#styles!reader

[hearts4steve]

જ⁀➴ red sea

joe keery x styles!reader

“seriously, em, it’s like i’ve got bigfoot in between my legs.” you complained to your friend over the phone. “it wasn’t like this was dalton. my stomach’s way too big to get all up in there, and there’s no way i’m not getting rid of it before i give birth.”

“why don’t you ask gemma?” she hummed. “she’d get it.”

“anniversary.” you grumbled. “italy.”

“ooh nice.”

“not nice!” you said louder than necessary. “i can’t even get on a two hour plane because they’ll think i’ll pop mid air. and now i don’t think they’ll let me on because they’ll think i’m harboring a bear in between my legs.”

emily cackled. “why don’t you ask joe? he wouldn’t mind.”

“ask me what?”

you jumped. “how do you walk so… silently?”

he shrugged, popping dalton’s left over strawberries in his mouth. he waved to the screen. “hi emily.”

she waved back. “hi joe.”

“what were you two talking about?”

your mouth opened and closed. you turned to look at your screen for some help from emily only to find out she had hung up.

traitor.

“i’ve… i’ve grown a bush.” you said quietly.

“mm, i know.” he nodded. “i love it.”

your face turned red. “joe!”

“what! i’m being honest!”

you attempted to cross your arms over your chest, but failed given the planet that is your stomach.

“so what? you two were just talking about your bush?”

“i need it gone.”

his jaw dropped. “you’re getting rid of it?”

“well don’t seem so disappointed!”

“i am!”

you pushed his arm playfully. “it needs to go. can you help? can’t reach.”

“can i help? baby, i’m the designated barber back home. i cut my friends hair for a living.”

you scrunched your nose up and tilted your head. “that can’t be right.”

“let’s go give you a trim.” he stood up abruptly, offering you his hand.

“bald, joe. i want to be glistening. not a single hair left behind. you’ve got to get in between everything. okay?”

he placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you. “i’ll part you like the red sea, baby, don’t worry.”

you turned to look at him only to find him being oh so serious. you burst out in laughter, leaning on him for support.

“how did you even think of that!”

“i’m a natural.” he shrugged, a grin tugging on his lips.

“remind me to tell em later, oh god, joe.” you wiped your wet eyelashes with the back of your index finger. you sighed, recomposing yourself. you put a hand on your stomach and waddled to the bathroom.

“part me like the red sea.” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head ever so slightly. “genius.”

that day, joe walked around with his chest puffed up in pride; he made a woman too pregnant to find anything amusing cry from laughter.

[skydrain]

Sick Day

I had a dream the other night and realized I have been so terribly inactive on Tumblr and figured I could just put this out there. Completely take a turn in my account. So, I do realize this is so incredible niche. Do I care? No. Do I hope people like it? Obviously. Anyway, I hope this finds people who at least respect the vision lmao.

Summary: Y/N Swift-Styles (adoptive if you would please, bc shes like 16) spends the day in the Reynolds' house because Harry is across the world and Taylor has places to be and people to see (not in a bad way, she's a very good mom).

Disclaimers: nothing really, sicky stuff like sneezing and a puke bucket, no actual throwing up though. Other than that it's just cute family stuff and maybe a smidge of going crazy in emotional haze. Also, I totally made stuff up and did very little research. I am by no means pretending I know anything about these peoples lives.

Pay no mind to any spelling mistakes, sorry <3

Feel free to leave any constructive criticism, love that stuff truly

Sick Day

Y/N woke up with a very very stuffy nose. Not out of the norm if she’s completely honest, especially this time of year. Goddamn seasonal allergies amiright? However, the headache and full body chills is what allerted her that she could most certainly not go with her mom to the studio today and hang out doing online school like planned. 

Y/N walked into the living room where Taylor was collecting her sheet music and trying to put her many many sets of lyrics into order. 

“Moooommmm, *sniffle* I don’t feel good,” Y/N said as she plucked a tissue from the end table. 

Taylor whipped her head around when she heard her daughter's groggy voice. Quickly standing from the couch, she hurried towards her daughter and held her shoulder as she blew her nose. 

“Oh you poor thing, let me check your temperature,” rushing off to the bathroom, Taylor quickly returned with a thermometer and had Y/N put it under her tongue. Guiding her daughter to the couch, she grabbed the thermometer back and saw 100*f showing back. Grabbing Y/N’s shoulder and tugging her under her arm into a hug, Taylor began to think through her options. 

“Oh sweetheart, I feel terrible leaving you here alone like this, do you feel comfortable being alone, or I could maybe call Blake and see if you could go over to theirs?” Taylor made sure Y/N’s eyes were actually focussed on her as she asked. 

“No, I don’t want the kiddos to get sick *sniffle*,” was her response as she shoved her face into her mom’s side.

Little did she know Taylor was already ringing Blake to make sure her baby wasn’t left alone while she went to the studio. 

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s up?” Blake exclaimed as she answered the phone. Taylor was disappointed to hear that she was obviously calling from a car.

“Y/N is sick but I need to go to the studio and Travis is obviously not here, and Harry is pointless to contact because he’s even more so not here. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking her for a bit just so I know she's eating and not going to pass out, but I can hear your driving– “ Taylor was cut off by Blake. 

“Oh my poor fifth child. I wish I could, but me and the kiddos are on our way to my sister's house at the moment. BUT! Ryan is home right now and I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take her. He’s just doing some last minute line stuff and making sure he’s got his shit together before his meeting with the Marvel people Thursday. Hanging out with Y/N won’t bother him at all.”

“Oh, no no. That’s not necessary. I wouldn't want to bother him with this, I got it handled– “ again Taylor was cut off. 

“Hang on girl, we’re your village right now. A village that's happy to help I assure you. I'll call Ryan and have him call you. Don’t you sweat,” Blake hung up before Taylor got the chance to argue again.

All Taylor could do was sit and wait for Ryan to call and hopefully convince him it wasn’t necessary and she could have her personal assistant stay with Y/N for a few hours then cut her studio day short. 

Taylor glanced down at Y/N, it seems she had fallen back to sleep against her mothers side. That was okay, as long as she was comfortable Taylor was happy. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing with Ryan’s contact popping up on the screen. She quickly answered and was prepared to start her speech but Ryan had begun before she could. She swore, the more she talked to him, the more it seemed like Deadpool was him and he was Deadpool.

“Hello Ms. Swift-Kelce, you've reached Ryans Daycare services, at what time will you be dropping off my fifth-favorite child (not that any of the other four are in any particular order mind you)?” He cheerfully greeted. 

“Ryan, seriously, as I told Blake, I don't want to disrupt you guys. She said you were busy, I don’t want to step on your toes,” Taylor responded exasperatedly, not taking the effort to comment on the Kelce name. She did however think to herself that she was happy she only had cats in addition to her one human child. 

“Um, no, sorry. The words ‘disrupt’ and ‘busy’ are not in my vernacular when pertaining to family and friends. Seriously, drop her off when you need to. I’ll get her set up in front of the tv with a bucket and pack of tissues and we can watch my entire filmography and it’ll make her good as new,” Ryan responded. Taylor swore she could feel his eye roll.

Heaving a sigh in response, Taylor finally conceded, “Okay, we’ll be by in a little over half an hour, I’ll have my driver take us by yours on the way to the studio. Thank you Ryan, I’ll make it up to you.”

