her skin.

A soft call of your name makes you raise your head and your eyes fall onto the Huntress' stretched out hands, beckoning you to join her. Warmth floods your chest at her blissful expression.

"Give me a second."

You take the teapot off the stove and turn it off, making sure you don't burn yourself with the hot iron, before you shuffle over to your lover.

Her hands find your body before you're even on the couch, wide palms pushing your hips in between her legs. You sigh as Anna kisses your abdomen, wet tresses of hair dampening your clothes.

"Missed you.", her words are muffled against your skin.

"I missed you, too.", with an adoring smile, you take her face into your hands, cupping her jaw as she looks up at you. Her gaze finds yours as your thumb soothes over her scarred cheek.

"Let me finish the tea, and then I'll join you here, hm?", you whisper, relishing in the way she leans into your touch.

Cold, strong hands on your waist pull a surprised yelp from you as she pulls you on top of her, arms locking you in place.

"Tea can wait.", she grumbles, kissing your collarbone as you weakly fight against her hold. Eventually, you still anyway and relax, savoring the feeling of her lips on your skin with the soft sound of crackling wood in the background.

Cold days in the red forest could be dangerous and cruel, but this one wasn't and for now, you'd cherish that.

[ashdreams2023]

Hi) I’m not rly sure if I should write my request here or somewhere else, but I loved your Loki x reader with wings hcs so could you please make Steven Grant x reader with wings or Bruno Madrigal x reader with wings hcs (or both if you feel like it) Pretty please )))) Sorry if it’s weird and thanks soooo much. Lots of love ❤️❤️❤️

The request is not weird at all dear!

Steven grant x reader with wings

He’s so intrigued by them, a little creeped out but still intrigued

He would watch to touch them but make sure you’re ok with it first

Loves LOVES when you warp both of you with them, it feels so comforting

When he’s cleaning his flat and sees some of your feathers on the ground he collects them in a box

If you try flying with him be prepared for a round of high pitched screaming

"Calm down I got you!" "Marc is better at this than me!!"

He’s always admiring how soft they look

Literally there’s a whole photo album on his phone for you when yourself sleeping

Not in a creepy way obviously, he tells you he thinks when you sleep with your wings around you, you look so cute

I can see him turning your fallen feathers into decoration for the flat

Even though you fly, he still panics when you sit on the edge of the balcony

Calls you silly bird or birdie, sometimes even Angel

At one point he gets comfortable enough to snuggle with you and let the wings cover him as well

[pursuitseternal]

“Stuff of Fairytales,” an unplanned one shot in response to @meohme-thedorklord ‘s Little Red Riding Hood inspired Haladriel art (link).

Daddybrand’s turn to put their daughter to bed with her favorite story, how Mommy met Daddy in the woods.

Just some tooth-rotting fluff, filled with a slightly sassy Celebrian, a patient and teasing Daddybrand, and a Happily Ever After to bring a smile to your face and some warm nostalgia to brighten your day or night 🐺❤️🛏️🥱

No smut, but a goodnight kiss for our Mum and Dad was a must.

[sporthb1]

Brain: here have a dream where your nan is alive and it will make you cry so much

Me now awake: Internet gays I need your fluff! All the fluff I need to drown in it!

[d-llahanspade]

Woof

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 4: Lost In Moonlight

Chp. 4 Summary: You couldn't deny Joel any longer. You needed him. Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: SMUT (finally), unprotected piv sex, nipple play, cock riding, cum eating, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), aftercare, heavy kissing, mentions of past emotional abuse, soft!joel, so much FLUFF!!! A/N: I know this is what y'all have been waiting for, so I hope I did this moment justice :') I'm putting together a lil playlist for this fic, so please lmk if you're interested in seeing it! xoxo <3

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Flower petals were strewn across the entryway as you and Joel staggered through the dark house. You couldn’t find the time—or care—to flick on the lights, too busy finding Joel’s mouth in the darkness. His hands caressed every curve of your body, fingers reaching under the seam of your sweatshirt to press against your warm skin. You tried blindly guiding him toward your room, only to awkwardly bump into corners and walls in the search, leaving you giggling and Joel cursing. You were nearly at the door when he stopped short, pinning you to the wall of the hallway so that he could devour your mouth once more. Helpless moans left your lips as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his hands roaming down your lower back. You pressed yourself closer to his chest, the outline of his hardened cock rubbing against your upper thigh. Joel pulled away from your mouth, his breath ragged as he palmed your ass with his large hands.

“I don’t want you regrettin’ this in the mornin’ if it’s not what you want,” he panted. 

“Don’t try and tell me what I want, Joel,” you whispered, kissing down the base of his neck.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands squeezing you harder. By the night's end, not a single inch of you would be left untouched. You raised your mouth to his ear, grazing over the shell of it with the tip of your tongue.

“I’m sick of pretending like I don’t want you.”

“You’re killin’ me, baby,” he groaned. 

You searched for his hand through the blanket of darkness around you, guiding him to your bedroom. You counted the steps in your head until the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you were falling back. Joel tumbled over you, one knee propped up beside your waist while his other leg was wedged between your thighs. His hands pulled at the hem of your sweatshirt, tugging it up your body until you took control and stripped it off in one fluid motion. It barely hit the ground before his hands were all over you, the touch of his skin on yours electrifying you beyond words. Every touch was soft…so fucking soft. It was dizzying to be handled so gently and with such determined intensity. Where you struggled for words, Joel responded with another caress, another kiss, another praise of adoration. 

The pads of his fingers began tracing down your sternum, working at the material of your bra. 

“Can I?” he asked, reaching behind your back.

“Yes,” you exhaled.

His fingers made easy work of the clasp, freeing you of your bra in record time. Even if you were drenched in shadows, you knew Joel’s eyes were washing over your body with rapt attention. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he muttered as he leaned back over you.

His mouth was hot against your collarbone as he worked his way down your chest. Peppered kisses trailed over the swell of your breasts, and you arched into his gentle touch as he swirled his tongue around your hardened nipples. His tongue flicked at the sensitive skin, forcing a breathy whine to escape your lips. Joel’s teeth grazed over the soft skin of your breast before dipping his head lower and scattering your navel with soft kisses. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, carding your hands through his hair.

A thin sheen of sweat hung on the curls, forcing them to stick against his temples and forehead. You raked your nails over his scalp, earning a deep groan that rumbled through his chest. He pulled himself up so that he stood over you, and as your vision adjusted to the darkness, you watched as his hands worked at tugging his shirt over his neck and shoulders. Fuck, you wished the lights were on so you could catalog every part of his body. You sat up on the bed, craning your neck back as you traced your fingers over the soft skin of his stomach and up his chest. The hair spattering his chest tickled your fingertips as you crept higher, your hands caressing the thick muscles on his shoulders. Joel’s hands reached to cover yours, halting your blind exploration of his body.

“We should stop,” he said, strained.

You cringed as he said those three words, letting your hands drop and wrap around your bare chest. You knew it was too good to be true; he didn’t want you. Even if every atom of his being called out to yours, like some prayer for divinity, he wanted to stop. 

“I—I understand,” you hesitated.

You didn’t know where to go, with him still looming over you, so you shuffled your body up the bed, trying to find the edge of your comforter so you could bury yourself in the deepest part of your mattress and disappear entirely. Joel’s hand shot out to grab your ankle, tugging you back to the edge of the bed, and you raised yourself on your forearms, staring at him confused. 

“We should stop,” he started. “Because I don’t have a condom.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in two years,” you confessed, adding, “I’m on birth control, too.”

“Are y’sure?”

You hooked a leg around his waist, tugging him closer until he was falling forward and caging you between his arms. You craned your head to capture his lips in a hungry kiss, holding him firm against you.

“I want this, Joel. I’m sure.”

That was all Joel needed to hear before he lost all semblance of control. His restraint was replaced with this frantic urgency as his fingers worked at the button and zipper of your jeans, yanking them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to the cool air circling your room. His pants were shed less than a minute later, and now you were both only separated by thin pieces of fabric that covered your lower halves. The press of Joel’s hardened cock against your thigh ignited a fire within your stomach, and your underwear dampened through at the thought of what he could do with it. Having sex with Bennett always felt like an obligation—a chore. But with Joel, you craved it beyond understanding. You needed to put emotions into action and feel how he thought about you. Every ounce of your resolve and control were far gone now, left somewhere between the front door and the bed beneath you. The second Joel had kissed you, you knew you’d never say ‘no’ to him again. He was a weakness you couldn’t control, and you were so tired of trying to keep him at a distance.

Joel’s hands worked at your underwear, and you let out a giggle when he tossed them carelessly across the room along with his own. Your heart pounded in your chest as he lifted your leg by the back of your knee, propping it over his broad shoulder. He angled the head of his cock against your slick entrance, coating it in your wetness before pushing in slowly. Your head fell back against the bed as he broke you open inch by inch. The agonizing stretch to adjust to him faded away, and you both moaned in unison as he bottomed out, filling you completely. 

“S’fuckin’ tight, baby,” Joel cursed. “Feels fuckin’ amazing.”

He started moving, his hips rocking against you at a tender pace as you squirmed under his body. Each thrust amplified the coiling warmth, creating an unbearable furnace inside you. You needed more; you needed to feel everything and forget every lingering emotion crawling through your mind.

“Harder,” you begged.

“Yeah?” Joel panted, driving into you with such force your body shoved up the bed. “Like that, baby?”

