#and to my followers who put up with all my ~whims and fancies~ (i was going to write crazy bullshit but that fit better with my vibes also

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

[artaxlivs]

Let Me Be Your Man (I want to hold your hand)

CW: none * Rating: Mature (frottage) * Pairing: Steve/Eddie * Prompt: Mixtape

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!” Steve yells when the pounding on his door gains momentum to add to its volume. Grumbling, he peeks out the side window and sees one of the kid’s bikes thrown down in his lawn. Little assholes. 

When he yanks the door open, Mike Wheeler is just raising his fist to pound it against the door again. “I need your help.” His face is red and sweaty with exertion as he shoves past Steve into the house. 

Immediately, Steve reaches into the umbrella stand and pulls out the only thing in it - his nail bat. “What’s happening?” He asks, rounding toward Mike, “Why didn’t you radio or call? What is it? Vecna? Jocks? Where’s everyone else?”

Mike skids to a halt and stares at Steve incredulously. “What? No. Put your bat away, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes. “I need your help.”

Relaxing just a small amount, Steve lets the top of the bat rest on the entryway floor. He probably looks as confused as he feels. “What? Why are you saying it like that? What kind of help?”

Mike huffs, throws his hands up and spins on his heel, stalking into the kitchen. Before Steve follows, he counts to ten, puts his bat away and curses the day he started dating Nancy Wheeler. Always the goddamn babysitter.

At the breakfast counter, Mike is deflating, shoulders drooping in what looks like defeat, chin braced in one hand, elbow pressed against the cool tile. With the other hand he’s tracing the lines of grout between the tiles.

On a whim, Steve detours to the fridge, loading up his arms with the makings for sandwiches. Back at the counter, he pulls out four slices of Wonderbread. “So - what brings you to my door?” He shakes the mayo and Mike nods so he starts to slather it on two of the pieces. Mike nods again to the mustard so Steve slathers that on the other two. Giving Mike the time to gather his thoughts.

“Um, well…I, uh, I like someone.” Mike sighs, looking down at the tile where he’s still tracing the lines. 

Someone not a girl. Someone. Will. It’s gotta be Will. Steve has seen the way that they both look at each other when the other isn’t looking. He and Robin have talked about it, about which one to approach first to let them into their elite Hawkins Gay Club which currently has two members. Not one and a half, Robin. Being bisexual still means he’s a whole gay. Dang it.

“Cheese?” Steve asks, peeling his own out of the Kraft plastic wrap. When Mike nods, Steve pulls out a second one for him. “Turkey or ham?” He pops open both and proceeds to put both on his own sandwich.

“Both, please.” Mike says and then jumps down, well, steps down because his gangly legs are much longer now. He goes over and grabs the salt and pepper from the back of the stove lip and sprinkles some of each on his, raises an eyebrow and when Steve nods, he sprinkles them on Steve’s as well.

Fancy.

“You want lettuce and tomato?” Steve says, slicing his own. Mike does not, he does go into the pantry and grab a bag of chips though because the kids are way too comfortable in Steve’s house apparently. 

“I need your help making a mixtape.” Mike says as sits back down.

Steve frowns. “Why are you here for a mixtape and not at Eddie’s? He’s the music guy.” And really - that’s a no brainer.

Groaning, Mike flops his head down his folded arms on the counter, narrowly missing the bag of chips. “Eddie cannot be trusted to make mixtapes. I was there for four hours, Steve. FOUR HOURS. And all I got was a lesson on ‘real metal versus sell out metal.’” He groans again. “He was so excited to help me but then we just recorded an hour of Black Sabbath songs. W- this person doesn’t even like metal!”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Steve gives Mike an encouraging smile as he cuts their sandwiches in half diagonally. Who cuts sandwiches across the middle? Vecna probably. Monster. “Mixtapes aren’t just about your favorite songs or even their favorite songs. It’s songs that you want to share with them and songs that remind you of them. And, of course, songs that tell them how you feel about them.” He plates both sandwiches and slides Mike’s across the bar. “It helps to know who the person is because mixtapes should be personalized but as long as you know their music, I can probably help you.”

Chewing the first bite slowly, Mike nods like he’s agreeing or gearing up to talk. Steve grabs them each a soda out of the fridge, sliding Mike’s over and taking the bag of chips. “My sister really loved the one you made for her. Well,” He reaches into the chip bag and pulls out a handful before pushing the bag toward Steve, “she still does actually. She plays it sometimes.”

Steve stops with his hand half inside the bag, “She does?”

“Yeaaaah.” Mike drags it out, putting a chip in his mouth but then talking around it. “She said it was the tape that made her realize she needed to break up with you.” Steve makes a little grunt of outrage but Mike pushes through, waving his hand to stop Steve from interrupting. “No, no, she loves that tape. Seriously. She said that listening to it made her realize that you’re the kind of guy who loves forever. But that you loved this girl she made up, she was pretending to be, even though she knew she’d never be that girl again…not after…you know.” He shrugs his bony shoulders and looks down at the counter again.

Without thinking about it, Steve’s eyes flick up to look out of the kitchen window where he can see the corner of the pool. He nods, saying dejectedly, “Yeah, I get that.” 

“And sometimes, when Jonathan is being Jonathan, she listens to it to remind her that you saw her as strong and brave - that’s what she said, strong and brave - before she even saw herself that way.” Mike opens his sandwich and puts down a layer of chips on top of the meat, squishing the top slice of bread back down before taking a bite. These kids are such weirdos. With his mouth full, he continues, “She said it reminds her that she doesn’t need Jonathon. Or any man. That she won’t settle for a life she doesn’t want. Not even for a guy like you.”

“Huh.” Steve replies, taking another bite of his own sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “A guy like me?” 

Rolling his eyes, Mike makes a sound like he’s tasted something bad and says, “Yeah, don’t get a big head. You still suck.”

Steve snorts. The audacity of this kid is truly admirable. He’s still not sure that makes him feel better but Nancy deserves to get what she wants so he can be happy for her. Even if his tape is part of what drove her away. He shakes it off, though, “Okay, so what type of music does this person like?”

They spend the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening going through the tapes and albums Steve has and making a list of the ones that Mike has that he thinks might work. Then they pair them down to make an album that flows, “like a story” Steve tells him. The playlist has a song by Bowie because really every playlist should. One from The Smiths because Steve knows Will loves them even though he doesn’t mention that part to Mike. Mike picks the one metal song that Eddie suggested that he thought made sense, they all sound alike to Steve so he doesn’t pay attention to which one it is. The others are sprinkles of songs both boys have shared memories about.

“It’s really the last song that matters,” he tells Mike. “You’ve laid the groundwork for blending your stories together and that last song is the one you have to be brave with. The words matter. That’s the song where you say what you wanna say. Even if it’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done.”

Mike nods slowly, like he’s really focusing on the meaning behind Steve’s words.

The last song, after the Mike and Will songs, after it’s clear that this is a story of the two of them together , is “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” by the Beatles. It’s the only song like it on the whole tape so it stands out clearly. It’s a love song without being slow and romantic. It’s honest. And it says, “let me be your man.” So there are no wrong pronouns. Again, Steve doesn’t mention it. 

After running by the Wheeler’s to pick up a few of Mike’s tapes, they pull by the trailer park and Mike runs in to borrow the one that Eddie suggested. At the trailer door, Eddie looks over at Steve waiting in his car and gives him a head nod. Smiling fondly, Steve wonders if those two know how dorky they look in their matching Hellfire shirts and cut off jeans, if Eddie is aware that Mike is trying very hard to be as cool as he thinks Eddie is. Probably not. Eddie is pretty oblivious. 

Case in point, Steve’s been hitting on him for weeks with not a single sign that Eddie is aware of it at all.

Maybe Steve should make him a mixtape. He gives a little finger wave that Eddie returns, looking thoughtful as Mike lopes back to the car with his goofily long arms and legs flailing and throws himself into the passenger seat. Steve backs out and drives away, watching Eddie get smaller and smaller in the rearview.

Steve picks them up burgers on the way back to his house and then they lay on his floor next to his big fancy stereo, recording the songs in order, from tape to tape. When they get to the Beatles song, Steve makes an excuse about cleaning up the kitchen and leaves Mike with the tape insert and a pen. 

When he comes back, Mike’s folding a piece of notebook paper and tucking it inside the case as well. He must have had a lot to say. His eyes are a little red rimmed but Steve pretends not to notice of course.

In the Wheeler driveway, after he helps Mike dislodge his bike from where they half tucked it into the Bimmer trunk and just let the lid sit on it because it doesn’t actually fit all the way, Steve leans against the car with his arms and ankles crossed, trying to look as relaxed as he can. He wants to say something, let Mike know he’s a safe person to talk to. That they’re alike. He’s not sure how to without scaring him, though.

“Uh…thanks for this, man.” Mike snorts a laugh and gives that snotty side smile of his, “Maybe Dustin’s right about you.”

Steve grins, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods solemnly, “You don’t totally suck.” But then he grins back all cocksure like the almost sixteen year old that he is.

Scoffing, Steve kicks out and hits one of Mike’s bike tires with his shoe, “Thanks, asshole.” Pushing off the car, he starts to turn away but then, “Hey, if it’s who I think it is, you can talk to me - I…I get it. Understand?” He makes sure he catches Mike’s eye so the kid can’t look down and away like he usually does. Steve sees the flash of fear but it’s quickly replaced with hope, maybe even trust.

Mike just nods and Steve gets out of there before he embarrasses the poor kid again. On his drive home, he rolls the windows down, turns his car radio up too loud and sings along, uncaring that he’s probably out of tune. 

Steve’s been home for maybe an hour when someone knocks on his door again. There’s less noise this time but it’s still just solid pounding without giving him the chance to get to the door. Everyone he knows is an asshole apparently.

“Alright, alright, keep it in your–” He yanks open the door and finds Eddie standing there still wearing his ripped cutoffs and his Hellfire shirt. Well, the version two that he designed for the club when he handed it down after graduation. “-pants.”

Eddie smiles, sly and flirty, “You sure?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “What are you gonna do when I call your bluff someday?” Because although Steve has been honestly flirting with Eddie, Eddie’s just been over the top hitting on Steve with innuendos and double entendres that don’t mean anything serious. Well, Steve can’t tell if they mean anything serious at least.

Which is part of why Steve hasn’t at least tried to make a move.

“We’ll see when that day comes I guess.” Eddie leans in and taps on Steve’s chest with the tip of his pointer finger. “I made you something Big Boy.”

There’s a circle of burning fire in the spot where Eddie’s finger was. His touches always seem to leave flames in their wake. Steve wonders if Eddie feels them, too “Is it dinner? Because I already ate with Baby Wheeler.”

“Nope.” Eddie drags out the “p” making a popping sound. “Baby Wheeler mentioned you were helping him with his mixtape - said you were some kind of expert.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Steve nods, admitting, “I don’t know about expert. Sorry, though, didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

“No, no, it’s cool.” Eddie leans his shoulder against the door jamb which is weird because he’s usually pushed past Steve to make himself at home by this point. Or Steve has invited him in. But they’re just standing here in the open doorway. “Besides - Wheeler informed me that I suck at mixtapes. Something about telling a story and not shoving metal down people’s throats.”

Steve crosses his arms defensively, “Don’t take it personally. You’re great at dragon stories. Gotta leave something for the rest of us to be good at.” He’s looking down so he misses the expression that accompanies the scoff Eddie gives but it sounds exasperated.

“Well.” Eddie says, bringing Steve’s eyes back up to him as he pulls a cassette tape out of his vest pocket. “Anyway, here.”

It shouldn’t make him feel the way it does. But it does. Steve’s heart flutters and his stomach swoops and the finger that brushes Eddie’s as he takes the tape feels like it’s charged with lightning. He’s still not sure, though, it could be that kind or it could just be Eddie trying to prove that metal is the best.

Before he can stop himself, he asks, “You made me a mixtape?” And the hopefulness in his voice is as clear as day. But then it’s met with a look in Eddie’s eyes - fear, denial, like he wants to take it back, so Steve pivots, teasing, “Is it an hour of metal? Did you do a voice over?”

Rolling his eyes and stuffing his hands into his vest pockets, Eddie hisses, “No. Jerk.”

After a moment of indecision, Steve asks hesitantly, “Do you..do you wanna listen to it together?”

There’s fear in Eddie’s eyes again and he takes a wary step back, “Uh - no. No, that wouldn’t be a great idea.” He swings his arms, snapping and bringing the flat of one hand against the curled first of the other before pointing finger guns at Steve. It’s so horribly awkward that Steve is filled with hope again. “Uh, yeah, it’s, um, it’s just for you, man.” He’s clearly nervous and waves of anxious energy are almost rolling off of him as he spins and walks away, throwing a confident, “See ya Harrington!” over his shoulder but Steve’s not fooled at all. 

“Oh you will, Munson.” Steve calls after him, slow smile growing when Eddie’s shoulder’s visibly hunch before he leaps into his van and pulls away, tires practically squealing with the force of him gunning it. 

Huh. Interesting.

Closing the door, Steve goes over to the phone on the entryway table where he leaves his keys and Family Video vest every night. He dials and after two rings, Robin picks up, “Thank you for calling Family-oh damn it, I mean, hello?”

“You’re such a mess.” Steve snorts.

“Fuck you Harrington, you’re such a mess!” She whisper shouts, because if her dad hears her cussing, she'll be grounded until she leaves for college.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.” Steve assures her. “But listen - Mike came over earlier–”

“Mike?!” She actually shouts this time. “Is there a Code Red? What happened? Why didn’t you call me?” There’s the distinct sound of her rolling off of her bed and scrambling for shoes or clothes.

“Calm down, you ninny.” He sighs. “We are scarily alike.”

“Duh.” Then she makes an oof sound as she flops back onto her bed.

“I thought the same thing because when does Mike ever willingly talk to me?” 

“Like, never. Unless it’s to make fun of you – ohhh wait, did he come to talk about Will?” She squees. “Did the baby gay come to get advice from his babysitter?”

Steve laughs, switching the phone to his other ear and sitting down on the carpeted stairs. He should have made this call from his bedroom where he could have laid on his bed, too late now. “Sort of? He asked for my help making a mixtape for ‘someone’ but didn’t tell me who and I didn’t out him by asking but when I dropped him off at home, I hinted that I knew and he could talk to me.”

“Ohhhh Steve, that’s so adorable. If I remotely liked any of your children, I’d be touched.” She straight out lies because they all know she adores Max like a little partner in crime. “Why you though? Why not Eddie?”

“That’s what I said!” He laughs and then dives into telling her the whole story. Eddie’s metal sell out lesson, the hours of pouring over music, Nancy’s love of his mixtape that he made for her back in high school. She comments and laughs at all the right places because they are of one mind, as always. Then though, then, he drops the bomb.

“So, the reason I’m calling is because Eddie showed up at my door. With a mixtape. For me. And he declined my offer to listen to it together.” Steve twists the cord around his finger, waiting until the skin turns red before unwinding it.

“Oh my god! What’s on it?” She shouts, “And why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I don’t know what’s on it. I haven’t listened to it yet.”

“Why not, you dingus?!” Robin screeches then she adds in a subdued tone, “Do you think…?” 

In an equally subdued tone he replies, “I don’t know. I think that’s why I called you first. I’m a little scared to get my hopes up.”

She makes a little noise of agreement. She’s been there.

“And I just…I’m not his type at all. And I know that. But he’s so…” Steve sighs and lays back on the stairs awkwardly, it’s not comfortable at all but it’s keeping him focused. “He’s loud and brash and annoying and I like that because I’m not. But he’s also sweet and squishy and brave and so fucking funny. Argh.”

“And you already got your hopes up when he dropped it off and you don’t want to be disappointed?” Robin asks gently because she really does know him so well.

“Yeah,” he tells her in a hushed voice. “His face when he handed it over, Rob. He was nervous. And then he practically ran away.”

“Well, idiot, you won’t know until you listen.” She says matter-of-factly and he can almost hear her brushing off her hands and standing up. “Buck up. You want me to come over and listen to it with you?”

“Nah. I want to hear it the first time on my own.” That way he can cry before he has to face her if that’s where this is going. “I’ll call you if I need you, though, k?”

“You know I’m always here for you.”

He does.

After they hang up, Steve doesn’t waste anymore time. He doesn’t want to give himself any time to think so he heads into the living room and pops it into the tape deck he and Mike had just recorded ‘someone’s’ tape on. Laying back on the floor he lets the first song play. 

He doesn’t recognize the first chords but the recording itself is kinda fuzzy, like it’s a live version of something. It’s an acoustic guitar, slow but building. When the voice comes in, Steve sits up and turns toward the speaker. It’s Eddie.

I was always trapped. Drowning in this small town, Dragged down by small minds To the bottom of the lake. Spent most of my days  on the run from myself. Running from the me I wasn’t ready to be. Trapped in this small town  with these small minds. That is, until you. Until there was you. You stood your ground. Stood up for mine, too. And I never ran as fast  as I did to you.

There’s a guitar break. It’s beautiful, simple, a slow melody that builds with Eddie’s voice almost trembling when it comes back in.

You’re the boy The boy who stops the world. Stops it from spinning Out of my reach. I want to run to you. But we’re stuck in this town With these small minds, That drag us down. I just wanna be free Free to love you. I only wanna run If you’ll catch me.  In this small town In this small town

The song fades out and there’s the sound of Eddie’s breathing, it catches like he’s going to say something but then exhales and the recording clicks off. Steve speeds through the tape and flips it over and does the same to the other side. The rest of it is empty. He plays the song again. Listening with his eyes closed this time.

Then he jumps up, ejects the tape, grabs his keys and fumbles with the lock on the way out. He doesn’t let himself think. Just plays the song over and over for the fifteen minute drive to the trailer park. All the lights in the trailer are on and the music in Eddie’s room is blaring loud enough that Steve can hear it in his car with his own music still on.

He still doesn’t stop to think, just rushes out of the car and up the steps to pound on the door and when Eddie opens it with wide eyes and a healthy dose of fear on his face, Steve thinks for a second that he should say something, confirm that it’s a song written for him - about them both - but he can’t. Or he’ll chicken out. 

So, instead, he just steps into the trailer, forcing Eddie to take a step back, pushes the door shut behind him and whispers, “Too many small minds out there.” And kisses Eddie. 

It’s a good kiss too. Steve cradles Eddie’s head and tilts him just enough that he can get the perfect angle to …what’s the word in all those trashy books? Ravish. Steve ravishes Eddie’s mouth. It’s not sweet, it’s desperate and filled with need and when he finally lets go, Eddie’ lips are swollen and kiss bitten.

“I hope that song was telling me you like me or this is going to be a very awkward conversation.” Steve says when Eddie’s eyes flutter open.

“I’d have made you a whole mixtape but Wheeler told me this afternoon that the final song is the one that really matters.” Eddie grins then, wide and impish, swooping in to catch Steve’s mouth with his own. When he comes up for air, he whispers, “Besides, where was I gonna get an hour of ABBA songs?”

Growling, Steve walks Eddie backwards until the backs of his knees hit the couch and he sits. “I’m more of a Springsteen fan, actually.” He says as he climbs into Eddie’s lap and swoops down for a kiss.

It’s frenzied and graceless, like the two desperate kids they still are. Neither of them old enough to buy a six pack of beer and both overflowing with the sexual tension they’ve built up between them. Steve can’t seem to stop kissing Eddie long enough to do anything more than grind himself down against Eddie’s lap. 

Luckily, Steve’s been in his old basketball shorts all day and Eddie changed into sweats sometime after he’d gotten home so there’s nothing but a few layers of cotton between their rock hard boners. 

Jesus, it feels like the first time Steve dry humped with some girl back in freshman year. But like, a thousand times better. Not just because they both have dicks but because it’s Eddie .

He rolls his hips, brushing their aforementioned dicks together and swallows Eddie’s groan. Eddie’s hands are on Steve’s hips, guiding him as he rolls them, flexing his hands around the softness there. When Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth, Eddie’s hands slip around and squeeze his ass, cupping it and helping him press their laps together. One of them whines as their dicks slot together just right and they both thrust against each other. 

“Stevie, fuck. Yes,” Eddie swears, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Then his tongue is back in Steve’s mouth, sliding along Steve’s, sucking on his bottom lip. He licks and nips and bites his way down Steve’s throat, probably leaving bruises and Steve should care about that but he doesn’t.

“Eddie, Eddie - I need,” It’s too fast, Steve knows he can last so much longer than this but he can’t seem to slow down. “Oh, god.”

“What, Stevie?” Eddie manages between grunts as they rut against each other desperately, “What do you need?”

Oh god, he’s almost there, Steve feels the warmth pooling in his belly, the muscles in his legs straining, the droplets of precome sticking to his underwear and Eddie’s hard cock pushing against the length of his own as he cries, “You, fuck, just you.” And then he comes, arching and fucking against Eddie. One hand buried in the hair at Eddie’s nape and the other digging his fingernails into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie pulls Steve tight to his chest, one hand around his back, holding Steve close while he comes. Eddie’s still thrusting against Steve, rolling and pressing with his hips until he, too, arches and comes with a hoarse shout.

When Eddie relaxes back against the couch, Steve collapses in his lap, head resting on Eddie's shoulder, breath hot against his collarbone. Both fucked out and exhausted.

Minutes later, once the aftershocks have subsided for both of them and Steve’s sweaty forehead is pressed into the side of Eddie’s sweaty neck, Steve admits, “Fine, I like ABBA but who doesn’t? Those songs are catchy.”

Eddie snorts a laugh out. Then, it's a little gross, but they both start laughing and have to peel their damp crotches away from each other. Totally worth it, though, when Eddie brings Steve's hand up to his mouth, kissing the palm before he threads their fingers together so he can hold Steve's hand.

Thanks to @thefreakandthehair for hosting this challenge! It was super fun and I'm so glad I actually made it in under the deadline. Skin of my teeth!

Here's the Ao3 link if you want to drop me some love there - comments make my brain buzz and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the perfect Mike/Will or Steve/Eddie mixtape playlist!

[porcelainseashore]

Teenage Headache Dreams (3)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: More fluff, might be cringe, who knows? Leon’s facade is starting to slip up, but I think he rolled a natural 20 at the end. There’s also a tinge of childhood trauma and hurt/comfort. I hope I did it justice somehow and that you like it.

AO3 Link

Chapter 3: Before You Slip Away

Just as summer and fall came and went, your school days merged seamlessly into one another, passing by like a blur. You kept your part of the deal and spent what free time you had with Leon. Likewise, he fulfilled his end of the bargain by attending your informal study sessions, which pulled both of your Grade Point Averages up, much to your relief.

In the meantime, Leon had competed in the track and field competition against other high schools in the surrounding Midwest region, coming out top overall in the short sprint category. You had never cheered so hard from the sidelines in your life. To you, it was a crime that cheerleaders mostly focused on football and basketball games, ignoring the other sporting events. 

Flashing his winning smile with a shiny medal raised in his hand, the cameras adored him. Throngs of his teammates came over to celebrate with him and his coach patted him on the back, proudly exclaiming, “That’s my boy!” 

Despite all of the commotion, Leon kept an eye out on the spectator stand, scanning it from one end to the other. As soon as his eyes met yours, he leaped off the podium and sprung towards the bleachers, as if another race had started. You scurried towards him, weaving in and out of the crowd. Once both of you were in closer contact, he reached out and pulled you in, lifting you off the ground as you felt the air knock out of your lungs.

“Oof, Leon, put me down!” You laughed hoarsely, as he complied and your feet landed softly on the ground again. He was perspiring profusely and his damp hair clung to the sides of his forehead in a mess. Some of his sweat had rubbed off onto your clothes, but you didn’t care. “You were amazing!”

“As always,” came the shameless reply. His hands traveled to your shoulders, gripping them keenly, as he confessed in exhilaration, “I’m really happy you made it out here!”

“You think I’d miss this for anything else?” You cried out amongst the usual racket that followed the end of a sports meet. Sure, it was a good few hours’ drive from your hometown, but it was more than worth it.

He met your rhetorical question with a pearly white smile, his eyes sparkling as he hugged you again. 

“Wanna get some tacos? My treat,” you offered. You knew about Leon’s whims and fancies when it came to food. Tacos were his latest obsession, so you dangled it like a carrot before him.

He was tempted, but also embarrassed that you were the one taking him to dinner. Was that a date? Shouldn’t he have made the first move? He shrugged off those thoughts, convincing himself that you didn’t mean anything by it.

“Hellooooo…? Earth to Leon?” you waved your hand in front of his face, seeing as he was lost in daydream land again.

“Uh-” He blinked, shaking his head and composing himself. “Nah, I can’t make you pay for that,” he argued.

You ignored what he said as you started jogging towards your car, turning back briefly to him, yelling, “Last one to get in is a loser!”

“Hey, that’s cheating!”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Although you didn’t think it was necessary for Leon, or anyone else for that matter, to catch your dance showcase, he never gave up pestering you about it. Your parents weren’t entirely fond of you pursuing a further education in the arts, preferring that you would pick up something “useful” instead. So you learnt to avoid the topic and keep these interests to yourself, even though you knew both sides were playing a cat and mouse game, which would end up in disappointment and begrudging acceptance anyway. You viewed Leon’s presence as an added pressure to perform well in front of a person you knew in the audience, but he only saw it as being supportive towards his friend. In the end, you relented, knowing there was no way of changing this stubborn boy’s mind.

The days leading up to the showcase had you throwing yourself onto your bed in a heap of exhaustion and fatigue every night. You hardly had any time to spare, except eat, sleep, dance and repeat. Occasionally, you had to skip school with permission, to attend the rehearsals. Thankfully, Leon being the good friend he was, dropped off whatever class notes and homework assignments there were to your place. He also had the tendency to add motivational “You can do it!” sort of quotes in marker pen on sticky notes, which he pasted within the pages. He claimed that doing so helped him get through more difficult times. You found them cheesy, but you couldn’t deny that they made you smile each time you opened a page and found one there, just like an easter egg.

On the day of the performance itself, your nerves were a wreck. You had done this countless times, but nothing could cure the intense stage fright you usually suffer from just before the show curtains are drawn. Your co-dancers were busying themselves in the dressing room, applying last minute touch-ups to their makeup and costumes, or stretching their limbs to keep warm. Meanwhile, you puked out nothing but air and water for the umpteenth time in the adjacent bathroom.

There was a gentle knock on the toilet stall. “Is everything alright?”

Quickly flushing the toilet and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you opened the door cautiously, as you peered out at a bespectacled lady in an all black outfit and walkie-talkie attached at her hip. It was one of the crew members. “Yeah, um, I’m done here.”

“Great,” she heaved a sigh of relief. “It’s five minutes to standby. We need to get you to the stage wings pronto.” You nodded and followed her immediately, as she darted out of the lavatory. 

On the way, she stopped abruptly, as if she remembered something. She pulled out a folded note and handed it over to you. “Oh, I almost forgot. Your… boyfriend? He was very insistent,” she shook her head and huffed wearily.

Boyfriend?

As you peeled it open, you were greeted by the same handwriting in marker pen you had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks: 

YOU GOT THIS :)

A wide smile spread across your face, as a wave of renewed energy coursed through your veins. How this silly boy could brighten up your day with random scribblings on loose bits of paper confounded you. Passing it back to the crew member for safekeeping, you strode onwards purposefully, mumbling to yourself the only words you knew at that moment, “I got this.”

Once the performance started, you eased in, forgetting the outside world as you crawled, flew and spiraled through the dark room like an uninhibited creature. Illuminated only by the intense beam of spotlight, you glided across the floor, synching your breath together with that of the other co-dancers.

Time always passed so strangely during your dance pieces. Just as soon as it began, it ended, and you panted heavily as the lights came back on to a roaring sound of applause. You and the rest of the dancers walked up hand-in-hand to the stage front for a deep bow. With the harsh light in your face, you couldn’t see anyone in the crowd, but then you heard the distinct sound of your name being called, followed by a shrill whistle. Leon. 

You exchanged looks with your co-dancers and laughed. “Someone’s got a fan,” one of them whispered. You continued clapping with the rest and gestured towards the sound and light technicians in gratitude, before heading backstage, hugging each other in relief and celebration.