“No thanks necessary, I will however accept a voucher that I can redeem on the day one of my kiddos graduates for a One Direction reunion at her grad party as payment,” he said cheekily, “see you in a half hour,” and hung up.

Once again heaving a sigh, Taylor resumed packing her papers into her bag while trying to keep Y/N asleep. Once ready, she began gently rubbing Y/N’s back to rouse her awake.

“C’mon hun, Ryans gonna take you for the day, okay?” Taylor put on her own shoes after handing Y/N’s to her. 

“Ooo! Okay *sniffle*, let me grab my phone and blow my nose one more time,” Y/N said as she headed back to her room. 

Once she came back, this time with her shoes on and phone in hand, the two made their way down to the lobby and were assisted into the back of Taylor's car.

Getting to the Reynolds house was quick work, though Y/N assumed that was mainly due to her hazy bouts of consciousness. God, she couldn’t wait to sink into their nice plush couch. 

There was something amazing about being taken care of like family by people who have no real obligation to you. Taylor and Harry were amazing parents. And Travis is iconic for sure. And Y/N was so so sure Kylie and Jason and their girls were gonna be phenomenal, but there was something so incredible about the Reynolds that has had her completely besotted since she met them. 

Maybe it was Ryans crack-head energy, or Blakes ever coolness, but they were definitely great people that Y/N was so happy her mom had in their lives. 

Speaking of, they were quietly pulling into their driveway now. Y/N could see Ryan opening the front door and standing there like a dork holding out a box of tissues like an offering. 

Taylor opened the door and made sure Y/N didn’t fall as she got out of the SUV. The two made their way to Ryan and Y/N happily took the offered box. 

“Sorry Blake and the munchkins aren't here kiddo, but you and I are gonna have the best movie marathon ever!” Ryan informed Y/N.

“You'll have more fun here than you would alone at home I’m sure, I’ll call the two of you when I’m on my way out of the studio alright?” Taylor got two nods in return. She made sure to thank Ryan a few more times, and kiss Y/N on the head, before making her departure back to the car. 

“Alright Y/N, let's get you set up on the couch,” Ryan helped Y/N through the door and lifted the fuzziest blanket she’s ever seen from the couch to make room for her to lay. 

After getting her situated, Ryan grabbed the TV remote and asked Y/N to pick what they’d be watching. After a few seconds of silence, Ryan turned to her and expected her to be asleep, that however, was not the case, and she was sitting there with tears brimming her water line. 

“Oh goodness sweetheart, what's wrong?! I’ve only had you five minutes and I’ve already caused tears,” Ryan sounded so in distress it was only causing Y/N to actually start crying. 

“I want to watch the gay boys,” she admitted very quietly after a few seconds of sniffling and one blowing of her nose into a tissue. 

“Okay, ….I’m going to need a tad more information than that darling,” Ryan responded, feeling very confused, “Are we talking actually gay like Red White and Royal Blue, or Heartstopper, or something more underlying homoerotic like the Newsies, or Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes?” 

Ryan patiently sat and waited for a response, even if he felt quite out of his depth. I mean, who is he to judge what her comfort movie or show is, really. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N responded with a stronger burst of tears this time. 

“Okay, okay,” Ryan took a deep breath and tried to think. He’s a girl dad, he can do this. If he can’t even do this now then what does that say for his future with his own kids. He can do this, “alright! How about I make a wheel? A nice little one from google. We can put all the movies or shows you want to watch in there and neither of us have to choose, how’s that sound?” 

Ryan was feeling quite proud of himself with this idea, and Y/N seemed to be pretty on board, but then her face pinched up, and he didn’t know what he’d do if she started crying again. 

Y/N quickly grabbed another tissue and sneezed. God she hated being sick. It made her so emotional with all the overstimulation of feeling hot then cold, and the tissues becoming rougher and rougher on her nose, and her ears keep popping. Ryans idea sounded glorious. A wheel of her favorite things so she’d be happy no matter the outcome AND she didn’t even have to choose herself. Yes please. 

Finding her phone in the cushions, Y/N searched through her imessages to find the list of movies she had sent her mom to be downloaded to her plane's video software. Handing it to Ryan, Y/N watched as his form instantly relaxed and he began typing the titles into the wheel as he said. Once finished, he handed her phone back and also gave her his own so Y/N could spin the wheel. 

Clicking the button, Y/N watched the movies go around and around. Ryan even tapping a drum roll out on his thighs to make Y/N giggle. Y/N was quite happy when the wheel stopped on X-Men: First Class. Nothing better than some Cherik and Jennifer Lawrence for when you’re sick. 

Taking his phone back, Ryan quickly got Disney+ up and running to play the movie. If he was feeling a little jealous that she preferred x-men over his own Deadpool that he snuck onto the wheel, well, that was for him and nobody else to know about. He personally loved watching Deadpool when feeling under the weather. 

Hopefully his new project will make it onto the list of her favorite underlying homoerotic movies. 

Once the movie was playing, the two settled down to watch with rapt attention. Ryan would sometimes be disrupted by Y/N sneezing beside him, but it was pretty smooth sailing through the beginning. Ryan could see Y/N’s head turning into the pillow before jerking up to the screen again, but didn’t pay it too much mind. She’d sleep in no time.

Only, he probably should’ve kept a closer eye. The next time her head jerked up was when the youngins were all giving each other nicknames. It was quite a cute moment really. Only, Ryan turned to Y/N and saw more tears welling up. 

“Oh gosh, what’s up honey?” Ryan asked, trying to sound as upbeat as he could through his panic.

“I missed when Logan told them to fuck off,” Y/N responded with a wavering voice. 

Ryan again felt incredible relief, “oh thats an easy fix, we can rewind no problem sweetheart,” Ryan leaned forward for the remote and began to rewind back to when Charles and Erik began selecting mutants, all the while listening to Y/N’s cries lessen into sniffles. This also assured Ryan that maybe he would make it onto the favorites list…  everyone loves Hugh Jackman. 

Playing the movie from that point went fine. Y/N actually settled down to actually fall asleep after the Cherick gun-to-head bonding. 

Once she was asleep, Ryan felt comfortable running up to his office to bring his project outlines down to the dining table.  

This is how they spent the next few hours. Ryan woke Y/N to eat some soup he made, and then did end up putting on Red White and Royal Blue because he hadn't seen it. Y/N ended up falling asleep again around the group's Texas trip. 

Near the end of the film, Taylor called Ryan and informed him she’d be by in twenty minutes, along with another string of unnecessary apologies. 

Ryan decided to let Y/N sleep and welcomed Taylor in to wake her. The last thing he needed today was another bout of tears. 

After Taylor and Y/N hugged Ryan bye (with another round of thanks and sorrys) the two got back in the car and made their way to their apartment. 

“Did you have a good day sweetheart?” Taylor asked.

“Yeah, I had a good couple sleeps and food,” was all she responded with. Taylor figured that was good. Usually when at the Reynolds' she comes home with stories of the mischievous activities they got up to. Taylor can imagine that the lack of details means it was pretty tame, she’ll have to call Ryan for more details, but that could wait. 

Arriving at their building, Taylor and Y/N made their way into the lobby, both thanking the doorman of course, and up the elevator to their apartment. 

