#next iphone update | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solecize · 10 months ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jungkook x reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. swearing 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up.

part one: the storm, the envelope and the granddaughter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ next. masterlist

i. the storm

for the first time in a long time, your eyes flutter open to the golden curtains of the sun and not the blaring noise of a royalty-free iphone alarm. the rays are harsh and welcoming all at once, as you blink away the stinging sensation and adjust to the muddy path ahead. there was no mistake about it, the town withstood an unforgiving storm last night. however, mud coating the wheels of your bus seemed to be the only indication, as you became distracted with the kiss of summer from the skies above and the clear cerulean painted across cotton candy clouds.

memories of amber valley became bygone over the years, as memories always do. but, amber valley seemed to be a long lost chase you haven’t won in years and the older you became, the town disappeared entirely. it was like the smell of your favourite scented markers and the feeling rumbling at the pit of your stomach on the first day of school - nothing but faint ideas from your childhood.

“we’re not going to visit grandpa this summer?”

at age twelve, you couldn’t fathom missing out on the midsummer festival or being away from your horse, marshmallow. for that age, absolutely everything felt like the end of the world, whether it was missing an episode of your favourite show or not getting an invite to a classmate’s sleepover. it was a little different for you, though, as you looked at your dad’s dull eyes. they’d been dull since the divorce went through that february. they never shone since and that’s how you knew things weren’t going to be the same.

he shook his head at you, but never met your eyes. “no, i’m sorry. he’s coming up for to the city at the end of july, though - “ it would be later in life, precisely at age 25 and months removed from your grandfather’s funeral, when you would learn that he only began coming up to the city to regularly see a hepatologist, “ - so you can see him on your birthday.”

you did, in fact, see grandpa for your birthday and for the rest of the years to come. he laughed with his whole body and his smile never failed to reach his eyes when he gave you updates on the farm and amber valley. grandpa did his best, but time passing came with you losing your bright eyes whenever he spoke fondly of his town. it was inevitable, when the big city enveloped your teenage self and you became more concerned with interests that come with the turn of youth - clothes, parties and boys.

now, there was absolutely nothing wrong with any of those ideas. you stood by this at heart, embracing femininity and defending it alongside your love for science and life. you grew up and began wearing high heels to dates, to university lectures and finally, to your 9-5 on the busiest corner of your city’s financial district. you had long outgrown your riding boots, likely tucked away at the back of your closet in your studio apartment. you began just politely smiling and nodding when your grandfather shared local amber valley gossip about individuals who were just names to you now, also tucked away at the back of your mind.

even though you eventually grew past the age where you needed your parents’ permission to make the trek over to amber valley, past the period of time where your mother refused to speak to your father to coordinate your trip to see your grandfather, the idea of returning to the valley never crossed your mind. like summer camp, it was something you thought you didn’t need anymore and preferred spending your school-less months with your friends in your hometown, working away at your first part-time job and getting your first ever drivers’ license. a seventeen year old city girl wouldn’t want to waste her summer at her grandfather’s old farm.

“mrs. oh’s husband just left the valley for his deployment overseas. may god watch over that family.” it was one of the last times you saw grandpa, late on christmas eve when everyone else went to bed. your mom, her new husband and your little sister had bade their goodnight’s by 10pm and left the two of you sipping honey lemon tea by the fireplace.

your mom’s new husband made a lot of money. that was one of the first things you noticed about him and it was so different from the two bedroom inner city apartment you were raised in. it was certainly different from your grandpa’s farmhouse, where the television only got three channels and all of the windows never fully opened because they would fall apart entirely if you pulled too far. you and your grandpa mused these thoughts on their white leather couch, when the conversation slowly moved back to how the old farm was going.

you tried to sound interested. “oh really?” the reality was you couldn’t remember if the oh family was the one that ran the general store or the one couple who seemed to be constantly fighting, on the verge of divorce.

grandpa grunted in response. “mhm. thankfully, they have jungkook helping out around the store. ah, the wasted potential with that boy, but such a kind heart.”

“jungkook..?”