After packing up and saying your last goodbyes to your fellow performers, you threw on a coat over your attire as you headed out to the foyer. Leon was waiting patiently against a pillar, watching the crowd disperse out of the theater. You observed that he seemed a little out of his element in this place, with the way he was fiddling with the program brochure and his clothes. The outfit he had picked out for the evening had caught you by surprise. You’d never seen him in something so formal before. His navy blue blazer and matching colored trousers fitted perfectly against his form. He wore a white collared shirt underneath, with the top unbuttoned, but the bottom tucked into his pants neatly, and donned a rather smart pair of chestnut brown leather shoes. He looked almost… dashing. You mentally lectured yourself to shut down that thought immediately.

“Hey,” you called out meekly as you approached.

He turned around, flipping his bangs out of his eyes as he spotted you. “Hi.” You detected a sense of shyness - or was it hesitance? - emanating from his greeting, which seemed odd considering how boisterous you both could be with each other.

“I, uh-” he scratched the back of his head, before revealing a long-stemmed rose and pressing it into your hands as quickly as possible, like it was searing hot coal. “-got you this.” 

He tilted his head downwards with his gaze glued to his shoes, as you inspected the flower in your hand. Before you had a chance to say anything, he spoke up again.

“My parents, t-they,” he stuttered. “I didn’t know-” he paused again and exhaled heavily. “Well, I wasn’t sure what was appropriate.” 

He searched your eyes for any sign of mockery but found none. You nodded at him to continue.

“So I, um, researched.” He coughed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “They said, it’s customary to bring red roses.”

The poor guy was so flustered, you were beginning to feel sorry for him. “It’s-” you began, but were immediately interrupted.

“If it’s too much, I can take it back, no problem!” He reached out for the flower, but you sidestepped and evaded his attempts to grab it, chuckling softly.

“Leon, it’s fine,” you reassured him. “I’d like to keep my gift, thank you very much.”

At this, he relaxed a little but shook his head in dismay, “God, I feel like an idiot.”

“Well, finally!” You jested. “About time you realized.”

Without waiting for his comeback, you embraced him, thanking him for all the support he had showered you with recently and of course for showing up. You didn’t know how much you needed it until he did.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” he grinned, realizing that you managed to receive his last note of encouragement before heading on stage. And he was back to normal Leon. “By the way, in case you didn’t already know, you were awesome up there.”

“Oh yes, very awesome.” A husky, feminine voice piped up from the side. She was definitely European, but you couldn’t quite place where her thick accent came from more specifically.

Something about the way that sentence was said unnerved you. You weren’t sure if it was because a stranger had been listening in to your conversation or that she had just gatecrashed it without asking.

It didn’t seem to sit well with Leon too, as he placed his arm in front of you protectively, while you both came face-to-face with a rather peculiar-looking older lady. Her platinum white hair was slicked back into a tidy bun and she was draped in a plain brown dress which reached all the way to her ankles. Her hands and arms were covered in long, black leather gloves and the weirdest thing of all was that she adorned pitch black sunglasses indoors.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” Her thin lips curled into what you thought might be a smile, as she gave him a flippant wave.

Glancing up at Leon, you could tell from his furrowed brows and tensed expression that he didn’t like this woman. Not one bit.

“Hm,” she scoffed and readjusted her sunglasses, obviously unimpressed at his defensiveness. Directing her attention to you, she fished out a white business card between her fingers from her chic clutch. “Here.” With a flick of the wrist, she passed it over to you swiftly. You caught Leon’s disapproving frown as you accepted the card. It felt weighty and luxurious in your bare hands.

“Maybe this might interest you at some point,” she added, and with that, she spun on her heel, giving the slightest of waves as she sauntered off.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Leon muttered. It didn’t take a genius to notice a fuming rage brewing within him.

“I don’t know…” you trailed off as you turned the card over from side-to-side, examining it. In white bold embossed letters, it read:

TANZTHEATER SILJE VÖLKER

━━━━━━━━━━━

When it was time to break for the Christmas holidays, you honestly felt a little lonely without Leon. He was celebrating a family reunion with his relatives in another town and wouldn’t be around until the new year. Nonetheless, both of you had exchanged presents in advance and failed miserably to follow the age-old tradition of waiting until Christmas Day to open them.

“No way,” you and Leon uttered simultaneously, right after tearing off the wrapping paper. It turned out that the two of you had thought of the same thing. There was a rock band you shared a mutual interest in and constantly listened to together. You had gotten him a limited edition CD signed by the band members, knowing it would pair well with the second-hand stereo he had picked up a couple of months ago at a thrift store. 

He, in turn, had gifted you a pair of tickets to see them live in Chicago in spring, seeing as you had always dreamed of catching all the bands you liked in the city one day. You enthusiastically chatted about your travel plans together, since you were obviously taking him with you. At the same time, he proudly displayed the CD on his bookshelf, commenting on how Blood Sugar Sex Magik was the best album ever released.

Christmas itself was rather uneventful. It was the same story of families huddling together around the dinner table and eating too much over a couple of days. Then there were the usual prying questions from relatives, which was mainly used to compare you with their offspring. How have you been doing at school? Which colleges are you applying to? Have you thought of your major? Are you dating someone?

Sometimes you were able to escape from the madness by excusing yourself for some fresh air. You took whatever chance you could to take long walks on your own around the neighborhood, breathing in deeply as the crisp evening wind chilled your nose and cheeks. The days had grown shorter, but you didn’t mind the cyclical nature of seasons at all. It made you appreciate light and warmth, as well as the cold and darkness even more. You enjoyed the stillness of the streets as you trudged along, admiring the decorative lights people had hung up in their homes, which contrasted with the velvet night sky.

You missed Leon. He always had a way of making things more bearable. You imagined his charming smile winning over your relatives, the inside jokes both of you would pull, and bunking off to hang out at your favorite small town haunts. Still, you couldn’t avoid the niggling feeling that there was something more to your interactions with him, even though the topic was being avoided like the plague. It had always been there from the start, masked under being all fun and games, especially with Leon’s antics and wisecracks when it came to anything vaguely romantic or sexual. However, it appeared as if he was beginning to lose his touch. Things that wouldn’t have bothered him before, now caused him to stumble over his words and turn away red-faced. You were a visual person. You caught him stealing lingering glances at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, only to divert his gaze the minute you turned towards him.

You were so adamant about having a friendship, you didn’t really plan for anything else to happen. Plan. That’s a funny word. As if you could plan such things. And now both of you were on the verge of breaking the rules again. The rule of not falling for a friend.

Maybe you just didn’t want to admit that your nosey classmates saw it coming all along. Or maybe you just weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. Which brought you to the million-dollar question: how did you actually feel about him?

Ignoring the tingling sensation in your stomach that crept up steadily to your chest, you kicked a stray pebble into the drain, deciding to leave your thoughts where they were for the moment and headed home.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Soon, the temperatures began to dip even further as the Midwest entered into the coldest period of the season. You were used to the continental effect of living inland, surrounded by mountain ranges, where the weather could be rather extreme. This meant sometimes braving through heavy snowfall and tundra-like winds to get to wherever you needed to go. You had taken up a new part-time job assistant teaching in a children’s ballet class, whilst Leon volunteered at a nearby dog shelter. You took turns picking each other up from work, but there was hardly any time for a break until mid-February, when the locals organized the annual winter market, to stave off the seasonal blues.

You had gone out to the market with Leon to drink warm punch and eat some hotdogs, while having a go at some of the stall games. He did unexpectedly well at the target shooting one, which garnered him a neat Swiss Army knife that he gave to you. “For safekeeping,” he quipped, bestowing you with another one of those bashful smiles you’d grown used to.

“Wanna get outta here?” he offered out of the blue.

“Sure,” you replied, even though you were mildly puzzled by his abrupt request. He took your hand and led you out of the market square.

It was a while before the flood lights came into view, as you slowly sidled up to the school’s football field.

“You dragged me all the way out here?” you guffawed.

“Uh huh.” He unlocked the gate and pushed it open with ease, holding it for you to go through.

“I can’t believe you still have the key!” Now you were jealous. You shook your head with your arms akimbo, laughing in disbelief at how the blonde boy in front of you managed to keep getting a free pass at things.

“I’m just that amazing,” he shrugged, as you both made your way towards the stand. It was thankfully rid of snow, courtesy of the local community who took care of it on a regular basis.

“More like, annoying,” you scoffed, plonking yourself down on one of the benches.

“Keep saying that if you wanna get locked in,” he shot back. God, you missed his banter.

Luckily, you still had a few tricks up your sleeve. “Won’t stop me from getting out.”

“I know.” He paused, taking a moment to sit down beside you. “That’s what I like about you.”

Your breath hitched as he mentioned that. Was that a confession in disguise? You tried to read his expression, but it was impossible to decipher.

“So why did you bring me here?” you inquired, as a way of breaking the awkward tension.

“I started to get what you meant back then, when you said it was peaceful. Sometimes I sit out here myself, just to think things through.” He gestured to the field. “Kinda nice, isn’t it? This wide, vacant space.”

Your eyes glittered as a smile tugged at your lips, glad that he understood what it meant to you.

“Also, I didn’t want to be a creep by bringing you into the woods.”

“Leon the serial killer. Has a ring to it,” you teased. He laughed in response, as his breath turned into misty puffs swirling in the air. “But yeah, this place holds a lot of memories,” you added.

“Of meeting you and getting stoned.” You recognized the look of mischief in his eyes as he finished your sentence. “Best day of my life.”

“Mine too,” you murmured, while something stirred within you to share your innermost thoughts with him. 

“You know, before that, there were times where I’d sit here after a game till late on my own. Even after the flood lights shut off, I’d stay on in the dark, feeling like nothing could get rid of this emptiness… not even the crowd earlier.” You weren’t sure why you felt compelled to tell Leon all of this or where you were going with it, but it was important to you. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, more than you know,” he remarked quietly under his breath, such that you had to strain your ears to hear it. 

His answer piqued your curiosity. “Do you ever feel like you don’t belong anywhere?”

“All the time,” he huffed.

You were taken aback by this. Leon never struck you as someone who’d feel the same way you did. You thought he fit in with the suburban lifestyle and he was well-liked by his peers. Was there a missing piece? Not knowing how to deal with this newfound information, you blurted out without thinking, “Well, whaddya know. A jock and a cheerleader just faking it till they make it.”

He didn’t respond. As your eyes briefly darted in his direction, you noticed the discomfort that dumb sentence had caused him.

You felt a pang of guilt in your chest, regretting that you had inadvertently touched upon a sensitive subject. “It was a bad joke, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head sadly. “No, it’s fine. It’s just a lot more than that.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” you reassured him. 

However, Leon seemed determined to continue. “I want to, with you.” You realized his hand was trembling as he ran it through his hair. “I’m guessing you’ve never been in foster care?”

“No?” There was a tone of apprehension in your voice, as you wondered where this conversation was headed, though you had a vague idea.

“Just wanted to be sure.” He smiled sardonically, before explaining further. “What it’s like is… moving from one family to another every few months, never really knowing where you’ll end up next,” he sighed. “And praying to god that they won’t be scumbags.”

Gradually, you started to make sense of what he was going on about, and everything fell into place as your jaw fell slightly ajar.

“Thing is, I’m lucky my current family took me in long-term.” At this, he paused for a minute, frowning at an invisible threat. “Many aren’t.” 

Then, it came as a cracked whisper. “Sometimes I’m scared… I’ll be taken away again.”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, as you placed your hand over his, squeezing it tightly. “I won’t let that happen.”

He turned to face you with a dry laugh. “What, you’re gonna fight the authorities for me?”

You saw the fear and pain in his eyes, but you wanted to let him know that you were completely serious. You would do anything to make sure he was safe. “To hell and back. I mean it, Leon.” You gripped his hand firmly again. “We’ll find a way.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, relaxing a bit.

“I’m sorry… I wouldn’t have said such stupid-” You started to apologize again, but he stopped you, curling his fingers under your chin and tilting it towards him.

“Shhh, it’s ok. You couldn’t have known,” he surmised. “I mean, people have their questions, but my parents are really good at protecting me, and shutting down small talk.”

You continued listening empathetically, as deep down you had a hunch that he had kept this to himself for a very long time, and he couldn’t bottle it up anymore. He just wanted someone, specifically you, to hear him out.

“I can’t deal with shit like explaining to people all the time, over and over again, why I don’t look like my parents, who my real parents are, how I fit in… just so they can pretend to be my pity party.” His mouth twisted in distaste at the memory.

“The funny thing is, I don’t even remember much about my real mom and dad. It’s like a blackout. Like that part of life just died.” Closing his eyes, he rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, as if trying to recall something in vain. “I heard they were assholes though. Or, I dunno, ‘very bad people’ as they said.”

What he had just articulated hit you like a ton of bricks, yet you wanted to be there for him, no matter what. “Leon… I will never know what you’ve been through. But one thing I’m certain of, is that they did not make you who you are.” 

He gave you a look of skepticism, but you pushed forward. “You’re a good person.”

“A really, fucking good person,” you emphasized, and you truly believed that with all your heart. “Remember that.”

“I’ll try,” he sighed. The doubt still remained. You weren’t expecting it to magically disappear, but at least this was a step in the right direction. “That means a lot to me.”

“Do you still feel alone?” you asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Since meeting you? Not a chance.” You narrowed your eyes at him as laughter spilled out into the night. “Do you?” he questioned back.

“No.” You bit your bottom lip and professed, “I’m really glad I met you.”

Stroking your hair gently, he began to inch closer towards you, leaning in till the tips of your noses touched as you held your breath. It felt like time had slowed down, and despite knowing what would come next, you’d never felt more unprepared.

As if on cue, the flood lights switched off and you were enveloped by the obsidian night. Damn, the timer.

You were used to it, but it was clear to you that Leon wasn’t faring so well. You felt him wince, his breathing getting shallower and more uneven, as he tried to cling on to you. A part of you suspected that his vulnerability had something to do with previous foster placements. 

You interlaced your fingers with his, linking hands as you comforted him. “I’m here. Don’t worry,” you asserted. “You’ve gotta let your eyes adjust to the darkness and you’ll be able to see again. It just takes time.”

He nodded as both of you waited in silence, with only the sound of the wind whistling and each other’s breaths to keep you company. He started to calm down, as you caressed the back of his hand with your thumb. Just as you had promised, he began to make out shapes in the darkness and slowly regained his sight again.

You gazed up in wonder, admiring the celestial winter sky that lay before you, as Leon followed suit. The moon and stars seemed to hang close to the ground, as if frozen in stasis. They glimmered to the point of being dazzling.

“Do you see that?” Leon pointed upwards, captivated by brilliant light that shone across the sky.

“Yeah, they’re really bright when it’s cold.”

“Hm, yeah they’re beautiful,” he muttered thoughtfully. “I should do this more often. Just stop and take a moment to appreciate things.” Once again, he turned towards you, his words laced with double meaning. “Before they slip away.”

You caught the subtle implication behind what he said, as he waited to see how you would react. Your heart was racing, but this time, you decided to shut off the rational side of your mind and follow your gut feeling instead. It was as though an unseen force was guiding you, as you closed the gap, delicately brushing your lips against his. 

Just as you were about to second-guess yourself, he responded by cradling your cheek in his hand and pressing his warm, soft lips on yours. His hot, shaky breath tickled your skin, as you entwined your arms around his neck and kissed back, taking in the sweet taste of his mouth even further, and causing him to hum in satisfaction. You could get addicted to this. You really could.

Apparently reading your mind, Leon murmured through your parted lips, “You’ve no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” As you locked lips again, consumed in yet another tender kiss, you didn’t want to think about what would come next. For tonight, everything was perfect.

[flower-yi]

100 FOLLOWERS EVENT !

hello hello everyone!!!! just a few days ago, i hit 100 followers!

first of all, i want to thank everyone who picked up my works and dedicated a portion of their time to reading it. it means a lot! writing is a journey i've decided to embark on as it has been an interest of mine for such a long time, and i'm glad that you're all here with me!! this milestone wouldn't have happened without the stellaronhvnters network, the oracleofstars network, and of course to the people who supported me on my journey. (you know who you are!!!)

in celebration for this milestone, i've decided to open my asks for requests. for those unfamiliar with how i run my blog, most of my writing comes from a moment of inspiration—which is, actually, a fancy way to say i write on a whim—so this event gives me a chance to bounce off someone's ideas and bring them to life!

this is also to bond with you guys over your favourite characters... giggles mischievously 😭😭

(more utc!)

naturally, as this is an event (and a time to put in requests!), rules must be put in order. here it is as follows:

i am a sfw blog, so anything nsfw is prohibited. suggestive content is allowed but limited.

romantic and platonic scenarios are both allowed! i will, however, prohibit any romantic scenarios with underage characters.

genres i will write for range from fluff to angst :D

it is entirely up to you how to decide phrasing your request. you may add concepts like, for example, 5:00AM, etc. (fics based on songs are allowed... :3)

as this is a multi-fandom blog, anyone from any fandom can go on and put in a request. i will list both the fandoms and possible characters* i will write here;

- honkai: star rail (veritas ratio, jing yuan, blade, topaz, acheron, argenti)

- genshin impact (alhaitham, kaveh, ningguang, thoma, kaeya, diluc)

- love&deepspace (basically all of the love interests—this includes caleb, by the way. looking at someone in particula

- twisted wonderland (trey clover, deuce spade, azul ashengrotto, jack howl)

- tentatively, jujutsu kaisen—more so from the reason i may deliver not so accurate characterisation of whom you'll request for. i am, however, up to the task of writing for the characters :3 (megumi fushiguro, satoru gojo, suguru geto, shoko ieiri, yuji itadori)

if you have any fandom in mind that you think i'll write for, feel free to ask if i do!

*characters listed here are examples.

this is more so a reminder than a rule, but please be polite and respectful when writing your request! remember, i am entitled to refuse any requests i deem unreasonable.

the event duration will be from BST+1 april 21, 2024 to april 27 2024. as this is one of the (official) times i've opened my requests, i want to take it slow as to not overwhelm myself!!

if you have any questions, don't be shy to send in an ask. once again, thank you to everyone for making this milestone possible! ♡

IMAGE FOUND ON pinterest

DIVIDERS BY @/saradika-graphics

[just-french-me-up]

hey hi i'm buzzing with the need for dreamling fic recs if you would be so kind as to point me in your favorite direction pls pls pls

Oh friend, you asked and I shall ✨ deliver ✨

DREAMLING FIC RECS 🌻✨

of my misery make thy use by @qqueenofhades (Explicit - WIP - 129k so far - In Universe, but with some tweaks, Rescue fic) Dream is Roderick Burgess' prisoner, in all his silent, sullen, naked glory, and has given up on the thought of anyone ever helping him out of there. Even Hob Gadling. Especially Hob Gadling. In fact, he's quite sure the man never wants to speak to him ever again, regardless of his current predicament. A bummer, really, because he also happens to be married to him. (Listen that fic has slain me EVERY WHICH WAY, it has EVERYTHING, it will take you PLACES (literally), it's rewarding as fuck, has OCs to die for, just... just read it, ignore the WIP status, what's there is absolutely chef's kiss)

the unknown and static strange by @qqueenofhades (yes, again, listen, if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more bla bla bla) (Mature - WIP - 69K so far (nice) - Dubious AU status, Memento mets Academia, Modern day with a twist) Professor Robert Gadling, under cut rocking, weird dreams having, and trauma suffering, discovers a strange piece of undocumented art that seems to follow him everywhere he goes. The Regis Somnorum won't leave him alone, and as he tries to follow that thread, a whole mysterious tapestry unfolds, putting everything he knows, or thought he knew, into question. (This fic is a fucking delight, it's just KEEPS feeding you "oh shit" moments and suspense and revelations and the pacing just keeps you on the edge of your SEAT. Again, IGNORE the WIP status I BEG OF YOU, read it, devour it)

This Rough Magic by @avelera (Mature - WIP - 36k so far - Rescue fic with a twist) Hob Gadling never fancied himself a mage or a warlock, but dabbled enough in the occult to pick up a few tricks over the years, all in the hope to communicate with his Stranger. A stranger, he later discovers, who is trapped under Roderick The Fucking Magus Burgess's manor. Now, he may not be the best magic wielder there is.... but Burgess doesn't know that, does he? (There are some VERY clever things in this fic, everyone is written to a T, I love a fic where my loathing of Burgess can burn from the brightest flame and at the same time have him not like a cartoon villain but a full human being! Can't wait to see where that goes!)

if you just let me (have you, love you) by Lost_Elf (Explicit - 25k - Human AU - Adult Film Actors AU (I see you tumblr, restricting words these days, I see you) Both very prominent in their own niches of the Internet, Dom-BDSM-oriented Dream and Vanilla-centered Hob cross paths and plan what could be (or so their managers hope) the collab of the century. And they might learn a thing or two along the way. (Listen, I read this on a whim, I wasn't too into Human AUs at the time, I was up for some smut that day, and this fic is a LOT more wholesome than the subject lets on and really gripped me! Lots of very nice details in there! And also, you know.... smut)

by the minute by @issylra (Explicit - 11K - Human AU, Sex Phone Operator Dream) Dream has a bet with Desire : he has to manage a phone sex line for some time. He's not thrilled by it. Callers are... unimaginative and unoriginal, to say the least. Except one. He has a very nice voice. He's funny. And he sounds just about as lost as he is, in life. (The tags make it sound super raunchy but it's more about developping attraction through someone's voice and getting to know someone through the phone and falling in love and.... it's just lovely, it's very sweet, it's like a little blanket with a warm cup of tea, really)

Now I KNOW this is not what you EXPLICITELY asked for but.... dare I suggest..... something with an OC thrown in the mix? Cause that's just adding a fun player to the game, with added stakes, really!

as heart for heart, for loving me by @kittttycakes (hello darling) (Explicit - WIP but soon to be finished - 151k so far - Canon compliant - OT3 if there ever was one - How to polyamory, a guide for Dream of the Endless, a primordial being who needs to use his goddamn words) When Dream finds Hob at the New Inn, he's ready to open up a little. Be a friend. Be a little more than that, though he can't quite articulate it. The only issue with that is that Hob has a girlfriend. A live-in girlfriend. A very much serious girlfriend. Dream tries his darnest to hate her, and finds he can't quite bring himself to. (It's soft, it's lovely, it has angst, it has smut, it has fluff for days, it has developping relationships GALORE (plural) and it's just a nice read to switch up your rotation, cause the potential for situations is tripled now!)

[clansocreations]

Since @diana-westmoon put a post about sharing unrefined stories onto my dash and @i-am-a-world told me to waste time only when I don't have any I have decided to make another attempt at doing exactly that.

Unless I forget all about it immediately there will be the occasional Enyr-&-Allyn-posting from now on.

A few tidbits for the start, then the first part of the story.

Tidbit Number 1

The relationship between Enyr and his patron, the Thief who Stole from the Gods is sort of like the relationship of Odysseus and Athena in Epic! The Musical (and eventually goes just as sour)

Tidbit Number 2: the first time I ever wrote about something kind of like this, neither Allyn nor Enyr were the protagonists. Well sort of. It's complicated.

Tidbit Number 3: I've been daydreaming about this story for years. Only some of it is formatted as an audiodrama script. Because this story has evolved over time in some parts the characters have different names. Different pronouns. (Allyn has xe/xir now) It would take ages to clean this mess up. But the first part, where our heroes are introduced and shooed off onto their quest is good to go! I tried really hard to make it presentable.

But hey. Ultimately I just want people to see and enjoy this story. Maybe that'll even help get me unstuck from the point where the story has been for at least the last two years.

Extra Tidbit: Taras' theme song is Birds of a Feather by Fish in a Birdcage

Anyways.

The Tale of Enyr and Allyn

Part 1 Chapter 1: Enyr

A long way from here, on the far side of a vast ocean, there is a group of four islands. And on the biggest island there stands a proud city. In the beginning, there was no settlement there. There was in fact nothing of note there on that tiny rock. A few birds maybe. But all in all it was merely empty.  Accounts of how and why people eventually began to live there vary. Folks who live on the neighboring continent may tell you of a traitor, a liar, a thief who fled to the most remote island like a coward to avoid punishment for stealing from gods. Those who live on that island and its neighbors however tell quite a different tale. In this story, the thief is a hero, who stood up to unjust, violent gods and used their newly gained power to protect those who could not thrive on the continent, those who were too different or unwanted to find a home there.  The truth, as it tends to be with some stories, is somewhere in the middle…. This is the tale of Enyr the adventurer, who knew the Thief better than anyone, and of his trials, hardship, betrayals and love. And of Hearthkeeper Allyn who wanted nothing to do with any of them, and got caught up in them most unfortunately anyway. 

In his youth Enyr decided to follow one of the gods worshipped on the islands, as many young islanders were doing at the time. Of course the Thief, as an entity of the wild stormy sea and the great unknown, could hardly be worshipped in temples. Whoever wanted to truly worship them had to set out on a journey and dedicate his life to travel. And so Enyr chose the life of a sailor.    Scene change: maybe indicated by music?

Scene 2: ENYRs time as a sailor and a life changing meeting Luke: And that life suited him well. He worked hard and when the work was done he could also loosen up and celebrate. All things considered he was a perfectly normal person. In fact, the only thing worth mentioning about young Enyr was his almost eerie knack for predicting the weather. This may not seem like that big of a talent, but keep in mind that in this part of the world the weather is largely caused by the whims and fancies of a fickle god. This strange quirk only seemed to get more and more accurate the longer he spent out at sea and soon people joked that Enyr knew if the weather was going to change before the Thief themself had even decided. Maybe it was these jokes that eventually drew their attention, maybe it was the fact that on that particular night he was the only one who was still somewhat sober. One could now speculate about fate and chance at length but do those things really matter?  Fact is that in his seventh summer as an adventurer at sea, our young friend was approached by a rather familiar stranger after a night of drink and dance…   SOUNDS: outside of a lively pub at night, laughter, music etc. can be heard, although somewhat muffled. SOUND: Slow footsteps   Enyr: (sings, very off-key, he’s clearly somewhat drunk):   Adventure at sea is the life for me, I don’t get homesick no When the captain calls and the storm rolls in A-floating I shall go Now raise your glass another time Drink and beverage ho! Like the birds on high we must look to the sky A-floating we shall….go ( He trails off. The footsteps stop)   (Beat)    Enyr (contd): Who are you?  Luke: If he had been entirely sober, he may have been able to recognize the figure leaning against the wall sooner, but as it was, at that moment he had no idea that he was speaking to his god. Only that sixth sense he had developed for the weather nagged at him: This person felt like storm season air.  The Thief (clearly amused): Who, me? I am but a stranger on the breeze. A traveler, if you will.  Enyr: Hm. You… You look so… familiar. (hiccups) The Thief (barely suppresses a fit of loud laughter): I have one of those faces. Enyr (confused): What'd you want?  The Thief: Hearthkeeper Allyn, one of my sisters most important acolytes, has been dispatched on a rescue mission. But like my sister, xe is not a traveler, so I was asked to lend a ship with crew to the cause. To guarantee xir safety and the success of the mission.  Enyr: But I don't (hiccup) sail for you, stranger, I sail for…  Luke: Suddenly the young sailor felt very sober indeed, as the proverbial coin dropped at last. The weight of his situation dawned on him. This merry stranger in front of him had once raised the islands out of the sea as an act of defiance. What reason could they possibly have to want to talk to him?  Enyr (voice wavering with doubt): And…I’m supposed to what, lead that crew for you?  The Thief: Maybe. If you think you are the right person to carry out this task when you wake up tomorrow.  (Beat) Why do you look so surprised? I wouldn't force you to do this against you will… and I certainly wouldn't ask this of you without giving you something in return.  Enyr: What would you give?  The Thief: Do you know what exactly it was that I took from the three continental gods?  Enyr: Of course I do. Everyone (hiccup) knows that. Why?   The Thief: Because I have something to give as well. And unlike them I am not too set in my ways to give it freely.