“Go take another nap sweetie, you look like you need it,” Taylor got Y/N laid out in her bed and got her shoes off her before tucking her in. Meredith even joined her in Y/N’s room and hopped up on the bed to begin her healing purrs. 

Kissing Y/N on the head, Taylor left the room to start making a light dinner. She’ll have to look into what it’d take the 1D boys to perform at James’ graduation party. She had like nine years, she’ll make it work. 

The End

[parkers-gal]

omg i love your styles!reader fics (and your writing in general, you’re so talented) !! can you do blurb where tom and styles!reader have been married for like a year or two and they tell their families that they’re expecting and then maybe flash forward to when the baby is born and harry cries meeting them?

combined requests: hi can u do a dad tom and reader. and they have a baby shower for the reader. I love all your story’s btw:)

wc: 2k

requests are open (love you // hope u like this)

—

“Are you excited?”

“I’m nervous.” You let out a measly laugh while Tom’s left hand moved from gripping your thigh to hovering above your lower abdomen.

You weren’t showing yet, of course. It had only been a few weeks since the two of you had found out. Two years into your marriage and the two of you had discussed to start trying for a family. You’d never told anyone that, so you expected the announcement to be quite a surprise for everyone.

Tom was a very private guy, especially growing up in the public eye. His family was off limits, and the minute you came into the picture, that trait only amplified. Now that you were married, he’d been a bit more private about his marriage life, especially around his family. It was a weird dynamic at first, because Tom is a very open man who loves his family very much.

But he also knows his family isn’t a private one when it comes to the media, and involving you would mean every aspect of your life would be outed. And he didn’t want that, so the two of you weren’t ridiculously close with either of your families.

It was a weird detail, really. One you didn’t really notice until a year after your marriage.

It was even weirder, however, that there happened to be an entire week where both your family and Tom’s family were available for a lunch date. Harry was usually writing an album or prepping for a tour, and you were glad he kept himself busy. Tom and his younger brother would usually be working on a project together, so having everyone home was exciting and nerve wracking.

“They’re all gonna know we’ve had sex.”

“I think they knew before,” He chuckled at your reaction, mouth ajar while you slapped his upper arm playfully.

“Who’s fault is that?”

“Sure, blame the guy who knocks you up.”

“Okay, mister.” You shuffle his curls, which are arranged messily for a Saturday.

Fifteen minutes later and the two of you are walking into the Holland household. You can already hear your brother’s minged shouts and hollers about whatever conversation he must be having with Harry, Tom’s brother. You’re quite certain you’ve never seen such a British interaction.

“The all-star couple is finally here!”

“Hey!” Harry drags out the end syllables while he brings you into a sloppy hug. “Baby sis.”

“Don’t ever call me that again,” You laugh at his tone, the words foriegn for him.

“Yeah, that was weird as fuck the minute I said it.”

You glanced over to Tom, who was hugging his brothers and his mother. You grinned as you made your way over to them, embracing them just as he had before linking your hand with Tom’s and sitting in a patio chair beside his.

“How is everything in your married-life?”

“Low-key, really.” You admitted, it was true. The first few months had been exhausting yet fulfilling, but now you felt yourself settling down for the long run. Tom could feel it too, especially with the unannounced baby Holland on the way.

“Yeah, mum,” He bit into a snickerdoodle. “Not much going on for us.”

“Didn’t you just wrap that upcoming film?”

“The London one, yeah.” He nods along and you get lost in conversation with Sam and Elysia. They’ve been together for quite awhile, and you suspect their own wedding might be within the near future.

You’re about an hour into the lunch when you make eye contact with Tom, communicating without words. He stands up, wiping his hands off on a napkin before pulling you up.

“We have… some new to share.”

Eyes glance up to the only two people standing at the table, and Harry (your brother) swallows a bite of bread before encouraging you. “Well, get on with it then.”

Your mom whips the back of his head, and you laugh. Gemma chuckles at them before glancing at you inquisitively. You’re very open with her, but from the look on your face, she knows this is something nobody else knows of.

“We are very happy to announce….” You start it, but urge Tom to finish what you cannot.

“That the newest member of the Holland-Styles clan will be coming by the end of this year.”

You watch as mouth’s drop open in the final realization at what this means. Gemma sits back in her chair, left hand above her chest, against her shirt with wide eyes and mouth ready to catch flies. You smile in excitement, and Nikki and your mom stand quickly for hugs, pushing their chairs back as they scrape against the concrete of the backyard patio.

Tom’s hand is linked to yours still, and when you momentarily let go, you feel almost abandoned and lost without him.

After a few rounds of accepting ‘congratulations!’you realize your brother has yet to move from his seat. When you glance at him after everyone’s settled back down, he’s looking in his lap. Gemma catches on, and so does Sam. Eventually, all eyes are on the Styles boy.

“Har?” You speak hesitantly in the tense situation. “You okay?”

When he picks his head up, he sniffles and you notice his red eyes. You jutt a lip out as you hear a few of the girls vocally “aw” at his state. He stands quickly, chair scraping just as everyone else’s had, and he makes his way over you.

You get lost in his embrace, hugging him tightly. He’s still crying slightly as he whispers a few words into your ears. He’s emotional upon realizing he’ll be an uncle in just a few months, emotional upon realizing you’ve grown up so much from the little girl that used to rub frosting on his nose and dimples.

You rub his back soothingly, and when you separate he gives you a weak smile. He maneuvers around you to hug your husband, who chuckles when he’s embraced roughly, tightly. Their hands are each on each other’s back, and a memory flashes in your mind, one of your wedding, when Harry cried so much you had to ask someone to buy more tissues.

You’re nostalgic about today’s encounter, and you don’t know what to expect when the baby really does come.

**

You’re seven months along, baby bump big as ever. Tom’s almost as protective as Tessa now that you’re so far along. As far as cliches go, you’ve just arrived to a basically surprise baby shower. You know it must’ve taken Tom weeks to plan something like this, and it must’ve been even harder to keep it a secret from you.

You kiss his forehead when you finally see why you’re at his mom’s house. Both yours and his moms are conversing in the corner after greeting the two of you. There’s a table of presents beside a snack area. You can see a few of your craving-snacks, and you hug Tom as best you can. He kisses your temple.

There’s not many people here, only your closest friend circle and your family members. You see Harry and Gemma in the corner, and make your way over to your siblings with a smile. You're swollen with the baby bump, so you’re not moving as fast, but you’re just as excited.

“Baby on the way,” You announce as you hug them. “Thanks for doing this, guys.” You blush as you gesture to everything around you. Harry shrugs with a cocky smile, and Gemma smiles lovingly. You see Sam and Elysia heading towards you, and Gemma makes her way to the snack table for some lemonade.

“Y/N!” Elysia drags out your name in excitement, hugging you carefully. “How is everything?”

“Ugh,” You groan jokingly, a hand rubbing up and down your bump. “Exhausting, really. She’s a handful.”

She smiles, and Sam’s hand stays on the small of her back as she leans into him. He excuses himself momentarily, and you lean in close to Elysia when he’s gone.

“Are you two engaged?”

She looks at you with a blush before shaking her head. “No… but I feel like he’s going to propose soon.”