“oh, you remember him! the two of you would always bike by the beach,” he said. “i’ll never forget, you two would always come back and show me the seashells you collected that day. always made a competition out of everything.”

he chuckled and you joined in, hiding the despondence for being unable to recall. grandpa didn’t seem to notice, though, continuing to discuss amber valley. cranberries and pumpkins were the strongest crops of the fall, mayor kim was re-elected for a third time and something about the town soon getting their first chain convenience store since amber valley’s founding. then, grandpa’s face lost his smile and a serious expression formed on his ageing features. he asked you about your job and how life was for you.

by now, you’re 22 and working an entry-level position with nothing but a bachelor’s in your pocket and a hunger to climb the corporate ranks. like any fresh college graduate, there was no meaning to life if it weren’t for paying overpriced rent, mimosa sundays, dating apps, and maybe remembering to go to the gym every now and then. the life you lived was loud from city traffic and heavy from looming student debt.

“my job is..okay. i’m just starting out and i’m really just trying to do my best,” you replied.

grandpa, still with a serious look, placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it gets stressful, doesn’t it?”

you opened your mouth to respond again, but failed to find your voice this time. your stress was found in a growing caffeine addiction and getting too tired to give your parents a call on the weekends. adulthood was everything you expected and nothing you expected. you secured a job that you dedicated four years of studies to and just like that, was pushed into a world of hustle and bustle and nothing in between. once this realization settled, you tried to hide it by cracking a faint smile. grandpa saw through it, though - he always did.

“well, darling, if it ever does get too stressful..” you became confused when grandpa reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope. he handed it to you and you turned it over, finding no writing other than your name in your grandfather’s decorative penmanship.

you asked, “what is this, grandpa?”

he finally smiled again, but shook his head. “a gift. it’s yours for when you find that you need a break from the challenges of life.”

grandpa only gave gifts from the heart. only, this time, you wouldn’t know that he was giving you his entire heart and soul. you had taken this envelope and slid it in the drawer of your desk at home, where you tirelessly worked after hours, even after returning from the office. it was hidden away, but always poked your curiosity at the back of your mind. however, you restrained from opening it, even when it eventually became one of the last things you had from grandpa.

ii. the envelope

the only time you took the pristine envelope out of your desk was on the day of his funeral.

it was no surprise that grandpa wanted to be buried in amber valley, his home for over fifty years and his birthplace. it was once your heart’s home, too, once upon a time when you were a child skipping rocks by the town river and rode your horse through mustard-hued sunflower fields. for that, you were nervous to return and confront the realities of your coming of age in the face of a town that only lived in your memories, sickeningly reminding you of the years that have gone past.

wedged between your mother and father who had only began speaking to one another as of three years ago, you stared blankly at the onyx coffin that, in about 20 seconds, was gone from your sight and lowered into the ground. it happened all too quick. you clenched your arm tighter, squeezing the envelope tucked underneath and protecting it from the rain. your very last summer in the valley was marked by constant rain and wind and once again, you greet the town amidst storms.

the drive was quick, having gone directly to service after the three hour drive from the city. you couldn’t make much of the town through the gloom and suddenly, the valley was so much colder than you remember. like your being since your grandfather’s passing, it lost its colour. it was unwelcoming and felt like a punishment for your neglect over the years. amber valley was unforgiving as much as it was perfection.

you couldn’t make out much of the attendees through the gloom, either. many of them appeared absolutely devastated, sobbing and cold-faced at the goodbye of a beloved neighbour. your grandfather was always well-liked amongst the townspeople, helping out his friends with mundane tasks whenever he had free time away from the farm and shared his warm personality at community events. this was affirmed through the stories that were shared about him at the service, recognizable for his distinct good heart, but seemed so far away for you, having detached yourself from amber valley.

“oh, an unfamiliar face! what’s your name, dear?” a man around your father’s age with salt and pepper hair was handing out hor d'oeuvres at the post-service gathering in the church basement. he seemed to be the most upbeat one in the room - though, it wasn’t saying much, considering the occasion.

you told him your name, while looking around for either one of your parents. being in a room of strangers wasn’t your favourite activity, especially following a funeral. the last thing you wanted to do was socialize, feeling like you weren’t even in your own body all day. while you were saddened and to an extent, numb, you knew your grandfather’s passing was coming up. his illness was going to catch up to him and you spent months mentally preparing yourself for the day you would have to say goodbye. despite not being surprised, your grief was accompanied by the painful nostalgia of the town that raised you in the summertime.

the man looked at you, appearing to search your face for something. “you’re the old man’s granddaughter? bunny?”

the nickname almost made you flinch, having not heard it in so long that you were surprised you recognized it. you began searching the man’s face, too, also looking for some signs of familiarity. for so many years of your childhood, you were almost exclusively called this nickname by adults and friends alike.

there wasn’t room for a response when the man pulled over another individual by his sleeve, merely attempting to walk by in peace. this one was a man closer to your age and you were too distracted by the glisten of his facial piercings to scan for recognition. the second thing you noticed the adornment of tattoos peeked from below his sleeve and trailed onto his hands. the third and final thing you noticed about him was how gentle his hands were. this was realized because the sight of this man made you drop whatever was in your own hands in surprise.

the only thing you were holding was your grandfather’s envelope, no longer pristine and stained with a few raindrops. you noticed that you had been clutching onto this keepsake the entire service. you bent down to reach for it, when he also attempted to make the save for you. your hands brushed and you looked up at his eyes, suddenly taken away by confusion.