Next time: Allyn really really doesn't want to go on an adventure but it's about a kid so fiiiiine

Also there's a scene later where Enyr and Taras consider getting really wasted as part of their totally serious last ditch effort rescue mission and now that I think about it, it would be hilarious for Taras to go "oh you're one to talk booze. One time you got so utterly pissed you didn't even recognize when your god tried to talk to you" but there's no way they could know, this was literally before their time. And my totally amazing badass hero would totally have been too embarrassed to tell that little fact to anyone ever.

(also please ignore Luke. He's there because I thought I could find a home for this story in the podcast Among the Stacks which is why this is in script form also. But ultimately...nah. i have to figure out something else for Luke)

Anyways.

[anarchosimdicalist]

some dumb jocks for @rainymoodlet/@kissmeinkomorebi's bc

lou larson (contestant)

bisexual bigender butch (she/he)

adult (43)

maker, gloomy, goofball

renaissance sim aspiration

5'9

divorcedest bitch in komorebi

good with kids, has such dad energy you forget he doesn't have any

he's funny but sometimes you have to stop him mid joke to go "hey are you ok?????"

not as committed a jock as katsuo, but definitely makes an effort to keep fit, if only to make herself leave the house.

very handy - aside from woodwork, she fixes cars for fun.

hino katsuo (outsider)

none gender with left gay (he/they)

adult (38)

active, adventurous, childish

extreme sports enthusiast

5'11

dumbass slutty jock with negative impulse control and a heart of gold

a little bit of an adrenaline junkie, always looking for a new way to put himself in mild danger.

he has a tendency to make big plans for holidays or ambitious projects - and then follows through on maybe a third of them.

was a little bit of a musician back in the day - never made it big, but the important thing is he knows his way around sound equipment.

backstory under the cut - it got WAY too long but we move.

There's a story Lou likes to tell, after she's had a few drinks and she's feeling talkative. He takes one last sip to lubricate, clears his throat dramatically, and everyone leans in to listen.

"Okay, so it's Moonlight Falls. Almost 20 years ago, now? They've got this Lumberee thing going on. I used to go when I was a kid, see, and even now I'm a big grown-up boy going out on my own, I still come back every year to eat my dad's food and, fuckin', I don't know, check out the music. They have this little wood-carving competition but I only ever watch for ideas, 'cause I'm a cocky little 20something shit still and I think I'm way too cool for it.

"Except this one year there's a lady." Pause for wolf-whistles, or "aww"s, depending on the crowd. "I've been flirting with her hard, and it's going pretty smooth. I mean, she's so into me it's kind of embarrassing for her. She says she loves the woodcarving competition but I say these guys are all hacks, I've made better easily. And she doesn't believe me, but I've backed myself into a corner now and the only way out is through, so I say I'll enter so I can get her dinner with the winnings.

"It's actually way cooler than I thought. There's this old, old guy who does it every year, some teenager whose friends talked him into it, all sorts. But my favourite is this dude from out of town who entered on a whim, like me. We chat while we work and we really hit it off. Few years down the line, I switch on the TV, guess who that guy turned into? Fucking Daniel Taylor." Sometimes someone will ask "who?" and Lou will launch into a tangent. "Who? Daniel Taylor. Your Dad's Garage Daniel Taylor? Come on, man, you've seen Your Dad's Garage. Well, you should. Look it up. He's great, and he's just as nice in person. He was a really interesting guy, had some good stories - not bad to look at either. We could've been friends, probably, but I look up from the chair I'm making and I see the girl watching me, and our eyes meet across the tent, and I remember - oh, yeah, I'm not here to make friends."

And this is where his story has to diverge a little. The grand finale used to be easy - he would reach for her wife's hand, or fix her with an adoring look, or, if she wasn't around, affect a boyish, half-ironic bragging tone, and he'd say, "So I kicked Daniel Taylor's ass. My chair blows his and everyone else's out of the water, I win us a good fancy dinner and then some, and I've been with her ever since."

As it turns out, it loses its gravitas once the girl leaves you. If she changes the ending, says "and I was with that girl for almost 20 years before she told me I was "messy" and "incapable of taking her seriously" and kicked me out of her house, taking all of our mutual friends with her", the love story feels hollow. If she skips over it, it feels dishonest, and it all starts falling apart at the first follow-up question. This story is meant to end happily ever after. It isn't meant to end with Lou living on his gym buddy's futon, crying periodically and watching old Your Dad's Garage episodes because they remind him of her.

But life isn't a story, and Katsuo is getting worried. When Lou first moved in, she was somewhere between an aquaintance and a friend. They worked out together if they were both around, and Katsuo let her shower at their nearby house when he mentioned feeling off in the gendered public ones at the gym, but they rarely hung out otherwise. Still, though - when she nervously asked if Katsuo wanted a roommate after her divorce, he jumped at the chance. Sure, he needed help with the rent, but living alone had been rough - maybe they'd get a friend out of it too.

It's been months now, and get a friend they did. The two of them are inseparable, their daily routines intertwined - they work out together, cook together, Lou even got Katsuo into her favourite show (and that woodworker is one fine DILF). But the more Katsuo gets to know Lou, the more he starts to worry. He can hardly expect her to be over a relationship so long-term in a few months, but he's grown fond of her now, to the point where seeing her in this state is painful.

Katsuo's solution only makes Lou wonder if his new best friend is an evil genius or a complete idiot. Her interest in Daniel's show was minimal - he hates nostalgic cashgrabs just a little more than he loves Daniel's work - but when they suggested he go on, he couldn't deny being intrigued. When they added that they had always wanted to go up Mt Komorebi, and that maybe a little sound guy work could help cover some of those travel expenses, she laughed so hard she almost forgot about her divorce for a minute. The application process was a drunken evening filling out forms and laughing. Neither one of them had planned on it actually working.

[tlbodine]

I posted 932 times in 2022

140 posts created (15%)

792 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@feralgoblintea

@headspace-hotel

@bitegore

@derinthescarletpescatarian

@quasi-normalcy

I tagged 187 of my posts in 2022

#horror movies - 42 posts

#writing advice - 29 posts

#writeblr - 21 posts

#horror - 18 posts

#youtube - 16 posts

#i love this - 15 posts

#horror remakes - 13 posts

#horror new releases - 12 posts

#publishing - 12 posts

#asks - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 69 characters

#someone remind me to add these to the server when i’m back on desktop

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

When you start writing a story, there are a ton of decisions you need to make -- what tense you'll write in, what POV you'll choose, and how the narrative voice will interact with the characters and events on the page.

These decisions can be daunting, and they're something a lot of writers struggle with without knowing what's wrong or how to talk about them. In this guide, we go deep into the nitty gritty of perspective, from the pros and cons of different types of POV to the grammar of verb tenses and the magical power of narrative distance to hook a reader.

Buy here: https://tlbodine.gumroad.com/l/ymhos

58 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

#4

It occurs to me...

...That some people find I’m Thinking of Ending Things pretentious because the inside of their head is not a relentless series of hypothetical conversations that weave spirals between “philosophical debate,��� “showtunes that get stuck in your head,” “painfully embarrassing memories” and “self loathing.” 

Cannot relate. 

82 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

#3

Lessons Learned at My First Book Signing

I attended an in-person author event today for the first time ever. It was not an especially high-profile deal -- just a local author fair hosted by the library. But it was still the first time I'd ever set up a table for the purpose of selling and signing books and interacting with would-be readers, and I want to talk about that experience a little bit and give some take-aways and advice for other writers who might be curious about doing something like this.

Step One: Find an Event

My dear friend and co-conspirator @comicreliefmorlock tipped me off about this. She saw a flier for it at the library and I applied on a whim, not even sure if I'd get accepted for the event. But I did! And that's the first lesson I want to give you: Everything good I have in my life I got by saying, "Fuck it, let's give it a shot."

Don't get too deep in your own head about things. Don't self-reject from opportunities. Kick imposter syndrome in the teeth and just do the thing.

Step Two: Set Up a Table

I was operating on a major shoestring budget for this, and I didn't have time to put together real signage or anything fancy. But I could go to the dollar store for some Halloween flair and a tablecloth and honestly? Even that was eye-catching enough that it definitely lured some people over. Next time I'll be better prepared to do something a bit more cohesive. But even these little touches put me miles beyond most of the other authors there, who just had a small stack of books on a bare table.

A few tips:

Don't put out all your books at once. Leave most of them in the box and tuck it under the table or somewhere. Fewer books, artfully arranged = implied scarcity. And it just looks nicer.

Scatter your business card/swag around the table. Consider leaving out a dish of candy. Freebies lure people into stopping.

Put up a sign with pricing. I used a small whiteboard from the dollar store and doodled on it when I got bored.

Try to have a little flair. Keep it on-brand with the type of stuff you're writing. The goal here is to be eye-catching enough that people want to come see what you've got going on.

Step Three: What You'll Need

If you're going to attend any kind of author fair or signing event, I recommend the following:

Some way to take payment not in cash. If I'd had a Square reader today, I would have probably sold at least a couple more books. Nobody carries cash anymore (but plan to have a bit of change anyway). The sales I made today came through PayPal, and having that QR code sign (free with my business account!) came in clutch.

An assistant. If you can, try to bring someone along to be your helper. It makes a huge difference having somebody who can watch your table while you go network with other sellers, as well as somebody who can help make change and restock the books if you get busy talking to people. And on the flipside, if nobody shows up, your helper can keep you from feeling super lonely and awkward.

Some kind of swag or, at least, a business card. Bookmarks or stickers/bookplates would be baller, too. But you for sure need something with your name and some kind of identifier -- your website, your social media, your Wattpad, something. This is what my business card looks like:

See the full post

267 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

#2

Trans Horror Authors

My January reading challenge is to read a book by a trans author. Luckily, there are many out there to choose from! Here are some who write in the horror genre, because that's my area of expertise. If you know of others, whether in horror or other genres, reply with your recommendations!

In no particular order...

Caitlin R. Kiernan

A genderfluid Irish-American paleontologist who also writes spectacular cosmic horror, what's not to love? They've been repping queerness since the 80s and have a robust library to choose from, so you're bound to find something you'll like!

Poppy Z. Brite

Billy Martin, whose work is published under the name Poppy Z. Brite, was a big name in the Gothic horror scene of the 1990s and continues to be a frequently-recommended author, although he doesn't publish as much horror these days.

Julya Oui

A Malaysian trans woman and prolific short story author. She has several collections out that you can browse, if short stories are your speed! Maybe start with Taiping Tales of Terror, which draws heavily on her native folklore and influences.

Rivers Solomon

A nonbinary, intersex Black author now living in the U.K., Solomon has three books out and they all look spectacular. Their books lean more toward sci-fi/fantasy, but their newest title Sorrowland looks to be pretty solidly Gothic as well.

Gretchen Felker-Martin

Trans woman, film critic, and unapologetically outspoken. Her best-known book is Manhunt, a post-apocalyptic horror tale that doesn't pull any punches. She's got another new release slated for 2024 to keep an eye on.

Hailey Piper

One of the most prolific authors I can name off the top of my head, Hailey also has several novellas out in the world + a few novels. If the intersection of queer fiction, body horror, and cosmic horror sounds like your thing, you can find something in her backlist. Also she's here on tumblr, go learn more at @haileypiperfights

Eve Harms

A bit of a new player on the field, but well worth checking out. Eve is a Jewish trans woman. Her debut novel, Transmuted, is a breathless body horror romp. She also makes a bunch of handmade zines, which I just think are neat :)

Natalie Ironside

One of Tumblr's very own better-known names, Natalie is queer, disabled, trans, hilarious, and author to at least three novels I can think of plus some other stuff too - go scope her out on @natalieironside for the details.

.....I know I'm missing a ton of people but these were the first ones that came to mind. I have to get back to writing, but I hope this inspires y'all to pick up a book you haven't read yet, and to add to my list down in the notes.

Happy reading, y'all :)

445 notes - Posted December 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Pro Tip: The Way You End a Sentence Matters

Here is a quick and dirty writing tip that will strengthen your writing.

In English, the word at the end of a sentence carries more weight or emphasis than the rest of the sentence. You can use that to your advantage in modifying tone.

Consider:

In the end, what you said didn't matter.

It didn't matter what you said in the end.

In the end, it didn't matter what you said.

Do you pick up the subtle differences in meaning between these three sentences?

The first one feels a little angry, doesn't it? And the third one feels a little softer? There's a gulf of meaning between "what you said didn't matter" (it's not important!) and "it didn't matter what you said" (the end result would've never changed).

Let's try it again:

When her mother died, she couldn't even cry.

She couldn't even cry when her mother died.

That first example seems to kind of side with her, right? Whereas the second example seems to hold a little bit of judgment or accusation? The first phrase kind of seems to suggest that she was so sad she couldn't cry, whereas the second kind of seems to suggest that she's not sad and that's the problem.

The effect is super subtle and very hard to put into words, but you'll feel it when you're reading something. Changing up the order of your sentences to shift the focus can have a huge effect on tone even when the exact same words are used.

In linguistics, this is referred to as "end focus," and it's a nightmare for ESL students because it's so subtle and hard to explain. But a lot goes into it, and it's a tool worth keeping in your pocket if you're a creative writer or someone otherwise trying to create a specific effect with your words :)

26,119 notes - Posted July 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[doctors-journal]

21 June

I can’t believe I really did that.

This morning, we were pretending to inspect the power lines again. The detective and I had gotten bored enough that we were discussing the shapes of the clouds when the client’s wife went out. We snuck behind her on the bus again and followed her to a nice restaurant. We got another table a little ways away and ordered our own lunch.

Another woman soon came to meet her. It wasn’t like they were hiding; they kissed before they sat down and held hands on the table. They looked happy together.

The detective motioned for me to stay seated, and he went over to them. They had a brief conversation that I couldn’t hear. When he returned to our table, his expression was grim.

“A quick luncheon, and then it is time we returned to our flat and put this case to rest,” he said.

“Are you going to tell her husband?”

“Yes, with her leave. Some things are better ended, and I expect the both of them will truly be happier for it.”

Neither of us ate much, and we didn’t stay long. The two women were probably relieved when we left; they’d glanced at our table with trepidation a few times in the short time we were there. When we got back to the flat, the detective contacted his client, and he got there not long after we did.

The man rushed into the room full of nervous energy that didn’t dissipate even when the detective waved him onto the couch. “What did you find?” he demanded.

Meanwhile, the detective was like a statue; he leaned back stiffly in his chair. “We have followed your wife and met her lover. Your suspicions are confirmed.”

His client cursed. “I knew it! Who is the bastard?”

“I remind you, good sir, that vengeance has no portion here. Her identity is your wife’s to disclose as she wishes.”

“Her identity? I should have known! That two-timing bitch! She said she had experimented in uni. I should have known she couldn’t help herself!”

I couldn’t stand it any longer and interrupted, looming over him, “I am sorry that your wife is cheating on you, but you have no right to blame her orientation for your marital woes.”

He glanced between the detective and I and sneered, “I see how it is! You’re just like her! You dirty --- are all alike!”

At this point, we were both on our feet, snarling at each other, nearly ready for a fight. Even the detective was up, poised to intervene. At one time, maybe I would have thrown a punch, but instead, in my rage, I turned away from his client and kissed the detective. It was a long, pointed kiss. I finally broke away and faced his client with a flushed face and what I fancy was a fierce glare, but even now, I can hardly imagine what I was thinking.

It’s the sort of thing I would’ve joked about doing once, tired of the jeers of my classmates, but I could never have imagined I would actually have the courage to do it. I guess after everything I’ve seen, one angry, pathetic man no longer seemed so frightening. Or maybe it’s the detective’s audacity that’s rubbed off on me.

His client gave us a final look of disgust and fled.

“Marvellous!” the detective exclaimed when his client was gone. “I could not have done it better myself! I must remember to never run afoul of you—unless that is your typical rejoinder.”

My cheeks flushed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-”

He waved it off and took out a cigarette, offering me a light. I took it and sat back down.

After a moment of smoking in silence, he said more softly, “Despite everything he said, I still feel sorry for our client—not on account of your retort; that was excellent and well deserved—but I cannot envy any man who has lost his love to another. However, you have certainly made your point that you will not be swayed by the whims of society.”

The way he was looking at me, I wish I knew what he saw.

We each finished a cigarette - one for me and two for the detective - before he got up to start on dinner, and I came up to my room to collect my thoughts.

I hear the detective knocking at the door to my room now. I wonder what it is.

[siiinfully]

continued from this with @kingofthewebxxx

Oooh she shouldn't have said that, he wasn't going to kill her, she and her brother still had so much use but that didn't mean he couldn't punish her for her attitude, the only one who was allowed to make such comments with no repercussions was him, docking her pay would be the start of the game he had decided to pay, perhaps he would transfer what he had taken to her brother instead, that could always make things interesting. “If you want to use a chainsaw that badly then why don't you, I'll say it again. If you don't learn that you have to serve my every whim, then you won't last long in this organisation, I'm the best for a reason. Now it seems I need to take you down a few to mould you into what you were meant to be but that's ok, creating the perfect weapon can take time.”

“Where to start? Cannibals have always been of interest to me, did you ever get to explore your family's diet much? I guess not, well that all changes today! Not fair that you haven't gotten to try new things, first course, oh and don't move, or Tiger will make a very painful and permanent hole in your brother's head, my naughty Lynx.” His eyes lit up with crazy as an image appeared on the screen, a trained red dot following the movements of his Wildcat, her brother. Jim gave all of his operatives that he used regularly and had met in person a codename, usually after a feline, one of his favourite creatures. A charming young lady dressed in a black lab coat walked towards Jenna after two of Jim’s employees forced her into a chair, the seeming scientist attached electrodes to her temples, wrists and ankles, giving a nod of approval before leaving. Moriarty’s eyes had never left Jenna’s the whole process, stretching out his arms he held his hand out when a device with a sliding scale and two buttons on either side was handed to him.

Watching as a raw human liver was placed in front of her he watched her reaction carefully. “Now I know you aren't stupid. But I'll spell it out for you, this part is clear at least, you are going to eat it, each time you make a response I don't like or if I feel like it then you could receive a nasty little shock, not sure how much, depends on what vibe I'm getting. Failure to cooperate could mean your brother has a few holes in his spleen and whilst he could certainly survive, would you want to risk those who could wish him harm to discover his location, I think not. So eat up! Tell me what you think of the free meal I'm giving you and make sure you thank me, I might reward you.” His head tilted to the side as the words left his mouth, he already knew this was going to be fun.

+++

Ever since they lost their family, Jenna and Jedidiah knew that the backroads of Texas were no longer their home. The safety those isolated, dry winding roads offered was gone, not when the sheriffs of the surrounding towns made it their mission to patrol what the two Sawyers called theirs. And so they moved forward, even hopping onto a boat and finding their way to London and straight into Moriarty’s criminal network. His reputation had been largely unknown to the pair, but it became evident enough that he had power and influence even in the highest of offices.

But did that mean she was in awe of her employer?

Of course not.

Jenna viewed him as someone who had more resources than her and her brother, but under all that fancy talk and sharp suits was someone who could easily bleed. Someone who could die if one really put their mind to it or convinced the scores of hitmen and followers to turn against him. However, she also understood the importance of hierarchy: in their family, Grandpa had been the one everyone followed. In this ‘family’, Jim was Grandpa, and what he said went. Her sharp tongue had landed her and Jed in trouble, but she wasn’t going to start crying or begging. No, she was a fucking Sawyer: she was going to take whatever sadistic punishment he had in store.

The electrodes were new, but the addition of raw meat surprised her. She thought it would be a little more intense, given who he was, but she wasn’t about to turn down a fresh slab of human liver. Jenna stared blankly at him during his entire speech, and the only time she broke eye contact was when she made sure that her brother was doing okay. Well, okay given the situation, and then she met Jim’s gaze again.

“Thank you.” Short but straight to the point, and she lifted the fork and knife before she started cutting into her unexpected ‘snack’. Compared to the rest of the family, she didn’t eat much of their diet, so it wasn’t like she would greedily chomp everything down in seconds. She also liked to take her time and use actual eating utensils instead of shoving everything into her mouth with her bare hands. Jenna soon finished a quarter of the serving, nonplussed by the possibility of being zapped either before, during, or after it.

If anything, she was curious to see what it felt like, though of course, she wasn’t about to goad him any further by challenging him to press the buttons. Especially the one that would end up with Moran boring a few holes into her brother. It was mostly because of his safety that she even bothered with this whole charade, and she looked up once she was halfway through, to see if Jim had any other instructions for her to take note of.

[averlym]

in honor of 2021 being tomorrow i shall be posting some ridiculous nonsense from my drafts cheers you all and a merry new year ily

[yandere-sins]

who else wants a yandere teen ceo who fell for us from a interview they watched and we spilled our drink on the interviewer making the ceo laugh

I’ll ignore the ‘teen’ you threw in there because that doesn’t need to be applied here. But I do like the concept overall!

Just this over-confident, hardworking but constantly scowling CEO, who sneers at his underlings for poor performance and never seems to have a good day, of some big-name company that you applied to on a whim, absolutely falling head over heels for you after seeing the awful performance you put down in the interview. His secretary has never heard him laugh before, scaring her to the bone as she hears it ring out clearly, wondering which poor person is currently getting a new butthole torn by the CEO that he can laugh about them so much.

In reality, it's just you, on his little tablet, looking like you've just seen a ghost as you try to dry off the table and the interviewer who gets more and more agitated. He's been watching the interviews simply because he doesn't like and can't trust his HR representative to actually pick good fits for the company, and your performance was only pretty mediocre as well. However, seeing you make a fool of the rep is just too amusing to not be to his liking. You are truly delightful, perfectly imperfect, precisely what he needs by his side to balance him out. With his guidance, you could become the horror of all the employees he doesn't like, bringing dread and fear to their faces as you deliver the CEO's messages and maybe some more cups of water to splash them with. You are hired on the spot, he decides, as he sees you shake hands with the angry representative before hurrying out of the door, keeping your head low.

Rushing by his secretary, who follows quickly, he takes the elevator down to the lobby to catch you before you can leave, and you are even more amusing in real life to him. Every other employee is wary of their CEO smiling, but you just seem completely scared of him as he approaches, thinking he might be security or another important figure wanting to sneer at you. Your reactions are funny because the CEO already decided that from that day on, he will be your best friend. Throwing some unimportant documents your way, he tells you to come with him right away, ditching his secretary for you and taking you to brunch in his over-prized, leather-seat car that you couldn't even buy if you were employed in his company.

To you, it must look like a big misunderstanding, and you try to tell him politely that you were underqualified anyway as he keeps shoving fancy dishes your way while he drinks his coffee. The CEO just lets you talk. You're the first person in a long time whose voice doesn't annoy him and the first one he's been out on a date like this in years (even if it's one-sided). He doesn't comment, doesn't grunt your way as you try to figure out how to pay your portion of the bill since you couldn't resist trying at least some of the food. Until you get really quiet, sad, and depressed of fluking another interview and not being able to afford anything nice in your life like this brunch is. Perhaps the CEO just takes pity on you, no matter how strange the situation is, but nothing will really change for you going forward.

But instead of letting you wallow in your sadness, he merely pays for the food with his very shiny card before throwing it at you. "I expect you at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning in my office. Buy yourself some clothes and bring coffee. Secretaries don't need qualifications."

Saying this, he strolls out of the cafe, satisfied with himself and feeling splendid. He's off to fire his old secretary and make room for you to always be by his side from now on. You are left behind with more food than you can eat, a golden credit card, and a new job lined up, absolutely shocked with how your life is turning out. But, it's all too good to be true since you don't know who you're dealing with yet.

Given, the pay is terrific, even though your new boss wants you to stay in the office with him from morning till night. He has you follow him everywhere, do his errands, and minimal amounts of work fit for your position. But every one of your minor complaints about life is solved. There's a new apartment in your name, paid and the keys in your hand, he takes care of your debts, makes sure you eat out with him every day, get your own company car, and if he catches you staring at something while being out in the city, he has it shipped to your home. It's a dream come true!

However, that money isn't everything is something you have to learn the hard way, especially when it becomes way too much for you to handle. Your boss starts picking your outfits for you, sending you gifts that he "would like to see on you", comes over to your home with his spare keys just to "make some coffee" when he's lonely, and even makes plans for you to go out with him on your rare off days.

Sometimes he calls you into his office just to look at you. He makes you stand in front of him or give him your hand to hold, and you question it but aren't really in the position to refuse. Is this sexual harassment, you wonder as he asks you to come around his table to look at the documents he is working on, his eyes focused on you instead and his hand barely wandering to admire the clothes he picked and the fit they have on you. Admittedly, you heard people whispering about you two already. Still, you've been trying to brush it off, thinking he couldn't see you as anything else but an employee.

That is until he tries to advance the relationship to something much more intimate. You really wanted to believe you two were just co-workers, but it's clear from the moment he finally kisses you, unable to let go of your lips while he pulls you tightly against his chest, that your boss doesn't feel the same. He's ecstatic to finally let go of dumb restraints, believing that you must be feeling like he does after all he did for you. The CEO is ready to advance all of this even faster, preferable in your bedroom that he paid for to be furnished, and perhaps the wedding the next day. But to you, it's finally the time you see all the red flags rising higher and higher. You storm out of your own home just to get away from him, but he checks which hotel you are booking in, tracking your car, phone, credit card. After all, he gave those to you. And through them, he can follow you everywhere you go.

You want to leave; you really do. Had you known these are his true intentions, you'd never have started at this job. Even if you were poor before, you still had some pride in yourself and your skills, never having accepted a position that was so far off just because your boss seemed to mistake you for someone who will get into bed with anyone who pays them well. But when you open the door for 'room service,' it's your boss, easily overpowering you as you try to slam the door in his face. Instead, he slips into your room, taking a moment to admire his adorable, sweet darling fresh out of the shower before giving you an envelope and sitting down on your bed to wait for you to get dressed and have a look.

You were so stupid to just follow orders, signing papers that show you've been embezzling money and spilling company secrets to 'rival firms'. After all, you were underqualified, you didn't know what to do, and your boss was strict on you signing these papers. He's been setting you up for the possibility of you rejecting him. Everyone always did. So he decided that for once, he'd get what he wanted, no matter what he needed to do. With these fake pieces of evidence, he could sue you and multiple generations after you into financial ruin. You had to gulp at that, close to tears already as you finally read through the documents you stupidly signed on his urging.

What choices do you have? Do you want to fight this pointless battle? Or do you just accept the hand he holds out to you, pulling you onto his lap where he holds you, finally happy now that he quite literally owns you? Let him tell you that he'll treat you just as well, maybe even better from now on, that you two will live a life others could only be envious about? Your boss assures you that everything will be okay as long as you keep being his sweet little secretary, listening to his every order, and following his guidance as you always did. But your job description might change again in the future, you realize, as he holds out hundreds of thousands of dollars worth in diamonds set into a ring for you.

[gucciwins]

Golden Sparks 

Harry is new to town and signs up his eight-year-old daughter, Josie to the soccer team where he takes an interest in the well-respected Coach Y/N.

Word count: 25,027 

A/N: Hello friends! I hope you’ve been well, honestly I had this idea for a while and it wasn’t until I stepped back from another piece and came back this one that it began to flow. im proud of what I wrote and I hope you enjoy. my longest piece to date :) I do hope you all love it. 

Warnings: sweet dad harry, slight angst, slight smut

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

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"You're going to do great."

"I know, dad." Harry's eight-year-old daughter responds.

"Hey, I'm being supportive." Harry shakes Josie's foot, causing her to laugh.

"Thank you, I'm excited. Honest." Josie puts her hand over her heart, making Harry's heart melt.

He hadn't seen his daughter smile this much since they found out about the tryout that was soon to start in fifteen minutes. He felt awful making her move from their home in Georgia, but it was time, and this new opportunity would be good for them. Josie hated to leave her friends but mostly her soccer team with whom she had been with since she started playing at the age of five, but Harry promised he would find her a team, and he did.

The team was different from back home, seeing as it was an all-girl team instead of a mixed team of boys and girls. Not that he minds; he feels this will hopefully allow Josie to branch out and make friends that would not pick on her for playing what they said was "a boy's game." Those parents pissed him off back in Georgia, but he's gone, and he prays this goes well.

"Do you think mom will visit my games more now that we're closer?" Josie's green eyes peer up at him, reminding him that she looks nothing like her mother and is his little clone.