You squeal and try your hardest not to cry. “Man, these hormones are crazy.” She laughs, nodding along. Unbeknownst to you, Sam had made his way over to the two older brothers of the Holland family. They’re sipping beer by the patio sliding door.

“Hey, guys.” The boys look up at the sound of Sam’s soft voice. He’s almost hushed, and they use context to realize he looks a bit serious.

“What’s up?” Harry’s hand pats his shoulder as if to comfort his anxious state.

Same turns his head to look at Elysia, who’s across the yard talking to you. “I think I’m going to propose soon.” Tom nearly chokes on his drink. “What? Man, that’s amazing!” He’s whispering out, breathing erratically from excitement.

Harry stares out, blinking in surprise. He’d seen in coming, but that would never amount to the realization that the Holland boys are growing up. “Do you have a ring or something?” They huddle close as Sam brings them closer in response to Harry’s question.

He pulls out a velvet box from an inner-jacket pocket. When he opens the case, they gasp in awe.

“Man,” Tom pats his back again, lovingly. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, man. I’m nervous.” He wipes his hands on his thighs as he hides the ring in his clothes again.

“Don’t worry.” Harry glances over at the two of you. “She loves you so much. You’re gonna get the happy ending.”

They continue talking until your mum, Anne, announces it’s time to open a few presents. You reunite with Tom for the first time since arriving, trying not to come off as too flustered, but you know you are. You know you’ll cry — and dramatically too, because your hormones are off the radar — if anyone gives you a really meaningful present.

You open a few, some just basic cleaning supplies for diaper-care, others range from cute clothes to bedding sheets. When you open Harry’s gift, it’s a CD case with a picture of the Styles family on the cover.

When you open the case, you see a message in print. He’d written you a few songs, for Tom and the baby too. You nearly burst into tears as you stand up as quickly as possible. Tom helps you stand while you make your way over to your older brother, hugging him as if your life depends on it.

“You’re gonna be a great uncle, Harry.”

***

When they said the birth process was painful, they didn’t mention how much. Tom fainted about an hour and a half into it, after glancing where he shouldn’t have. You laughed while the doctors got him standing again. He was by your side for the entire time, and when you finally gave your last push, the two of you heard the wales of your sweet baby girl.

“Did so well, love.” You’d heard him whisper while he kissed your sweaty forehead.

Seven hours later, you were sitting up after having just slept for a good amount of time. Scarlet was sleeping calmly in your arms. Tom was squeezed onto the bed next to you, arms carefully wrapped around your exhausted body. He’d cried four times already.

“Ma’am, your families are here.” A nurse had come into the room with a small smile before opening the door wider to allow visitors in.

Harry and Gemma were first up. They’d been here the longest, having received a call when they were closer to the hospital than everyone else.

You glanced up when you heard Harry gasp. “She’s beautiful.” He whispered, tip toeing over to the bed, seating himself in one of the chairs.

“C- can I hold her?” You nod, handing him the small child. He graciously takes her in his tattoo covered arms, holding her head cautiously while he coos at her. She wakes momentarily to giggle at the new arms. He visibly pouts, and when you notice water on Scarlet, you grow worried.

But all of that is washed down the drain when you see Harry’s red, teary eyes. He smiles happily, even through the tears, and you breathe out a laugh through your own cries.

“She looks just like you.”

You wipe a tear away, reaching out to hold one of his hands.

“Just like you.”

[hearts4steve]

Joe and styles!reader request

Shes trying to kiss joe on the lips but joe blocked her kiss and she was confused why and asked and he said he has the flu and doesn't want her sick as well so she takes care of him but he spends the full day avoiding her kisses until she finally catches him off guard and steals one from him!

i loveeee this thank u for requesting baby!!! hope u enjoy :))

જ⁀➴ feverish temptations

joe keery x styles reader

a part of my styles!reader au!

you woke up like you would every other day; with an empty bed, but the smell of whatever breakfast joe had crafted flowing through your apartment.

you inhaled deeply, stretching.

you smelled tea. no coffee—just tea. that definitely threw you off. joe always made himself a mug of coffee and you a cup of tea. every morning without fail.

when you made your way to the living room only to see joe laying the upper part of his body on the kitchen island, you were confused.

“are you dead?”

he jolted up. “oh. hi.” he smiled sheepishly. “it’s a bit hot and the marble is cold.”

you frowned. it wasn’t hot at all.

he turned to tend to the tea and you slithered up from behind him, arms wrapped around his torso.

you placed a single kiss on the dip between his neck and shoulder, then nuzzled your nose there. he was a bit warm.

“you’re all good, yeah?” you hummed against his skin, earning a ‘yup’

“alright then. i’ll leave you to it.” you pressed another kiss to his shoulder and walked away.

when he came to sit with you, two mugs of tea in hand, you were slightly confused. one was how you like to take it—with milk and sugar—and the other was a greenish color. something herbal. something medicinal?

you leaned to press a kiss to his lips as a thank you when he suddenly grabbed a throw pillow and placed it between you two, your face colliding with the bag of feathers.

you let the pillow fall before you spoke up. “what was that?”

“i’m… a bit sick.” he admitted. “don’t want you to catch anything.”

“i knew it, you twerp.” you huffed. you got up and placed your mug on the coffee table, then took his from his hands and placed it on the coffee table too.

“what’re you—”

“shush.”

“okay.”

you turned him around, back resting on the armrest, and placed the fluffiest pillow you could find in between his body and the couch. you grabbed his ankles and stretched his legs and finally threw your favorite fuzzy blanket over him.

you handed him his tea back, making sure it was still hot.

“better?”

“you didn’t have to-”

“shush.” you sat on the edge of the couch, running a hand through his hair.

“okay.”

you placed the back of your hand to his forehead. “you really are warm, joe.” you moved your hand to his cheek, not any better. “you poor thing.”

he pouted—legitimately pouted, lip jutted and all.

“i could kiss that pout right off your face, y’know that?” the moment those words left your lips, he brought his mug to his mouth.

you rolled your eyes jokingly, ruffled his hair, and got up.

you filled his water bottle and brought him two tylenol pills.

when you reemerged to the living room, you’d found that joe hadn’t moved an inch. he was staring at his cup of tea mumbling quietly to yourself.

“i hope schizophrenia isn’t a new fever symptom.” you said jokingly, plopping the pills in his hand.

“just thinking.” he muttered, throwing his head back to take the pills and downing them with water.

“love you.”

his cheeks puffed up as he attempted to swallow down his mouthful of water.

he opened his mouth with a slight gasp—having gone a few seconds with no air due to his…

“lobe you.”

your eyes widened and a grin broke out on your face.

he hid his face in the cushion next to him.

“what was that?”

“nothing.” he mumbled against the fabric.

“c’mon joe, tell me you love me back! don’t leave me hanging!”

he glared at you. “i lobe you.”

“i lobe you too.” you mocked him, inching your face closer to his. his breath hitched and you thought this was finally it. he’d let you kiss him—

he turned his face abruptly, your lips meeting his cheek. “i’m gonna get you, keery.”

he shrugged, a satisfied smile on his face.

you went to the kitchen to cook him chicken noodle soup—a universal medicine to whatever it is that makes you feel slightly under the weather.

when you brought the bowl to the living room, you insisted on feeding him. not that he put up much of a fight anyway. he would never admit it, but he loves being babied. especially by you. only by you.

you cleaned up some soup that had dribbled down his lip with a tissue, your finger resting on his lip for a moment longer than necessary.