“jungkook, you remember bunny?”

you forgot the older man was in your presence, as he was the one who pulled jungkook over in the first place. jungkook. this was the little boy you spent hours running around with all those years ago. although you seemed to forget when your grandfather had last brought him up, those moments began to rain down on you upon taking sight of him for the first time in years. you had barely looked, but it hit you.

jungkook handed the envelope over to you and you cleared your throat, standing up properly and trying not to wobble on your favourite high heels. he also stood up and seemed to mirror your confusion, not understanding who was the person in front of him. you muttered a thank you and fixed an imaginary snag on your cardigan.

“i just go by my first name now,” you said through a tight smile to both men, still feeling like your gut was punched in after hearing the nickname that your grandpa coined,

“oh, of course. you’re all grown up now!” the man exclaimed. “do you remember me? mr. kim?”

the truth was that you didn’t remember him by face, but instead remembered that your father mentioned a man of this name being the mayor. if he was the same person, mr. kim’s father was the previous town mayor, as well, and was your grandfather’s best friend before his own untimely passing. given his larger than life presence, it was same to assume that the man in front of you was the tiny valley’s politician.

“mayor kim, of course.” you hoped you sounded convincing.

jungkook was still standing to the side, the same confused look etched on his face. “you’re the girl that tricked me into eating mud that one time?” he blurted, as if an imaginary lightblub flashed above his head

that took you by surprise and you almost snorted. “i didn’t trick you, you just went for it.” the quick snap back also took you by surprise, having left behind a bit of your normal self in the city before coming down to the valley for the funeral, as well as your instant recollection.

somehow, this memory was clear as day and you could remember jungkook as a seven year old with a horrible bowl cut and missing teeth. you wore light-up sneakers and candy bracelets that day, sitting on the porch of your grandfather’s farmhouse with him and were exchanging dares to see who would give up first. maybe that was why your grandpa said you two were -

“ - always competitive,” jungkook said.

although the two of you surely shared countless more memories, it was this one that stood against the test of time and it showed when it immediately hit you with a laugh. it took jungkook a second, too, but he eventually gave in and joined with his own. you hadn’t realized it until his swollen eyes became crescents in his giggles, but he seemed to be having his own trouble of a day.

“there it is, jungkook! nice to see you finally cheer up a bit,” mayor kim encouraged and jungkook’s chuckle immediately fell back to a straight face, almost intentionally. you suspected that this was not the first time today that mayor kim was on his case.

before mayor kim could add on, his attention gravitated towards something at the other end of the room. he sighed and set down the hor d'oeuvres, checking the time on his wrist dressed with gold.

“oh, i’m being called over,” he sighed and turned back to you. “it was a pleasure seeing you again, i hope to see you around town before you have to go back to the city.”

swiftly, mayor kim weaved his way through the crowd and just like that, it was just you and jungkook.

you took this opportunity to give jungkook an actual once over, comparing it to the faint image you had of this man from when you were children. undeniably, he was handsome, but you were more concerned with the fact that this was still the little boy you spent your summers with. he grew into his face and you didn’t realize that you accidentally said this out loud.

jungkook looked as much taken aback as he was amused. “oh, you got jokes, huh? that’s what you learned growing up in the city?” he teased.

“i didn’t mean it like that - “ you started, but he waved you off with a laugh.

the conversation was a bit overwhelming, considering you were still stuck in a church basement following your grandfather’s funeral service and could not locate your parents anywhere. jungkook recognized this in your face and eased into a sympathetic smile. somehow, you felt okay enough around him to drop your tense shoulders for the first time that day.