"I hope so. She was excited to hear about the move, remember." Josie nods before glancing at the field where other girls were chatting as they laced up their cleats.

Harry despised his ex-girlfriend, the mother of his child. At the age of nineteen, he became a father, and his ex, three years older than him, didn't want to raise a child to a man who wouldn't marry her. They were together for two months when he called it quits until she came back a month later, calling him an asshole for getting her pregnant. After giving birth to his beautiful girl, she gave him full custody, not wanting to worry about diapers and night cries.

All she worried about was getting her figure back. It wasn't until Josie turned one that she came back and demanded to be part of her life, leading to them going to court and getting to see Josie on the weekends, and it went well because his daughter always came back happy after a visit. When Josie turned five, Claudia moved to California because she fell in love and was going to get married. Claudia didn't care that she was leaving Josie behind. A heartbroken girl not knowing why she couldn't be part of her mother's wedding and why she moved across the country so far from her.

Josie cried for a whole week straight until the ice skates showed up on the front door with a note from Claudia for Josie to chase her dreams. Thus, having Harry sign her up for ice skating classes came to an end in two short weeks when she learned how awful the leotards looked on her.

Josie was then determined to find a sport liking the idea of being active and having the chance to make friends, which led to her seeing soccer on the TV when a commercial of Alex Morgan for Nike came on. She asked question after question until Harry told her okay, and went to call a friend to see where he could find a team for her.

The first team they found was only boys, not wanting to mix, causing both of them to get upset, but a mom took pity on them and told them of the Sunnyville team looking for players. It was perfect; seven girls and eight boys were on the team, and Josie fit in perfectly until she didn't.

At first, Josie wasn't very good; no kid is, but Harry every night took her to their large backyard and practiced with her, and within a few months, she was able to dribble a ball at her feet without looking down constantly. She wasn't the best, but she was improving.

Harry enjoyed every minute he got to help her improve because within the next few years, he saw her go from being timid to push someone away from the ball to beating someone in a sprint.

California was a significant change for Harry and Josie, but this was a big deal for the company, and Josie understood. He was happy he could do something for her now it was her turn to shine and prove why she deserved a spot on the team.

"Now go prove why you're the best, petal." Harry kisses his daughter's forehead, taking her bag over his shoulder.

She takes a step forward before stopping. "Walk with me there, daddy."

Harry's smile softens, "Of course, honey."

They march forward, their steps in sync; Harry can feel eyes on both of them as they pass parents in their chairs, some sitting on blankets spread out on the grass.

There's a woman, dressed in black Nike sweats, some fancy Nike cleats on her feet and a plain maroon tank top and over to cover from the breeze is a windbreaker; the team logo on the left side over her heart and right under is a name he can't quite make out. If Harry's being honest, she took his breath away, she's gorgeous, and she's smiling at him. Harry's sure if he kept looking into her eyes, he would fall in love.

"Hello, I'm Coach Y/N." She greets them with a big smile on their face.

"Hi, I'm Josie, and this is my dad, Harry Styles." Josie steps forward, holding her hand out that the coach is quick to shake.

"Nice to meet you." Harry finally speaks.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles. I've got all the paperwork that you submitted, and everything looks good."

"That's great." Harry nods, keeping his eyes on her. "Just Harry is fine, please." She nods, letting him know she heard him.

"Nice accent, you English?" Y/N asks.

"I am, Josie was born there too, but she's lived in the states all her life."

Y/N nods, "No wonder I didn't spot an accent on her." She teases.

"My dad sounds funny, so one of us is okay." Josie jokes at Harry's expense.

"Hey now," Harry pouts, causing both to laugh and his heart to flutter, wanting to make Y/N do it again.

"Now, Josie, how about we introduce you to the girls before we get started."

Josie nods and steps forward to follow Y/N.

Y/N addresses him one last time, "You're welcome to sit by the parents or welcome to stand behind our bench on the sidelines."

"Thank you." Harry watches the walk away, his daughter's bright pink socks standing out around the flash of black, green, and blue. He smiles, knowing he'll have a good eye on her, as will the coach.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It has been a while since the team had a tryout for the Golden Sparks team. It has not been necessary because most of the young girls are already on the u-9 team.

She had heard the rumor of new people moving into town but wasn't sure, so on a whim, she added them up in places parents were bound to see them; at the grocery store, doctor's office, the school, and the local sports store.

Thanks to the flyers, they got two responses from Mr. Styles and Mrs. Clover, who wanted their girls to join. Mrs. Clover's daughter, Caitlyn, was switching over from a different team, so she knew the girls on the team well. Josie, the daughter of Mr. Styles, would be the only one who needed an introduction as she was new to the town.

After meeting Harry, she was surprised at how handsome and young he was. Most parents here are well over the age of thirty and are married or dating.

She has been coaching for four years now and only started because of her niece Juliet who is part of the team. Y/N's older sister, Clara, had Juliet at 23 a year after her wedding and when Y/N was only 18 and about to start university. It was a good thing she had decided to go to university only three hours away and not across the country as she first thought, or she would have missed so much of her niece's and goddaughter's life.

Y/N had just graduated and knew she would no longer be playing soccer and needed something to do when her sister Naomi approached her and asked her if she could watch over Juliet for the summer so they didn't need to get a babysitter. She was more than happy to accept.

At first, they would paint, color and dance, but they got bored quickly. Y/N wasn't one to spend her time inside, so instead, she decided to take her four-year-old niece to the park with a soccer ball and make the most of it.

At the local park, they both ran around each day, chasing the ball for hours. A week later, Y/N bought Juliet her first pair of cleats, letting her shoot in the nets. As the weeks went by Y/N, saw Juliet improve as well as take direction well. She was a bright young girl, and Y/N knew she was still small, and all she wanted to do was run, but Y/N knew that because Juliet had seen her play, she knew what was right and wrong. There were times when she just ran in circles picking flowers because, after all, she was a four-year-old.

A month into summer, a mom approached her, asking her if she was a coach because she saw her there every day. Y/N laughed it off and told her she was just taking care of her niece. The mom told her it was a shame because her daughter told her it looked like fun. Y/N smiled and said to her that she was welcome to join, and before she knew it, a bunch of little girls came together to kick a ball around.

Only when Y/N had over ten girls showing up every Monday and Wednesday at a designated time did she begin to look at soccer leagues for children, and to her luck, there was one in town, an all-girls league that started from age 4 to age 18. She got the paperwork required for her to be a coach and for the girl's parents to fill out. She pitched the idea, and everyone was aboard.

That is how Golden Sparks was created, and those four-year-olds are now eight. She has watched them grow in front of her eyes. She went through her master's coaching a team. It's just something she does as a hobby, and it's wonderful because she knows how vital her coaches were for her when she was growing up. Now she can do the same.

She loves these girls, which means she had to do trial runs for how well the new girls fit in with the team dynamic. That is why today is an important day for Caitlyn and Josie.

"Ladies, may I please have your attention?" Y/N calls out to all the girls trying to juggle their individual balls as they wait for her.

The girls quickly shuffle over, passing their balls to Kate, who is setting up both nets and getting out the bright pink pinnies that Emilia's parents donated to the team that the girls will be needing.

Josie is standing very close to Y/N, and Caitlyn comes to stand to her other side.

"Now, today's practice is going to be different. We have two guests today. We have Caitlyn, who comes from Ice Angels from across town, and Josie, who comes from Georgia all the way across the country. I hope you will be kind and welcoming because we would be honored to add them to the team."

Juliet raises her hand and smiles, waiting for Y/N to let her speak. "Yes, Miss Juliet," Y/N giggles.

"Can we say something interesting about ourselves when we introduce ourselves?"

"Now, that is a smart idea. I wish I would have thought about it." All the girls smile, waiting for her to share.

"I'll start, I guess." She puts her hand on her hip, exaggerating her thinking face. "My name is Y/N, and I'll be your coach, and something interesting is that I like to paint." She turns to Kate, who is standing there, arms crossed. "You're next."

"I'm Kate, the meaner coach,"

"Kate," Y/N chastise.

"Kidding," Kate laughs, capturing all of the girls' attention. "I'm the assistant coach, and I love making tamales. Next potluck, you'll know how amazing they are."

Kate volunteers Steph, standing next to her, allowing her to share, and before she knows it, all the girls have gone. It's a calm environment, and Y/N is happy she can help these girls be a part of that. There were a total of fourteen girls, sixteen now with the two new girls trying out, meaning they would have even teams of eight, just one more than in an actual game.

Y/N makes two teams by dividing her forwards, midfielders and defenders. Then the scrimmage vest were handed out to the team where the new girls were trying out.

"Four twelve-minutes quarters," Y/N shouts, and in the next second, Kate blows the whistle, and they begin.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry was sweating, his focus was on Josie and how well she was playing, but he also noticed how the coach was whispering to her assistant coach. They were doing a lot of talking, and he did not like it one bit. They had finished two quarters and took a more extended break before the third, where Josie shot him a thumbs up after drinking water. She was too busy talking to a girl to come see him. Harry was happy she no longer felt nervous and was making friends.

He had heard nothing but good things about Golden Sparks and their coaches, but he was nervous about what they thought of his daughter. When they blew that final whistle, Harry let out the breath he was holding. Thankful that Josie would be told her fate on the team.

The coaches rounded them up, and Harry just wanted to rush over there and have them tell him there and then, but no, they were dragging it out for him. Then again, they had more than one player to look after for.

"Golden Sparks!"

It was shouted out by all the girls, and they rushed over to their bags. Josie walked to her bag, handing her pinnie to the assistant coach while Coach Y/N made her way over to another parent. A young girl with a long french braid made her way to the coach, most likely to talk about her fate on the team. Harry moves his gaze away from them when he spots Josie chatting away to a girl about her age, wearing a black top with the team's logo on it. Usually, after practice, she rushes over to Harry, and she slips out of her cleats in the car. It makes him emotional seeing her make friends, something she didn't have many in her previous team.

Before he knows it, the coach talks with Josie and the other young girl before she nods and gets up, swinging her bag over her shoulder. The three of them make their way over to Harry, chatting softly, not allowing him to hear a word.

"Hi, petal. Did well out there." Harry tells his daughter once she's an arm's length away. He frowns when she doesn't rush into his arms to give him a hug.

"Yeah, it was fun. Everyone is so kind." Josie smiles at her father.

"Mr. Styles," Y/N begins, but Harry has to interrupt.

"Harry, please."

"Sure, Harry," she emphasizes. "Josie is a wonderful player."

"I agree."

"But," Harry frowns, knowing this is not going where he would like it to. "Josie tends to hold the ball too much. When given the opportunity to use her left, she takes that extra pass to switch to her right where it causes her to lose momentum and the opening."

"I get it, she's not perfect, but neither are those players out there."

"Dad." Josie gives him a glare to be quiet and listen.

"As I was saying," Coach Y/N, her voice just a bit less friendly. "She has flaws, but we noticed she has lots of speed; she controls the ball really well. She's stellar in the midfield."

Harry shifts his eyes to Josie, who is holding back a smile, and that is when he knows she's in. "We'd love to have her join the team and help her become an even better player."

"That's wonderful, I accept."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm glad you think it's a good idea, but it's Josie's choice to make."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Josie, honey." He steps back, a tad embarrassed.

Josie lets out a nervous laugh, "I had fun."

"How long have you played?" Y/N asks Josie.

"Three years now," Josie says, looking at Harry for confirmation and nods.

"The most important question is how you felt playing with everyone?" Y/N knows how important feeling welcomed to a team can mean to someone.

Josie looks up at her, a smile on her face. "Like I belonged."

"Does that mean you're joining?" The young girl standing behind Y/N answers.

"Yes. I would love to join." Josie says, a grin taking over her face.

"Well then, welcome. Practices are 5-7pm. Sometimes we can have a scrimmage with other teams, and it will be an hour before or after just to take that into consideration. Games are on Saturday, but when we have tournaments, they are Saturday and Sunday."

"That's great. I sometimes get out of work late." Harry confesses.

"It's why practices are later because we know parents work. So just shoot us a text the day before or early morning, and either Kate or I can pick them up as well as other parents. We're great with carpooling."

Harry smiles; he likes how organized they are. He has no worries about Josie joining the team. He's happy, and if he's honest, he is kind of glad to see more of Coach Y/N.

"It was great to meet you, and I'll see you on Monday for practice," Y/N tells both Harry and Josie.

As they are going to walk away, the young girl in two dutch braids speaks, "Auntie Y/N truly is the best. She's the reason I play so well." Juliet tells Harry.

Y/N blushes, "Knock it off. Save the sweet-talk for Kate."

"She's your aunt!" Josie explains. "That's so cool."

"Harry, this is Juliet, my niece and the reason this team exists. I introduced her to the sport at age four."

Juliet nods, "Yeah, because she didn't want to rotten my head with television."

This causes all of them to laugh. Harry and Josie walk away with a smile on both their faces.

Yeah, they would fit just right in. It was beginning to feel like home.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's been a month since Josie joined the team, and he's never seen her shine as much as she has since she joined the group. It's like she's a whole new little girl, he hates to admit it, but his little girl is growing right in front of his eyes.

They had recently had a team bonding; they headed to Kate's house to swim and do a little bonfire. Parents were allowed to stick around, but almost none did because they want their daughters to feel comfortable hanging out with their friends and be themselves. Also, all the parents trusted Kate and Y/N with their daughters because of the years of friendship.

Harry wanted to stay the first time, a bit fearful she wouldn't like it and also because he wanted to get to know Josie's coach better. He hadn't had many chances to chat her up, always getting a formal greeting and a goodbye. Harry can proudly say he has a crush on coach Y/N, but he wants to have a chance to take her out and maybe take it further.

Josie begged and begged him not to stay, so he just did a quick hello and then left. What did he do in the four hours his daughter was gone, nothing. He was bored without her. Harry began to watch a movie he'd been dying to see, but it was boring. He went to call his best mate, but it went straight to voicemail, then remembered it was date night for Mitch.

He couldn't drink because he wanted to pick Josie up even though he knew she could carpool, but he wanted to hear all about it right away and maybe get one more glance at Y/N because she looked lovely in her pastel pink shirt, black leggings, and a matching scrunchie. His feelings only grew each time he saw her, but he wouldn't dare pursue anything because his daughter adored Y/N, and he wouldn't do anything to wreck that.

It was Monday, and he was driving his daughter to practice. She was on a high because she spent the weekend with her mom. Claudia managed to make her soccer game and then took her home for the week. Everyone got an insight of his ex and how she was not the kindest, but sure did adore her husband by the way she kissed him the majority of that game. Harry did not want to sit next to them, but she wanted to flaunt her relationship in his face to his luck. Not that he cared one bit, he just cared about his daughter's happiness. That she happened to be a part of.

After they won the game, she sprinted over to them after Y/N congratulated them on the win, and they finished shaking the other team's hands. Josie wrapped her arms around Harry, squeezing him tight before hugging her mother, who just patted her back before letting her go congratulating on her goal.

Claudia's interactions with Josie always made Harry upset, but what was he to do? She gave him full custody and only saw her on weekends. It was easy living, but that doesn't mean he had to like it. He wanted his daughter to have a mother figure to guide her and show her the right and wrong to show her what it is like to be strong and resilient, yet Claudia was none of that for his daughter. Sarah, Josie's godmother, did more of that, and Harry was thankful.

Showing up to practice, Harry was embarrassed and hoped Y/N didn't bring up meeting his ex-girlfriend. Josie was quick to introduce them, but thankfully the conversation didn't last long as she was called over by the other team's coach.

"Can you drive any slower?" Josie pouted, looking out the window as Harry entered the parking lot at a safe speed in case any person happened to cross in front of him.

"Josie, I'm not trying to run anyone over." Harry sighs as he finally eyes an open parking space and signals left, always cautious about an accident.

"Well, I want to talk with my friends before practice." Josie has unbuckled herself and is close to throwing herself out of the car.

Harry puts the car into park, unlocking the car door. "Fly, young one."

The grin that takes over Josie makes Harry happy. "Love you, dad."

"Love you too, Josie."

Harry slides his sunglasses on, hating how bright the sun was; it'd be a few hours until the sunset. He was nervous; he was dressed in black slacks that hugged him in all the right places with a mint button-down shirt that calls attention. He didn't have time to change today; everyone saw him in his casual clothes, never his work attire. Josie said she didn't mind, but he did. Honestly, he was nervous about what Y/N might say about his look. Not that he cared what she thought. Not one bit, right?

He went to his trunk, got out his purple folding chair, and left the matching one there. Harry is a sucker for deals which is why he walked out of the store with two when he only needed one.

He strolled, making sure no eyes were on him, and he was in the clear until he heard a shout, "Dad!" He looked over at the field, and it was Josie waving at him to sit closer to the parents. Harry shot her a thumbs up; he liked the parents genuinely. They have all been so kind and welcoming, telling him the best places to go for the team's discount.

He got along well with Payton's and Stephanie's parents. They had a good sense of humor and liked asking him questions about where he was from and how Josie was growing up. His daughter had become best friends with Juliet. They were two peas in a pod, talking from the beginning of practice to staying almost ten minutes after as they slowly took off their cleats.

Y/N didn't mind seeing as she had to pick up everything, and the girls were eager to help her if it meant spending more time together. Honestly, she was begging for a sleepover, but he kept telling her no because he wanted to meet at least one of her parents first. He wasn't sure what either one did, but Juliet didn't mind if they couldn't make it to a game because her biggest supporter was already there.

Harry approaches where all the parents sit under a shaded tree, waving at everyone before taking a seat next to a man reading on his kindle. He smiled, knowing he loved reading in his downtime as well. This would be an excellent spot to sit, conversation or not he'd be comfortable, but first, an introduction was needed.

"Hello, don't mean to bother you, but I don't think I've seen you before. I'm Harry Styles. My daughter Josie joined the team last month."

"Well, Harry Styles, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard wonderful things about your daughter. I'm Xavier Torres, father of Juliet." Xavier responded with a bright smile on his face.

Harry doesn't hide his surprise. "I've been dying to meet her parents. She's a wonderful girl, glad our daughters decided to get along."

"Yeah, we come as often as we can, but Juliet always assures us she's fine. That she has the best auntie watching over her."

"Coach Y/N is great with everyone. I've never seen anyone so dedicated." Harry shares.

"She's always been like that. I met Clara in my second year of university. She was only fourteen then, but she was so caring. I wasn't introduced to the family until we've been dating for six months, and she was shy but always offered me water or cookies she had baked. I loved having conversations with her; she has always been the smartest person in the room."

Harry grins; this definitely grew his crush on Y/N.

"I hear they are begging for a sleepover," Xavier comments, breaking Harry from his thoughts.

Harry nods, "Yes, I kept saying no because I wanted to meet the parents."

Xavier smiles, agreeing they were the same. "Yeah, we had to meet the dad."

He's shocked Xavier doesn't ask him about a partner, but then again, Y/N could have easily mentioned meeting Claudia and her husband. Harry's grateful if she did not like having to explain how he's a single dad and how he wishes his daughter's mother would do better.

"Well, now that this has happened, I have no problem with a sleepover happening."

"Glad we're on the same page." Harry laughs, grateful, their daughters will be happy with them.

Harry and Xavier spend the entire two hours of practice talking. Harry has close friends, but he wouldn't be opposed to adding Xavier to his guys' nights that happen less frequently now. At the end of practice, they exchange numbers and promise to coordinate a date for the girls. It may be summer, but the girls are still keeping busy during the week instead of doing nothing.

The girls rush over to them at the end of practice, giggling at the two fathers still chatting away.

"Does this mean a sleepover can happen?" Juliet asks, squeezing Josie's hand she's holding.

Harry and Xavier share a look and nod. "Yeah, it can happen."

"Amazing!" Josie cheers jumping up and down.

"We have to plan a day that works for both of us, so it may be a while." Josie frowns but nods. Juliet does not accept it.

"Auntie Y/N can host it."

"Your auntie is going to do what?" Y/N says, sneaking up behind her tickling her sides.

Juliet lets out a loud shriek, not being able to escape her grip. Harry beams at Y/N loving how playful she is with her niece.

"You can host our sleepover. You aren't busy like daddy and Mr. Styles." Juliet says in one breath after Y/N let her go.

"I do have a job, you know," Y/n says in a sing-song voice. Xavier laughs as Juliet pouts. "But I do have more availability than your parents. I'd do it if both of you were comfortable with it." Y/N looks up at Harry and Xavier, letting them have the final say.

Xavier throws an arm over Y/N's shoulder and pulls her in a hug. "Of course, it's a yes; I'm always looking forward to a kid-free house."

"Rude, daddy." Juliet frowns, crossing her arms.

"Only joking, my little flower. How about frozen yogurt on the way home?"

"You're forgiven."

Y/N waits patiently for Harry to answer as he has a staring contest with his daughter.

He sighs, "Yes," Josie cheers, hugging Juliet. "Only if we're really not imposing on Y/N."

"Please, Harry. I'd be honored to have them over. I'm an excellent host, and my movie collection is amazing."

Juliet smiles. "She does, also the biggest backyard so we can run around and do whatever. There's also a pool." She whispers the last part.

"Enough speaking about my house. She'll get the tour soon enough."

"So it's settled," Harry tells them.

"Guess it is; send me when you guys decide. I'm free after twelve on Fridays, and I'll take them to the game on Saturday, of course, or we can do it after a game. All up to you, gents." Y/N gets it all out there, allowing Harry to breathe a little easier.

"Good," Xavier shouts.

"I'm going home, coming Julie?" As Xavier swings his chair over his shoulder. "Daddy, you have to help auntie Y/N. You just sat on your butt for two hours."

"Hey now, I watched you practice."

"I'm going to tell mommy, you know how she feels about you not helping Y/N. She'll give you an earful." Juliet sasses her dad.

"I don't know where you got all that sass from, but I know I'm going to hate it when you're a teenager," Xavier mumbles as he goes to get the goal nets put away.

Y/N laughs before turning to Harry and Josie, "I'll see you both on Wednesday. Have a good night."

Harry watches her walk away as she races Juliet over to the balls scattered around. He smiles at the ground, hoping he could one day make her laugh that much. He doesn't notice Josie watching him, and she grins, happy that maybe one day her daddy will smile as bright as Xavier does when speaking about Juliet's mom.

They walk hand in hand to the car, both comfortable walking in silence for what the future might bring them.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N enjoyed morning games as opposed to the afternoon, where the sun was blazing high. She had a hat that was helping with the heat, thankful she hadn't started sweating yet. She loves coaching, but during the summer, it isn't the most enjoyable.

"Hi, Coach Y/N."

She turns her head over her shoulder and sees Harry approaching. She checks him out, thankful for her sunglasses; he's got a black short-sleeve button-down that shines in the sunlight, letting her know it's expensive; he paired it with white linen pants and the beat-up Vans he always wore. He always looks good.

"Nice to see you, Harry."

"How are you?"

"Doing good, bracing the summer heat."

"Yeah, not so enjoyable."

"Ready for the game," Harry says, pointing to the field that will soon have fourteen girls running around.

"Yes, they have been working hard. I'm excited, and you?"

"Oh, nervous," he confesses.

"The girls are going to do great. If they start dozing off, then we can start to worry."

Harry laughs, knowing that she is right. It's about the girl's focus.

"How long did you play?"

"Too long." Y/N jokes.

"Haha," he laughs.

"I started at six and played up until I finished university."

"Wow! You must have been marvelous." Harry is amazed that someone can play a sport that long then go to teaching. He was never the most athletic, but he was a beast at ping-pong that was all hand-eye coordination.

"I would like to think I was good."

"You started coaching when?"

"The year I turned four, and soon enough I was running, and by four she bought me my cleats and bam! A team was created." Juliet answered for her.

"I'm pretty sure you told Harry this already." Y/N laughs playfully, nudging Juliet.

Juliet shrugs, "Just like reminding."

Y/N grins, "Okay, lovebug."

"Plus, you're a great coach."

Harry nods. "I can attest to that. All the girls love you, including Josie."

"And I love them," she tells him truthfully. "We don't get many new players, but we're happy to have Josie. She earned the starting spot as right-wing."

Juliet nods, jumping up and down, "Yeah, she's really good."

"Go on, start the girl with four corners." Y/N pats Juliet's back to get her to go on the field.

"Yes, ma'am." Juliet takes off running, talking to Kate, who helps her get started, and Y/N knows it's her cue to walk away from Harry.

"Good luck, coach."

"Thank you, Harry. See you after."

"Sure, of course. I'll be cheering for you. I-i-i- what-" Harry stutters while she stands there holding back a smile as she can see the heat traveling up his face. "I mean you and the girls. A-all as a team."

"Well, we appreciate it."

Harry watches her walk away, letting out a short laugh, not being able to believe he made a fool of himself.

The game was tied 1-1 with only eight minutes left. Harry could see Y/N was calm, voice firm when speaking to the girls. Lola was about to take a corner kick, he saw her take a step back, and Harry was ready for her to strike it, but instead, she shocks him as she passes to a player who ran up to her.

This startles the other team before Brenda sends it to the center midfielder, who passes it to Josie, who is screaming she's open. Brenda sends a through ball, and off his daughter runs. She gets a foot on it, looking at where the goalie stands. She makes the pass strong enough that the goalie doesn't stop it and just for Andy to tip it in, but it's too strong, causing the ball to go over the net. It's a miss but, everyone didn't mind impressed with the play.

The last few minutes were slow as both teams were tired out, and there was no chance for another goal in two minutes. When the referee blows the final whistle, all the girls bring it in, jogging over to Y/N and Kate as they all round up in a group hug. Harry can't hear what she's saying, but he knows it's reasonable considering all the girls are sporting similar smiles. He is quick to pack up his chair, ready to say goodbye to his daughter, who is about to have a sleepover with her coach and best friend.

The girls come back from clapping the other team's hand and are quick to go sit on the bench and take their shoes off. The clean-up was accomplished quickly today. Harry is waiting to talk to Y/N as she speaks with other parents. Caitlyn's dad praises her for that play, but Y/N is quick to tell him it was all the girls; they are the players. Either way, he hugs her, and Y/N pats the older man back softly. She waves goodbye to most girls when he finally gets to approach her.

"Great game today."

"Yes, they played well." Y/N agrees.

"Your coaching reflects on them."

"In a good way?"

He nods, "The best way."

She thanks him, and he knows she's not one to be boastful, so he changes the conversation.

"You are still good to take them for the sleepover."

"Of course, I'm excited."

"That's great. What time should I pick her up tomorrow?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention earlier, my sister and brother-in-law are coming to have dinner if you'd like to join us. Xavier has been dying to use the grill, and you'll get to meet my sister and my nephew."

"Juliet never talks about a brother."

Y/N chuckles, "It's because he barely started walking, so he doesn't hold much of her attention."

"Ah, that makes sense."

"She loves being a big sister, but only when he sleeps or plays blocks."

"Older siblings got to love them."

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you have a sibling?"

"I do. She's 35 and lives in London and runs a law firm. Total badass."

"I bet she is."

"If she ever stops and visits, please bring her around and would love to get all the dirt on young Harry Styles."

"Only if I get to do the same."

"Stop by Sunday, and you'll get the chance." She shrugs at him as she walks away.

"See you Sunday then." Harry shakes his head smiling as she grabs a bag of soccer balls and begins walking to the parking lot.

Josie runs over and gives him a big hug. "See you tomorrow, daddy."

"Bye honey, call me if you need anything."

"Sure, I love you." She yells as she runs to Y/N and Juliet, who are waiting for her at the end of the grass.

Harry knows she's in good hands, but his heart can't help but miss his little girl. He'll see her tomorrow and Y/N as well. He ignored how hard his heart was thumping at his interaction with Y/N instead of letting himself get lost in the idea of the beautiful afternoon that was to come tomorrow.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N had a great time with the girls. She promised she would let them do their own thing and just supervise, but both girls wanted her involved. As soon as they arrived at her house, Juliet gave Josie a tour of her home, taking her room to room before they ended up in the backyard, both dressed in their bathing suits to go swimming.

She couldn't help but laugh, knowing how eager they were to go jump in the pool despite playing an intense game for an hour in the blazing sun.