Your only response was a vigorous nod of your head and an outward cry as he plunged deeper with each snap of his hips. Sounds of your bodies slapping together, your endless cries of pleasure, and his ragged breath became a cacophony floating through the air around you. 

A car drove past your house, the headlights streaming through the blinds, drenching Joel’s silhouette for a fleeting moment. At that moment, you could see the flex of his arms, the pinch of his brows, and the slight tug of his lips upwards as he continued wrecking into you. Rewashed in darkness, you ached to see how his pupils blew wide as he gazed down on you. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Joel muttered, squeezing your hips to anchor you against his body. Perfect. There was that word again, sounding so simple when he said it like it wasn’t a lie. Like he meant it. And every action he showed you proved he not only meant it but believed it. 

You chased the warmth that unfurled through your muscles, the pleasure building higher and higher until you could barely contain it. Joel must have felt it, too, because as your eyes scrunched tight, Joel’s fingers found the sensitive bud at the apex of your sex and drew long, tantalizing circles. That touch was all you needed to come undone completely; your body was paralyzed as the orgasm wracked through you with such intensity you lost all breath inside your lungs. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Joel hummed. “Let go, baby. Gimmie more.”

Bennett had never spoken to you this way, nor did he praise you when you came—which was rare with him. He barely did anything but grunt once in a while, but this? Hearing Joel talk you through every thrust, every ripple of your orgasm, only spurred you on more. You clung onto every word he spoke, like a moth to the flame, and his mouth was a forest fire. 

Joel bent forward, wrapping a strong arm around your back and hauling you over until you were perched on top of him. From this angle, his cock felt so much bigger, stretching you wider until your thighs ached. He sprawled back against the comforter; his hands splayed against your hips to guide you in fluid motions above him.

“Joel…” you exhaled, grinding your hips down against him. 

“Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you need,” he urged.

You lifted your hips, sinking back down onto him, finding the perfect rhythm that rendered you speechless. You couldn’t form words or think of anything else but his name.

“C’mon, baby. I know y’can use your words. I wanna hear you.”

“It’s just—.” You heaved in a breath as he rocked up into you. “You feel so fucking good, Joel. Your cock…”

“Keep talkin’,” he moaned.

Shuffling his knees up, Joel started pistoning into you hard, making it impossible to form coherent sentences. How were you to speak when his cock was driving into you so hard your vision was blurring? Joel gritted out your name, coaxing you from your chaotic thoughts. 

“Never.” You gasped. “Been fucked this good.” Another gasp. “Need this all the time. Need—you. Fuck… Joel…”

“I got you, baby. Ain’t gonna let you go.”

You whispered his name like a cantation, each syllable a broken prayer leaving your lips. Another orgasm throbbed inside your core, and you snaked your hand to rub circles against your swollen clit, trying to alleviate that growing ache throbbing in your veins. Joel’s pace was unrelenting as you toppled closer to the edge, a cry escaping your mouth as you felt your body seize up. The clench of your sex around his cock was enough to force him to the edge, too, and as you hit your climax, his release exploded inside you, with your name falling off his tongue.

Joel lifted himself, molding your bodies together in his firm grip, your lips crushing together as he swallowed the tiny sounds still finding their way up your throat. Your hands clasped around the sides of his neck, keeping his mouth locked with yours until you felt his cock soften inside you. With a roll of his hips, Joel had you pinned to the mattress once more, his cock slipping free as he worked his mouth down your body. You tensed as his mouth grew closer to your navel, embarrassment forcing your spine to stiffen.

“Joel,” you cautioned. “You—you don’t have to do that.”

His nose brushed over your stomach, his hands working in tandem to pry your legs apart. With a dip of his head, he placed a gentle kiss on each thigh, humming in satisfaction.

“Y’want me to stop, baby?” He asked, his warm mouth hovering over your sensitive clit.

“I just—.” You were flustered. “I’ve never had someone…”

His fingers flexed and tightened around the supple skin of your hips, and you could see his dark eyes peering up at you with confusion as his brows knit together. 

“Don’t you dare tell me you ain’t ever had a man eat your pussy,” he warned. 

You bit your lip and gave him a single nod of your head. Bennett never went down on you, always making some sort of excuse. “You wouldn’t like it.” “I’m too tired, honey.” “Maybe next time.” He never offered, and eventually, you gave up asking. You could hardly count any guy before him since most had been careless hookups and one-night stands—most of them leaving you to chase your orgasm after they left. You couldn’t even count on two hands the times Bennett actually made you cum, and now Joel was setting himself up to do it again…for the third time.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, covering your face to hide the shame that burned under your cheeks.

“Baby, don’t do that,” Joel pleaded. “S’nothin’ to be sorry for, okay?”

“But you just…” You could feel his cum leaking out of you, still. Was he seriously considering this right now?

“I don’t care. I wanna taste us together, baby. Let me show you how good it can feel.”

You inhaled sharply, only responding with another tilt of your head. Joel’s mouth hovered over your slick entrance, his eyes still trained on you.

“Gimmie words, baby,” he said. “I need to hear you say ‘yes’.”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered.

“Y’want my tongue?”

When you didn’t respond, he teased you with a sharp flick of his tongue against your clit, forcing a cry to erupt from your mouth. Joel groaned at your responsiveness to his touch, awarding you with a thick swipe of his tongue over your slick entrance. He worked at you like he was a dying man, and you were the last drop of water in an empty desert, lapping at every drop of cum dripping down your sex. You glanced at him, meeting his piercing stare between your legs. Rough fingers massaged your sore thighs while his tongue dove into you with such desperation you couldn’t tell if he was pleasuring you or if you were pleasuring him. Euphoria sparked in your veins, overwhelming you to the point of tears. Snaking a hand under your thigh, Joel worked two thick fingers inside you, prying you open and coaxing a sob from your throat. 

“Right there, oh my god. Joel, don’t stop,” you choked, gasping for air. 

His fingers and tongue worked at you in tandem, the orgasm surging inside you becoming all-consuming. It thrashed inside your veins and tore through you forcefully and without warning. You slumped against the comforter as your soul floated above your body. Was delirium a real thing? Because if it was, this was the precipice of madness. Joel swept a soft kiss over your aching clit before crawling on top of you again. Tangling his hand in the hair at the base of your neck, he brought his wet lips to yours until your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside. 

“Taste yourself, baby,” Joel moaned into your open mouth. “Don’t we taste so fuckin’ good?”

“Mhmm,” you whimpered.

Joel kissed you fervently; each stroke of his tongue against yours was purposeful and searing, a blistering admission of devotion and admiration. You still felt undeserving of it all: his patience, tenderness, and kindness… but maybe this was a start. Maybe he was worth letting it. 

As the kisses slowed and your bodies begged to be unstuck from one another, you found a stream of tears rolling down your cheeks. Fuck. The euphoria you had been sucked into was fading into the distance, and you were overly aware of the emotions crashing at the surface. Your voice was hoarse as you mumbled his name, breaking away from his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, turning your head into the pillows. 

Joel hushed your cries, dragging his thumb over your cheek to collect your tears. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No, no,” you said, voice muffled. “I’m okay. Everything was great.”

“Then why’re you cryin’?”

You turned your head back to face him, catching the furrow of his brows through bleary eyes. 

“It’s stupid,” you muttered.

“Talk to me, please.”

You curled into his arms, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck. The smell of sex and sweat wafted off of him, mixing with the lingering warm cologne wafting off his skin. You never wanted to leave this moment. You never wanted to be untangled from his limbs. It was a terrifying realization; this was something you wanted. 

“You’re just—not what I expected.” It came out as a mixture of a laugh and cry, leaving you gasping for breath. “I haven’t been the easiest person to get to know, and I haven’t been the kindest, but you… you haven’t left. I don’t understand why you haven’t left.”

“Hey, hey… oh, baby,” Joel crooned. “Look at me.”

Joel’s fingers slid under your chin, fighting against your reluctance as you met his shadowed gaze. In the sunlight, you could see the unmistakable flecks of amber and gold swirling in his eyes, but in the darkness, they were nearly black—but just as soft and ardent. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, okay? There ain’t a single thing that’s gonna change my mind about you. I know you’re worried about all this stuff happenin’ between us, but we can take things as slow as you want, baby. You call the shots from now on, and whatever you wanna do, I’ll be here,” he said. 

“I’m not worth—.”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “You are worth it. I’ll spend every day provin’ it if that’s what it takes.”

You didn’t know what to say when all you could cling to were the lingering memories of Bennett and the words he had once said. Yes, you loved him at one point, but there were so many reasons to hate him. The constant fights, the constant feeling of never being enough, the constant silence. The silence. Bennett’s silence was a weapon he used to pacify you. You learned over time that speaking up and communicating your feelings was unimportant to Bennett; if anything, it was an opportunity to minimize your voice and keep you docile. You became the smallest version of yourself in his shadow, clawing for scraps of his attention to try and keep the relationship afloat. You tried so hard to keep him happy until it came at the cost of losing yourself entirely. You didn’t recognize yourself anymore. 

“What can I do right now?” Joel asked, his voice swimming upstream against the thoughts that drowned you. “D’you wanna take a shower and sleep? Sarah’s at a sleepover tonight, so I ain’t got nowhere to be but here with you.”