“i’m sorry, i should be giving my condolences. your grandpa was a loved man by everyone here.”

looking around the room, it was clear. everyone had shared fond stories and were making toasts in his honour. you felt out of place, but more so because you felt like you should have been joining in with the attendees. instead of being a kind of extended family that once saw you grow up, these people were strangers. you weren’t sure if anyone recognized you, having tried to lay low and not draw any attention to yourself. the only times you seemed to have caught anyone’s eye was when you were sat beside your parents at the burial, but no one dared approach you then.

“you were like a son to him, too,” you offered. it was true, given the amount of time you spent with jungkook as a child, maybe even going so far to call him your best friend at one point.

he let out a long breath, eyes moving to the enlarged portrait of your grandfather propped up on the wall. “that’s nice of you to say. i miss him already. i’m sure you feel the same.”

you learned quickly that, in light of your disappearance from your grandfather’s farm over the years, jungkook was the one who began helping out and taking over what were your old chores. your grandfather was physically able, but he kept the young boy around for company and made feeding the chickens an excuse to have his presence. hearing this made your heart drop, feeling an unknown sense of regret that you didn’t know existed when it came to the farm.

“it’s not like that!” jungkook cut in, seeing the tears well up in your eyes. “he would always talk about the two of you going on adventures in the city and how he loved spending time with you whenever he came up to visit. he knew that’s where your heart was.”

you sniffled a bit, having already promised yourself to limit your breakdowns to two that day, and took a second to reel it in. “sorry…i don’t mean to - “ you sighed.

“it’s okay. it’s weird being back here, huh?”

it was weird. it was so damn weird that the air of amber valley stuck with you for the months following, like bubblegum in your hair and a melody on loop in your head. you couldn’t shake it. not when you were working an extra 20 hours overtime in a week, not when you became stuck in traffic everyday, and especially not when your boyfriend of three years dumped you because you “changed” so much since the start of the year.

and, it was true. you changed a lot since your conversation with your grandfather on christmas eve, with his words echoing about the stressors of life everyday. it opened your eyes to how much you were really struggling and it wasn’t simply you who had changed, but your outlook on life. ever since you were twelve years old, everything shifted to the fastlane and years breezed by you in the blink of an eye. everything moved so fast and you never got a chance to catch your breath. one moment, you were 15, sneaking a sip of your first ever drink, and the next, you were 24 and drinking straight out of the wine bottle on a tuesday evening. you wondered how you suddenly found yourself jaded at a 9-5 black hole of a job that sucked out your energy and passions.

these days made you think about what truly deserved your energy and what truly were your passions. did you like your everyday routine of gluing on false lashes and slipping on pantyhose? were you happy, alone in your apartment with not even a cat to talk to? your parents had their own worlds and new lives to deal with and long stopped asking why you never call. your friends were co-workers, having no time to meet anyone new. you didn’t even have time for hobbies, given how tired you were every time you finished work and the amount of overtime you did.

one thursday night, you arrived home from work at 10:13pm and decided you had enough. it was constraining, nearly strangling you with exhaustion everyday. you spent the entire day wondering was “it” was and when you kicked off your loafers by your doorstep, it hit you. this was what your grandfather was talking about.

almost walking with fear of what was to come, you creeped over to your desk. after your grandpa’s funeral, his envelope no longer lived underneath manila folders in your drawer, but found a place on the surface. you kept it there, as it mocked you every time you opened up your work laptop after hours. you didn’t realize why you left it in plain sight, until this moment when you came to terms with the fact that you were reminding yourself of him.

“if you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of change. the same thing happened to me, long ago. i’d lost sight of what mattered most in life. . . real connections with other people and nature. so i dropped everything and moved to the place where i truly belong.”

it took you precisely two weeks to pack up your things after opening the envelope. nobody could convince you not to. your mother complained that you were wasting your degree and your father had concerns about the massive role you were about to take on all by yourself. it didn’t matter.

two weeks later, you met amber valley and its sunlight for the first time in years, pretending that the storm ceased and the sun shone to welcome you back.

iii. the granddaughter

the sun faded quickly when you realized the bus dropped you off on a plain dirt road in the middle of nowhere. the movers took the rest of your belongings separately, so you were left with nothing but a duffel bag and a cell phone that couldn’t find any signal.