“i miss your lips.” you admit with a sigh, scooping up the next spoonful of soup.

joe’s face turned red. “you’ll reunite once i feel better.”

“yeah, alright.” you grumbled, holding the spoon to his mouth. “open up.”

you knew you should’ve been disgusted, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. you were absolutely smitten as you spoon fed a snotty, sweaty joe.

“why are you smiling?” he asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing.

you shook your head, settling the now empty bowl down. you got up and pressed a long kiss to the crown of his head. you took the bowl and headed to the kitchen, joe’s confused gaze not leaving you once.

you stood in front of the sink, looking up, blinking away tears. you let a humorless chuckle. why were you even crying?

you let out a sniffle and rolled your sleeves up, ready to wash the dishes.

“baby?” joe’s raspy voice was closer than it should’ve been.

you jumped and turned around. “darling, you need to lay down—”

he dragged his feet to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “why’re you crying?”

you crumbled under his gaze, eyes welling and bottom lip trembling. your voice gave you away. “i just—i love you so much. it’s very overwhelming.”

“baby.” you could hear the soft smile on his face as he pulled you into his embrace.

you hid your face in his shirt, undoubtedly leaving wet stains.

he pressed repeated kisses to the crown of your head. “you’re so precious. my precious girl.”

you looked up at him through your tears, eyes sparkling with adoration.

you quickly leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. you separated with a theatrical mwah!

“told you i was gonna get you.”

he shook his head, chuckling softly. “don’t come complaining to me next week when you get all sick.”

“i will and you’ll love it.”

“yeah.”

[hearts4steve]

જ⁀➴ publicly private

joe keery x styles!reader

part of my styles!reader au!

cw: reader having shitty boyfriends, just fluff in general, not proofread

with your twin brother being harry styles, you were very much exposed to the music industry.

you’ve been given the opportunity to become the next big thing multiple times, but you flat out refused. you refused to join an industry where scrutiny was a must.

when your brother brought home taylor swift, you two instantly bonded over music. gradually, your conversations ventured beyond music and into your personal lives.

she quickly became a friend you could confide in. tens years after your brother and her broke up, your friendship still remained.

your casual conversations were written in poetry; she often took your words and transformed them to fit a synth beat.

she invited you over to the studio multiple times, claiming you had a gift that could turn her lyrics from good to best.

oftentimes, the most gut wrenching lyrics on her albums came from you. she felt obliged to ask you if everyone was okay with you and joe, but you reassured her everything was more than okay. you’ve been dating since he was still filming the second season of stranger things. 6 years and not a single (real) fight.

just tiny arguments that were instantly resolved with a hundred kisses and a million ‘sorry’s.

you were drifting off to sleep when a random tune came to mind. you shot up, your best friends album in mind, and ran to the piano, already having opened the voice memo app and started recording.

“harry—get off!” you tried pushing your brother off the piano bench.

“i’m using it!” he retaliated.

“i need it!” one final push sent him toppling over the edge.

“um.. okay-” you trailed off, trying to hum back the tune. your fingers danced around the keys before you started pressing on them. “it kinda sounds depressing on the piano, maybe a synth beat? dunno.”

you brought the tune in your mind to life and hummed along, building the basis of a song. you sent it to taylor and 10 minutes later she sent back a video of her crying saying she knew exactly where to take this.

the next morning, taylor told you to come over to the studio to get the song done.

she angled the phone so it would get both of you sitting in front of the piano. she had told you where she wanted to to take the trajectory of the lyrics, and you were ready to write it out.

you and taylor’s song writing process looked more like a duet than anything else; where she paused, you continued immediately.

“said forever, then he blew it up, oh, oh. my boy only breaks his favorite toys, toys.” you saw her eyebrows furrow, and you continued for her.

“just say when, i’d play again. he was my best friend and that was the worst part. i felt more then, in brief moments-”

her eyes lit up, “than with all the kens cause he took me out of my box.”

you ended your session with hearts heavy with the weight of everything that went unspoken.

“that was sad.” taylor blinked.

“think that synth beat is a need.” you nodded.

“are you sure everything is okay with you and joe-”

“tay, we’re fine. great, even. not every guy before him was as good as him. just resurfacing old feelings for the sake of songwriting.”

she nodded, “i get that.”

a huge smile broke out on her face when her phone lit up, revealing travis kelce—her boyfriend so new the news outlets had yet to find out about him—calling her.

“yeah, you do.” you smiled, nudging her shoulder with yours.

joe picked you up from the studio and went to get coffee. “i’m glad she found someone, y’know.” you said, voice muffled from the croissant taking up half your mouth.

“close your mouth, you animal.” his tone was anything but menacing. it was the opposite. he had the widest grin on his face, and was resting on the palm of his hand. he was staring at you with such a lovestruck expression, you blushed under his gaze.

you swallowed then, “you love this animal.”

“so much.” he said it like it hurt.

you could swear your own eyes turned into hearts. “you’re what i’ve been looking for my entire life.”

“you found me.” he brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“no, seriously, joe. today—i just kept remembering everyone before you and i just got so angry. angry that i wasted my time with them when i could’ve been with you.” you admitted. “they treated me like loving me is a burden. you treat loving me like it’s breathing air.”

“because it is.” he ran his thumb along your knuckles. “loving you is the easiest thing i’ve ever done. i can’t imagine a life where i don’t.”

you brought his hand to your face and kissed his palm. “thank you for loving me, joe.”

on may 9th 2024, taylor played my boy only breaks his favorite toys for the first time on her tour. she kept the start of your voice memo—where you were fighting with harry over the piano—in the song.

it wasn’t hard to recognize the accents, and it was even easier to pin them to the worlds favorite set of twins.

on her last show in paris, you and joe flew out to attend the concert. she asked you if she could show the crowd the video of you two the first time you brought the song to life, and you agreed.

“you’ve been so lovely to me, paris, thank you!” she thanked, earning a roar from the crowd. “i have a little gift for you.” her infamous mischievous glint her eyes shining.

the big screen behind her changed to project the video she took of you two. “if you don’t know, y/n practically wrote this song, and i wanted to show you the very first demo. i’d like it if we were all quiet so we can truly appreciate her hard work.”

the crowd erupted in claps and cheers. joe tightened his grip around your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple.

the crowd was silent as you began playing the piano. your eyes darted behind your closed eyelids. to anyone, they would think you were trying to focus. but joe knew you better than anyone. he knew you were mapping out the song in your head; what lyrics go where, and how to sing them.

taylor wasn’t exaggerating—you really did write most of the song. you hadn’t even remembered.

seeing you sing the closing line, and being able to really see the sadness in your features made a tear slip. joe wiped it away before you even registered it falling.

he pressed a kiss to where it fell, and another, and another, and the crowd practically swooned.

what the crowd saw was your boyfriend pressing soft, slow kisses to your face. what they didn’t see was him hiding his face in yours to stop them from seeing the tears that fell from his own eyes.

he can’t believe anyone could make you feel like that, and he was partially upset with himself for not swooping in and saving you earlier.

you brought your hands to his face and cupped it. what everyone else didn’t see was your thumbs wiping his tears away.

it was in these publicly private moments you felt the luckiest.

everyone knew you loved each other, but they couldn’t begin to fathom the extent in which you loved each other.

when you got back to your hotel room that night, you were swimming in newfound vulnerability.

you were sitting in the balcony, wearing a one direction sweater you stole from harry’s closet, and joe’s sweatpants that were multiple sizes too big.

he walked out to you in his boxers. “i was looking for those.”