You exhaled a heavy sigh, nodding your head at his offer. Joel unwound his limbs from yours, pulling you to your aching legs and letting you take the lead toward your ensuite. With a shaky hand, you flicked on the lights, your eyes squinting to adjust to the harshness of color that washed over the room. A quick look in the mirror told you everything you needed to know; you were thoroughly fucked and completely strung out. Your hair was a tangled mess hanging over your shoulders, your lips fuller and swollen from kissing, yet your eyes were hollow and glossy. Joel’s tall frame came into view behind you, his tanned arms snaking around your middle and tugging you back against his chest. Through the mirrored reflection, he held your gaze with an unwavering kindness that tore through every self-deprecating voice in your head. With his hand splayed over the expanse of your stomach, Joel dipped his head lower, his mouth hot against your ear. 

“Look how beautiful y’are, baby,” he praised. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your thighs together to quell the slow ache pulsating inside you again. 

You wanted so badly to see what he saw, but all you saw was the lingering handprints of the past plastered over your skin. The places Bennett had touched and kissed before, the echoed arguments that deafened your ears, every inch of you was left tainted. They say it takes the body seven years to replace its cells—seven years to be a new person from the inside out. You were hardly on the cusp of three years since Bennett last touched you, but you desperately wanted to be shed of every fiber that still clung to his memory. You couldn’t speed up the process; it was out of your control, but Joel touched you like he sought to do it himself. Inch by inch, your body would forget Bennett’s touch. It was your heart that needed to follow the same path. 

Joel’s deep voice whispering your name roused you from your thoughts, and your eyes snapped up to meet his through the mirrored reflection. Everything fell away, and you lost yourself again in the simplicity of being in the moment with him. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he urged, his hand coming down to palm your ass before delivering a light slap. 

You let out a startled laugh, forcing your legs to move and start up a warm shower. The second you both stepped under the blazing warmth of the spray, Joel had you pinned to the wall. You yelped at the startling cold of the tiles that pressed into your spine, but Joel’s hungry mouth swallowed every noise you made. Droplets of water fell off his damp curls, settling on your open mouth as he intertwined his tongue with yours. 

“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging you back under the pelting rain of the showerhead. 

You leaned your head back under the water, letting the water rush over your skin and drench your hair. Joel’s fingers twisted their way up the wet tendrils, gingerly massaging your scalp until a satisfied moan escaped your lips. He worked at lathering shampoo into your hair, scraping his nails across your scalp with each drag of his fingers. 

“This feels nice,” you muttered, your voice lost in the downpour of water above you. 

The resounding hum from Joel’s chest was all you heard as he washed your hair, his hands never leaving your body, even after the suds began to float down the drain. You lifted yourself on your toes to bring your mouth to his, not trusting yourself with words. For once in your life, you were speechless.

Time slipped away, and it wasn’t until you noticed your fingertips had pruned and the water ran cold that Joel finally tugged you out of the shower. You searched for two towels in your cabinets, watching as his hands worked the fabric over the low taper of his hips. Water droplets clung to the dark hair covering his chest, the muscles of his torso rising and falling with each breath. Your eyes wandered up to his face and settled on the natural upturn of his lips. You tried to fight the smile forming on your lips, but denying the emotions spreading through your body was practically impossible. 

You were happy. 

“I don’t like when you’re this quiet,” Joel chuckled softly. “I’m so used to you talkin’ or arguin’ with me.”

You blinked up at him, watching the crease form between his brows. It was the first time someone had an issue with you being quiet. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. It was your default response to everything. You were sorry for talking too much; you were sorry for not talking enough… you were just sorry. 

Joel’s hands came up to cup your face, leaving you with no choice but to look into his tired eyes. 

“I hate that you always say that,” he confessed. “I’m gonna make sure y’learn not to always say 'sorry'.”

“You’re gonna teach the teacher?” You lifted a brow. 

He chuckled and lifted his lips to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. 

“There she is,” he muttered against your skin. “Now, c’mon. You tired me out, and I can’t sleep without hearin’ your voice.”

“Oh, really?” You teased, peering up at him.

“Yeah, really,” he smiled. “So, let’s get our asses in bed, and y’can talk my ear off ‘til we fall asleep.”

And that’s exactly what you did. Hidden under the sanctuary of your comforter and pulled tight against Joel’s chest, you talked until the hours grew late. You told him about your childhood and how you failed math in sixth grade. You told him about your rebellious teen years, divulging the horrendous stories of how you and Beth would sneak out to parties together. He asked about college, and you told him what you could without including Bennett in the story. Occasionally, he would chime in to ask another question, and the conversation would keep rolling, suspending you both in time as you remained wrapped up in one another's embrace. Every doubt had faded, but as your eyes drifted shut, you hoped your guard would start fading, too. 

Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds that fluttered against your bedroom window, drenching the room in the warm colors of sunrise. You burrowed deeper into Joel’s body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching yours as he kept your back flush to his chest. His fingers flexed against your hips, tugging you closer—if that was even possible. 

“Mornin’, baby,” Joel said, his voice gravelly from sleep. 

“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” you yawned, shimming your body back against his, awarded with the hard press of his cock at the seam of your ass. 

“Oh, don’t start with that shit again,” he groaned, rolling you onto your back.

A laugh bubbled out of you as he framed you between two large arms. Craning your neck, you met his tired eyes and saw the laugh lines creasing the corners. This was how Joel looked in the morning, happy. With his curls untamed and that lopsided grin, he looked happy…with you. 

“I’m only teasing,” you laughed as his mouth worked its way down your neck.

“Fuckin’ better be,” he muttered in between each kiss. “I just got you sayin’ my name, so y’ better not take it back.”

“Oh, does me calling you Mr. Miller not turn you on?” You quipped.

“Trust me, baby, everything you do turns me on,” Joel growled.

“I don’t believe you.”

Joel’s mouth traveled down your chest, sucking marks into the skin of your breasts. You careened into his touch, moaning as his teeth grazed over a peaked nipple.

“When I saw you for that first time,” he started, his mouth still hot against your skin. “That fuckin’ dress you wore at the dance…I knew I was a goner. Looked so fuckin’ beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Your voice was ragged as he continued moving lower. 

“I still think about how you teased me at the bar,” he said. “It drove me crazy, I swear.”

He had your legs spread open now, his nose pressed into your inner thigh. Arousal pooled between your legs, and you stole a glance at Joel’s eyes, connecting your slick entrance. Even though he fucked you sore last night, your body was addicted, so devastatingly responsive to every word he said. 

“And when you yelled at me? Fuck, somethin’ about seeing you all riled up. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought ‘bout you with my hand around my cock. I can’t get enough of you, baby,” Joel whispered. 

“You’ve thought about me like that?” You exhaled. 

“Ain’t nothin’ professional ‘bout the way I think about you.”

“Keep talking, Joel,” you begged. You were drunk on his words, completely and utterly wasted on every admission he made.

“Thought ‘bout you spread out like this for me.” He flattened his tongue against your entrance, lapping at the juices leaking out of you. “Dreamt ‘bout how sweet you’d taste and how you’d look when you cum.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours, holding your focus as he repeated the motion with his tongue. “Y’taste better than I ever expected.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back.

Joel’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud in a steady rhythm. You bucked against his mouth, chasing the orgasm that snaked its way through your stomach. He released you with a loud pop, his tongue tracing over your folds and dragging out the pleasure that swelled inside your core. He was teasing you, controlling your pleasure until it became tortuous. You cried out in frustration, bucking against his mouth, trying to find release. 

“Be patient for me, baby,” Joel whispered, ghosting his tongue over your clit again.

“Please, Joel,” you begged. Your fingers twisted into the bedsheets, your nails digging into the fabric to keep you grounded. 

Joel’s tongue teased your entrance, barely dipping into you—enough to make you curse under your breath. The longer he teased you, the stronger the need for release became. All you wanted was to fall apart, to feel the orgasm vibrate your nerves and relieve your heart from its erratic beating. You could hardly contain it any longer.

“I—I need…” You were blubbering nonsense, your thighs shaking around his head. 

“I know what ya’ need, baby. Just a lil’ bit more.”

Then he was assaulting you with his tongue, drawing circles over your throbbing clit until every muscle in your body tensed and trembled. Your vision blurred as everything rushed to the surface, your thighs squeezing around Joel’s head as the pleasure liquified inside you. You screamed out his name as your orgasm crescendoed and crashed hard. You clawed at the bed, your body seizing up with the final aftershocks rocking through you.

“I could do this for hours,” Joel hummed, nudging your throbbing clit with the tip of his nose.

You squirmed under him, trying to shove yourself up the bed and away from him. You were overstimulated and exhausted, your body still recovering from last night… and this. 

“What? Torture me?” You grumbled. 

Joel chuckled, smirking at you. He rolled onto his back, keeping his arm wrapped around your thigh. His finger massaged circles into the sore muscles, another groan leaving your lips. 

“Make you cum, baby,” Joel said. “Anythin’ you want, I’d do it.”

“How about you make me a coffee, Mr. Miller,” you sighed. “You’ve exhausted me.”

“And how do you like your coffee, Miss Smith?” He tossed back.

“Guess.”

Joel tilted his head back to look at you, his brown eyes glowing in the morning sun. He pursed his lips, studying you as he thought up an answer. 

“I’m guessin’ you like it strong,” he mused. “Maybe a lil’ dash of cream, but definitely no sugar.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp that turned into a fit of laughter. Joel raised an eyebrow at your response, rolling onto his stomach to watch you as you continued laughing. How did he read you so well? Even if it was just something as simple as coffee. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“It’s just crazy how well you know me, that’s all,” you giggled. 

“Wait, I guessed right?” He gaped. 

“Mhmm, right on the nose.”