"You little ladies must eat first before you can even think of swimming," Y/N says, arms crossed over her chest, knowing Juliet was going to try to fight her on it.

"Auntie, that's not what we want to do."

"Maybe so, but your tummy's say otherwise."

Josie steps over from behind Juliet to stand next to her. "I would like to eat. Dad says we need to regain all the energy we worked off."

"Your dad is a smart man, Jo." Y/N nods to the girl. "It's a 2-1 vote, then."

"Fine," Juliet groans dramatically.

The girls sit at the table as Y/n begins to boil pasta. She decides on pesto as she has had a craving, and both girls happily agree. In just thirty minutes, she serves the girls two even plates, and they have a flowing conversation. Mainly, Josie and Juliet do the talking, occasionally asking YN her opinion or a question they want her to answer.

After the late lunch, she sends the girls to wash up and meet her outside to lather them in sunscreen. She puts most of her dishes in the dishwasher and soaks her pans in water, wanting it to be easier to wash later when the girls give her a free moment.

"Thirty minutes we are waiting," Y/N tells them, the sun lotion bottle in hand.

"Come on, you believe in that?" Juliet asks.

"Okay, little miss rebel, since when do you always question everything I say." Juliet's eyes go wide, and she shrugs.

"Alright, listen. I adore you, Juliet, but it's not nice trying to take advantage of me because you have a friend over."

Y/N waits for her to say something, but she nods her head and moves to hug her around her waist. She hears her mutter a sorry, and when Y/N brushes her hair back, she sees Juliet move back to look up at her. "I'm sorry."

Y/N gives her a small smile. "It's alright. Now sit down so I can get your back."

Josie patiently waits her turn, and just as Y/N finishes Juliet, she speedwalks to the edge of the steps and sits on them, letting her feet get soaked. Josie sits patiently as Y/N spreads the sunscreen to her shoulders, then turns her to get her face and neck, allowing Josie to rub it into her legs.

"All done, Josie." She stays seated on Y/N's patio chairs under the shade. Y/N doesn't question her not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Is it okay if I go join Juliet?" Josie asks in a soft voice.

Y/N almost awes out loud at how polite Juliet is, "Of course, go on. I'll let you know when it's okay to go in."

Looking out at the spacious yard, Y/N frowns, getting lost in thought about how she has the perfect home, but it gets lonely. It might be time she looks into getting a pet. She'll have to go check the local shelter soon but knows she should think about it for a while longer.

The ringer of her phone tears her out of her head when she hears the splashing, "Is it, time auntie?"

"Yeah, sweetie, it is."

Quickly she swipes three pairs of goggles from the table just as she begins to hear their splashing paired with laughter.

"Are we playing mermaids, auntie?" Josie asks as Y/N steps into the water, relaxing in the cool water, not suffering from the heat.

"We sure are," Y/N raises the three goggles and hands over one to each of them.  

It's after two hours that they all emerge from the pool, deciding to head into the shower seeing as the sun has begun to set. She ushers them carefully to the shower letting Josie use the guest room and Juliet her room seeing as they are the only two rooms fully equipped with towels and shampoo.

After the three of them are clean and changed in the pj's, Y/N makes popcorn to snack on while they play a few board games. They switch from Uno to Candyland to Mancala. It goes on for a while until they decide to put on a movie deciding on Tangled.

It wasn't until a quarter to ten that Moana watched Maui sing "Your Welcome," they began to yawn and started trying to fight back to sleep. Y/N thought they would never go down to sleep because two eight-year-olds have too much energy. Y/N paused the movie and told them it was time to sleep. Neither girl put up an argument.

She guided them to the guest room that had become Juliet's over the years. The girls get tucked into bed after brushing their teeth.

"Thank you for a great day, Y/N," Josie whispers, grabbing her wrist, halting her, tucking their blanket.

Y/N smiles at the kind girl. "Of course, sweetie. It's been a joy having you here."

Y/N goes to Juliet, gives her a kiss on the forehead, whispering a quiet goodnight who already has her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady. She goes to Josie, who's looking at her with wide eyes. "Would you be okay with a forehead kiss goodnight? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Y/N addresses the young girl.

Little does Y/N know that small comment was enough for Josie to seal Y/N in her heart forever for her kindness. "Yes, please." Bright green eyes look up at her with a small smile as she gives her a soft kiss.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Jo."

Y/N goes to her room and does her night routine taking extra steps due to getting more sun exposure today. She loves how she feels putting on moisturizer at the end of the night. She lays in bed under her soft white covers. Her eyes shut, and she begins to count backward. She reaches all the way to one and tries again but stops halfway, sighing, knowing there's no chance she'll sleep; she heads to the kitchen to make herself a tea.

With her chamomile tea in hand, she sets it on the chrysanthemum coaster on the side table, picks up the book she left there, and sets it in her lap as she turns on her television to Netflix, deciding on The Great British Baking Show to use as white noise. She presses play on where she last left off, forgetting the book in her lap as the bakers had to make a raised game pie for their signature.

Y/N had already watched collection three, but it was one of her favorites. She loved the bakers and liked watching Nadiya improve each episode. The technical challenge was getting started, the bakers reading their vague instructions to make the tennis fruit cake when she heard small steps down the stairs.

She turns around, spotting Josie making her way down, "Hi there, you alright?"

Josie just nods but continues towards her, joining her to sit on the couch. "Can't sleep?" Y/N asks to share her lavender throw blanket with Josie.

"Not really."

"Yeah, I get restless sometimes as well."

Josie stares, tilting her head as if trying to figure out why she can't sleep, "What do you do to try to sleep?"

"Well, I usually try to read a book in bed, but I decided tea and a bit of tv would help."

Josie nods, and Y/N can tell she's working up the courage to ask her something. "Can I please try with you?"

"Of course, would you like tea as well?"

"Chamomile?"

"Sure, that's what I was drinking."

"Daddy adds a bit of honey."

Y/N smiles, "Honey, I can do that."

She goes to the kitchen alone, getting Josie her favorite mug with bees scattered all around. As soon as she's done making her tea and checking it is at a suitable temperature, she brings it out to her. Y/N sees Josie has put play on the show.

Y/N just grins, happy the girl likes the show as well. "Have you seen this season?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, me too."

"Nadiya is excellent," Josie comments as Nadiya wins first in the technical challenge.

"She is! I'm glad they picked her as the winner though she had strong competition against Ian and Tamal."

Both Y/N and Josie sit there in silence, sipping their teas, watching the bakers now try to make Charlotte Russe cakes for the showstopper. It's not until the presentation begins that Josie breaks their comfortable silence.

"Why can't you sleep?"

"Well, uhh, sometimes I can't get my brain to shut down and have lots of thoughts swirling around."

"Oh," Josie responds. "Do they ever stop?"

"Yeah, usually when I count backward or tell myself a story."

Josie looks delighted at hearing Y/N sharing this with her. "What kind of story?"

"A sweet one, one my grandparents used to tell me, or I make one up."

"And it works?"

"Almost always."

Josie continues with her questions, but Y/N doesn't mind. "Do you get bad dreams?"

"Not always, but sometimes, do you, Jo?"

Josie smiles, "I like that."

"What?" Y/N says, puzzled, aware she avoided the question.

"Jo, dad calls me honey, darling, Josie and Josephine when I do something I'm not supposed to, but no one ever has said, Jo. I like it."

"Oh, I'm glad. It's alright that I keep calling you that then."

Josie repeatedly nods, "Of course."

Y/N looks back at the TV focusing on the new episode that started during the talk.

"Sometimes I dream I'm back in Georgia with daddy." Josie is looking down at her lap, where she draws a circle on the palm of her left hand with her right index finger.

"Yeah, how does that make you feel?"

"Sad sometimes and sometimes happy."

"Why is that?" Y/N asks in a soft voice.

"Well, mommy called me more when I lived farther away. Now I don't get to see her every weekend even though that's the deal. She doesn't even like watching me play."

"That must be tough, Jo. Have you shared this with your dad?"

Josie shakes her head no. "He'd get mad at mom, and I don't want anyone fighting."

"Don't think it's fighting. Your dad just wants the best for you and wants your mom to see that as well."

"I guess."

"Did you know I've visited Georgia?"

"You have?" Josie sits up, crawling closer to her, excited at the change in conversation.

Y/N nods, "My grandparents had family there, so every summer, we'd make our way there. Spent all our time at the lake or just walking through the woods. They lived in a secluded area, so lots to roam."

"We lived in the city."

"I bet you still went to neat places."

Josie thinks about it for a minute, "We did, the weekends were for the lake, and it was easy to drive to another state for a week."

Y/N laughs, knowing how exciting it was visiting a new state in a matter of hours compared to how hard it is in California. "Yeah, I liked that as well."

"What's your favorite memory?"

Y/N stops to think about it; it has been a while since she thought back to her times there. She hasn't had the chance to go back since her grandparents passed away.

"The fireflies. I remember we were in one of my uncle's backyard, and he was showing us his peaches. When I saw a buzz of light followed by another, and soon enough, they were all around us. My uncle tells me he'll never forget the look on my face because it was true happiness and disbelief."

Y/N's smile is nostalgic. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can picture the fireflies surrounding her. She's brought back to the present when she feels a small hand placed over her own.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," Josie says before she leans over, giving Y/N a hug.

Y/N laughs and hugs her back, happy she got to know this sweet girl better.

"I think it's time for bed."

"Okay."

As they begin walking up the stairs after making a stop in the kitchen to put their mugs in the dishwasher, Y/N stops outside the guest room.

"You're really wise for your age."

Josie nods, "My dad tells me that all the time."

Y/N can't help the smile that Josie draws out of her, "Goodnight."

"Night."

Y/N goes to bed with lots more on her mind. Her thoughts on the young girl who is caring more on her shoulder than she lets on. Josie has grown us quicker and doesn't realize it due to her experiences. Y/N goes wondering what tomorrow will bring.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

A lot was running through Harry's mind after the dinner he had on Sunday with Y/N and her family. Trust him; he enjoyed it. He adored seeing her in a different environment, but she seemed distant, and so did Josie. It's as if the two gravitated towards each other more. Always whispering to each other.

He enjoyed seeing them get along; he just didn't like not being included. This also made him second guess in pursuing Y/N. He wasn't willing to risk it not working out. Harry also knows he's not sure if he'd survive the heartbreak.

It's been a while since he's put himself out there, but as a single dad, he feared that no woman he had met was good enough to meet Josie, not after learning that he had full custody.

Y/N's sister was kind, always teasing Y/N but Y/N gave it right back. He could tell the love they had for each other was the kind he shared with Gem. They might not have been that close in age, but they appreciate each other better as adults. Harry loved Y/N's nephew, who stumbled every few steps he took, which is why Y/N took it upon herself to have him attached to her the whole night.

It warmed Harry's heart and gave him all kinds of crazy ideas, for example like a baby that was half him and half her that he'd love just as much as Josie.

Fuck, he had it bad.

Harry's thankful it's Wednesday, and he gets to see Y/N again. He didn't make practice on Monday having Sarah bring her, and today Y/n picked her up from his house where Mitch was watching her because he had a meeting that would be running long. Luckily, he made it just in time before the practice started.

He knew he was going to stand out, showing up wearing creamed flared trousers and a black silk button-down. Harry had taken off his cropped, lapel grey plaid jacket knowing the heat would eat him alive if he left it on.

Harry chuckled to himself as he walked from the parking lot; his folding hair swung on his shoulder. He waved to the parents before setting up alone under a tree, wanting to enjoy the shade today and no conversations unless it was from one specific person.

He sees her pocketing her phone in her bag and knows this is his chance to talk to her. He makes his way discreetly as possible, going behind the parents, who are all currently staring down at their phones.

"Y/N,"

She turns, she scans him head to toe quickly, not wanting Harry to catch her, but he does. He lets it boost his ego a little.

"Harry, a bit dressed up, no?"

He chuckles, doing a little spin for her. "Not at all, haven't you heard business casual is the new uniform."

She shakes her head at him, "We'll take it into consideration."

"That's all I ask."

Y/N looks over to Kate and motions for her to get the girls' warm-up started.

"Dinner was nice."

Y/N nods, "It was. My sister really likes you."

"That's good. She's really funny."

"She knows it." Y/N rolls her eyes playfully.

Harry knocks his hips into her, "Don't worry, you're still my favorite."

"Gee, I was so worried." Y/N fakes dramatically but isn't able to hide how her cheeks heat up at his compliment. "Now, you need to go sit. I have to coach. Parents are going to think I'm flirting."

Harry smirks, "I don't mind the flirting."

"Styles, you'd know if I was flirting."

"I'm just going to say that I very much am."

"Hmm, I'll take that into consideration. For our future conversations."

Y/N joins the girls as they are about to start their second lap; Harry slowly makes his way to his waiting chair, happy that Y/N might like him just as much as he likes her.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N pulled Josie aside before the scrimmage wanting to speak with her noticing she wasn't connecting with the team as she had on Monday.

"Doing okay?" Y/N asks as Josie gets a drink of water.

Josie nods, "Of course."

"Well, Juliet told me you didn't want to hang out. She said you had wanted to try that donut place with us on Friday."

"Because I had plans with my mom."

"Oh, that's fun."

"No."

"Why not?"

"She said she was busy," Josie murmurs.

"Well, you're still welcome to join us on Friday. I'm going to take Juliet to get ice cream at my favorite shop after practice. You're welcome to join." Y/N offers, knowing the little girl needs something to cheer her up.

"Does my dad have to come?"

"Not if you don't want him to."

Josie shakes her head no.

"Okay then."

"I'll go ask permission now."

"You can wait," Y/N laughs at her eagerness.

"No. I tell him now, and he can think it over while I play."

"Okay, sure. Don't take long."

Josie nods about to take off, but Y/n stops her. "Josie, I'm sorry your plans changed."

"She's been doing that more." She shrugs as if she's not bothered.

"Just because she is doing that doesn't mean you aren't loved. Your dad loves you and your godparents; the team does as well. I do, also. You're amazing, Josie." Y/N tells her, knowing Josie needed to hear it from somebody other than her father.

Josie's eyes shine, but she blinks the tears away. She gives her a quick hug before turning around and running towards Harry. From the corner of her eye, she sees Josie dramatically asking for permission as she lets her father retie the laces of her boots. Y/N smiles because she loves Josie, and if given a chance, she might also get an opportunity to love Harry. Y/N looks forward to watching what the future may bring.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Kate had organized a pizza party for the girls because they had been doing so well and thought they deserved a reward. Y/N and Kate always talked about motivating and encouraging the girls for their hard work and dedication. They would do small gatherings or bring them a treat to enjoy after practice, and the occasional Monday off that happened on significant dates or when they as a coach needed a break which wasn’t often because they loved this and the girls.

A pizza party was fun, it allowed parents to interact somewhere that wasn’t crazy hot, and the girls got to eat their weight in pizza. Y/N personally loved it because she got to eat crazy good buffalo wings. Kate and Y/N always shared a basket.

Y/N had sat in a booth with Kate across from her knowing the girls would take up two of the long tables. They rather not squeeze in between when they have a good view of them here.

“Anyone I should be aware of, Thomas, was it?”

“Uhh, no. He turned out to be a jerk who couldn’t get me off.”

“Gee any louder, Katie, would you.” Y/N smiles at Cynthia’s parents, who are in line waiting to order themselves around some beers. Y/N was never one who got into drinking, but it doesn’t bother her those who do.

“Anyways, the one who is coming is Tiffany, and we have been talking for a week, and I think I may be in love.” Kate sighs, a faraway look in her eye as the waiter drops by her beer. Y/N eyes it, not liking how much foam was in the cup.

“You say you’re in love each time.”

Kate rolls her eyes at Y/N, “Well, I mean it this time.”

“Sure.”

“No, you’ll see. Tiff should be here soon. She got the most gorgeous curls and the most perfect brown eyes. Then when she talks Spanish to me, I have an idea what she’s saying, but it turns me on like crazy.”

“I can translate for you.” Kate rolls her eyes, knowing Y/N’s Spanish was perfect due to her high school and college years, not to mention she took YMCA classes at seven. “Anyways, let us move on from the conversation.”

“Okay, let’s talk about your sex life.”

Y/N chucks a piece of lettuce at Kate hitting her square on her chin. Before Kate can retaliate, Harry steps towards them, “Hello, ladies.”

“Hi, Harry,” Kate responds by making crazy eyes at Y/N.

“Mind if I join you, don’t think Josie would like me sitting with her or alone.”

Y/N nods, “Of course, but only if you don’t mind sliding in. I like the edge seats, or you can sit with Kate.”

Kate shakes her head no, “No, he cannot. My date should be here soon.”

Y/N gets up to let Harry slide in, he does a little wiggle to get to the other side, and Y/N does her best to hide her laugh. It seems to work, as he didn’t mention it. Y/N feels her body heat up because their thighs are touching. She feels ridiculous getting worked up over a simple touch.

The next hour flies by, and Tiffany arrives during that time, and Y/N loves her. She is as gorgeous as Kate described, her hair long falling down her back in thick ringlets, her brown eyes captivating, and her golden skin shines with just a hint of sunlight. She can see why Kate was smitten, but getting to know her and Y/N can happily say she’s a perfect fit for her best friend. She hopes it works out for Kate because this will be a heavy heartbreak if it doesn’t.

Y/N excuses herself, wanting to check with the girls. She approaches the table sitting by the pinball machines. The girls have question after question for her that she happily answers. She looks to see Juliet, happily leading a conversation with a quiet Jo sitting next to her staring out the window.

She excuses herself from the girls and places a hand on Juliet’s shoulder, who stops her chatter to grin up at Y/N before continuing like she never stopped. Jo just smiles at her before looking at the other girls acting as she was involved in the conversation, but Y/n knows better.

“You alright, Jo?”

“Of course, a bit full, that is all.” Y/N stares at those green eyes long and hard before nodding.

“I’m just over there if any of you need anything.”

“Yes, thank you, coach.” Most girls answer in unison.

Y/N goes back to their table, and Harry smiles, scooting over, “Saved your spot. Susan tried to nab it.”

“My hero.” She giggles.

The conversation around Y/N flows easily; she laughs and comments. There is a moment where Harry squeezes her thigh affectionately when she makes a witty comment defending him and his style. She wishes he’d rest his hand there, but he moves it back on top, also not wanting anyone to be suspicious.

As much as Y/N is having a lovely evening, her gaze drifts over to Josie, who hasn’t uttered a word since she was with her.

Harry is too busy chatting and having a nice time to notice how quiet Josie has gotten, not that she blames him; the place is loud and complete because it’s a Saturday afternoon. This worries Y/n as she has seen Josie withdrawing more and more but didn’t want to believe it. Josie hides it reasonably well.

Y/N hopes she’s wrong and that sweet Josie is only having an off day.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry was happy to see Josie loving California. He knew it was a risk moving across the country when the East coast is all she had ever known. Josie has shown him nothing but happiness; he can't wait to see how she does in the Fall when she goes back to school. The great thing is she will have friends due to the girls on the team. Also, he hates to admit it, but it has been good for Josie to see more of her mom. Allowing them to build a better relationship. Harry only wishes the best for his daughter and hopes he has been doing that so far in her life.

It's Wednesday, and Harry feels his weeks go by faster now that they have a structured routine. He always gets excited because he knows that he'll have a chance to chat with Y/N no matter what.

They arrive five minutes before practice starts, making Harry rush out of the car, holding Josie's hand as she pulls him along, wanting to apologize to Y/N.

Y/N approaches them as they reach the area where all the girls have just started their warm-up lap.

"We're so sorry. We got stuck in a traffic jam." Harry rushes out, hating to get his daughter punished for his tardiness.

She shakes her head at him, not bothered. "Go on join the others, Josie," she gently touched her shoulder. "I've got to chat with your dad."

Josie gives her an uncertain look, but she assures her with a smile. She runs off, joining the second lap at the back of the two lines.

Harry stands there, uncertain, not sure what she needs to tell him. By the solemn look she has, it might not be good.

She walks off to the side a distance from the parents and has an eye on the girls finishing up their warm-up laps before going into a stretch.

"Josie brought up something I think you need to know."

Harry waits, allowing her to go on, knowing he shouldn't interrupt.

Y/N takes a deep breath before looking him in his eyes, "Josie says her mom told her she needs to stop calling her and to stop with the visits. That she's pregnant, and that's her priority, not her."

Harry's jaw drops. He didn't know Claudia could be so cruel to their daughter. He wasn't even aware she was pregnant or that she wanted more children. Mostly he hates that he does not hear this from his daughter.

"She told me she was afraid of how'd you react to the news, but I told her she needed to address it, and by your reaction, I assume she didn't."

Harry shakes his head. "No, we celebrated the win and had a good weekend. Seemed happier than normal honesty."

"It's common for kids to try to block it out. As someone who had to go through her fair share of child therapy, I feel like it would be good for her to see a therapist." Y/N tells him, voice gentle, knowing this is a lot for Harry.

"Why" Harry bites back, defensive. "She's fine, happy, and laughing."

"Harry, I'm not saying she's not, but she needs to talk about it. Jo won't be with you, and it's because she trusts and loves you and doesn't want to hurt you. She thinks she is protecting you; an eight-year-old shouldn't be trying to protect her father."

Harry feels himself boiling, no longer wanting to hear any more of what she has to say.  

"The signs are there."

The signs," he scoffs.

"Quietness, sadness, isolation, anxiety." She points to the field, and he turns to see Josie stretching alone, lost in her own head. No longer sitting between Juliet like she always had the last few weeks. A frown on her face seems to be permanently placed.  

"You've got no right to say this." Harry wishes she never brought this up.

"I'm doing this for her, not for you."

Harry has had enough; he wants her to hurt her like he is right now, which is why he lets his mouth speak before he can think over what he has said, "Who do you think you are? Honestly, you're a lousy soccer coach who has nothing better to do but judge kids and their parents."

"Harry," she whispers, trying to mask her hurt.

"No, you've said enough. I think you can forget about Josie playing for this team." His voice dripping with venom. "Seems all you wanted was extra cash in your pocket with the addition of a player ."

He walks towards the field. "Josie, we're leaving," Harry doesn't care that the other parents are watching now. He throws Josie's bag over his shoulder as he watches her jog over to him,

"We just got here. I was warming up."

"Josie, we're leaving." No room for argument in his voice, but Josie stands her ground.

"I don't want to leave." Her voice falters as she stares up at him.

"Josie, don't."

"Dad, I like it here, Coach is-"

Harry cuts her off, "Enough, Josephine, you're not coming back here ever."

Those words bring tears to her eyes; she drops her head, defeated. She follows behind Harry and turns to look at Y/N one last time, shooting her an "I warned you look."

Y/N watches them walk away, and she can only hope this is the last she sees of them. She shakes all her feelings out, knowing she has all eyes on her right now. She's got a team to coach, and just like that, she brushes away Harry and his cruel words, knowing they'll resurface later in the appropriate environment.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

After leaving the practice field, Harry And Josie did not speak a word to each other or the next day. They continued in silence, not for Harry's lack of trying to get a word out of Josie; she was just that upset with him.

All he received were head shakes, and Harry was worried. He cooled down after and let everything sink in, but the damage was done; it was too late.

That same night Harry called Claudia to confront her to tell her he would be taking her to court to forget seeing Josephine. All she responded was that it was quite alright. She was giving him full custody and would be sending him the paperwork she had already signed. Then hung up the phone on him.

Harry was appalled that a mother could do this to their child, to abandon them with no care. He always knew Claudia wasn't a good person, but he wished better for his daughter, and right now, even he didn't feel good enough for his angel girl.

On the fifth day of silence between his daughter and him, he received an email he was tempted not to open due to who it read the sender was. He did so anyway; it was the name, phone number, and location of a therapist nearby. The email read professional, not a hint of the last few months of knowing each other. There was an endnote that said to give her as a reference. He knew he would think it over for now.

On the seventh day of his daughter ignoring him, he called the number that he marked down on his phone. He called and set up an appointment for the following day; he knows it could have been longer if he didn't name drop Y/N. Harry knows he needs to apologize, but he's not sure where to begin or if it would be appropriate to show up at her house, but he decided to focus on one thing at a time, and that would be Josie.

Harry would have liked to walk hand in hand into the big building with big windows overlooking a secluded private park, but Josie walked ahead and sat herself on the rainbow-colored couches for kids and picked up a Judy Blume book to read.

Harry walks to the front desk and admires all the photos pinned up behind the receptionist. He knows they must be patients with only their first name signed. His favorite is a dinosaur swimming on a floaty holding a milkshake; there was some natural talent hanging on the wall as well as a lot of imagination.

"Sir, here for?" The receptionist called him for his turn, not noticing the person in front of him was now seated.

"Styles, Harry. Well, Josephine," he corrects. "Sorry."

"No worries, all parents do that their first time."

He awkwardly laughs.

"Dr. Sylvia Hernandedz will be with you shortly." He thanks her, going to sit on the black couch. He sinks right in full of comfort.

Five minutes later, they are called to go. He reaches for Josie's hand, and she lets him take it but doesn't make any move to hold him; it's as if he's carrying dead weight. Harry sighs but follows behind the receptionist.

"Hello, Styles family, lovely to meet you." A woman in her mid-forties greets them, a nice styled bun not a hair out of sight. Glasses on the bridge of her nose. She has a dark blue pencil skirt and a white buttoned shirt tucked in. He feels not as uncomfortable as he thought he would.

"I'm Syliva Hernandez, and you must be Josephine Styles." She leans down to be eye level with Josie and sticks out for her to shake.

"Yes, Dr. Hernandez. A pleasure to meet you." Josie responds politely.

Dr. Hernandez smiles. "Now, how'd you know I was a doctor?"

"The frame behind your desk shows your credentials." She points to the USC doctorate hanging behind a desk full of framed photos.

"Well, aren't you an observant girl?"

"Thank you."

"Would you like to accompany me to this playroom while I chat with your father? I can have my friend Alycia join you if you don't want to be alone."

Josie shakes her head no, "I'll be fine. I like being alone sometimes. I had a very wise person tell me it's okay to want to be alone sometimes, but it doesn't mean you're alone."  

"Did your dad tell you that?" Dr. Hernandez asks.

"No."

"Very, well off you go. We'll have an eye on you but feel free to use all the items in there."

"Thank you." Josie slips right in, grabbing paper and colored pencils, carefully pulling out her desired colors.

"Have a seat, please, Mr. Styles."

"Thank you."

He sits in the mahogany chair; he can't say he likes it much.

"These chairs are awful. My office is better furnished, I assure you."

Harry tears his eyes from Josie to look at the therapist.

They are silent, and Harry isn't sure what to do.

"Uhh...Y/N Y/LN recommend us to you. I'm not sure if they informed you or I had to let you know."

"Yes, I'm aware. She's a great person." Shutting down conversation.

"Your daughter's birthday."  

"December 13th, she's eight".

"How long have you been separated from her mother?"

"Since before her birth. We have a court agreement that I get weekly, and she gets her weekends, but that has recently changed. I have full custody of her.

"How does that make you feel?"

"Not okay; I grew up with divorced parents. My mother never remarried. I have an older sister, but we live in different countries."

"Do you fear the same for her?"

"Think it's worse for her. Josie's mother told her she didn't want her anymore because she would be having a baby. She didn't even tell me. She told--," he cuts himself off.

"Who did she tell?"

"Her soccer coach."

"A female?

"Yes. They are close. Have a real bond, an understanding of sorts."

"Do you think she is looking for a female to look up to?"

"It would make sense. My mother lives in London, and we only see her on holidays, same with my sister. She gets on well with my best mate's girlfriend, Sarah. She taught Josie to play the drums a bit. Also, Glenne, a dear friend."

"Male figures in life?"

"Too many. Mitch, Jeff, Adam, and his kids. Tyler, a family friend."

"It seems she has paternal figures, but she's searching for maternal figures." She states before continuing, "What's the reason you brought her in?"

"The coach addressed to me that she was worried that she was withdrawing herself, becoming anxious and lonely. Less happy. I didn't see it, but we've gone a week without speaking, and I've seen her mope and stare off a lot."

"Is she still seeing her coach?

"No, that's part of our not talking. I got upset over the suggestion of therapy and took that away from her."