“should’ve put them on before me.” you shrugged, pulling your knees in to stare at the view. he took a seat next to you.

“paris is so pretty.” you hummed.

“yeah.” he agreed, breathless. he wasn’t looking at paris, though. he was looking at you.

“i’m gonna have to fly out to atlanta tomorrow.” he told you.

“what! they said you didn’t have to be back until later!” you huffed, staring at him with parted lips.

“i know, i’m sorry.” he frowned at your unhappy tone.

“i can’t stay in paris alone!”

“then don’t.” he blurted. “i want you with me.”

“in atlanta?”

“everywhere.” he clarified. “come with me to atlanta and never leave. i always miss you so much when we’re shooting, just come with.”

you moved over and sat on his lip, burying your face in this crook of his neck. “you’re so cute.”

“i’m so serious, baby. they’re always yelling at me because i’m so distracted, but i miss you all the time. i never want you to leave my side.”

you nuzzled deeper into him. “you’re so clingy. i’ll go wherever you want me to go, love.”

he didn’t know what came over him. you two have been engaged for a while now, and you were planning on having the wedding only after they wrapped the fifth season of stranger things.

but this was it.

seeing you in his clothes in his lap saying you’ll go wherever he goes.

he couldn’t push back being your husband.

“let’s elope.”

you tensed in his lap. you looked up at him. “what?”

he had to fight the urge to make fun of your british what.

“i know we said we’ll have the wedding after i finish filming season 5, but how could i wait? how could i spend another day not being your husband when you’re just so perfect. i can’t do it.”

your eyes went wide and you nodded. you let out a breathless laugh. “fuck yeah, let’s elope.”

[hearts4steve]

i need to know what it's be like if styles!reader went out for a girls night and joe invited harry over for a boys night with dalton (now what he can walk and babble a few words)

MAMA YESSSS i love this

જ⁀➴ still the one

joe keery x styles!reader

a part of my styles!reader au!

motherhood consumed your entire being and you weren’t complaining at all. yes, it was incredibly time consuming, but the diminishing of your social life wasn’t just because you were busy with dalton. you actually grew to prefer his company.

your friends with kids called you crazy. who’d willingly prefer to hang out with their husband and two year old? who’d pass up the opportunity of a long awaited girls night so they could get their hair pulled by their child instead?

you. unabashedly so.

you weren’t aware just how much you needed your family until they were in the palm of your hands.

they were everything you’ve ever wanted and way more. no feeling could compare to those evenings you and joe spent babbling away with dalton.

nonsense was spoken, but it was in a language you understood. a language you didn’t need to learn, one that came naturally.

when dalton requested to facetime one of your friends, who were you to deny him? you beared all 32 teeth as your friend popped up on the screen.

“babe, what happened to you.” emily gasped, concern dripping from her tongue.

you craned your neck to get a look at dalton’s face. there was a red splotch between his mouth and cheek. “oh, we had raspberries a moment ago. dalton loves raspberries, don’t you, love?” you cooed, wiping the splotch away with your thumb.

emily tutted, shaking her head. “no, darling, you.”

you frowned. “what’s wrong with me?”

“you look like you got into a fight with a raccoon.” she said honestly.

“i’m a mum!” you spluttered. that was your excuse for your two pigtails that were already coming undone, strands falling where dalton has relentlessly pulled. it was your excuse for the mystery stain on the shoulder of your shirt, and for the adorably tiny bite mark on your forearm.

“yeah, not a slave!”

“emily!”

“this has gone too far, my love. you’re going out with us tomorrow.” she sighed.

“but friday nights are when joe, dalton, and i have our fort—”

“friday nights are for going out! do you even hear yourself? you’ve literally become a slave to motherhood.”

“it’s not bad at all—”

“i know.” she didn’t, but she pretended to. “i know you love being a mum. you’re a damn great mum too. but you need a break, love. just so you don’t burn yourself out. how does that sound?”

“i don’t know, em…”

“you’ll go.” joe’s sudden voice made you jump, holding a hand over your heart.

“christ!”

“sorry, baby.” he leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek, then to the top of dalton’s head before giving your friend a polite smile and a wave.

“even joe agrees!” emily said exasperatedly.

“think it’s long overdue.” he chimed, picking dalton up from your lap, earning an enthusiastic squeak. “besides, we need a boys night. don’t we, bug?”

dalton clapped and squealed again before slamming his face into the crook of joe’s neck.

“you like that, bud? what do you think? should we invite uncle harry too? hm?”

dalton shot up, eyes wide and grinning toothlessly. “hazza! hazza!”

“s’all set then.” joe said with a firm nod.

now you really had no excuse not to go.

friday evening came around and you were getting ready. you dreaded every single second of it. you stared blankly at your once go to friday night outfit.

a lacy, black crop top with a neckline split low enough to leave very little to the imagination. you paired it with washed low rise jeans and one of joe’s black leather jackets.

you pulled your hair into a half up half down and gave another blank stare at the mirror.

when joe had told harry about his plan for a boys night with dalton, he knocked on the door bright and early at 8am.

cleared out an entire day’s schedule for his nephew and brother-in-law.

you weren’t alarmed when joe walked in your room without your son resting on his hips. you knew dalton attached himself to your brother the second he stepped foot in the house.

your name fell from joe’s lips in a whisper. an incantation, almost.

“i know.” you grumbled, doing your signature english-teacher-cardigan-pull with his jacket. “don’t look the same anymore.”

your main focus after giving birth wasn’t to lose the weight you gained. in fact, it hadn’t been something that crossed your mind until tonight. you had been perfectly occupied with your little boy to even glance at your deflated body.

“don’t—” he practically choked out, tugging the jacket open again. “don’t.”

“don’t what?”

“hide.” his throat bobbed, eyes darting all over your figure to take you in. he lifted his hand, grazing the new stretch marks that have taken place on your boobs.

his hands trailed down and rested on your waist, giving a firm squeeze. he smiled to himself as he felt the softness.

“you…” he trailed off, at a loss for words. he met your nervous gaze. “please.”

“sentences, love.” you couldn’t help but tease.

he blinked rapidly, as if he was just thrown back to earth. “you’re so gorgeous. don’t forget me, please.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “forget you? darling, i wouldn’t be able to forget you even if i tried.”

“you won’t try, though.”

“you asking or telling me?” you hummed, amused.

“little bit of both?” he grimaced.

you grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. “love you, dork.”

“love you more.” he muttered your name against your lips, hand trailing down your back to squeeze your—

“joe!” you gasped, laughing breathlessly. you slapped his hand away.

joe sighed. “can’t blame a man for trying.”

“em’s gonna be here any minute.” you said quietly, secretly hoping he’d beg you not to go. beg you to stay and spend some quality time with those you love the most.