“Well, c’mon, baby. Let’s get you that strong cup of coffee.” 

Joel tapped your leg before offering a hand to lift you from the bed. You scoured the floor for your underwear, finding them hidden under your nightstand alongside Joel’s boxers. With half your bodies clothed, you led Joel to the kitchen, the natural light reflecting off the marble countertops. It felt strange having someone in the house; you hadn’t brought anyone over since before Bennett left. You had grown so accustomed to your daily routine that including Joel in it felt unnatural…but also so normal. 

“Make yourself comfy,” Joel urged, motioning to the barstools at the end of the counter. 

You shimmed yourself onto the seat and watched him navigate around your kitchen. Your small pour-over sat in the corner beside the stove, which Joel quickly figured out. 

“Mugs?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Top right cabinet,” you said, pointing toward it.

Joel’s back muscles flexed as he reached to grab two mismatched mugs, and you leaned forward to watch him so relaxed in your home. His presence filled all the empty spaces you had hidden within the last two years. 

“I made coffee,” Bennett called from the kitchen.

You dragged yourself out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as you shuffled down the hallway. The house smelt of coffee and pancakes, and the morning was off to a good start. After a late night of arguing, you hoped a shared breakfast together would at least minimize the hostility between the both of you. 

Bennett slid a mug across the counter, your hands wrapping around the hot ceramic and inhaling the steam that floated above the liquid. You muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before taking a sip, instantly scrunching your nose in disgust. 

“Did you put sugar in this?” You asked, setting the mug down.

Bennett shrugged, sipping from his mug, unphased by your complaint. His hair was messy from sleep, the blonde strands sticking up at odd angles. He had slept on the couch for the night, which clearly didn’t do him well. 

“You always have sugar in your coffee,” he glared at you. 

“Bennett, when have you ever seen me put sugar in my coffee?” 

“I don’t know,” he huffed. “Figured you liked it. Don’t all girls like sugar in their coffee?”

You scoffed at his words, shoving away from the counter and slipping off the barstool. Gripping the blanket tighter around your shoulders, you sulked into the living room, dropping yourself on the couch cushions.

“Here we go again,” Bennett grumbled, loud enough for you to hear.

Whipping your head back toward the kitchen, you jabbed a finger at him, a scowl twisting your lips upwards. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned. 

“For fucks sake, it’s just coffee!” He yelled. 

“It’s not just coffee,” you argued. “It’s you not knowing anything about me. It’s you not paying attention to me!”

Bennett slammed his mug onto the counter, rattling the ceramic. You jolted at the sound, shrinking further into the couch. 

“I’m so sick and tired of hearing you bitch all the fucking time,” he snapped. “You always have something to complain about. Who cares if there’s sugar in it? I was trying to do something nice, but now you’re turning it into an argument. Like you always do. I can never do anything right, huh? It’s always my fault.”

His words were like a slap in the face, a knife to the open wound still bleeding from last night. You and Bennett had gone to dinner together, and he spent half the night complaining about work, never once letting you speak. When you tried explaining that you wanted to enjoy a nice dinner without discussing work, he unleashed a speech about how you were never happy with anything. The argument followed you home until you were both in a screaming match and eventually retiring separately for sleep—you in an empty bed and him on the couch. All you had wanted was a nice date night together, and it ended as it always did: you alone. 

“I just wish you’d pay attention to me,” you muttered. 

“Because everything is always about you, right? You’ve got to make everything about you. You can’t just say ‘thank you’ and move on.”

You sucked in a breath, trying to keep your anger at bay. Arguing with him was a losing battle; he would never admit his faults, even if it were something as simple as this. You were too exhausted to fight, so you only nodded and rewarded him with a tightlipped smile. 

“Thank you for making coffee. I’m sorry for getting upset.”

Bennett rolled his eyes, dumping his coffee in the sink. 

“Whatever. I gotta get ready for work.”

Then he was disappearing down the hall, slamming the door shut hard enough to knock a picture frame off the walls. You jumped at the sound and let the tears quietly fall as you sat in heavy silence. 

“You alright?” Joel’s voice echoed around you. 

You blinked rapidly, shoving down the memories and returning to the present. Joel had a hand extended to you, the mug piping hot and billowing with steam. You took it carefully, blowing on it before you took a cautious sip. Perfect. It was perfect, and it twisted something unpleasant inside you. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, setting the mug down. You mindlessly traced circles around the brim, watching the bubbles around the edges pop against the heat. 

“Am I that bad at makin’ coffee?” He frowned, leaning against your fridge. 

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re thinkin’ about somethin’, huh?”

“Stop doing that,” you whispered, adverting your gaze toward the sliding doors leading to your backyard. 

“Doin’ what?”

“Seeing right through me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Joel moving through the kitchen, rounding the counter to stand in front of you. With a gentle hand under your chin, he drew your attention his way, a deep furrow between his brows. 

“You wear your emotions on your face,” he said. “I can tell when you’re upset ‘bout something.”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” you sighed. 

You didn’t like seeing Joel’s lips downturned; you missed the grin typically plastered on his face. You felt guilty for being the reason he looked so upset, and your knee-jerk apology was on the tip of your tongue. Joel bent down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering an extra moment before he pulled away. 

“What if I wanna talk about it?” He asked.

“I don’t think you do,” you laughed bitterly. 

Joel crowded you, stepping into the space between your legs. You were at eye level with his chest, counting the constellations of freckles hidden under the hair covering his torso. You’d rather marvel over his broad frame than discuss the painful memories of your past. You didn’t want to ruin this moment together. 

“It’s okay,” you insisted. 

“Don’t shy away from me, baby. Y’can talk to me ‘bout anything.”

You hesitated a moment. Joel had you spread open on your bed only minutes ago, and now the topic of your past was about to be the morning discussion. You didn’t want to talk about Bennett after an amazing night together, but if you knew anything about Joel, he wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily. He always wanted to know more.

“You’re just different from what I’m used to,” you started. “Bennett, my ex, wasn’t like you. He didn’t pay attention to me the way you do.”

Something flashed over Joel’s eyes, a sudden flicker of anger as you spoke about Bennett. He gave you a moment to collect yourself before you continued. 

“We were together for five years, and he didn’t even know how I liked my coffee,” you scoffed. “And you guessed it in two seconds. Two seconds, Joel. I don’t understand how you do that.”

“Do what, baby?”

“Pay attention. You notice all these stupid, little things about me and make it seem so easy.”

Joel cupped your face in his large hands, his thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. You leaned into him, letting his touch ground you while your eyes fluttered shut. 

“I pay attention ‘cause I wanna know everything about you. Every single lil’ thing. That’s what it’s supposed to be like in a relationship, baby. Y’learn everything about the other person, and you remember it. From what you’ve hinted ‘bout before, I take it this Bennett guy was a real piece of shit.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone has told me.”

“Am I wrong, though?” Joel pressed.

“No,” you confessed. “He did treat me like shit. I wasn’t allowed to speak up for myself, or he got mad. He liked it when I was submissive and quiet, so that’s what I became.”

Joel’s fingers flexed against your face, his jaw clenching at every new admission. You had never admitted those things aloud, that Bennett forced you into this tiny box, making you become the perfect, obedient girlfriend. With an engagement ring on your finger, you were even more inclined to be whatever he wanted, just to know he wanted to marry you. Looking back, maybe the ring was less of a testament to his love and more of a muzzle on your outspokenness. Someone wanted to marry you, so that should make you quiet, right? 

“I don’t want you quiet,” Joel whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want you to be yourself in every way.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore, Joel. I haven’t been that girl in years.” 

Tears were spilling over your cheeks, soaking Joel’s fingers that still gripped your face. Why did you cry so much around him? You hated how emotional you were; you hated feeling weak and small. You couldn’t get through one fucking interaction with Joel without ending up a mess. Did Bennett ruin you entirely? 

“I’m sorry,” you cried quietly. “You probably need to leave soon, huh? You said Sarah’s at a sleepover, so I’m sure you gotta go get her and—.”

Joel tugged you forward, fusing his lips with yours. The taste of coffee and sleep lingered on his tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, and you welcomed him without hesitation. He kissed you slowly, with deliberate determination. You responded the same, letting yourself grow limp in his arms.

Breaking away, Joel leveled you with a stern stare that didn’t quite reach his lips since they twitched into a smile.

“I’m gonna kiss you every time you apologize just to shut ya’ up,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like a threat, Joel,” you smirked. “I’ll just apologize more.”

“Then I’ll figure out some other punishment.”

Your thighs clenched at his words, and your mind wandered to all the possibilities of what he could do. You hadn’t lied to him when you said you didn’t always like things ‘vanilla,’ but you hadn’t really dipped your toes into that area yet. You’d willingly explore it with him because if last night proved anything, it was that you trusted him more than anyone. He could do anything to you, and you knew you’d be safe.

“Got a dirty lil’ mind, huh?” Joel’s voice dropped lower.

“Oh, shut up.” You playfully shoved at his chest, shimming yourself off the barstool. 

Joel wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you back into his arms. 

“I’m serious, though, baby. It fuckin’ kills me to see you cry. I’m gonna fix that.”

“You don’t have to, Joel. I’ll be okay. I’ll work on it.”

“We are gonna work on it,” he corrected.

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You were in uncharted territory with him, afraid of the future but willing to see where it would go. You had fought against it for almost two months now, and you were tired of fighting. You’d take things slow and test the waters with him… and hope you wouldn’t come out the other side with a shattered heart.