"It led to a negative response."

"Yes, and I feel awful about it."

"It seems that the sport and coach are important to her and who she is. It's what you call a safe place."

"But she was beginning to withdraw from there as well," Harry states, not knowing it couldn't be so safe if she was isolating herself.  

"Well, we'll have to talk with her. Are you comfortable with me speaking with her alone? I do have to let you know what I speak with her is confidential. She can tell you about it, but you cannot ask me."

"Yes, of course. It's fine, I understand." Harry knows therapy can be scary, but it can also be the start of something better.

"Well, let me call her back."

Dr. Hernandez stands and opens the door, "Josephine, come with me, please." Josie nods her head, putting the colored pencils away and bringing her picture with her.

"I apologize if we took too long."

"Not long. Enough to finish my drawing." She shares, giving the doctor a small smile.

"Can I have a look?"

Josie hands it over, Dr. Hernandez turns it so they can both see what she drew. It's a photo of a goal net and who he assumes to be himself in the net. A little girl with two pigtails standing there, hands raised, and another female is to the side cheering with a megaphone.

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you," Josie says proudly.

"Do you think I can keep it? Have you sign your name and add it to the front desk."

"Would you?" Josie's eyes go wide at someone other than her dad hanging up her art.

"Of course."

"That'd be wonderful." And for the first time in a week, she turns looking up at Harry. "Did you hear that daddy, Dr. Hernandez wants to keep it?

"I would too; it's beautiful, darling."

"I can make another."

Harry smiles, grateful, his daughter is her vibrant self, "Thank you, honey."

"Josephine, are you okay with your dad stepping out and you talking with me privately one on one?

"Yes, I like you. Also, you can call me Josie."

Dr. Hernandez nods in acknowledgment before turning to address Harry.

"You can wait in the waiting room. Alycia will bring you back to discuss in my office when we are done."  

Harry mutters okay and walks out, closing the door behind him. He walks a few steps before laying his head to rest on the wall. This has felt like a lot, but he also feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder.

Maybe I need to see a therapist. Harry thinks to himself, liking that he got a lot off his shoulders in just a short amount of time.

He's walking down the hallway when he hears a familiar voice, one he didn't think he'd have the pleasure of ever hearing again.

It stops him in his tracks.

He hears her voice once more and follows it out to the waiting room he's supposed to be waiting for his daughter.

Harry sees that she is talking with Alycia, and as he steps closer, he feels like it is harder to breathe.

"I have three more clients before I'm done for the day, but I have a thirty-minute gap, so maybe we can order smoothies, my treat." She tells the secretary handing her two twenty bills so that she can get everyone a drink.

"Y/N," he gasps out.

His eyes roam her body; he's never seen her dressed, so office official always used to see her in shorts, sweats, leggings, and a t-shirt. She's wearing this blue satin silk blouse tucked into high-waisted black trousers and low heels.

She is gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

Y/N turns, not at all trying to hide the surprised look on her face.

"You're here." She nods; he's not sure why she's here.

"Here's your next client's file. They are doing an intake. You have over half an hour."

"Great."

Harry is now standing in front of her. "You work here?"

Y/N nods.

"You're a therapist." He states.

Y/N can clearly see he wants to talk and knows a better place to do it than their waiting room filled with waiting people.

"Why don't we talk in my office?" Harry nods, ready to follow her, but before he can, she turns to the desk once more, "Hold my calls, please, Alycia."

"Of course."

"Follow me, Harry."

They walk in silence as they pass Dr. Hernandez's door. She opens her door, allowing him to enter first. It feels bright and full of color; the wall's painting is pale green and hanging on the walls; she has lots of scenic photos and drawings. The chairs are nice, a red velvet couch pushed against a wall, her desk is not that big, he notices. It lacks pictures compared to Dr. Hernandez. Her degrees are placed on a bookshelf. She has it color-coded in colors of the rainbow, which is quite impressive.

"Have a seat." She offers all the open space.

Y/N takes a seat on the couch, and he follows.

Harry feels underdressed next to Y/N, and that has never happened before; he is always the one showing up in extravagant and overpriced suits.

"You work here." He waits for her to confirm.

"Yes, I'm a therapist here. Dr. Hernandez was my advisor during my undergrad. She knew what I wanted to accomplish for my career. They offered me a job, and I accepted. They have been supportive of obtaining my doctorate."

Harry is very impressed, "Congrats, that's wonderful."

"Thank you."

They both quiet down, not sure who should go first. Harry is about to start when Y/N begins to speak.

"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry. I went about addressing it wrong, and I never meant to upset you. I apologize." Y/N keeps her eyes on his wanting him to see how sincere she was.

"No need, I've taken a week to reflect on what a jerk I was. Having Josie give me the silent treatment for a week was torture." Harry confesses, scratching his neck to avoid reaching for her hand.

"Is she okay? Harry, that's a long time." Y/N's voice laced with concern.

"I'm sure she's chatting Dr. Hernandez ear off as we speak."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I brought it on myself by taking her away from one thing she truly loves."

Y/N nods, not able to disagree with Harry. "Yeah, I understand."

"Is that how you know she needed therapy because you're a therapist?"

"Yes. I saw the signs, but I mostly observe and never address it, but from the conversations I've had with Josie and the relationship we built, I felt like I owed it to her to get her help." Y/N pauses, debating if she was ready to share more of herself with Harry. "It was also that I saw myself in her, it felt familiar, and I wanted to help."

"I'm going to tell you a story."

Harry can tell it's not going to be an easy one as she's not staring at her hand, focused on the lone ring she has on her index finger. "You don't have to."

She reaches over and squeezes his hand once to let him know it's alright. "I was nine years old when I walked in on my dad cheating on my mom with his secretary. I told her as soon as she came home and she didn't believe me. She went as far as calling me an attention seeker. By the end of the week, we were living with my grandparents. I didn't see my parents again after that day. At age ten, I started visiting the counselor because I blamed myself for my sister no longer having parents. I wouldn't even allow myself to talk to her; I was just consumed by guilt taking all the blame when I shouldn't have."

Y/N knows Harry's gaze is on her, but she doesn't dare look up, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. "Don't think I've stopped since then. A big reason I'm doing the job I am now is for those who helped me along the way.

"Y/N,"

"Harry, no pity comments. I've made my peace, sure the trauma never truly leaves, but you overcome it."

"Thank you for sharing that with me, I know I don't deserve it, but I'm grateful."

Harry needs to apologize; he wants to leave here today knowing he didn't lose a friend.

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Harry, you-"

"No, I really am; I didn't mean a word I said. I know you're more than a coach, and you're not lousy; you're brilliant. You're my daughter's favorite person. I didn't mean it, and I hope you'll forgive me."

"I accept your apology, that was a bad day for all of us, but I can move past it if you can?"

"Yes, I would love that. I feel awful you're someone I trust, a friend. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

"Thank you, Harry."

"One more thing."

"Yes, go on."

"Can you recommend a therapist for me? Talking with Dr. Hernandez was amazing, and I think I would benefit from it."

Y/N doesn't make any comment, just nods. "I'll send you a list of therapists but do know you'll always find a friend in me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or someone to watch over you as you get drunk."

Harry chuckles; he'll keep that in mind for future references.  

"There's a knock on the door. "Yes, come in."

"Sylvia is ready for Mr. Styles."

"Thank you, Alycia. I'll walk him to her office."

Y/N stands, and Harry follows close behind as they make their way out to reunite him with his daughter.

"Y/N, can I hug you?"

She bits back the smile threatening to overtake her face at how small he looks asking. "Yes, that's fine."

Harry doesn't wait for another second; he throws his arms around her holding her tight. He hadn't been lucky enough to hug her before, but now doing it, he doesn't think he ever wants to go a day without one.

They walk out, both having heated faces due to enjoying being the embrace of one another. She walks them a few doors down and knocks, waiting for the go-ahead to go in.

"One last thing," She says, pointing a hand to his chest."

"Name it." He'd give her anything.

"Jo comes back to the team. You bring her to the game this weekend."

"Yes, of course."

She beams at his response, "Great."

Y/N peeks her head in, locking eyes with Sylvia. "Alright, to come in, Doc?"

"Of course, Josephine, this is my good friend and coworker Y/N."

Josie turns and smiles wide, jumping up when she sees her walk in with Harry right behind her.

"Hiya, champ. Seems to have found your dad lost out here."

Josie giggles and runs into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"I've missed you."

"As have I little miss sunshine. I missed my fastest midfielder at the game. All the girls missed you."

"Awe, I'll be back," she looks up at Harry with a look of worry on her face. "Right, daddy?"

"Yes, darling. Got a game at ten am on Saturday."

Josie lets out a loud shriek.

"So this is Coach." Dr. Hernandez says with a knowing smile.

"Yes, she's great," Josie responds, holding tight to Y/N's hand.  

Y/N chuckles. "How about you and I go draw a picture to add to my office while Dr. Hernandez and your dad tie up some little things."

"Okay."

They walk out hand in hand as Josie catches up with Y/N on everything she did on her week away. Not shying away from how she handled the now resolved issue with her father.

"You don't look as blue," Dr. Hernandez comments."

"Sorry," Harry blushes, having been lost in thought on the two girls who just walked out.

"Mr. Styles, your aura is soft, kinder."

"Yeah, I think she has that effect on people."

"You might be right."

Things are finally looking up, and Harry looks forward to rebuilding his relationship with Josie and hopefully creating one with Y/N besides their parent and coach relationship.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's been two weeks since Josie came back to play, and thing's have been going smoothly. Harry begins helping out with cleaning up at the end of practice to talk to Y/N more. He asks more about her job and how the doctorate is going. He worries she might be juggling too much, but she assures him she has a smooth dynamic of handling everything.

It's a cold Saturday morning, it's the quarter-finals, and the nerves are high for everyone. The girls finished on top of the leaderboard, but the league likes doing a championship game to honor all the hard-working teams.

Y/N is quieter this morning, and all the parents have picked up on it. They are used to her light and kind nature, wishing everyone a good day and accepting treats. Cynthia's mom is in charge of snacks for today and offered her a muffin one she never says no to except today.

It immediately puts everyone in a skittish mood.

Truthfully, Y/N isn't here for the parents, but the girls and the team they are against is the dirtiest. Most girls are nine and will be moving up a division, but Coach Roman teaches them that dirty plays will make them win. Her girls are strong players, but she reminds them of the importance of sportsmanship and playing with heart.

Y/N even makes sure she cannot be approached by anyone, only the girls and Kate, as they start to warm up on the field. The girls do their drills as Kate stands quietly by your side.

"Someone can't take their eye off of you."

"Stop."

"It's true though, he was pouting when he saw you on the field clipboard in hand," Kate says with a giggle.

"Shush."

"Going to ask him on a date?"

"Only if we win."

That shuts Kate up, "You're joking."

Y/N slowly shakes her no, "Girls, two lines, run through side net shots."

Kate and Y/n stand back to back as the girls pass, and they kick it-bag, giving them only a second to angle themselves. This is one of their favorite warm-ups, and she's glad she can still talk with Kate during it.

"What made you finally decide?"

"I realized he's not going to make a move because one he fears I'm going to reject him and two it goes horribly wrong, then he might never show his face around here again. I'm positive he likes me."

Kate nods, "he likes you, adores you. He's got it bad." She's quiet for a moment before starting up again, "I know we're going to win, so how are you going to ask him? I'm going to need all the details."

"I'm going to go up to him and ask him out to dinner, simple as that."

Y/N changes the drill marking the end of their conversation; she leads the girl into two groups of keep away while Kate takes Dawson, their goalie, to keep warming up.

Before they know it, captains and coaches are called. Coach Roman is smug and annoying as he shakes her hand. The girls pick heads and win the coin toss. They choose to have kickoff; Roman's girls decide to stay on their side, meaning everything to their advantage as they have the slight uphill to battle through for the first half, and the second will use it to their advantage.

The starting lineup is quick to attack, and in a matter of minutes, Juliet scored a goal from a pass from Imelda. The girls' cheer, happy to be leading the game. They know better than getting cocky; if anything, this intensifies their speed at playing. The next twelve minutes of the second quarter are stressful as Josie makes it a two-zero lead from a corner kick. Just as half-time is to be called, a midfield slips through the defense from the back and gets it over Dawson's head, and just like that, the referee calls it.

Y/N can't remember the last time she was this anxious. It's foul after foul, and she's had enough of it.

Kate is quick to round up the girl, not wanting to monopolize all their time, wanting them to relax mostly to stay in a positive mindset. Kate leads the talk letting them know they are doing well and that the left-wing is getting beat, but having the downhill in favor should help her out now. Y/N went around making sure each girl was safe and had no injuries, only grass stains on their knees.

"Be aggressive, but don't stoop to their level."

"Yes, coach" is heard in unison as a response.

Each girl goes to their bags and starts to stretch, knowing they can't approach their parents because it's easy for them to influence them on how they are playing. Everyone respects it, but there are a few times a parent comes by.

She decides to take a walk, getting away from the girls. She just wants to relax and not be as tense for the end of the half.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears someone call her name.

"Fuck, Harry. You scared me."

He raises his hands up in defense. "Sorry, I was just checking if you are okay?"

Y/N doesn't hesitate to rush into his arms, tucking her head into his neck. Harry, without hesitation, wraps his arms around her. He runs his hand down her back softly, hoping she finds it comforting.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." She holds him tighter, so he goes on. "You're okay, yeah, doing a good job. Girls are playing well. Taking care of each other, just like you taught them."

She slowly nods her head, she's calmed down, and Y/n thinks it might have to do with his soothing heartbeat.

"Deep breaths, love, Come on with me."

Harry breathes in and out until she does it with him. He feels her relax and tries to pull her back, but her grip is tight.

"It's okay, not going anywhere."

"Sorry," she whispers.

"No need to apologize, love."

"I just don't like when coaches teach their girls to play dirty; I hate injuries. They're just kids." She whispers, looking up at him now.

"They'll be okay."

"You don't know that. We have two quarters left."

Harry knows he won't be able to comfort her like he wants when he hears the ref blow the whistle. "Look, the girls are about to start, and they need a coach."

She nods, knowing she has to go back to her coaching mentality. The girls are her main priority; she can do this.

"Thank you, Harry."

"I'm here for you, whenever you need."

Y/N jogs over, nudging Kate playfully, who is shooting her suggestive eyes. They let the captain lead the huddle and listen intently before wishing them luck. The parents clap as the team cheer echoes out.

Only twenty-four minutes left, they can do this. She knows they can. The referees assured them he'd get a better eye on them, not wanting anyone to be carried off injured. Y/N refuses to take her eyes off of her girls. Constantly reminding them to keep communicating with each other when she hears them go quiet.

The last two quarters pass much quicker than the first; the girls play with more fleeting touches, not allowing the other team to put pressure on them.

Just when number eleven is close to getting the ball, Leslie switches the ball over to the other side; Y/N is shocked at how well Josie brings it down, she constantly struggles with this at practice, but she knows that Josie has been putting in the extra work.

She can hear Harry clapping and cheering on Josie; Y/N shouts her praise, letting her know she's doing well. Andie gets a breakaway, and it's a one-be-one versus the goalie. She fakes right as it goes left, touching it in softly, and in it goes. Y/N can't stop cheering, feeling the buzz all over her body. She's incredibly proud of the hard work they have all put in. Just as they reset and the ball is passed back, the whistle is blown and signifies they have won.

Golden Sparks are moving on to the semi-finals.

The girls are quick to jog in and tackle Y/N and Kate in a massive group hug. Y/N is going to be basking in this happiness for the entire weekend.

Y/N sends all the girls to their parents, letting them know she was okay doing the clean-up on her own. Kate stuck around, as did Juliet, because she wanted to have breakfast with Y/N telling her parents they were not welcome to come even though the invitation was extended to them. Clara and Xavier did not take any offense, happy to go back home and nap the morning away if their young toddler would let them.

Y/N approaches Harry after she gets everything settled in her trunk. He smiles at her, walking over helping her close her trunk as they wave by to Kate together. Josie and Juliet hang out in Harry's car, going through his Spotify playlist as they skip song after song, not being a fan of his taste.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, "I've been working up the courage to do this."

"Do what lovely? Harry asks curiously.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Y/N feels her stomach tense up as she waits for a response; by his wide eyes, she can tell he wasn't expecting her to say that, but he plays it off well.

"Asking me on a date?"

"I am."

Harry agrees, "I'd like that."

"Does Friday work for you?"

"Yes, great."

"I'll uh, pick you up."

"Proper wine and dine, love." She chuckles because, yeah, she wants to swoop Harry off his feet just like he did to her without even trying.

Y/N gives him a hug holding him tight for a few seconds, smiling up at Harry feeling giddy that they had a date planned after two months of flirting that they weren't sure would go anywhere.

"Juliet, we got to go."

"Okay, auntie." Juliet slams the door just a tad bit too hard, making Y/N mutter an apology.

"Bye, Harry."

"Bye, love."

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Friday had arrived quicker than Harry expected. He got to see Y/N during the week because of the practices, and he was texting her every chance he got. He wanted to let her know he liked her and he was serious about pursuing her. It's been a long time since his last relationship, but call him cliche with Y/N; it all feels right. That everything is falling into place like it should.

Now here he sat on his couch waiting for Y/N to arrive; he had changed his outfit three times because she told him casually, and he couldn't settle on a look. It wasn't until he put on a plain black tee that hugged her arms just right and white linen cropped pleated trousers that he felt ready. He even broke out his new white Vans for the evening.

Harry was about to check the time when there was a knock on his door. He couldn't tame the butterflies in his stomach if he tried. As he opened the door, Harry let out a laugh because there stood the most beautiful woman holding up a bouquet of red lilies. He's falling in love, and there's no stopping him; he just hopes she's there to catch him.

"Hi Harry, these are for you."

Harry laughs, not knowing how to react to receiving flowers, "I'm speechless." He accepts them and gently cradles them in his arms. "I'll put them in water, and we can go."

"Sure, no rush." Y/N admires his living room, never having stepped foot in his house until today, and it's small but cozy. There are photos of all his family framed on the wall to her right. He has a small bookshelf that holds more vinyl than books.

Harry comes back and sees her staring at a photo of Josie on her first birthday covered in cake from head to toe. "I'd give you a tour, but I'm actually really excited to start our date."

"I'm sure they'll be another time."

She walks down his driveway to her parked car allowing Harry to have a moment to look her over. She's dressed casually; she has high-waisted jeans that show off all her beautiful assets. Her lavender cardigan looks warm; she left it open to expose a white plain top. It is genuinely a casual look, but she makes it look over the top.

"You look beautiful," Harry tells her as she stands by her car door.

Y/N does a small twirl before jokingly curtsying for him. "Glad you think so. Those trousers are doing your thighs justice if I do say so myself."

Harry giggles loving how easy she compliments him.

"Right, I wanted to take you mini golfing but considering it's a Friday and summer, it's going to be packed with teenagers."

"Oh, you definitely saved us."

"Yeah, I thought we could take Josie during the middle of the week as a date. I bet she'd enjoy it. Although, I never keep track of points because I'm too competitive."

The date has barely started, and she's left him speechless twice.

"You want Josie to join us on dates." Harry states.

She looks over at him quickly as they are stopped at a red light, "Of course, Harry. She's your daughter; I don't expect you to find a sitter every time we want to go out together. Isn't it like if you're dating me, you're dating my daughter."

He chuckles, "but not on our first date."

"Honestly, I think we were long overdue for a date."

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you out all summer long," He confesses.

Y/N gasps in shock as she signals a right turn, briefly checking her blind spot before making the turn. "Yet, it only happened with a few weeks left in summer."

"Yeah, but we got here, didn't we?"

Y/N leans over and places her hand on his thigh, squeezing him twice, "Yes, we did."

Harry sees her turn into a diner that looks a bit run down; he doesn't dare question her because she seems so excited as she gets out of the car and waits for him by the trunk. Y/N extends her hand for him to take, and he does without a hint of hesitation.

Y/n leads the way, but he hurries to open the door for her. She thanks him with a squeeze of the hand. Walking in, he was startled at how Harry felt he was transported to a seventies diner. The booths were red and looked sparklingly new. To the left was a jukebox that he was desperate to have a look at, maybe dedicate a song to Y/N. The floor's black and white pattern shined at him as the waiter wore a nice button-up with a black bow tie, a red and white striped apron thrown over, his name tag said James.

"After you," Y/N said, wanting Harry to pick a booth side; he knew better than to fight her and slid in on the left side. Harry is surprised when Y/N slides in right next to him. "This alright, Harry?"

Harry grins at her, dimples on display just for her. "Yeah, just caught me by surprise."

She opens up the menu sliding the other one away so they could share. Y/N points to some of her favorite items on the menu and cringing at ones she disliked.

"You know the menu well." Harry states before deciding on the turkey burger she had raved about.

Y/N chuckles, closing the menu. "My grandparents brought Clara and me here every other weekend, never letting us eat out. My grandmother was against the food industry, and she knew the owner here prided themselves on giving back to the community. Always holding fundraisers or donating to local teams."

"Fast food industry isn't the best, but I thank them because I can get Thai food delivered to my house."

Y/N doesn't have time to respond, as their waiter comes back with two glasses of water. "I'll have the turkey burger, no onions, and fries instead of the salad."

Harry didn't know she didn't like onions but made a mental note on it, "I'll also have the turkey burger and the side salad. Oh, and the couple milkshake, we agreed on strawberry, right?"

Y/N nods her head, "I had forgotten about that, but yeah, two straws, please."

"I'll have that out shortly," James tells them, walking away.

"The shake is too hard to die for; it has whipped cream on the top and bottom. It's freshly made, nothing like the canned kind. It's large! Made to be shared, thank goodness you remembered."

Harry shrugs, "That's what I'm here for."

Harry loves how easy conversation flows with Y/N. He doesn't have to force himself to say try to think of a topic or question to ask her. She's very open in sharing herself with him, he's never had someone drop down all his walls this quick, yet again, he might have dropped back ages ago.

Y/N talks to him about his grandparents and how adoring they were. That they supported all of her dreams, even the ones that we're crazy, like wanting to become a witch because she wanted to make flowers grow from her palm. Harry shared how the first year of Josie being born, he felt like he never slept, always nervous something would happen. He also tells her how living in Georgia is something he didn't enjoy, but he also didn't want to bounce Josie around from school to school. It was only date one, but Harry was excited for what the future had in store for them.

When James came back to drop off their burgers and shake. Y/N didn't even hear him too busy laughing at a dumb joke Harry had told her; he can't even remember the joke he made because her laugh is music to his ears.

Y/N waits for Harry to take his first bite, and he decides to tease her just a bit. He slowly raises the burgers stopping an inch from his lips; Y/N sits there, chin perched on her hand as if she has all the time in the world to wait for him.

"I'm in no rush, casanova." She smirks, not falling for his game.

Harry knows eating burgers is nothing sexual, so he decides to go all in. He moans at the first taste he gets, it's juicy, and the pepper jack cheese is perfectly melted, adding an excellent combination.

"Love, that is an amazing burger."

"I know." She's already gotten a bite in. She eyes his salad plate for a moment before looking back over to her fries.

"You want some, sweetheart?"

Y/N giggles at his comment, "God no. I eat healthy enough already, thanks to Juliet, but can I have some of your ranch?"

Harry understands eating healthy, he does it for Josie, and since Y/N is constantly around Juliet, it makes sense she would change her eating habits but does know as an aunt she's easier to give in to desserts. Not that he minds; he needs more sweetness in his life.

"Sure, you eat it with your fries. That's interesting."

She shrugs, "I don't think it is. Everyone in my family eats fries with ranch, including Josie."

"If Josie starts eating fries like that, I will know who to blame."

Y/N bumps her shoulder with Harry, "Haha."

They eat most of their meal in silence. Occasionally, Harry steals a few fries causing Y/N to chuckle before turning her plate, so Harry didn't have to reach over her. She doesn't chastise him about not ordering fries if he wanted some. Harry likes how much he enjoys spending time with Y/N.

"What's one thing you hope to accomplish within the next five years?" Harry asks as Y/N passes the shake back to him and takes a generous drink. They had finished eating, and now we're trying to finish the shake that Harry thought was smaller than what had arrived at their table.

"My usual answer is a doctor, but what's happening next year, so, give me a moment," Harry waits for her, watching as she plays with the rings on his right hand. They went front sitting thigh to thigh to Y/N, hooking her leg to Harry's, causing her to lean more on him. Harry liked it, and if he wasn't somewhere public or their first date, he would have pulled her into his lap. He took a chance and set his hand on top of her thigh; to his surprise, she placed her hand on top of his, intertwining their fingers together.

Every little thing she did made him fall deeper and deeper.

"I want to run a marathon."

"A marathon? I didn't know you were a runner."

"Oh yeah, last December I ran a half marathon, and it was hell, but once the runner high hits, it's the most wonderful thing."

"Why not do it now?"

Y/N frowns, taking off the rose ring from his finger and slipping it on one of hers. "The training is rigorous. You have to work up the miles constantly and eat better. I would rather enjoy the upcoming year."

"Well, when it happens, I can't wait to be there cheering you on." He tells her with a hopeful look.

"I'll hold you to that, Styles."

Harry smiles, hoping she does, hoping he gets to spend many more years to come with her in his life.

Y/N excuses herself to the restroom, and Harry decides it's a good time to pick a song. He approached it grateful to half a quarter hanging in his pocket. The jukebox looked old but well kept. Harry saw over 100 songs but searched for a specific one in mind; he was thrilled to see it was on there. Just as it started to play, he saw Y/N walking back towards him, so he hurried over to slide into their seat.

"You know, you're kind of clumsy."

"Am not," he denies.

"Oh, sorry, so it wasn't you who bumped into the table as you made your way to sit down."

Harry decides not to respond, knowing she saw him embarrass himself, and instead starts singing along to the song. The smile on her face widens as she hears how good he is.

"I'm not surprised you picked Fleetwood Mac, "songbird" is a sweet song."

"Am I that predictable?"

She nods, "Jo always sings one of their songs; at the sleepover, she said that's what you played most, so I taught her my favorites."

"Is it you I have to thank for the ABBA and Selena obsession?" He playfully glares.

"Guilty. She needed to brighten her horizon."

"Josie doesn't even know Spanish."

"Ah, but she will now."

"You're weird." Y/N shrugs in acceptance, knowing he meant it as a compliment.

As Harry's song comes to an end, she jumps up and rushes over to pick her song. She doesn't shy away about dancing her way back over to him. She mouths along to "The Name of the Game," moving her body to the beat.

"The name of the game?"

"You know it, darling."

Harry feels the heat in his cheek and hopes Y/N won't bring it up. She gets him flustered in just a few words.

"You know this is about falling in love with your therapist," he states

"Harry!" She exclaims. "No, the song is open to interpretation."

"What do you think?"

"I think it's about the early days of your relationship and wondering if it'll be something more or not. Also, that bridge, I mean come on."

Harry loves how passionate she is about the song. He loves that she's not afraid to share her thoughts with him, and he realizes he's doing the same. He can't help himself and leans in to press a kiss to her temple, throwing an arm over her shoulder to pull her close as they sit there listening to the song to the end.

"Ready to go, angel?" He feels her mutter a small okay, as she gets up, offering her hand to him as he's at the edge. "Let's go take care of the bill."

Y/N chuckles, "Already did, Harry."

Harry pulls her back, turning her to face him, "When?"

"The restroom, oldest trick in the book."

"Sneaky, sneaky."

Y/N, let's Harry lead the way out this time; they say goodnight to the staff and hurry over to the car. He didn't bring a coat, and he still wasn't used to how cold California got at night. He thought summer meant warm nights with a gentle breeze, not chilly air. Y/N seemed to not mind it, not hurrying after Harry as he jumped into the passenger seat.

"Afraid of the cold, H."

"Yes, why is it so bad?"

"Didn't you get snow in December up in the peach state? Also, aren't you from where the sun never shines?" Y/N teases him as she settles in her seat, turning on the heater for Harry.

"We visit occasionally; I can handle the weather with the appropriate clothing." He pouts at her, rubbing his arms.

Y/N turns around, reaching for something in the backseat before settling in again and settling it in Harry's lap. She doesn't say anything besides dazzling him with a smile and pulling out of the parking lot.