“have fun today, yeah? dalton and harry are already napping on the couch. we’re all set for the day.”

you shake your head, a soft smile forming on your face. “always sleeping, those two.”

joe brushed your hair to the back of your shoulder, hand resting on your neck.

“are you sure you don’t need to me stay—”

he shook his head. “go. have fun.”

“i’d have more fun with you three.” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your jacket.

“no you wouldn’t.” he snorted. “tell you what, if you don’t like it and wanna come back home i’ll come pick you up. that sound good?”

you nodded, wiping your palms on the back of your jeans.

a loud ding! coming from your phone broke you two out of your trance.

you cleared your throat. “must be emily.”

“come on.” he held his hand out for you to take and walked you to the door. you stood in front of the couch for a moment, taking in the sight of your brother and your son. you snapped a picture then looked away, tears already forming.

joe immediately grabbed a tissue, dabbing it in the corner of your eye to prevent any tears from falling. “none of that.” he muttered.

your phone started vibrating in your hand.

“well, she’s not patient.” joe raised his eyebrows.

“absolutely not.” you laughed. you kissed joe goodbye then pressed a kiss to harry and dalton’s foreheads, leaving lipstick stains on your three boys.

“okay. bye for real now.” you sighed, squeezing joe’s arm.

your night was nothing short of spectacular. last time you got this drunk was when you were 19 and in college. that felt like a lifetime ago.

joe mentally prepared for endless men grinding up against you in whatever dark and sticky bar you went to. that hadn’t been on your agenda.

even when you were drunk out of your mind, all you could do was think about your boys.

you sat by the bar on a stool, sipping mindlessly on your drink.

a guy slid next to you, ordering a whiskey on the rocks before he turned to you. you subconsciously scrunched your nose up at him—he smelled like an ungodly amount of axe body spray and cinnamon gum.

he tried speaking to you, but you couldn’t feign interest for the life of you. couldn’t even maintain small talk.

your phone screen lit up and you smiled at the sight of your wallpaper—joe and dalton sleeping on the floor of his room after a long day of playing with legos.

“you got a kid?”

now that sparked your interest. that was something you could talk about.

“yes! 26 months.” you tilted your screen at him. “isn’t he just so precious?”

the guy stared off, nodding slowly as if he was thinking of a life-alterin decision. then, he spoke “father’s in the picture, or?…”

you blinked, then pointed at the man your son was sleeping on. “my husband.”

the man let out a loud and exaggerated sigh before chugging the rest of his whiskey and walking away.

“weirdo.” you grumbled to yourself.

“hey,” someone tapped on your shoulder. you twisted on your stool. “couldn’t help but overhear. my daughters 26 months too.”

“oh my god! what’s her name, if you don’t mind me asking?” you rested comfortably against the table. this was a conversation worth your time.

“harriet.” he answered. “after my grandma.”

“i love that! my brothers name is harry after my grandpa. what a coincidence.”

he furrowed his eyebrows at you, almost like he was trying to pinpoint something.

“what about your son? what’s his name?”

“dalton.” you answered immediately, already unlocking your phone and opening your photos app. “d’you wanna see pictures? i have a ton. he was playing with my husbands guitar the other day—oh my god, you just have to see. it was the cutest thing ever.”

“duh.”

you and this guy—who you later learned was called emmitt—spent around half an hour showing each other pictures of your children.

he saw a picture of dalton and joe and you swore you could seen something flicker in his eyes—something like almost-recognition.

when he saw the picture you took earlier today and of dalton and harry painting, it fully clicked. you could tell he put two and two together, but he didn’t say anything.

right now, you were just proud mother showing a proud father pictures of your son. not harry styles’ twin sister, or joe keery’s wife.

“you are not doing this right now.” emily spoke from behind you. “no more mama bear, please.”

she grabbed your hand and pulled you away from emmitt. you gave him an apologetic smile and he shrugged, understanding.

“you are going to dance. and drink. you will get so drunk you’re gonna forget your own name. okay?”

“okay.” you grumbled.

and that’s what you did.

you stumbled out of the bar late at night, giggly and unsteady

the boys had a completely different night.

harry and dalton woke up not long after you left, both sharing the same confused expressions over the lipstick stains on their foreheads.

suddenly, dalton isn’t joe’s carbon copy anymore. those are the styles’ facial expressions through and through.

dalton’s eyebrows furrowed, head turning frantically. “mama?”

“she’ll be back soon, bud.” joe said, setting a bowl of sliced apples in front of him.

“soon.” he repeated.

“yup.” joe nodded.

“eat up,” harry pointed at the bowl in front of dalton. “then we’ll build the fort.”

“for’!” dalton nodded excitedly.

“fort.” repeated joe, emphasis on the t.

“do not americanize my nephew!” harry gasped dramatically. “you’re right, little man. fort.”

“we gotta stick to an accent.” joe realized. “can’t speak half british half american.”

“british it is then.” harry sighed. “he’s british.”

“he’s a keery.”

“you take the styles out of england but not the english out the styles.” harry shrugged. “your words.”

“i think you twisted the lyrics a bit there, man.”

“really?” harry tilted his head in mock confusion. “don’t think i have.”

“oh, no, yeah, you’re right.” joe nodded, a smile he couldn’t fight back already on his face. “i mean, you know my songs better than me anyway, right?”

“for sure!” harry nodded.

dalton’s eyes widened. “song!”

“you wanna sing a song, bud?” joe asked.

“song! song! song!”

harry turned to look at joe, eyebrow raised slightly.

joe shrugged, “what good are we if we’re not his musical slaves?”

joe picked dalton up and carried him to the home studio, sitting in front of the drums while harry sat on a stool with an guitar in hand.

“i want song.” dalton said surely.

“you play song.” joe handed him the drumsticks.

“go on, then!” harry encouraged. “give us something to work with.”

dalton smacked a drumstick experimentally, leading it to fly across the room.

“woah!” harry’s eyes followed the flying stick.

“you’re gonna take someone’s eye out, bud!” joe laughed, catching the drumstick when harry threw it back. “think we should try this one out together, kay?”

“oh-kaaaaay!” dalton nodded.

they eventually built the fort (with dalton doing the watching, harry the judging, and joe the building)

“little bit more to the left.” harry would say, and joe would comply. then, it would be followed by an immediate “half a millimeter to the right.”

“half a millimeter—” joe repeated, immediately standing straight, hands on his hips as he stared at harry.

“uh oh,” harry grinned, turning to look at dalton who was rested on his hip. “think your dad has had enough of us today.”

“dalton didn’t suggest a half millimeter shift, don’t put this on my son.” joe said with a pointed finger.

“you just don’t understand english architecture.” harry waved him off. “dalton and i are on this specific wavelength. we can both see how your weak structure is leaning towards the right. did you think by recreating the leaning tower of pisa you’d connect with our european roots?”

“pizza?” dalton’s eyebrows furrowed, confused at the mention of the food.

“see!” harry tutted, pretending dalton was agreeing with him rather than being a hungry little shit. “we live on the same wavelength.”