After cleaning up the flower petals left in the entryway and redressing, you finally urged Joel to go home. It was mid-afternoon, and you knew Sarah would want time with her dad. You couldn’t selfishly keep him to yourself, but he made it very known how badly he wanted to stay. With his flannel in his hand and his hair slightly tamed, Joel lingered by the door, reluctant to leave. You had shrugged on a robe while he had dressed, already dreaming about the long bath you’d take when he left. Your muscles were screaming for release after last night and this morning.

“Y’sure I can’t stay a bit longer?” Joel pouted, his lips pushed out as he glanced at you.

You laughed at his demeanor, enjoying the playfulness he always exuded. You wanted to learn how to be like that, to shed the walls built up around you.

“Sarah’s going to want to spend the day with you,” you said. “We can plan another date soon.”

“Or…” Joel wagged his brows. “I could come back tonight.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Go home, Mr. Miller, before I kick you out.”

Joel tugged the belt wrapped around your waist, hauling you closer until you were bumping into his chest. Dipping his head, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips. You could feel the smile forming on his lips as you nipped at his bottom lip.

“Have a good day, baby,” he grinned. “I’ll call ya’ tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you exhaled.

You watched Joel until he got to his truck, his grin shining bright under the afternoon's clear skies. You waved at him as he drove off and closed your door with a heavy sigh. You needed to find your phone and make a very important phone call.

“You had sex with him, huh?” Beth asked, the phone barely reaching the second ring before she picked up.

You flopped onto the couch, your head hitting the cushions with a soft thud. 

“I did,” you groaned.

“And?” She pressed.

“It was fucking amazing, Beth. I’m so screwed.”

“Why? Isn’t this a good thing? You finally hooked up!”

You grabbed a pillow to slap over your face, muffling a frustrated scream so that Beth wouldn’t hear.

“I’m scared, Beth.”

“Scared of falling in love?” Beth asked.

“Scared of getting hurt,” you sighed. 

Beth was quiet for a moment, exhaling before gathering her thoughts and speaking her mind. 

“You can’t let your past get in the way of this, sis,” she started. “Joel sounds like an amazing man, and he’s night and day different from Bennett. I get you’re scared of getting hurt, but I seriously doubt he would do anything to hurt you. Let him in, sis. Let him love you the way you deserve.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to reel in the tears… again. Beth was right, like always, but it didn’t make these feelings easier to battle. There was so much to lose.

“It’s obvious he likes me already, but I’m such a fucking mess. I—I feel so broken, still. What if he gets tired of me? What if he never feels anything more than this?”

“I think he’s already falling in love with you, sis.”

[stvrniclo]

✩‧₊ chris sturniolo drabble

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

as music played in your air pods, you painted your nails a subtle shade of light pink. you were sitting amidst piles and piles of mess in chris' room; clothes, soda cans, wrappers, what not. but honestly, you were tired after a long day of working at the café and were busying yourself up with something that would drive your headache away, and you just could not be bothered with another session of cleaning.

chris, meanwhile, was at his desk, playing games with nick, matt and some of their friends. in his left hand was a can of his favourite soda, and his eyes were widened as he concentratedly gazed at his screen. you looked up at him every three minutes or so, smiling to yourself about just how adorable he looked, doing his own thing. like, you couldn't help but giggle at the way his hair always found a way into his eyes and he brushed it away annoyedly. or how he widened his eyes when he was really concentrating.

you'd finished painting your nails and you were in love with the way they looked. you excitedly hopped off chris' sofa, putting on your slippers as you rushed to chris. "chrissy! look at how cute my nails look!" you giggled. he looked up at your hands for a second, nodded, then looked away, but looked back up at you as he saw the cutest smile playing on your lips and just how happy you looked. "c'mere," chris said, beckoning you into his lap. he placed his soda softly on the desk, pushing it away to the side.

"okay," you said, gently climbing into his lap. you wrapped your hands around his neck, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, warming up to the soft material of his grey hoodie. "your hoodie's so soft," you say indignantly. "can i borrow it later?"

chris let out a little laugh. "of course you can, baby." he pressed a few kisses to your forehead. "you don't need to ask."

"okay, so i can steal your clothes any time i want?" you asked, looking up at him.

"yeah." chris reassured you. "whenever you want."

"you're so cute, y'know.." you said, planting your hands into his soft hair as you ruffled it up.

"yeah?" chris replied. "of course i am. i'm christopher owen sturniolo, the cutest man to ever walk this earth."

"i know that," a soft giggle slipped past your lips. "your hair's so fluffy, i wanna mess it up all the time, and your eyes are so pretty. i want them to be looking at me all the time."

"but i do look at you all the time. you're all i ever look at," chris said indignantly.

"i know, baby," you sighed. "you make me so happy."

"yeah, well, i love you," chris said, planting soft kisses across your neck and your collar.

"mm.. i love you too," you managed.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ�� ࣪ ⭒

thank u for readingg !! mwahh <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ #ㅤㅤ𝒅ivid𝖾r by @florietasㅤㅤ☆

[floralembarrassment]

Oh dear (1/1) (jegulus)

Regulus was sitting on the back porch. Not in the chair, of course, but on the steps leading down to the grass. Here he was just covered by the awning but still getting a bit wet from the light misty rain. He was wrapped in a blanket and had a warm tea in his hand, content with the only sounds being the pitter-patter of the rain, the rustling of the leaves and branches in the wind, and the laughter from his little boy who was chasing a brave butterfly.

Regulus was so happy watching his son living his childhood. He wanted nothing more for him except to not have to grow up too fast.

The only thing that could make this morning better would be James, but he was away on a "business trip." Regulus placated James by never questioning these monthly trips, but they both knew he was going to help Lupin during the full moon. Regulus didn't understand what help he was truly being but Regulus knew James, Sirius, and Peter had been keeping Remus safe the morning after since their youth.

"Papa! Papa!" Harry yelled getting Regulus' attention. He never knew how to feel about his son catching him daydreaming but he figured if he paid attention when he called, that made up for the few moments of Regulus being in his own head.

"Oui mon beau?" Regulus called back, taking a sip of his tea.

"Regarde! Regardez là!" And little hands pointed at the wooded area beyond their property line.

"It's a deer!" Harry yelled.

"That's right Harry, we have to be quiet to not scare it away okay," Regulus replied. Though he was surprised it hadn't been spooked already.

"Ahh! It's coming!" Harry yelled and turned to quickly run over to Regulus. When Harry crawled under his arm, Regulus watched the deer coming closer, closer, closer. Regulus could have sworn it had ring markings around the eyes. And then Regulus realized why the wild animal looked familiar.

"Harry go inside, wash your hands, and put some dry clothes on and then we will watch a movie before lunch okay?" Regulus said kissing Harry's head. He jumped up and ran inside.

"Okay. James." Regulus tutted, rolling his eyes he watched the deer transform back into his husband.

"Do you think one of these days he won't run away from me?" James said strutting over to Regulus.

"Hi to you too, why do you always come back like that?" Regulus said putting a soft hand on James face and then playfully shoving it away. James only smiled.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers too, love," James said laughing and then kissed Regulus on the cheek. "I hear we are watching a movie before lunch," James said as they walked inside.

"Yes after we get cleaned up, go take a shower will you," Regulus replied, but only fondness filled his tone. One of these days he will actually ask, but for now it was enough that James always came back.

[railingsofsorrow]

hiiiiii!!!! i saw your requests were open and i’m so excited i love your writing so much!! i was wondering if you would be willing to do a coffee shop au of spencer x barista!reader? i feel like it would be very fluffy :) <3

a healthy caffeine addiction

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: spencer finds a new coffee shop near work and he may be going there not just for the coffee...

pairing: s.reid x gn!barista!reader

w.c: 3K

warnings/content: a lot of flirting; mentions of case related stuff but you blink and you miss it; fluff fluff!! (you asked for it); swearing.

A/N: hi! I used gender neutral pronouns because you didn't specify so I thought it would fit best. the coffee shop is called “enchanted brewing” just do you don't get confused. one more thing! I mixed two of his best eras, glasses + long hair just because I was feeling a little silly. thank you for the request <3

navi

masterpost

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[requested] ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Oh, look, it's boy genius again.” You muse upon seeing a certain long-haired FBI agent next on the line. He's wearing a purple tie today which checks out your theory that it's his favorite color because he's always wearing something purple. It would be funny if it was an unconscious choice. “What's your order today, Dr. Reid? Maybe some coffee with your sugar?” You ask as if you hadn't seen him earlier in the day and had repeated the same thing.

You've met Spencer Reid when he walked in one day as the coffee shop you work in was still closed. He hadn't seen the closed sign. After spending five minutes straight apologizing, you delivered him his coffee order promising he wasn't bothering you. Especially if he was a cute guy with glasses. But you didn't say that last thing out loud, of course.

He's been coming to Enchanted Brewing for two weeks now. You have his order memorized from each early morning that he strides in through the entrance, his satchel hanging from his right shoulder as his bright honey-brown eyes scan through the menu on the wall. He always did that in spite of ordering the same thing from the first day.

Your timeline is slightly offbeat today. Your favorite costumer usually comes in on his way to work, once a day. Except that today he showed up twice. You're not complaining, you're currently trying to hide how happy you are that he appeared right on time for your lunch break.

“I want something different,” he says, adjusting his glasses as he looks at you with a timid smile. “Surprise me?”