Harry slips it on over his head and finds it fits him loose, "I hope you know you might not be getting this back."

Y/N turns to look at him as he drags the collar up to his cheek to feel the softness it still holds, "That's my coach sweater. Kate got me a few, all in different sizes; I wear this one because I like baggy hoodies."

Harry smiles at her, he knows everything they have done has been in reverse, but he loves how confident she is. He knows she's been hurt before in the past from what she's shared but not once has he felt her trying to hide or push him away. He wants to tell her everything he's kept locked inside, he's never felt like this before, and he hopes the feeling never goes away.

"You know, if people see you wearing the sweater, they'll start talking."

Harry turns in his seat, facing her as the street lights shine on her face. "Let them. I've got no shame in people thinking you're my girlfriend. If I'm lucky enough, it might come true."

Y/N shakes her head, thankful for the darkness because he won't be able to see how her face heated up. The drive to his house was short, he wished for the night to never end, but even he knows he's not that lucky. Harry lets her know it's okay to pull into his driveway as he had his car parked on the curb right.

"I'll walk you to your door." Harry holds her hand the short way to where they will soon have to say goodnight.

Harry doesn't try getting his keys out; instead, he turns her to look at him, wanting to remember her in this moment forever. His last first date. Call him crazy, but there was no one else for him. It was always Y/N; he just had to find her.

"I had the best night with you," Harry whispers, pulling her close by her waist. She rests her hands on his shoulders and nods. "We're doing this again, Y/N."

"I got a second date." She cheers.

Harry leans his forehead against hers, smirking as he hears her breath hitch. "You get a second, a third, a fifth, a one hundred. You name it, you got it."

He's so close to closing the gap between them, feeling their breaths mix together.

"That means you'd be stuck with me for a long time."

"I want to say forever, but that might be too soon."

"Our secret." She whispers, her eyes dancing from his lips to his eyes. "Please kiss me, H."

Harry knows he won't ever be able to deny anything she wishes in life, mainly because he was close to losing her once before.

His lips moved slowly, savoring the feel of her against him as he pulled her close, letting himself rest against the door. He felt the butterflies in his stomach going crazy as she moved her hands to his hair, tugging on the small curls. Harry pulled back in fear of letting out a moan at the intense pleasure she made him feel.

Y/N pulls back breathless but presses her lips to his cheek, not wanting him to touch to go far. "Will you give me another, darlin'," Y/N nods a starry look in her eye as she lets Harry swoop in and take control of the kiss. This second kiss is faster and more passionate. Harry was holding back before, but now he wants her to feel everything he makes her feel. Harry wants her to know he gives her goosebumps and fireworks.

"I could kiss you all night." Harry trails kisses on her cheeks, loving how lost in his touch she is.

"Too bad, I need to rest. I've got to coach a game tomorrow."

That statement is enough to bring Harry back to reality, where he has to wake up extra earlier to pick up his daughter then drive her to the game. They have to say goodnight, even though neither one of them wants to.

Harry pulls away, dropping his hands from her waist; Y/N follows by letting her hands slide down from his hair.

"See you tomorrow?" He winks at Y/N as she walks backward, creating distance between them.

"Of course, we got a semi-final to win."

Y/N walks to her car, touches her lips feeling the lingering heat on when he kisses her breathless. She is turning on her car, making sure her headlights are on, when she sees Harry rushing down the steps toward her, the smile on his face contagious.

"What is it?" She asks as she rolls down her window, knowing she wouldn't leave soon if she got out.

"A kiss for the road."

Y/N couldn't dare deny him a kiss, especially when she was craving more already.

Harry slipped a hand the back of her neck, fearing she'd pull back sooner than he wanted. Her lips tasted like cherry; he figures she put on chapstick. This was only their third kiss, but it had only gotten better. Harry swiped his tongue against her bottom lip, begging for entrance, but she pulled back, letting out a breathless laugh at the pout he made, no longer able to feel her against him. She leans and pecks at the corner of his mouth, whispering a goodnight as he steps back, letting her drive away.

It may be too soon, but he might just love her.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

The semi-final had to be one of the most intense games she had seen the young girls play. It was goal after goal from each team, neither one backing down on the pressure.

In the second half, she told them she was proud that if they kept playing how they were, this game was theirs. Going in a 3-2 lead, the girls stood shocked when, in a corner kick, the other team had been able to get it into the back of the net and over Dawson.

Kate thought this might knock them down, but it sparked something in all of them. All the parents stood up from their seats when they saw them dance around the opposing team switching the ball side to side. Honestly, it was something far advanced than they've ever presented.

Y/N was in awe; their communication was at a new level. There wasn't much time left, and Kate feared penalty kicks even if they were prepared for it.

Lani had control of the middle field; she just needed to get it past their defense. Juliet had defenders marking her tight, no way able to make a run towards the goal. If they played it right, Juliet would draw them out, leaving a gap allowing them to make a run for it. That's all they needed for a foot race.

Kate was sitting on the bench holding tightly onto Sarah Beth's hand, not able to take the pressure; then again, no one could take it. It all happened so fast; one moment, Juliet ran towards the midfield, two defenses following close behind when she got a touch on the ball, letting her send it back where it came from, then straight down the line. Jo and Franny ran down both sides too far ahead to be stopped; Jo was able to get a touch on it, crossing it straight to Franny, who shot at goal but was stopped by the opposing goalie. Jo was there for the rebound striking it in.

Goal!

She did it. She made the final goal.

Jo was quick to be bombarded by the rest of her teammates hugging her as they ushered back for the kick-off. Y/N wished she could run in there and hug her, telling her how proud she was, but for now, shouting 'great job' and 'stay focused' would be enough. Y/N looked over at Harry, who was wiping his tears still yelling proudly for his daughter, and like he knew she was staring, he looked over at her giving her the cheesiest grin she had ever seen on him.

The game finished, and the Golden Sparks won another game, taking them to the final the following week. Y/N congratulated the girls telling how proud she was of them and the hard work they put in each game. She told them she can't wait to see them on Monday and to have a wonderful weekend. Then told their parents to spoil them a little extra this weekend that earned a cheer from all the girls.

As Y/N was packing up her things, Kate and a few other parents already helped carry everything over to Kate's car. She felt arms around her waist.

"Hey, quickster," Y/N says, turning, allowing her niece to hug her properly.

"The girls are going to get ice cream if you want to go with them; Emilia's mom will text you the address," Juliet asks, but Y/N has spent enough time with them and wants to let them be.

"Thanks for the offer, but you have a good time. I'll let your mom know Emilia's mom is dropping you off." Juliet nods, giving her one more hug before hurrying over to Emilia's car, where Jo also happens to get in. She sends them away; she notices Harry a few vehicles over putting a bag away when she reaches her car.

Something comes over her because the next thing she knows, she's calling his name and standing next to him.

"Hiya, love. Doing alright?"

Y/N tucks her hair behind her ear and nods, "Yes, all good. That was an exciting game."

"Good to hear."

"You doing anything now?" She asks, peeking over her shoulder, seeing Kate has her eye on her, but she just rolls her eyes before looking back at Harry.

"Going home, my munchkin left me."

"Well, there's a great Mexican restaurant here if you'd like to join me for lunch."

Harry smirks, "Asking me on another date, are you?"

"I have to when I know you're still a bit nervous about making a move," she confesses bashfully.

Harry's not surprised she can so easily read him; all the walls he had left are gone.

"Then I'd be honored."

"Great, uh good. Just follow me then."

Arriving, they were seated quickly. A plate of chips and salsa were delivered shortly, Harry asked for guacamole. Y/N didn't argue, knowing for many people that was one of their favorite dips. Personally, she wasn't a fan. She didn't like the texture. Most people were shocked at the revelation, and no doubt Harry would as well.

"What's good here, love?" Harry says, leaning into her side to peek at her menu instead of opening his.

"Hmmm...honestly everything. I always get something different when I come, but you can never go wrong with tacos."

"Alright, you want to share?"

Y/N shrugs, "We can. I'm not picky, but I am starving."

"Have some guacamole; you haven't gotten any."

"No thanks, I'm not a fan."

"You serious?"

"Yes, Harry."

"That's strange."

"What is?" She sets the menu down to look over at him.

"I mean, it's fine. At least you'll never buy avocado toast for like six dollars." He chuckles, and Y/N can't help but join in.

Their waiter comes over, "Estan listos para ordenar?"

Y/N nods, "Hola, si. Dos tacos de asada, y dos de al pastor. Por favor."

Harry is staring intently at his menu, not speaking a word as they wait for his order. "You alright, darling?"

He leans close to whisper in her ear, not able to focus on the term of endearment, "Can you order for me?"

She doesn't tease him, just smiles, "Y una orden de enchiladas rojas."

Their waiter smiles and walks away, promising to be back shortly.

"Have we discussed you speaking a second language?"

"I thought we had." She brushes it off like it's no big deal.

"I don't think so."

"Okay, I took YMCA classes from age seven and did so all the way until college. Even have a minor in Spanish."

"Impressive."

"Sorry if you felt uncomfortable. They speak English as well but primarily speak Spanish."

Harry shakes his head, not wanting her to feel bad, "No, I was just caught by surprise. Hearing you speak Spanish was a turn-on."

"I'll keep that in mind." She winks at him, glad to see the blush spread on his cheeks.

Lunch went great, just as she had expected. They shared food, Y/N enjoying Harry's enchiladas much more than the tacos. Harry happily ate the three tacos she left after eating most of his plate, not that he minded. Y/N appreciated how open he was in sharing food. She had always done it growing up, so Harry allowing her to do the same made her find more profound comfort in their already growing relationship.

Harry beat her to the bill, and she let him take it not without letting him know she'd get it the next time. They stood outside together, allowing the nice breeze to brush over then neither one was eager to say goodbye. They knew they would see each other soon, but with the growing affection, they just craved more time together, more time getting to know each other.

Harry had her pressed against her car door, hidden from the view of others. "We should do this again."

"We should," she agrees.

"My house Thursday night, Josie is going out with Sarah and Mitch to watch a movie, most likely do a sleepover as well."

"I'd like that. We'll see if you can maybe have a sleepover yourself."

Harry smirks, liking the idea of her spending the night with him, not caring that they both had work the following day.

"Are you going to kiss me?"

"I want to."

"You have my full permission," she teases.

Y/N met him halfway and pressed, letting him press his lips against hers. As she kissed him back, she wanted him to feel how much she liked him, how fast she was falling for him. His hands wrapped around her waist tight; it gave her comfort. She knew he wouldn't let go until she asked.

She felt her beat just a little fast as she left out a soft moan; she shifted closer as his mouth opened over hers and his tongue slid between her lips.

He was in control of her. She did not mind one bit.

With a sigh, she tilted her so he could kiss her more deeply; he didn't need any encouragement to do as she wished. His kiss became more intense, she could feel the burn between her thighs, wanting more, needing more, and that's when she knew she had to pull back, but he beat her to it.

Harry pulls back, staying close enough that he could steal another kiss, "God, I can't get enough of you."

He surprised her, how open he became with her feelings, she hadn't asked how his therapy was going, but god, it must have been doing wonders if she could feel every emotion that was going through him as she gazed into his loving emerald eyes.

"I'll see you soon, darling." Harry took that as his cue to let his hold of her go.

"Not soon enough," he whispers.

"You'll see me Monday," she reminds him.

"Can I steal a kiss then?"

"If you're lucky."

Y/N knew it wouldn't be long until she could say she was in love with Harry.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry never thought he'd be the type of guy to be excited over a simple call or text reading: 'I'm thinking of you." She's made him feel good and confident in their relationship. He sent flowers to her work that led to her sending him a selfie with her face buried in the flowers.

At practice, he knew she couldn't pay attention to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't. He saw how fast she moved with the ball showing the girls a new drill, then doing it again slowed down, making sure they all understood. He admired how she never got frustrated. He knew how hard it was to handle one eight-year-old, but sixteen was impressive. He'd sit there for hours just admiring her if he could.

On Tuesday, he called Alycia, the receptionist at Y/N's office, asking for her lunch schedule, wanting to drop by and leave her lunch. She let him know she was taking it later that day at 2 since she was so busy. He decided that a BLT sandwich from two blocks away would do as she had once expressed to him how well done they were, promising to take him one day.

He walked in, noting how few people were in the waiting room, but eagerly stepped up to the counter. Alycia greeted him kindly, now seeing him more than once when he took Josie to her first session. Josie showed improvement, and each time he brought her, he made sure to leave a note behind for Y/N.

As he told Alycia to give you the food, there Y/N came walking down the hall. He was surprised at how casual, yet professional her look was; she had a silky oversized button shirt tucked into her linen pants, wearing her brown loafers he knew she didn't use often.

"Alycia, can you update this- Harry!" Y/N looks shocked to see him standing in front of her, not at all expecting to see him; she just planned on calling him later at night like they had been doing the past few days.

"Hi, love. Brought you lunch." He smiled sheepishly, holding up the bag.

She laughs, handing over the file to Alycia then stepping towards Harry to wrap him in a hug she has been wanting to do since she laid eyes on him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight against him, taking in her sweet honey scent. Before pulling back, remembering, after all, she was at work.

"I'm starving, thank you, darling. I was about to head out." Y/N rubs her stomach jokingly.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. See you tomorrow."

Y/N pouts, "You're not staying?"

"Well, I didn't want to assume."

"Assume, please." She laughs at the smile she gets Harry to give her.

They excuse themselves from Alycia and walk towards her office. They take a seat on her couch as Harry hands her the sandwich. They ate together, and for the forty-five minutes they had together, it was perfect; they shared stories of how their week was going at how Josie was anxious for the game and just promising to see each other soon. Harry got a kiss goodbye and was glad he would be seeing her the following day.

It's Thursday night, and Harry will finally get her for more than half an hour. Josie left a few hours ago to watch the movie with Sarah and Mitch, her sleepover bag on her shoulder not at all a surprise for Harry. He glanced around his house and knew it wasn't the cleanest. Josie always had some stuff scattered around the house, but he knew it just gave the house character.

"Hey, I'm outside," Y/N tells him on the phone before hanging up.

He rushes to the door, swinging it open to see her shut the door with her hip before making her way to him, a grin on her face as she carries a pink box in one hand and what he assumes to be food in another.

"You said you don't always like having to cook, and I know you said you love Thai." She giggles as he reaches to take the bag out of her hand, letting the smell take over.

"This is sweet, love. I appreciate it."

"Well, of course," she shrugs off his compliment. "I wanted to do something nice."

"I feel like I should be the one doing sweet things for you," he confesses as he guides her to his kitchen.

Y/N frowns, "Darling, we can move past that."

"Can we?"

"Of course, I feel like we've grown in the last few weeks. There's a different type of trust, don't you think?" She turns to face him, knowing the conversation was serious.

"Do you know how sorry I am?"

She nods, slowly stepping towards him, stopping right in front of him. She lifts her hand under his chin to have him look at her. "I do, and I forgive you. Sometimes we let our emotions win."

"I hope you know I'd never do that again." His voice is soft.

"I know."

She leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

"Dinner?" She beams.

"Yes, of course."

The meal is good, probably one of the best foods he's had in a long time. She didn't pick this up from his usual place but wouldn't tell him where she went. Told him she needed to keep some things to herself to keep surprising him. Harry finished most of the meal and then opened the pink box she left on the table that held a mixture of donut holes.

"You've still got room," she exclaims.

"They smell so good." He defends. Y/N laughs but rejects the offer to have one.

After cleaning up, he leads them to the living room, deciding to watch a movie. The scroll endlessly for a few minutes before settling on Life As We Know It. Harry shared that it was one he enjoyed watching back, and she agreed.

They had only gotten thirty minutes in before they began chatting. Y/N went on about how she was planning a trip to take two up north wanting to visit June Lake and hike some trails. Y/N's sister was going to see Xavier's family in San Diego, so they couldn't go up with her. Harry, without thinking, said if she'd have them, they could go. She didn't respond, making him assume she didn't want them to join, but she surprised him by hugging him.

"Best idea you've had tonight. I'll make all the reservations. Just let me know when you're free." She told him before settling back down next to him, her hand on his thigh going back to the movie. She was grinning at the montage of Holly and Eric and how they were learning how to co-parent Sophie. Harry had not taken his eyes off of her; she laughed as Sophie pooped in Eric's old hat.

"You're staring." She narrows her eyes at him, suspicious.

"It's because you're beautiful."

"Thank you," she answers timidly. "Very sweet of you."

"Of course, I'm going to spend the rest of my life telling you how beautiful you are if you let me."

"God, you're smooth."

Harry smirks, "Smooth enough for a kiss."

She didn't answer him; she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him forward so that he could meet her halfway, and pressed her lips against his. Harry was quick to take control, slipping his hands around her waist and placing her on his lap, "this okay," he asked, quickly pulling back making sure she said yes. Once he had a go-ahead, he went back to her lips; she shifted closer, now touching chest to chest, not a single space in between as his tongue slipped into her mouth, prideful of the moan she released against his mouth.

Harry smoothed his hands from down her waist to rest on her ass, then cupped her and held her to him as he thrust against her. He pulled back for a second fearful he went too far; Y/N frowned, slowly opening her eyes whispering "again" against his lips, and who was he to deny her.

She could feel his hesitation, slid her hands up, and cupped his jaw, "You're okay, we're okay. You're taking care of me. I want this."

Harry swallowed hard, noting she never stopped rocking herself on top of him. His mouth curved in a slight grin, pushing up to meet her, he felt her go soft in his arms, and that's when he really realized the effect he has on her.

He needed her lips on him, it had only been a few moments, but he was craving her. He laid a string of kisses up her neck until he reached her mouth, lips swollen, but he knew she was eager for more.

"Harry, please." She had a hand tangled in his curls, needing to close the distance.

"I got you, love."

He tilted her head, allowing him to kiss her deeply, the kiss only more intense than before. If he didn't need to breathe, he would kiss her forever, never stopping.

"So pretty, all those moans just for me,"

"All for you," she breathes out.

Harry smirked, moving her up and down over his pants at a steady rhythm, but she was fighting for control.

"Harry."

"It's alright, love, let yourself go. Show me how pretty you look when you come."

Y/N was so close, tensed her thighs around him about to reach her release when they heard a phone ringing, halting their movements. Harry groans, pressing one more lingering kiss to her puckered lips, before reaching over to the side table to his right for his phone, "not me."

She holds back a whine, getting up for her phone inside her jacket. "Whoever it is, don't answer," he half-jokes.

Y/N giggles and looks at the caller as she swipes right to answer, "it's my niece."

Harry watches as she nods, telling her to relax and that she'd be right over.

"Has our night been cut short?"

"It has. Juliet got in an argument with her dad and is now threatening to move out."

"What," he laughs, standing up as he watches her shrug her jacket on.

"Yeah, to the backyard or with me."

"She really made you a mediator."

Y/N laughs, shrugging.

As Harry is walking her to the car, he can't believe how the night turned or would have. "You know I thought it would have been my child who interrupted us."

"Well, your daughter is an angel next to Juliet."

"You really think so,"

"I know so."

"You make it so easy to fall for you," he confesses, wrapping her in a hug before she leaves him for the night.

"Harry."

"What, I mean it."

She leans up to kiss his cheek, "I'm sorry we didn't get to finish."

"Me too."

"I hope you know once I'm in bed tonight, I'll be thinking of you."

"That's not fair."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to be the one taking care of you, making a mess of you."

"We'll get there," she promises.

Harry leans in and kisses her; it's short and sweet.

"Night, Harry. See you Saturday."

"See you then. Goodnight, love."

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's bittersweet honestly, it's the final game of the season. The girls have worked very hard to get where they are now: at the championship game. After this game, win or lose, they'll have a month off. No one will call her asking for an extra jersey, asking her for a ride, or texting her what time the game was, even with them owning the schedule. They'd all get a break until mid-September.

Harry and Josie were the first to arrive, while Kate and Y/N were setting up the warm-up drill.

"Loverboy is here." Kate teases as they walk to the bench.

"Stop." Y/N looks over at them, seeing them heading this way. "Styles family, good to see you."

"Hiya, Coach."

"Hello, Jo. You're going to go get ready?" Y/N says, looking down at the girl's black crocs with Avengers pins.

"Yup," she skips away, sitting on the grass next to Kate, who's pumping air in a few balls.

"Harry, hi."

"No darling," he teases."

She narrows her eyes at him, "I'll have you sit with the other parents if you keep teasing."

Harry looks appalled; she'd suggest such a thing, "Now that hurts."

"You know I thought you'd be sweeter, especially about that wonderful night we had Thursday."

A smile tugs up Harry's face at the memories, "My apologies, didn't want to upset my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Y/n doesn't hide her surprise.

"Yeah, uh, we've gone out enough. I like you, and I'm going out on a limb here that you like me," she nods, allowing him to continue. "You're marvelous and love, Josie; god, you even gave her a nickname. I want this; I really want to hold your hand and keep going on dates with you and kiss you. I never want to stop.

She smiles, stepping into his embrace, "I'll be your girlfriend, boyfriend."

"Enough to risk a kiss?"

She doesn't reply; instead, she leans in, giving him a chaste kiss.

"Now go be a good parent and take a seat."

Harry does so. The smile on his face mirrors her own.

The game passed in a blur; the four quarters finished quickly. Y/N had thought they lost to the other team carrying a two-one win over them. The girls didn't look defeated, but each girl she subbed came out with a sigh but cheered as the minutes counted down.

Everyone hated losing, including herself.

Then out of nowhere, Priscilla, a usually shy player, gets a touch on the ball and sends it towards the goal. The goalie lets it slip under her, and what do you know they scored. The cheers seem endless; Y/N isn't bothered with the time, knowing there isn't much left in the final quarter.

This gives the girls a new motivation like a spark has been lit. It's a game of keep-away, Blue Devils not giving up easily. Abby gets the ball at her feet, and she freezes; the goalie is running right towards her, the defense kept away by the others; it's not until someone shouts, "Shoot!" that the young girl lifts her left foot shooting it through the goalies' legs and hitting the back of the next. Then just like that, the referees blow the whistle and call the game.

The Golden Sparks had won the championship. Y/N felt the tears in her eyes, thankful for the sunglasses hiding her overflowing emotions.

Y/N laughs as she feels Kate hug her and begin jumping up and down.

"We did it!!"

"They did it!"

Y/N is swept through the motions as she shakes hands with the coaches and claps the opposing team's hands. It's not until Juliet runs towards her with full force, knocking her onto the grass, wrapping her arms around her waist, that she's brought back to the moment. Then before she knows it, there are fifteen more girls joining in on the group hug. She's not sure when Kate was dragged into it, but she feels their joy.

They have a lifetime of wins and losses coming ahead in their young lives, but she's happy to be part of one that brings them so much happiness.

The young girls help her get up before hurrying over to their waiting parents. Juliet is being smothered in kisses by her parents. Josie is passed around by Harry's friends and her godparents, congratulating her on the win. Each girl showing off their small first place trophies, indeed to be displayed for all to see somewhere in their home.

Y/N has waved almost everyone off, telling them she would see them for pizza and drinks at their usual location. She took one look around the emptying field and felt she did well this season, but there was also room for her to grow as a coach.

"Looks like you're a champion, love."

Y/N turns around to find Harry smiling at her, Josie a few feet behind, waving to a couple with a baby. "Think she's the champ; she played the game. You did wonderful out there, Jo." She grins as Jo looks at her proudly.

"I still think you should be congratulated; you led these girls. Taught them and helped them grow into becoming better little humans." he shares, grabbing her hand pulling her into his chest.

"Well, thank you." Y/N looks down at Josie, who's crouched down trying to pick up what's likely to be a worm, "Ready for some pizza, Jo?"

Josie nods, not looking up too entranced on the creature in her hands now.

"Can I give you a gift, you know for uh...winning?"

"Course, I like presents." She grins at him, eager for what it could be.

His fingers curled into her nape and pulled her head into his as he kissed her softly. She felt his full lips move over hers; she felt how much he felt for her. As Harry brought their kiss to an end, he pulled back and looked into Y/N's eyes. "Was it a good gift?"

"The best," she answers before they are interrupted by a giggling Josie, who is staring up at them.

"Does this mean you're together?" Jo asks.

Y/N and Harry share a look before looking back at Josie, who's patiently waiting, "yes."

"Oh my! Dreams come true!" She shouts, running circles around them.

"Isn't meeting dad's girlfriend too soon a bad thing?" Y/N asks Harry.

"Not when you know you're never letting go."

"Oh, I like the sound of that." She lets pull her towards him, his arm resting comfortably over her shoulder.

"Plus, you're meeting all my friends at the pizza place, they all came to cheer on Josie, and you did say everyone was invited."

"I might just regret saying that."

"It'll be fine. Not a chance you don't win them all over."

Y/N brings them to a halt, Harry smiling down at her. This is happiness; she never wants to forget it. Harry leans in, letting their mouths meet in a kiss, soft and passionate as they both spill their feelings for another, hoping that with each passing second, the emotions only get stronger and stronger.

Harry pulls back, resting his forehead against hers, "I don't know what the future will bring, but I'm glad we'll be able to see it together."

Josie walks a few steps in front of them, leading the conversation. Harry and Y/N listen intently, holding each other tightly because this is what their future will consist of; more soccer games, more smiles, more laughs but most importantly, more love.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

thank you so much for reading <3333

I adore you. take care xx

[multiples-fandomswontkillme]

~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

[intangibly-here]

i miss you (more than anything)

zhongli x gn!reader

- scenario; 2.4k words - modern!au - fluff - jealousy

————————————————————

zhongli isn’t one for jealousy— usually.

title from mitski - francis forever.

requested by anon.

————————————————————

“an excellent choice, sir.”

again with the nicknames... 

slender fingers pick up a considerably stylized box, the smooth white a stark contrast to dark, glove-adorned palms. zhongli turns the box over in his hands, inspecting the various fine print explanations splayed along the edges of the plastic. now this is...

BANG!

clink. 

zhongli barely stifles a flinch at the sound of the door slamming, hinges squeaking and metal lock clicking into place with a whirlwind of motion. amber eyes flick up to the doorway, then back down to the polished counter.

five minutes late.

he sets the ice cube he’s handling into a wine glass after a brief pause, beginning to fashion up a flute of apple cider vinegar. the pattering of lively footsteps against tiled flooring rapidly grows nearer, clattering to a halt directly across the bar from where he stands. 

“hey there, mister zhongli! looking just about as boring as ever!”

hu tao plops into the cushioned chair, swiveling back and forth on the seat and leaning forward to watch him pour the concoction.

(it’s designated for customers of course— though that’s only usually. she happens to claim, to his exasperation, that she has “owner privileges”; whatever that could possibly mean when the place itself is meant to serve the needs of customers: that would include the spacing and chairs they may potentially desire when they enter the premises. unfortunately, he’s given up on understanding on her whims.)

from his position across the counter, zhongli absentmindedly spies the edge of a bright-red butterfly wing from underneath her outfit’s loose, flowing sleeves, the simple pendant string looped twice around her wrist. 

swallowtail. 

it’s the name (”like the butterfly, zhongli! the butterfly!”) of the establishment he’s currently employed at and is “run” by the granddaughter of a distant relative (though the bar is legally owned by said relative’s family). due to his— well, rather particular (per say) spending habits and a lack of mindfulness regarding the matter of what they liked to call savings (why would there be a need for these “savings”? he’d like to protest he’s traversed life well enough without them), he’d been pushed into putting the multitude of experience from past jobs into this one. 

and well, here he is now. 

chop. chop. 

two evenly-sliced apple slices tip over from against the blade of the knife and onto the wooden cutting board. fetching a sprig of mint from the small potted plant just below the rack of knives (growing lights and shelving did wonders in the spontaneous lighting of the nightclub), zhongli finished decorating the non-alcoholic drink of choice for the pseudo-proprietress. who knew what havoc she’d cheerfully throw herself into, archons forbid, if it were liquor. she’s already enough of a handful as it is. 

he sighs in resignation and slides the beverage over. the ice tinkles in the glass confines. he does have a favor to ask today after all. hu tao gives the drink a sniff, then puffs her cheeks in mock anger. 