“oh, do you?” joe challenged with a tilted eyebrow. “dalton, does this look tilted to you?”

dalton blanked. “tited?”

harry swallowed back a laugh. “is it lopsided, love?”

dalton carefully analyzed the fort being shaking his head. “no.”

joe grinned and took dalton out of harry’s grasp, spinning him around. “my son.” he pressed a slobbery kiss to his cheek. “always has my back.”

joe made harry decorate the inside of the fort, since his “english interior designing genes are naturally more sophisticated.”

he really only threw in a handful of blankets and a swarm of pillows.

dalton crawled in followed by harry. joe went to go get his laptop so they could watch a movie, but by the time he found his device, the two of them were fast asleep.

“we’ve gotta get these two checked.” he muttered to himself, joining them in the fort.

you tried to walk back inside your home quietly, you really did.

you stumbled over too many things and giggled far too loudly at yourself one too many times not to grab anyone’s attention. you were just glad it was joe and not dalton, or worse, your brother.

“looks like you had fun.” joe rubbed his eye sleepily, trudging over towards you to place a stabilizing hand on the small of your back.

“i had a fun.” you nodded, words slightly slurred.

“yeah? just the one?” he said, bemused.

“mhm.” you nodded, leaning in too close. “y’so pretty.” you squinted, as if hyperanalyzing his face.

you miraculously missed the blush creeping up on his face.

“couldn’t stop talking about you today.” you sighed, resting your body weight on him as you yanked off your heels.

“is that so?”

you hiccuped and your eyes went wide. your cheeks blew up instantly, physically holding back an explosion of laughter.

“let’s get you to bed before you wake harry and dalton up.” he picked you up bridal style and carried you to your shared room.

“‘sleep?”

“balls deep.” he nodded.

you giggled, nuzzling your face in his neck. “smell good.”

“can’t say you do too.”

“hey!”

“kidding!”

he brought you to the bathroom and sat you on the sink counter.

he brushed your teeth and did your skincare routine for you, because he knew you’d be livid if you went to bed with bar particles stuck to your face, or woke up with the lingering taste of alcohol on your tongue.

he tugged your sleep shirt over your shoulders and went to grab your pants.

“‘s too hot.” you shook your head, stopping him from pulling the pants over your legs.

“baby, your legs always get cold at night.”

“too hot.” you repeated.

“fine.” he sighed. “but don’t stick your legs between mine when you get cold.”

“hot.”

“bossy even when you’re drunk.” he murmured under his breath.

“hm?”

he shook his head. “love you.”

you grinned, eyes droopy. you held your hands out, signaling for him to carry you to bed, which he gladly did.

he set you on the bed, and the coldness of the mattress cover shot right through you.

you were too stubborn to admit he was right, even when you’re drunk, so you persevered until you fell asleep.

sometime in the middle of the night, you stuck your ice cold feet to joe’s calves.

he grumbled sleepily, pulling you in closer so that your head rested on his chest, and your legs slotted in between his.

[hearts4steve]

could you pleeease write a part two of joe and the styles reader after the fight when she’s pregnant and he comes back to make things up to her? thank you so much!

જ⁀➴ foot rubs and apologies

joe keery x styles!reader

a part of my styles!reader au!

part 1

thank u for requesting!! hope u enjoy :)

joe got back home in record time.

the thought of stopping to get you flowers briefly crossed his mind, but opted for ordering some later. he needed to get to you.

he found the door to your bedroom unlocked, even though he heard the click of the lock before he left. had you gone to look for him or did you unlock it waiting for him to come back?

none of that mattered. not when you were curled up in fetal position on the bed, too still for joe’s liking.

he crawled on the bed and hovered over you, brushing your hair out of your face. “baby,”

a tear glided down your cheek and his thumb wiped it away. he pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the side of your nose, and finally to your jaw. “i’m so sorry.” he muttered against your skin, still littering kisses all over your face.

“i messed up.” he acknowledged. “i wasn’t thinking. i was stupid to think that being in the same house would be enough. you deserve all of me, i won’t even look at the studio anymore, i promise.”

your lips pulled themselves into a frown and he immediately pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “turn that frown upside down, baby, c’mon.”

you brought your palm to your face and rubbed your eye. “thought you left me. for good.”

his face contorted, heartbroken. “i would never. you’re the love of my life, i physically can’t leave you. my heart can’t handle it. it can’t handle leaving you and our dalty.” his palm rested on your stomach. “can’t leave my family now, can i?”

that managed to pull a soft smile from you. “suppose not.”

he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “how can i make it up to you? wanna make it right.”

“you can start by rubbing my feet.” you mumbled. “and put your back into it.”

“yes ma’am.” he nodded solemnly, already lowering himself to reach your feet.

[hearts4steve]

more of styles!reader introducing joe to british things?

omg i really tried my best!! i’m not english but i lived in london for a couple of years so i tried to pull from memory. hope u enjoy :)))

જ⁀➴ all things english

joe keery x styles!reader

a part of my styles!reader au!

“percy pig?” joe stood in a marks and spencer’s aisle, staring at the pack of gummies.

“you’ve never tried them?” you asked, incredulous.

“no?”

“your life is about to be changed.” you said surely, grabbing a pack and putting it in your shopping basket.

you didn’t even wait until you got home; the second you stepped out of the store, the pack was opened.

you held a piece to his mouth, which he gratefully took.

joe’s eye widened as he took the first bite. “oh, this is delicious.”

“can’t believe you went all this time without it!” you scoffed. “you’ve got an english girlfriend and you’ve never tried a thing of percy pigs before. unbelievable.”

joe shrugged, reaching in to grab a handful.

the first time you saw joe trying to microwave water you shoved him out of the way.

“you do not get to do that in my kitchen, d’you understand?” you muttered angrily, pointing a finger at him as you stood in his kitchen.

joe was definitely shaken up. you two had only been dating for a couple of months, and while he knew you had a fiery personality, he definitely hadn’t expected you to react this passionately over a microwaved mug of water.

“absolutely unacceptable.” you mumbled to yourself, taking the mug out. “knob.”

“what’s wrong with it?”

“microwaving water?”

“no—the doorknob.”

“what?” you turned your body away from the stove to face him.

an amused smile painted his face once you said his favorite word. he’s always been a sucker for your accent.

“dunno. you said something about a knob?”

he saw the realization dawn on you.

you waved him off. “another lesson for another day. today, i teach you how to make a proper cuppa.”

the third time he visited you in london it slowly dawned on you that you never took him out to eat fish n chips and you’re positive it wasn’t an experience he tried on his own.

“like fish and chips? like lays?”

“no, love, chips as in fries.” you shook your head, walking to your destination.

“how much longer?” he huffed. “we’ve been walking for a long time.”

“joe, we’ve only been walking for 10 minutes.” you sighed.

“that’s like 7 minutes too much!”

“you’ve got to get used to it joe. the tube isn’t much better—bakerloo lost its aircon for good, i think.”

“bakerloo.” he muttered, blinking.

“the brown line, love.” you jumpstarted his memory.

“oh, yes! with the dingy cabin?”

“yes.” you nodded. “you’re learning so fast.”

he gave you a proud smile that made your heart flutter.

when the platter of fish n chips arrived before him, he was wary.

“i know it doesn’t look appetizing, but try it. you’ll love it.” you reassured, already diving in.

he reluctantly took a bite and his eye went wide, nodding passionately. “brilliant.” he managed to mumble with a mouth full of food.

joe keery, american actor and singer just referred to fish n chips as brilliant. wikipedia just might have to change his nationality.