“Oh.” You quickly recovered — did you? — from the spell he had you in and moved to prepare his drink. “I'll definitely surprise you, boy genius.” You already had one in mind. Your boss shots you a glare from the other side of the counter where he's delivering an order for a regular. He had reminded you of your lunch break an hour ago but you ended up attending clients and time passed by. You mouthed that it was your last one before lunch and he rolled his eyes with a knowing smile.

You take Spencer to a table outside. The day was good enough to not worry about a storm interrupting your afternoon coffee. Not yet, at least.

“So.” You utter after taking a bite of your sandwich. Spencer is sipping on the surprise he asked for and you are no profiler but your guess is that he liked it. “Aproved?”

“One hundred percent approved. What is this?” He makes a sound of satisfaction as he drinks it again. A smug grin reaches your face. “It's so good.”

You hum, “It is. From how much you like your sweets, I thought you'd like this one. Though, it barely tastes like coffee.”

Spencer silently agrees with you. “What's it called? I can taste caramel.”

“It's a caramel macchiato,” you reply, sipping your watermelon juice. “Caramel is all you can taste, boy genius.” You laugh at the way his cheeks turn pink at your nickname. Ever since he told you about his PhD's and his age. “To what do I own the pleasure of seeing you twice in a day?”

He takes his time putting the cup on the table, fingertips grazing the sides in half circles. When he meet your gaze, you were already staring, but you have the decency to look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. Thank god you were done eating or else you'd be blushing and attempting to swallow your food. Not a good view.

“Um, I... I didn't have a case today and I finished paperwork early so I thought I'd come, um.” He stammers, straightening his posture and exhaling. The middle of his forehead creased a bit and you find it incredibly endearing seeing him trying to figure out the words.

“...you were craving caffeine so you came to the best place near your work?” you complete his sentence with a playfully smirk dancing across your lips.

“Yes!” Spencer exclaims, clearing his throat realising his voice had failed. He offers you a sheepish smile, to which you respond with a grin of your own. “Yes, and... well.”

“It's okay,” you tap your fingers against the hard wood. “You can admit that I make the best coffee.” The convinced stance you had made him chuckle, eyes traveling over your frame discreetly. He could only hope he was being discreet.

“I wanted to see you.” He admits. “And for the coffee, of course.”

Sometimes you had the impression that he did know the effect he had on you, either that or he just didn't want to see it.

“Of course.” You nod as if it was obvious. “Sure.” He wanted to see me? Me?

He pulls his glasses up again, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. He was about to say something when he jumped on his seat, groaning as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“I have to go,” he says, disappointment lacing through his tone. You brush off his apologetic expression.

“That's completely understandable. Duty calls.” Both of you stand up. You still had half an hour left of your lunch, you guess you would have to resort to play your mobile game instead of flirting with a handsome FBI agent. “I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Hopefully,” Spencer picks up his work bag and the coffee cup you thought he had already finished. The corners of his lips raise a bit when he catches the boy genius written in a messy handwriting on the cup. “It's not a local case...”

“Oh,” you try to hide your lack of joy. “Alright. Be careful then.” Spencer nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “And don't betray me for another barista, boy genius.” That got you one of his short laughs that made his eyes crinkle in the edges.

“Never.”

──────────────

Spencer was back three days later. The case was a hard one, one of those were the unsub decided to not make their lives easier and kept moving across state lines to hide. He was keeping a victim hostage in the trunk of his car and thankfully, they were able to save her in time. Everybody was granted a day-off to get some rest.

It's not like Spencer was married to his work, in fact, he could enjoy a little alone time in the comfort of his home with a book and some coffee to accompany his quiet reading.

But that's the problem.

Routines are hard to create and they are hard to let go of. Ever heard the saying “old habits die hard”?

Ivan Pavlov researched about classical conditioning. According to him, you have a stimulus and a response in a given situation. It is likely that you'll keep repeating an action if it proves to be beneficial to you. If you like doing it, you'll barely notice it became an habit.

He's been visiting your coffee shop almost every day for the past weeks and that is an habit he's gotten quite comfortable with.

Therefore, in order to not disturb his routine that is very very important to him — honestly? Spencer can't handle changes — he drives down to Enchanted Brewing. The soft jingle of the bell alerted of his entrance.

Spencer gets in line. There's seven people in front of him, maybe because it's lunch hour and all of them are rushing to get their orders. Spencer waits. He still hasn't heard any flirting remarks or winks sent his way and he's not sure if you are not behind the counter today or if his lenses are just really blurried that he can't see your pretty face.

“Afternoon, sir. What would you like to order today?”

You are definitely not behind the counter and he's slightly confused before listing off his order. The clerk notes it down, then he stops midway, studying Spencer with narrowed eyes.

“You're boy genius?”

Spencer blinks, startled. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish and really, what is that question? How is he even supposed to answer that? You call him that, so is that a yes? Is he supposed to say yes—

“Sorry,” the guy says, shaking his head with a laugh, “they told me about you.”

“Oh.” Spencer doesn't know what to say, thankfully, he doesn't have to because he carries on.

“You two have kind of a system going on, right?”

“A- a system?”

The clerk's polite smile widened into a smirk. “Well, yes.” He says slowly. “You order the same thing and they make you an entire difference drink, isn't that it? They explained it and that's how I got it.”

“Uh, yes. I think so. But you don't have to—”

Your coworker waves him off, “I was just making sure you were the guy, really. They left a special order for you in case you appeared while they were still sick.” Spencer's concern is visible through his face. “Sore throat, I asked them to stay at home this week. You know, they don't care about day-offs so I forced it upon them to have it either way since they're sick. Really stubborn, that one. I'm Tim, by the way."

“Spencer.” He gave a little wave while introducing himself and was quick to add. “Are they okay?”

Tim turned to look at him in the middle of the beverage making. He nodded. “Yes, they'll be back in a day or two. Nothing serious.”

Spencer lets out a sigh in relief, leaning against the counter to wait for this order to be ready. He hopes you get better soon and that you were taking proper care of yourself. If he knew, he would have brought some jell-o and mint tea, they are great remedies to soothe a sore throat. After he paid for his surprise drink, he sat down on a table outside, there wasn't a lot of people and he enjoyed his alone time while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

Maybe if he had gotten your number, he could ask how you were. But he didn't because Spencer doesn't think. He doesn't have game as Derek says, whatever that means. It's not his fault that he can't think straight around pretty people, is it? He can't help it!

He left the café that day with another great drink to add to his list and his mind set on one thing: he's going to ask for your phone number next time he sees you.

──────────────

Every person in the whole freaking world decided to appear at Enchanted Brewing today. Nothing wrong with people. You love people, really!

But your back is aching and your hand is cramping from how much you used the hand mixer. God, you needed to lay down for a month and wake up maybe never.

A costumer just left and you finally turn the sign to closed. Thank god. You're finishing cleaning up the tables when you notice the silence. Being around people all day long can be a little exhausting, especially if you have to yell a name in order for someone to pick their order. Your recently recovered sore throat does not appreciate that.

You're alone tonight. Tim left early to run some errands and you're in charge of closing. You don't mind, it's actually peaceful to close the shop and make your way home. You don't live far and the streets aren't too busy nor totally empty.

Boy genius didn't show up again.

You know his job is demanding, he's occupied being a hero and using his brain to solve difficult cases and catch bad guys. You feel bad complaining about your work, knowing what he does. He must get exhausted daily.

You miss him. And it's weird, you're not one to get attached easily. To be able to call Tim your friend took about half a year, you just don't trust people fast. Spencer just feels different. He makes you feel comfortable, despite not having the experience of hanging out with him outside of your work, he's that kind of person that has a safe ambience all over him. You could be wrong, you're aware of that, you don't really know the guy. He's a regular, he loves your surprise coffees, he's got a cute smile and an awkwardness that is endearing. You don't know more than that, but you'd really like to.

After placing your uniform in your assigned locker, you check one more time to see if everything is in place before leaving.

The doorbell scares the shit out of you and you grab the first thing you see to defend yourself, which is your phone.

It's closed. You turned the sign. The lights are off. Who the fuck is entering a coffee shop when all of the lights are off?!

“Uh, what... Why are you threatening to throw your phone at me?”

And there it is, the man you cannot stop thinking about materialising in front of you. Not a burglar.

Your shoulders slump in relief and you lower your phone back to the counter. “Fuck, genius. Don't do that. Why do you always ignore the closed sign?”

“Sorry,” he responded, bashfully, realising how the situation came out. “I saw you were inside and I just came in, didn't thought it through.”

“Mm. You scared the shit out of me.” A soft smile formed on your lips and it soon became a wide grin. “God, you're so...”

“Annoying?” he offers, grimacing as he buries his hand on his overcoat. Both his cheeks and the tip of his nose are pink, reminding you of how cold it is outside. “Sorry, I'll just— I'll leave you be.” The regret on his features is what puts you out of your dazed stare.

You sprint over to the door, blocking his exit. “I didn't say that.” You let out with bated breath. He halts right in front of you, big doe eyes staring down at you in surprise and you're beaming at him again. “You could never be annoying, boy genius. I was about to say amazing, actually.”

Morgan and Penelope are two people that keep making his life miserable by the amount of nicknames they make up for him. But this one? This one he doesn't complain at all. Boy genius. You could call him that every day and he would never dare be annoyed by it. The reason is because he loves your voice — which he realised it's a bit hoarse right now — but that's besides the point.

That is a nickname he missed dearly.

Were they about to call me amazing?