“no alcohol? booooo, you’re such a rock.”

she takes a generous sip anyway. 

“so, what did you call me here for? not very zhongli-like for you to ask something of lil’ ol’ me. archons, have you been replaced?” 

she squints at him judgingly, then raises an eyebrow when he hesitates to answer.

“doesn’t look that way, old man.”

zhongli can feel the beginnings of a headache forming between his brows. he waves his hand dismissingly as if flicking away her babbling nonsense. 

“i have a favor to ask of you.”

“oh-ho?”

hu tao smirks playfully and pushes the half-finished drink aside, craning her neck forward. 

“what can i do for our esteemed mister zhongli, hm? hehe.”

zhongli clenches his fist under the edge of the woodwork in an effort to calm his raging annoyance. 

(it doesn’t help.)

he should just ask, shouldn’t he..?

“..i’ve been pondering this for a number of days now, but nothing quite appropriate for the occasion has happened to come to mind... do you happen to have any gift ideas for...”

he looks to the side to avoid eye contact and trails off, but hu tao immediately gets the memo. 

“ohhh..” her smile only grows wider, “this is for your daaaate—”

zhongli’s face flushes the slightest tinge of rosy pink and he hisses a sharp “shush!” through gritted teeth. and here he had thought she couldn’t get on his nerves beyond how she’d already acted thus far... 

the cheshire grin on her face still continues to climb. 

“well, you’ve definitely asked the right person! how about...”

some new polaroid film? is what she had proposed.

“it’s not some fancy-schmancy anniversary gift, no? just a date! a date! don’t worry yourself so much over it— no, don’t look at me like that. if you called me over to ask about it, you’re deeeefinitely losing hair over this— okay, okay, i got it! don’t kick me out! old man... sheesh. why don’t you get some more polaroid film and wrap it up all nice? useful and an excuse to take more pictures together! i know, i know, i’m a genius— mmph!”

he can still hear her voice bouncing around in his head (”can’t believe you’re getting rid of your boss, mister zhongli! didn’t take you for the rebellious type—”). zhongli brings his hand up to his temple and breathes out another sigh. it’s not like her idea was a terrible one; if anything, it were a wonderfully exquisite proposal— not that he would tell her. 

“i’d like to purchase this, if you would.”

he hands the box over to the shopkeep, who scans the package and rings up the bill. indiscreetly, he feels up the pocket of his jacket. thank the archons he remembered his wallet today. it would certainly be embarrassing to put this particular item on your tab. 

“sure thing, mister zhongli. i’m assuming this is a gift,” they eye him knowingly, “so would you like it wrapped up?” 

deja vu, his brain mutters, this is very much deja vu. he shuts it up promptly. 

“not this time, but you have my sincerest thanks for the offer. i’d like to wrap it myself.” he can feel his (generally..) expressionless face flaring up the faintest hint of pink and berates his mind once more. only when it comes to you...

acquiring the purchased item, zhongli dips his head in acknowledgement as he heads out. the plants hanging from baskets strung along the ceiling sway their leaves to and fro, nearly catching a wayward lock of his hair. he smooths the stray strand back.

“thank you once again, aether. let lumine know they can drop by for some tea again whenever they’d like for me, please.”

the bell hanging over the doorway tinkles when he pushes it open, and the bustle of the busy harbor seeps into the tranquility of the shop. aether nods and waves a hand at him in return, resting an arm on the cash register. 

“come again.”

-

while he’d imagined many ways your planned outing could play out, this was certainly not one of them. 

he’s approaching the meeting spot you two had decided on (right in front of the flowering quince tree near the park; its blooms resemble those of simpler, smaller silk flowers, and it happens to be quite the scenic location to wait) when he spies not only your stature, but another figure residing right besides you. 

who...?

as he steps closer, he can hear your laughter, the kind that he knows bubbles out of your chest and escapes your lips unconsciously. your amusement isn’t lost on your companion apparently, because they smirk teasingly, letting out a full-blown laugh of their own. 

“oh, zhongli, over here!”

your voice snaps him out of his meandering thoughts, and he stops fiddling with his earring (when did he start doing that?), continuing forward from where he’d paused in his observations of this newcomer. something starts to bloom in his chest, small and bittersweet. he’s not sure what to make of it. 

following your beckoning, zhongli finally makes his way to your side, mentally taking note of your.. friend? he doesn’t remember you mentioning anyone like this before though. surely he would remember your friends, no? 

his earring sways in the wind, white tassel fluttering cheerfully. 

“zhongli, this is my friend kaeya. i met him when i made that trip to mondstadt awhile back, remember that? oh, and kaeya, this is my boyfriend zhongli.”

(the little dragon curled up in his heart preens at your introduction of him, small and sweet.) 

ice blue meets molten gold when zhongli’s eyes dart up to make eye contact with this stranger. they squint at him, assessing, then dip into the makings of a playful twinkle. a hand reaches out for a handshake, which he returns in equal measure. interesting...

“he got a little lost touring liyue and i happened to see him here in the park. small world, huh? i know it was our day love, but do you mind if we take him around for today?”

zhongli smiles appeasingly, gentle and assuring as always. he can recognize the slightly nervous look on your face, one that’s a stark contrast to how energetic you’d looked just a few minutes ago. if kaeya’s company makes you happy and you’d like to take him around, then who is he to refuse your request? you two will have more time to spend with just the two of you later, he reasons with himself. accompanying your friend, and in turn his acquaintance, is nothing big.

(and no, it’s certainly not you calling him love that makes him cave.)

“of course we can.”

tugging at the string of his eyepatch, kaeya swiftly ties his hair back and adjusts the collar of his shirt. “so, where to first?”

zhongli takes your hand in his, squeezing softly. you squeeze back.

getting along together should come just fine.

-

he takes it back. 

he takes it all back. 

he’d accepted it at first because, well, this was your friend. he shouldn’t be controlling who you interact with nor who befriended you - that’s not up to him. it shouldn’t ever be. however—  with every passing moment that kaeya inched closer to you, taking up the entirety of your attention and bringing that bright, bright grin to your face—

(this was supposed to be your date. just the two of you. he hasn’t seen you in a month; surely he can feel a bit selfish, right?)

the three of you turn the corner to an intricately-themed restaurant and pause, where even zhongli looks appreciatively at the beautifully grown bamboo stalks lining the edges of its front walls. 

“wanmin restaurant,” kaeya reads, craning his neck up to gaze at the signboard. bold red calligraphy is sprawled across the rough-cut wood. “awfully simple name for such a stunning place, isn’t it?”

if he weren’t stewing in a pot of conflicted emotions, zhongli would surely inform him of how carefully selected this title was, how it represented more than just a name, how it hid at least several decades worth of effort and teachings— but as it is, he (really, of all people) has no patience for that at the moment. 

first tugging on the hem of your outfit, zhongli then takes you by the elbow and hastily leads you forward to the glass doors of the establishment. he grasps your hand in his as usual, but something must be off, because you twitch a little and look at him curiously. 

he turns his head away, lips pursed just the slightest.

“let us dine here for the time being. it is an appropriate time and place, after all.”

the sun shines brightly in the clear sky as if illuminating his words.

kaeya raises an eyebrow, singular eye looking on inquisitively and arms crossed, then moves further ahead of you both once more. the corner of his mouth dips in a clear show of mirth. bowing with one arm held at the waist, one not unalike a formality from a server, he looks straight into zhongli’s eyes and holds the door open for entrance. 

“that sounds like an excellent idea. well, if you would.”

-

“thanks for the tour around you two.”

kaeya hums his thanks with a cheerful lilt to his voice as you all stand under the porchlight of zhongli’s house. 

(it’s not the largest abode, but it’s cozy and sweet, and it’s definitely enough for the both of you whenever you decide to stay over. tonight is one of those nights, and they may as well become more frequent after the trip you took abroad.) 

his car keys reflect the glow of the bulb, swinging around his finger in loops. they clink noisily, metal against metal, and he grabs them all at once, halfway through another turn. in his car sits a box of treasure-themed artifacts, likely old and had found its way into your hands somehow. zhongli knows you’d been meaning to give them to someone, but he hadn’t known it were kaeya— either way, the artifacts that’d been laying on his shelves for weeks were now handed off. 

ruffling your hair, kaeya pulls you in for a brief hug; although zhongli can feel the bitter pang in his chest, he stays where he stands, keeps it still and small. he can wait. 

that said, the moment kaeya drives off, he’s hauling you into the house and curling up on the couch, pulling you onto his lap and tugging you into his arms. the long thought over gift sits patiently on the counter. it’s waited the entirety of today; it can wait another. 

right now, he needs you. 

your body sinks against his, relaxing from the lively, though exhausting, day. slumped against his chest, he burrows his head in the crook of your shoulder and cuddles you, nuzzling into your neck. finally, you’re home. home with him. 

it’s warm...

“..it was our day...”

you shift your head at his mumbling, lifting his chin to presumably look at his expression. your attention is his now. not kaeya’s. not anyone else’s. just his. 

(his eyes are soft and droopy, smudged red making them look especially mellow in the dim lighting, and lips pushed into the slightest pout. he knows what you’re seeing when you gaze at him fondly, and you can almost see the puppy eyes he sports. how unusual of him.)  

“someone’s a little jealous here, hmmm?” 

you drag out the syllables teasingly, and from lips that are pressing kisses against your skin, he responds a little muffled—

“perhaps.”

[aminiatureworld]

Time and Chance

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,028

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Confessions are tricky things. Sometimes it takes week, maybe months, maybe years of building up courage for one to happen. And sometimes life throws the oddest wrenches in our paths.

In which the reader confesses.

Author’s Note: I may or may not have decided to go full sappy this week, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you guys with my overbearing angst. Also I thought it was cute. Originally I wasn’t sure if I wanted the reader to be the one doing the confessing or whether it should be the character. I decided upon the reader on a whim essentially, with the idea that I could do the character later. We’ll see! The title today is reference to one of my favorite novels, written by Sharon Kay Penman. If anyone likes historical fiction I’d highly recommend it.

Today’s characters are Albedo, Childe, and Diluc. Tomorrow will be Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli. And maybe Keqing.

Like I said in my past post Happy Valentine’s Day! Although this time it’s Valentine’s Day proper.

Albedo

In your defense, who wouldn’t fall in love with Albedo?

The mysterious alchemist of Monstadt; sharp as a tack, insatiably curious, and blessed with an ethereal sort of beauty on top of it. Who wouldn’t fall in love with such a person?

And that was the problem. You’d sort of taken it for granted that everyone loved Albedo, and in that assumption you’d found a particularly distasteful discovery. That if everyone loved Albedo then you were hardly going to be the only one asking after his time. And, following that line of thought, you figured it’d be incredibly rude – not to mention supremely irritating for Albedo – for you to confess your feelings.

And it wasn’t as if you two were the closest in the world. Although you wouldn’t say you were total strangers either. You instead drifted in that odd in between; more than acquaintances, not quite friends. Or at least that’s how you interpreted it. Albedo didn’t seem to be the person with inclinations towards friendship in general, a not altogether untrue or wild assumption, so you remained content where you were, happy with the conversations you had, with the times he’d trust you with a piece of equipment or would explain to you in detail what he was working on. I mean, surely that was enough?

Absolutely not. Even in your state of perpetual irritation and fretting over your feelings, you knew that simply ignoring them was a ridiculous solution. When did that ever go well? Miscommunication was the relationship killer, no matter what type, and what could be more of a misunderstanding than this? You didn’t even know what he thought of you for Seven’s sake!

So you’d resolved yourself to telling him. Even if he’d be irritated surely he’d appreciate your honesty. And even if he didn’t you needed to tell him, for yourself if not for him.

It was with this in mind that you approached him one afternoon as he was working outside.

“Um, Albedo?” Your voice had taken on a slightly weak tone, as if you didn’t have enough air all of a sudden. It sounded weird, and you kind of wished you didn’t have to hear it. But that was par for the course when dealing something like this, although it didn’t make it any easier.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t notice you there.” Albedo turned around to look at you. You noticed that he’d swapped his regular tools for a paint set and an easel. Glancing at the painting you were struck by how he’d somehow managed to depict Cider Lake so accurately with so few brushstrokes. Never did you think about how the slight ripples that appeared in it could look a bit like circles. It was altogether impressive, and for a moment you forgot what you were doing, or perhaps you’d pushed it out of your mind.

“Was there something you wanted to ask?” Albedo’s voice pulled you out of your artistic musings. Evidently you weren’t going to be able to get out of it now. Come hell or high water, you were going to tell him.

“Well, so… you see, I… I really love you and your work!” The words came tumbling out, dropping like stones in the suddenly charged atmosphere. Almost immediately your nerves were replaced with a distinct sinking sense. “Uhm, rather. I mean –” you tried to begin again, but your voice had suddenly turned quite small, and you found yourself unable to continue.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Albedo’s voice was calm but not unkind, for a moment you felt your face grow warm. Was this actually going to happen? It’d be impressive considering how you’d botched it. “I’m so glad to hear there’s someone else interested in my work. I find that unfortunately a great many people take the world around them for granted. That you do not is commendable.”

You found you weren’t really sure what to say; admittedly the only thing going through your mind at the time was something along the lines of Holy shit. Holy shit I fucking blew it.

Okay, so maybe that was an absolute train wreck. Still, you’d gotten that far, and at this point you felt like it’d be harder to stop and deal with the memory of your botched pseudo-confession than to try again. So you steeled your courage and after a week or so you found yourself ready.

This time you tried for as he arrived at work. Originally you were going to wait for afterwards, but you found the anticipation was tearing you apart, and so decided for before. The anticipation, combined with your slight exhaustion, was nearly unbearable; and a not so small part of you kept telling yourself that this was a terrible idea, but you were too far gone.

“Fancy meeting you here at this time.” There was certainly surprise in Albedo’s voice, but he was smiling, and didn’t seem to mind at all when you stammered out that you wanted to ask him about something. He simply nodded, before unlocking his lab and gesturing for you to go in first.

You loved Albedo’s lab. Various pieces of equipment gleamed in the early morning light, everything properly labeled and put away; a stark contrast to the clutter of Albedo’s desk, filled with papers and the odd sample. The whole room was surprisingly nice in general, floors made of wood, painted over with a type of resin as to keep it from being properly damaged, multiple windows keeping the space surprisingly airy, and the smell of various herbs filling the air, though not so much as to be overpowering. You’d once mentioned to Albedo that the space seemed much to homey to be a proper lab. He’d merely laughed, replying that all homes should be comfortable, no matter how out of the ordinary.

Now you used said comfort and familiarity to ground yourself. This time you’d do it. This time for sure.

“So, um about my question?”

“Yes?” Albedo replied, dropping a few things on his desk. You took a breath, steadying yourself before pushing on ahead.

“Well… you know when I told you I liked you and your work?”

“Of course. I was very happy to hear it.” Albedo’s tone remained opaque, you had no idea how your words were registering.

“Well, you see, I wasn’t being completely clear. What I meant was more… well… well I like you, more than your work.” Seeing the look of confusion on his face you sped up slightly. “Not that I don’t like your work of course! It’s just, it’s just…” you were foundering again, feeling stupidly embarrassed. Becoming more and more frustrated with yourself you shook your head. “What I mean is I like you. Personally. And I like you a lot, more than just as acquaintances or as maybe friends. And I know that this is kind of out of the blue and kind of intrusive, and I’m sure there are a lot of people who like you. But I just wanted to tell you because, well I don’t know, just because.”

You took a deep breath, feeling as if you’d said altogether too many words. Glancing towards Albedo you saw a look of slight shock on his face. A feeling of dread was creeping up on you. Maybe it would’ve been better to say nothing.

“Well, I’m certainly flattered,” Albedo began, all your hopes beginning to sink. Urging yourself not to look away your nevertheless started picking at your fingernails, praying that at least the rejection would be over soon. “though I’m not really sure what you see in me. I’m hardly the ideal sort of person. And there certainly don’t seem to be many people who like me.” Albedo paused then; staring at him you found yourself in slight disbelief, sure that the sudden blush painting his cheeks was a figment of your imagination. “That being said, I cannot say that I don’t reciprocate your feelings. In truth I feel quite foolish now, only for assuming you were uninterested and refusing to try my hand at my own confession.”

“Really?” You didn’t mean for the tone of your voice to come out as so utterly disbelieving, but you couldn’t help yourself. Slightly light-headed you took a step forward, closing the space between you and the suddenly bashful alchemist in front of you. “You like me too?”

“Yes.” Albedo nodded slightly. “And, well, since you like me as well, might we…”

“Might we?”

“Might you do me the honor of becoming my partner?”

You found yourself giggling hysterically, half from the sudden release of nerves half from how ludicrous the situation had turned out to be. Seeing Albedo, looking for the first time uncertain and nervous, you stopped. Your face burst into a smile and you nodded.

“This is quite dramatic. But of course, of course I will.”

“I’m glad. But, might I say something?”

“Yes?”

“I wish you’d told me after work. If only because I’ll never be able to concentrate now.”

 Childe

If you had to describe your crush on Childe in one word it would be: idiotic. If you had to describe it in a sentence it’d be; incredibly irritating but also impossible to ignore.

You liked Childe, you liked him a lot. And you couldn’t blame yourself. Childe was the ideal sort of partner; charismatic, athletic, with eyes that could make your heart skip a beat and hair that was asking for you to run your hands through it. Childe was attentive too, full of words that would make anyone swoon a bit, and always ready to listen, agreeing with you on every point and reacting just as you wished.

But that was the problem. Childe was a façade, his personality had been honed to be as sharp and as deadly as a knife. Of course he was understanding and charismatic and a perfect person to hold a conversation with, what else could one expect of a member of the Fatui?

At first you’d desperately tried to ignore your feelings, as if they were somehow embarrassing. You felt vaguely guilty for carrying a flame for Childe, as if you’d managed to fall into a trap you’d seen a ways away. It was an unpleasant feeling to be sure, and you tried to bury it as much as possible, sure it’d go away.

But it didn’t go away, instead your feelings somehow seemed to become more and more stubborn, as if insisting on leading you down the path that many fools who interacted with the Fatui had fallen down before. Childe was at the forefront of your mind.

You noticed when he passed by you, shooting you a blinding smile which always turned into a self-confident sort of smirk, no doubt a result of your inevitable blush. You noticed the way he always seemed to ask after your interests, but never failed to avoid more personal topics that might make you uncomfortable. You noticed how he laughed at your odd half-jokes and the way that his hand brushed your once, causing you to withdraw your own as if burned, stammering out a “nothing” when he asked what was wrong.

But still you refused to tell him. Surely that was what he wanted, another person who could be called upon to give information to the Fatui, or perhaps assist in their dirty work. That wouldn’t be you, that would never be you.

It was snowing on your way home, blocking out the normal sounds and casting the world in an eerie sort of beauty. You wished that it wasn’t so late, cursing yourself for once more forgetting how early the sun set. It didn’t help that it was blindingly cold, and that you were dressed for weather that was at least ten degrees warmer. Hurrying along you were thinking about the meal that you were going to have, unaware of the slick patch of ice lying in front of you.

“Whoah, be careful!” You were yanked out of your thoughts with alarm. Glancing around you quickened your pace, shoes slipping immediately on the ice. However instead of a hard fall on the street you found a pair of arms wrapped under yours. Glancing up you found your face only centimeters away from Childe’s.

“Sorry for causing that.” Childe’s voice was clear as a bell, marking the contrast between the two of you in your mind. Lifting you up he chuckled slightly. “I should’ve realized that a random voice yelling at you would be alarming. Nothing bruised I hope?”

“N-no.” You managed, face burning. You’d never gotten this close to Childe before, not really, and the experience was going straight to your head, as if you’d suddenly gotten very, very drunk. Shaking your head you shifted your glanced towards the ground. “Thank you.” You managed, although your voice was soft enough to be inaudible. You were still trying to process what was happening. One question kept replaying itself in your mind, why had he called out, why had he noticed you?

“I’m glad!” Childe’s voice was a beautiful thing, and you found you couldn’t really think when listening to it. “I was a bit worried I wasn’t in time.”

“Yeah…” you replied. Suddenly the situation dawned on you completely, and you found yourself looking at him with no little suspicion. “Why do you pay so much attention to me?” You blurted out.

“What do you mean?” The expression on Childe’s face was one of perfect confusion, but you could tell that he’d been somehow caught. The tone of his voice was suddenly muddied, as if you were hearing his uncertainty for the first time. This gave you courage to press forward.

“I mean it. Why, why do I always see you? I mean, why do you even pay attention to me? I’m not the kind of person to forget who you are, the fact that you’re a member of the Fatui. I won’t be roped into your schemes, no matter how much I like you.” Shit. That last part was supposed to be only in your head. For a moment you weren’t sure if you hadn’t actually hit your head somehow.

Childe looked frozen, his expression blank, filled with disbelief as well as… bashfulness? If that’s what it was it certainly didn’t fit the normal vision of Childe, still you found yourself somehow compelled by it. This was a part of the real Childe.

“I… didn’t realize you’d notice. Now I feel found out!” He chuckled again, but this time it was distinctly nervous, and he turned to the side slightly. Suddenly he paused, and his eyes snapped towards yours. “Wait, rewind. You like me?”

“…Yeah.” I mean what were you supposed to say?

“I can’t believe this.” The widest grin spread across Childe’s face, and he started bouncing on his toes slightly, it was very cute you could give him that.

“You’re ignoring the rest of my words. Personal feelings or not I still hate the Fatui, and I still don’t know why you’d target me anyways.”

“It’s cause I like you, can’t you tell?” Childe’s words rammed into you, utterly unexpected; seeing you shake your head he once more closed the space between you two. “No, I mean it. I like you. I just can’t believe that you like me back.” He let out another huff of laughter. “I can’t believe I’m this lucky, I’ve never been this lucky. Well, I’m sorry that I came off like I was some Fatui creep, I promise my occupation doesn’t include systematic wooing of civilians.”

“How can I trust you?” You were trying to stand your ground, but in reality you’d already fallen. The situation was too much, and what little resistance you’d managed to hold on in the past weeks was tearing to shreds before your own eyes.

“Because I wouldn’t lie about this.” Childe was suddenly still, his expression deadly serious. “I promise I wouldn’t lie about something like this. The fact is I like you, I like you a lot. I know my job is… unconventional to say the least; I also know that it’s entirely fair if you don’t want to associate with me because of it. But at least trust in my feelings being real, okay?”

What could you do? You nodded, a short “I trust you” falling from your lips. The feeling of happiness was surprisingly sedate, mixed with nerves, yet also somehow filled with contentment. It felt so good, it felt so good just to let go and accept what had happened. You liked Childe, you liked him so much, and he like you too. What more was there to say?

“May I ask you something?” Childe asked, voice slightly husky. Your faces were once more barely apart, and you found that you could stay like this for ages and ages.

“Yes?”

“May I hold your hand?”

You let out a laugh, smiling brightly as you slid your hand into his.

 Diluc

You weren’t even sure how this one happened.

It wasn’t that Diluc wasn’t the perfect kind of guy, I mean if he wasn’t you probably wouldn’t be falling madly into one sided love with him. It was just that you two didn’t actually have much of a chance to interact with one another, what with him being the manager and part time bartender of a surprisingly vast winery, and with you being an adventurer and someone not likely to get plastered any time soon.

But the few times that you had interacted with him, usually something to do with guarding the alcohol he was exporting, had been enough to cement an intense infatuation in your mind. There was just something about him; whether it was his voice, his polite yet intense form of speech; his mannerisms, always perfectly on time with what he needed, something which helped you and the Guild immensely; or his general charm, okay look he had great hair; you’d simply gone mad for him.

And mad indeed you were. Though you weren’t about to become a stalker – besides being incredibly creepy on principle since when did that land a person in anything but jail – you’d taken to trying to find out a least a little more about him. Because if you were going to be infatuated with someone it should at least be for more than his organizational skills and the fact his hair would look great in a high ponytail.

And what you’d found out only built upon your crush. The fact that he found the Knights of Favonius lacking, though perhaps a bit unconventional, was ultimately reasonable, or at least justifiable. You liked also that he refrained from drinking, and not just because the idea of ending the night sick in the bathroom was something that haunted you a bit. The more you learned the more you wished that you were in a situation where your feelings could be reciprocated, or at least where you could become friends of some degree. Really you just wanted him to notice your existence, sure he could pick you out in the endless sea of adventurers.

So you planned on introducing yourself at some point, at least as his almost designated wine protector. The only problem was when. Diluc seemed to be busier and busier these days, and when he was around he seemed muted, as if he was carrying something. You couldn’t bring yourself to add to his burden your own baggage. So you said nothing, and as your crush grew so did your dejection.

It was a lovely summer evening and, seeing as your apartment had becoming stifling in the daytime, you’d taken a walk, snaking through the streets of Monstadt before exiting via the back gate, glad to see there were no guards around. Walking down towards the banks of the lake you slipped off your shoes and dipped your feet into the water. Letting out a sigh you sat down and tilted your head back, enjoying the slightly breeze on your face, trying to take your mind off of the past months of agony. The world faded into background noise, and you found yourself in a state of pseudo peace, glad to have it, if only for a moment.

“Watch out!” A familiar voice broke through your reverie. Turning your head towards the source of your disruption you saw a masked figure as well as a cryo abyss mage. The mage, having correctly decided you were going to be easier to deal with than the actively armed person, suddenly appeared right in front of you. Acting on instinct you pushed your hand in front of you, letting electricity bloom from your fingertips.

As the abyss mage lay stunned your felt an arm wrap around your waist, dragging you a ways away. “Wait here.” The person carrying you said, before running back to fight. Finally getting a good look at your savior it was all you could do not to gasp. Despite being the cold hard truth you still found it hard to believe, and for a second you wondered if you hadn’t passed out somewhere and were having a particularly fantastic dream.

Finally the fighting was over, lifting yourself up you jogged over to the man who could only be the Darknight Hero.

“Master Diluc?” The words flew out of your mouth.

“Just Diluc please.” Diluc shook his head. “Forgive me for being a bit rough. Cryo abyss mages and electro users rarely work well together.”

“It’s perfectly fine!” You replied eagerly. “Really, thank you!”

Diluc offered a smile in reply, one that immediately made your heart seize up. Suddenly you remembered who the person in front of you was. Seized at first with something akin to embarrassment you also came to a sudden realization. This might be the only chance.

“Diluc?”

“Yes?”

“Well, can I say something?”

“Of course you may.” Diluc relaxed his stance, leaning slightly forward. Your face was burning, you really weren’t expecting something like this to happen, but it was now or never.

“I realize this will be quite sudden, but I… I like you.” You felt the urge to add on something, some explanation or apology, but unfortunately, or perhaps thankfully, you found you couldn’t say anything more. Running your fingers through your hair you lowered your head slightly, not wanting to see the expression on his face.

“Can I say something?” Diluc’s voice was gentle, and you couldn’t help but look up at him. Though you wouldn’t say his stance had changed very much, he somehow seemed more relaxed, something you weren’t expecting.

“Of course! I realize what I said must really be a shock, I’m really sorry.” You let out a pathetic sort of laugh.

“Don’t be sorry. I realize what I’m about to say must be equally as shocking. But, the fact of the matter is I like you as well.”

“I didn’t realize you knew I existed!” You replied, still not ready to drop your defense mechanisms. Diluc stared at you, a perplexed expression on his face.

“I’m quite surprised by that, I thought that my request for you to be the guild member in charge of the Winery would’ve been an indicator. Forgive me, I didn’t realize that you were unaware.”

“I thought that was a decision by the Guild to make things easier.” You admitted. “Although I guess I just didn’t want to admit that you might be aware of my existence.”

“Why?”

“Because that would’ve been scary! I mean, what if you didn’t like me, not in that way, just… in general.”

“Well I like you a lot.” Diluc’s voice was soft and warm.

“I like you two.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper.

As he escorted you back to your home the two of you spoke about a myriad of things, some important and some quite mundane. You found that having your feeling reciprocated had truly opened up something in you. Suddenly everything seemed so much realer, made manifest by Diluc’s presence. You couldn’t believe it really. What had failed with months of planning had succeeded in a matter of moments.

And all because of an unsuspecting abyss mage.