“I have a confession to make.” Emily is one hundred percent right when she said his IQ is slashed to 60 while around pretty people, because now that he's seen you he can't seem to remember what he came here for. “I betrayed you.”

You raise a brow, surveying him with amusement. “Oh?”

“Yes. I, I ordered a caramel macchiato on a cafeteria in Fairbanks.” He elaborated, lifting his hand to brush his hair behind his ear. You wanted to find out if it was as soft as it looked. “It wasn't good. I don't know, it wasn't the way you made so I didn't— I didn't though it was good.”

Your chest swells for a reason you're not sure.

“What I'm trying to say is that... Your coffee is better. No. It's not actually that—”

“Breathe. You're turning red like a tomato.”

That made him impossibly redder. He pushed his glasses up his nose, swallowing hard.

���Spencer,” you say, dropping your flirty facade in fear of him combusting in front of you. You nudge your finger against his hand, timidly. “I won't bite. You can talk to me.”

“Okay.” He croaks out, playing with your fingertips. And without looking directly at you, he lets out a sigh to muster some courage and says, “I like you.” He manages to say, pretending as if the way you said his name didn't affect him that much. You're smiling at him and suddenly he's fourteen again with butterflies in his stomach because his first crush just greeted him in class.

“I like you too,” you confess in a whisper. You're too close yet so far.

Spencer shakes his head, lifting his gaze to yours since he was staring at your hands. “Not like that. Not in a I like-your-coffee-and-your-flirting kind of way.”

You fear you're misunderstanding him and you don't want to make a fool out of yourself, so you remain quiet, getting lost in the twinkle in his brown eyes provided by the street lamp outside.

“I like you in a... I-want-to-spend-more-time-with-you way.” Finally, he says it. Could he have explained it better? Yes. Is he able to do it? Not with you looking at him like that. “I-Mm, I mean, I love your company and spending time here but I would like to take you on a date.” You were supposed to ask for her number first! What are you doing, you idiot?! “If you want to, of course.”

You can't hold back the giant grin taking over your features. “Boy genius,” you drawl out, doing what you've been fantasizing from the first moment you've seen him: touch his hair. You pull a stubborn strand behind his ear and from the way he almost flutters his eyes shut and leans into your touch, you assume he likes it. “When I said that I liked you, I didn't mean as a favourite-cute-costumer-of-the-month kind of way. But in an I-think-he's-cute way.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. Preferably, somewhere where we don't drink coffee.”

The crinkles around his eyes show up as he chuckles, nodding. “Okay, yeah, we can definitely do that.”

“Cool.” And you can't stop smiling like an idiot.

Spencer not only got the number but a date with the cute barista. He'd say that's very cool.

[auspicioustidings]

Fixer Upper

Summary: Request for some fluffy established relationship PricexReaderxSoap for @bunnyreaper (pls be advised I am working through my ask box and the next one is this throuple but horny :D)

Words: 1.3k

“It's a fixer upper love!”

It was the first thing John had said to you when you had emerged from the trees and seen the cottage that was now yours and he was not lying. The place was falling apart.

“Och come on bunny, going tae have tae see the vision!”

Ah, Johnny could always read your face and right now your scepticism must be written all over it. He used bunny when he wanted to wind you up a little. The first time you and the two of them had really sat down and spoken about your relationship, turned it into something formal, he had joked you were their barracks bunny. John had laughed but smacked him upside the head for that.

“Sure thing Sergeant John, let me just get my rose tinted glasses. Now where did I put those things?”

He stuck his tongue out at you. You had your own nickname ready to wind him up. Usually you'd differentiate by calling him Johnny but if he was misbehaving then you differentiated by rank. John always liked that though, even if he did tell you in private all the time how Johnny would definitely make Captain one day and take over the 141 so he could retire and just have fat babies with you.

“Come on love, Captain John will take you through it” John laughed, scooping you up easily into his arms with Johnny rolling his eyes.

“Traitor, bonnie wee bunny bats her eyelashes and it's all Captain John this and Captain John that.”

Still, John placated him by leaning over with you still in his arms and planting a kiss to the side of his head. God you loved when they were soft and tender with one another. Even before you were all together you had loved just watching how they took care of one another. It was a solid sort of affection, the kind that had become instinct to them over conscious effort.

They both fell into an easy rhythm around one another when you crossed the threshold (twice you crossed it because Johnny had watched John carry you like a bride over it and then stolen you to do the same before you were finally put down). John would point out something to be fixed and how to fix it, Johnny would wax poetic about what it would be like when done.

It took you two rooms before you couldn't help but see it, could not resist getting drawn into their warm excitement. You joined in even, arguing with Johnny over where the Christmas tree would go, going on tip toes to give John kisses when he agreed he would teach you how to tile properly so you could help with his vision for the kitchen.

You knew them and you knew they'd want to do it all themselves, but they were away so often and it was so important that when they got home they actually had downtime. Of course they disagreed, but they had come to learn that while on the field they took care of everyone, here in the peaceful warmth of home it was you who took care of them. So they grumbled and sat down with you to go over tradespeople who you could bring in to help. You only had to smack John once when he refused someone on the basis that they had an attractive sounding name and he wasn't about to let their bunny wind up in a porn plot. Honestly it was probably the best you could have hoped for.

–

The soft glow of the lights made your cottage seem like something out of a cosy dream. It had taken time and effort and love but here you were with the perfect home all ready for the holidays.

There was a soft festive tune playing as John danced with you, holding you close with your head tucked into him. Johnny had braved the snow to walk down to the village and post your cards for the rest of their team. Well partially, mostly he was probably going in to say hi to all the old dears so they could fuss over him as always. You and John always teased him for being their favourite, but it was sweet to watch.

“I love you” you sighed against him, no reason for the words really other than knowing it made him smile to hear them.

“I know, everybody loves me, it's the beard I think.”

You laughed and leaned back, giving him a light tap on the nose in chastisement.

“That'll be it John, if you ever shave I'm out of here.”

“I love you too, more than I could ever put into words.”

Sometimes you couldn't believe you were so content, but softly being kissed by one of the men you loved in the home you had made together made everything just feel right.

“I spoke with Kate.”

You tilted your head at him, encouraging him to continue. It was always a struggle to try and not worry whenever he said something like that. Were they getting shipped out again? Was something dangerous coming?

“This is my last Christmas in active duty love” he said, smiling fondly at the tears already forming in your eyes. “Not told Soap yet, but I've recommended him for Captain. Simon is pushing for it too, don't think he'd accept anyone else as his CO.”

You knew it was always what John had wanted, for Johnny to take over. He spoke with you about it sometimes, explained how it would be tricky moving him from Sergeant to Captain, but with the Lieutenant backing him it would work.

It always seemed such a far off thing and now here it was, less than a year away. You were definitely crying, so happy for him and for Johnny and for yourself.

“Let's do a winter wedding.”

“You- you're supposed to propose first!” you half laughed, half sobbed.

He chuckled at the sorry state you found yourself in and smothered your face in kisses as he apologised for going about it all wrong. You heard the door open and turned to see Johnny shaking off the dusting of snow that had settled on him. He took in the situation and grinned, coming barrelling over to crush both you and John in a hug even though he was cold and wet from outside.

“Cannae believe it, ye went and asked her to marry ye without me here didn't ye?”

“Don't worry Soap, you'll get your turn. Got something to ask you later as well.”

Something about the fact it was clear they had discussed marriage before made you sob even harder, ugly crying about how happy it all made you.

“Love you bunny, love you Captain.”

You got to watch a few months later when John finally told Johnny about the promotion, all confirmed with the higher ups. You got to cry all over again when John actually did get down on one knee in the summer, proposing properly. Johnny had proposed not 2 days later.

You did have a winter wedding right in your garden. They bound your hands together in a strip of tartan cloth as you declared that this was forever. Gaz got drunk and wound up giving Farah the raunchiest lap dance you had ever seen. Simon deadpanned that it was allergies anytime someone tried to tease him for crying during the ceremony.

John retired from active duty before Christmas as promised. As Johnny kissed you both goodbye and left to go lead his team to save the world once again he only laughed when you flustered horribly at his parting words.

“Mind and get started on those fat bairnies while I'm gone, cannae wait tae meet them.”

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: It's become a ritual at this point for Simon to ask you to help with his eyepaint before a mission, but that might just be an excuse for him to hold you close before he must become 'Ghost' once more. OR Simon just needs some extra tender loving, and we're here to give that to him :)) Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader (No pronouns used!) Word Count: 1.0K words Warnings: None! Unless you're allergic to fluff I suppose :p Author's Note: I CANNOT get enough of this man, and this prompt came to me in a dream haha. It's just very very soft Simon, hope you enjoy!!

The sun sat low in the sky, painting the world in a soft golden light just outside the windows of your room. It was a shame you couldn’t admire it in its entirety, instead having to busy yourself with packing your gear for the upcoming mission with 141 in the next 3 hours.

Gloves, ammo, med kit… you mentally checked off in your head despite knowing that with how long you’ve been doing this, packing your kit was like stating the alphabet.

Zipping up the final pocket, the final run-through was interrupted by three short knocks on your door.

Making your way over, you open the door and are met with the hulking figure of Ghost himself, his regular black balaclava and intimidating skull mask replaced with a simpler skull one.

“Simon! Didn’t know you’d be coming by so soon,” you say with a smile, gesturing for him to come in. He does so without hesitation, only humming lowly in response.

He takes note of your outfit, still not yet in tactical gear. Fuzzy yellow socks paired with shorts and one of his sweaters. While you were by no means the tiniest person on the planet, his clothes never managed to make you look like anything but.

‘Cute’ he thought to himself. There was a reason your callsign was ‘Sol’ after all, with you being the bright light of the task force, a glow that rivalled the sun itself. It also meant you burn just as strongly, your proficiency on the battlefield was very proof of that.

He sits down on your bed as if it were his own, which, at this point it practically was. If you weren’t in his room then he was in yours.

You and Simon had been dating for years now, going on 4 years next month. You had both met even before the task force was created, when you were nothing more than a private and he was a Sergeant climbing through the ranks. It was a slow but steady path to get to where you both were now, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just look at the man, anyone would do the same.

“Pack all your things for the mission yet?” you ask, stepping into the space between his legs. He only grasped your hips and pulled you in closer.

“Yeah, though I am missing one thing, figured you could help me with it,” he says before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pot of black paint paired with a brush.

You only grin in response, taking them into your own hands.

“Always,” you reply.

It was practically a ritual now, every time you had a mission Simon would get you to do his eyepaint. It was a simple little task, but no less intimate. It served as a grounding before you headed into the heat of battle, allowed for a moment to simply be close, to exist in each others space before you both had to become ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’.

You situated yourself down on his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the warmth of his large hands seeping through your clothes.

Placing the paint down in your lap for a moment, you return your focus back to him.

“This okay?” you ask softly as your fingers brushed over the edge of his balaclava. Simon only nods slightly. While you couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t allow you to take it off, you still asked every time without fail. It was the least you could do, after all he’s been through.

Tugging off the mask you’re met with his beautiful face. As though crafted by the hands of the Gods himself he glowed in the light of the sun, stealing your breath away.

No matter how many times you’ve seen his face over the years, your reaction never changes.

Brushing your fingers over his face lightly, you pull him close for a tender kiss. No heat or passion, simply love, as though to say “I’m here, as are you. Us, together.” Pulling away, you smile as you look into his honeyed eyes, the love you held for him mirrored in his own.

“Let’s get to it, yeah?” you say.

“Let’s,” Simon murmurs quietly.

Opening up the pot of paint you get to work. No words are said between the two of you, and there didn’t need to be. Instead, you both bask in the comfortable silence and the presence of each other.

With gentle strokes, you apply the black paint, the first of many steps it takes to turn back into ‘Ghost’ when all he had to be was ‘Simon’ with you here on base. But that was the way your worlds worked, it was living two different lives. And while both were your true selves, they remained separate, neither persona belonging in the other’s world.

Methodically you tilt his head back and forth for even application across his eyes while he only relished in your soft touch, eyes closed in domestic bliss.

After a few minutes you were done, and you tapped his cheek with a finger playfully.

“Alright, all done big guy,” you say, but Simon doesn’t move to get up. He only opens his eyes momentarily before pulling you into a hug.

Pulling you as close as you could possibly get, his fingers tangled gently through your hair as he buried his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.

“Simon! You’ll smudge the face paint,” you said with a laugh, “and get it all over my neck. You have any idea how hard it is to get off?” you admonished teasingly, but Simon only shushed you softly.

“Just…let me do this for a moment, love,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. While Simon was sometimes a man of few words, when he spoke he was heard.

“Okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms around him as best you could before also tangling your fingers through his soft blond hair.

You both just sat there holding each other for a little while as the sun continued to set behind you. As the day transitioned into night, and before you both had to turn back into ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’ once more.

Tags: @bloodonmyhands-1221

[alena-reblobs]

WHAT DO I HEAR you haven't read Cardcaptor Sakura and haven't heard about these two dorks named Touya and Yukito? Time to change that! (Luring you in with this photoset...pspsps....)

[lilyrizzy]

for my beloved @catofthecanals289... consider this day one of your twelve days of maxiel advent calendar lol (if i manage to write that much...i'll try...no promises....). but yay! wedding fluff

It's Grace that asks Max, “are you ready to marry my son?” 

On her face there is a grin so similar to Daniel’s, Max can’t help but return it despite his pounding heart and sweating palms.  

Looking out at the sea of familiar faces for a moment, he lets the steady hum of voices wash over him. Just breathes in the sweet smell of the tulips- Daniel’s idea- swirling in the air. Admires how the rays of sunlight filter through the big bay window behind him to bathe the room in gold.  

Max would have married Daniel in a Vegas back alley, but he does have to admit this is all very lovely. Victoria, bouncing Max’s baby daughter on her lap as his twins play with their cousins next to her, catches his eye to give him a sweet smile.  

“I am ready, of course,” Max says turning to Grace, and it’s been the truth since he was twenty years old. 

She squeezes the top of his arm, her smile softening momentarily, before she nods at the registrar. Then, multiple people are instructing Max to turn around, to face away from the aisle and instead to stare out at the setting sun through the window.  

Michelle had teased Daniel about this, said it figured that he would be the one to make the grand entrance of the day. Max had dutifully listened to Daniel’s insistences that he was not a show-off, while secretly agreeing with her. Announcing himself dramatically into a room silenced by the first few notes of a song he's spent months agonising over chosing seemed exactly like Daniel’s style.  

I want a proper first look, Daniel had told Max, it will be romantic. 

Hearing the charmed murmurings of the people they are closest to in the world as Daniel makes the entrance, Max can’t wait any longer to turn and look. 

Max is meant to wait. He’s supposed to count to fifteen, to let Daniel get at least a little way already down the aisle before he moves to look at him. He isn’t totally sure why, just that it had seemed very important when they’d practiced yesterday. Except-  

What he notices first is Daniel, of course. His wide grin, the soft brown eyes Max loves so much, framed by the cheeky way his eyebrows climb up his forehead as though to say, surprise! How beautiful he looks, though Max knows he would prefer the word 'sexy'.  

Then, it’s their children.  

Their twins, each with a hand tucked carefully into one of their dad’s, as the three of them walk down the aisle all together. Max can’t help the laughter that fizzes up from his stomach and all the way to his lips as he glances at the now empty chairs next to Victoria. Joe, who was supposed to be walking Daniel down, shrugs innocently at Max from the seat next to Grace. 

The bubbles of laughter don’t stop, not even as his eyes start to get wet at the corners, making his vision swim. He can still see everything he needs to perfectly; Daniel’s well cut suit, his carefully styled curls. The sparkle of the diamonds he let Max slip onto his fourth finger almost a year ago now, the sunlight bouncing off them. The matching blonde heads of his children, Oli’s topped with the flower crown Victoria had actually made for his sister, Livia.  

The people who remind Max over and over, just how gentle love can really be.  

The song fades out into silence when the three of them come to stand in front of Max. Three perfect faces wearing the same smile Max was first drawn to over ten years ago now.

He wants to kiss the version of it on Daniel’s face the moment that he gets close enough for Max to reach for, but they are fathers first now. Oli throws an arm around Max’s leg, hiding shyly behind him, and Livia informs him seriously, “Papa, I gave Oli my flower power to help him be brave.” 

Even as Max and Daniel exchange a grin, something thicker settles into Max’s throat. He can hardly believe it sometimes, that after years of traveling the world together, fatherhood is yet another adventure he gets to have with Daniel. 

“Hi baby,” is all Daniel says, cupping Max’s face gently. He is the picture of smug, and Max lets him revel in his glory for a moment, before crouching down to be eye level with their children. 

Glancing up at Daniel, Max asks instead, “do you think I could borrow him for a moment, so we can get married?” 

“Guys,” he says seriously, touching each of their sticky-warm cheeks in turn gently, just as their other father had touched his. “Thank you for helping daddy get to me safely.”

When they’d practiced, Joe had been the one leading Daniel up the aisle. Max remembers that this is supposed to be the part where the registrar asks who gives Daniel to be married, but there is no giving away to be done now. They have always belonged to each other, and now to their children as well, just as much.  

“Yes, yes, yes!” Livia declares, throwing her hands into the air excitedly. Oliver is less certain, but Victoria and Grace both speak up then, all gentle encouragement to coax them both back to their seats. They go- each with a parting kiss- and then Max straightens up again, Daniel is looking at him with the same shit eating grin.  

Good surprise? He mouths as the registrar begins the formalities, and Max does his best not to roll his eyes as he lets the fond smile overtake him again. Anything to do with their babies is lovely, so it’s not like it was really a gamble. 

It’s enough even, to blunt the sharp edges in Max’s chest when he looks at the two empty seats in the front row he had asked Victoria to keep free just in case. Fatherhood gave him a renewed belief that indifference and disapproval were not gaps that couldn’t be bridged with love. Now it’s enough to know that whatever divide might have formed between the family he was born into, there is nothing he wouldn’t find a way to cross for the family he made for himself. 

As if that has ever been anything other than the truth.  

He takes Daniel’s hands and repeats everything he needs to so that they can make what Max has always known to be true, official. When Max kisses Daniel, he feel both the promise of new beginning, and the fifteen years of shared history.  

“Who would have thought it, Verstappen?” Daniel teases as he pulls away from their first kiss as a married couple, but Max knows he is thinking the same thing when he adds, softer, “all mine now, Maxy.”  

What is a perfect day for them, is of course a little more boring for the babies. Halfway through signing the register, the children start to fuss, and so they end up with one on each knee, Livia demanding her flower crown back, and Oli forever eager to please the sister he adores. Somewhere, the same song the three of them made their entrance too fades back in and Daniel starts to dramatically mime the words to Max, like the show off he and Michelle both know he is. 

Your love will be, safe with me.