“oops,” was all you could say. you didn’t think it was a crazy idea, that there would be service at the very least.

it took you a few moments to let the situation settle in and for you to realize that you were abandoned in a place that was unfamiliar to you. was it unfamiliar? you looked around, seeing nothing but fields on fields and accepted that there was no way you could even try to remember where you were, even with the help of the maps app. you knew you made it to town, but you were certainly left at the farthest point of the borders.

and then, you heard it.

it was over at least ten years since you last rode, but your ears perked up at the sound of a horse’s gallop naturally. you had to squint, but it was unmistakable.

they were going in the other direction and they were going fast, so you had to think fast. you tried yelling and waving your arms, but quickly saw that it was useless. so, you dropped your bg and brought your hands to your mouth, releasing the loudest whistle that your vocal chords could handle.

the horse and its rider kept going and for a few seconds, you thought you lost hope. but, then, as you were about to pick up your bag in shame, you watched them take a wide turn back around. they were headed to you.

you waved your arms back and forth again, affirming that you needed their attention. as they came closer, you could make out a figure of a man with chestnut brown hair peeking out underneath his cowboy hat. he wore medium wash, stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt.

“that was the loudest whistle i’ve ever heard,” he hollered, drawing closer to you.

you shook your head bashfully. “didn’t even know i remembered how to do that.”

“pretty sure the whole town heard. my name is namjoon, are you visiting someone here?”

likely a few years older than you, you tried to recall someone named namjoon from your memories. his appearance didn’t ring a bell, so you were searching your brain for his name or if you heard it from somewhere.

you told him your name and then squinted at him, pausing for several moments before speaking again. “are you. . .joonie?”

his eyebrows shot up immediately, looking at you like he couldn’t understand what language you were speaking. “pardon me?”

joonie. he was mayor kim’s eldest son, who was sent to a fancy arts camp every summer when you were younger. you only met him a few times throughout the years, as he often arrived back the same week you were due to leave your grandpa to go back to your parents, but one feature stuck in your mind always. his dimples. you thought you recognized namjoon’s polite smile and piecing it together with his name seemed to be the key.

“i’m pretty sure you’re mayor kim’s kid. i’m bad with faces, but you’re joonie, aren’t you?” the confidence in your voice was fuelled by the fact that no one really left amber valley. it was the kind of place where families would raise their children with the kids they grew up with themselves.

namjoon seemed to still be calculating your appearance in his head when you heard the faint noise of galloping once again. the two of you looked over to see another person on a horse who was looking around the field, likely looking for namjoon. the man in question brought his hand to his mouth and released a whistle similar to yours - though, you did gloat silently because yours was, in fact, louder.

still, it was enough to get the person’s attention and they finally made eye contact with the two of you. they began approaching and you could make out that it was a man’s figure. still, even with how small of a town amber valley was, you were surprised to see who it was.

“jungkook!”

“namjoon, i just spent fucking 15 minutes looking for you - “

you tried to keep your expression neutral when you saw that it was actually jungkook on the horse. he wore an all-black outfit of cargo pants and a wife beater tank that exposed his tattooed arms. it made it hard to keep your expression the same.

“oh, hey. did you come to collect something from your grandpa’s property?” jungkook suddenly ignored his previous frustration at namjoon, cleared his throat and dropped his voice by an octave, in addition to cutting his voice’s volume by a cool half. he swiftly hopped off his horse, too cleanly to be casual.

namjoon’s confusion only doubled, darting eyes between the two of you. “sorry, have you guys met?” he didn’t miss the way that jungkook straightened his shoulders without even trying to be subtle.

you missed it, though, having cut away your stare to double check if your phone managed to get any signal. none. sighing, you shook your head at jungkook, as he began explaining to namjoon.

“ - we called her bunny. remember bunny?” he nudged towards you.

namjoon looked back at you again and concern formed. “you’re the granddaughter. oh, you were at the funeral - i’m sorry about your loss. your grandpa was such a great person.”

you put on the same tight smile every time someone mentioned him. the worst of the grief came back on some days, but you learned how to manage it day by day as time went on. jungkook watched you do so and cleared his throat.

“the old bus stop is the worst,” he interrupted, gesturing towards the tiny sign that indicated that it was in service. “people get lost all the time when they arrive. well, we don’t really have a lot of people visiting by bus - “

you couldn’t help but cut in. “i’m not visiting.”

the two men gave you and your single chanel duffel bag a blank stare and wondered if the idea was so hard to believe. it was for your parents, who both thought you caught them on some sort of prank show when you told them about grandpa’s envelope. you were wearing platform mary janes and a leather skirt in the dead of the june sun, so maybe they had a reason to be confused.

there was a moment of silence, so you decided to speak again. “yeah, i’m not visiting. um, i’ve decided to take over my grandfather’s farm. i’m moving to amber valley permanently.”

#jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #jungkook series #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts series #jungkook reaction #*** / the farmhouse.

512 notes · View notes

writingsfromhome · 10 months ago

Text

Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?�� He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

Taglist - leave me a message if you’d like to join it :)

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #asks #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #dos and donts #ahhh #i didn’t edit this too much it all kind of came out at once #so ignore any errors #hope this is fun to read #it was fun to write

259 notes · View notes

lilwetto · 11 months ago

Text

Save a horse, ride a cowboy (18+)

Scrim x Y/N

Warnings: SMUT. Also will be written in third person BUT it might change to first since it's easier for me idk yet. might change it.

A/N this is my first scrim smut, so GO EASY ON ME. I also cannot do small paragraphs. I'M SORRY. I'm learning okay lmao, this is new to me all over again- this will not be light work, ok? Also would appreciate requests n shit, I want to actually test how far I can go with these while writing my stories on wattpad. I'll update whenever I can here, there's no hate here, only love. All my smut that I post here will be on my wattpad under LTE since I want to make an imagines book based on requests. It's difficult writing stories and trying to come up with ideas for imagines so pls give me ideas.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been a month since you've heard from Scott, the two of you had been fighting on and off for the last three years, being in a relationship with him had never been an easy one. You had been best friends from the start to failed lovers now, he had written a verse about you in their song Escape from Babylon- talking about how you had gone from saying "I hate you" to "I love you", you've been in love with Scott since before the fame, however he had never felt the same way about you until a few years ago.

Your last falling out, you decided to pack all of your shit and move out of the home you two shared. He was entertaining the females on tour and that seemed to be the last of your strength to stay in that relationship, leaving hurt the most since you felt like he never fought for you.

Unfortunately, you’d have to see him again, you were their stylist for onstage attire and helping with the style of any music video any of them would be in. You knew Scott had a music video coming up, he had been writing a new album for the last year and a half. some new genres for him to try. Autotune being his best friend of course.

You were dreading that phone call from their manager, Kyle. He knew your relationship with Scott was in fact all over the place, everyone could see that the two of you would always fall out, it was no secret that you were slowly starting to hate the person he had become.

The last few minutes were peaceful yet horrible as you were pulled from your thoughts by the harsh ringtone of your iPhone. You groan out loud as Kyle’s name flashed across the screen, knowing you couldn’t ignore it. He paid you to do your job.

“What?” You mumbled after accepting the call.

“Nice to hear you’re cheery, Y/N.” His chuckle rattled your brain, rolling your eyes in disgust. “We need you to style this next video, come out to Chihuahuan Desert.” The fucking desert? Great. You think to yourself.

“When?” You mumble. You already knew the answer to your question, now.

“Now would be great.” You look at the time.

“Why the fuck are you guys picking closer to 11pm?” You didn’t want to leave the comforts of your bed. You managed to find a small apartment in New Mexico since your house with Scott was located in the middle of New Mexico.

“Y/N, we’re not doing this again, be here in the next hour.” Kyle hung up on you, making you more annoyed than ever as you climbed out of bed and threw on some clothes that’ll keep you warm for the night.

You drive your car to Chihuahuan Desert, seeing parts of the crew already setting up the lighting for this music video. Scott hadn’t released any new music yet, he had so much in the vault and was too picky to choose what he wanted to do with them all.

You weren’t happy that they wanted to do this music video at stupid o’clock, parking your car and climbing out. You walk towards the group of people, seeing Kyle getting hands on. “Where is he?” You ask. Clearly not wanting to see or talk to Scott.

“He’s in that trailer.” He pointed towards the trailer park looking as home. You rolled your eyes and walked up to the doors, knocking loudly as you hear a grumble and the words “come in.”

Scott was looking over a few pieces of clothing, keeping his eyes locked onto the table as you stepped into the trailer. A part of you wanted to hug him tightly, but the other part wanted to cuss him out and cry. You were the only two in the trailer, looking over at the thousands of clothing that he couldn’t pick from.

You grab a white oversized shirt, orange sweatshirt and a pair of his baggy jeans, placing them to the side as you looked over at his accessories. “What were you thinking of wearing?” You break the silence first.

“Was thinking maybe this chain and bracelet.” Your hand brushes against his as the two of you go to pick up the same item. “Sorry.” You mumble quickly.

Scott shrugs it off and plays it cool as he picks up the white cowboy hat and places it onto his head, a different look for him. He was branching out, picking up new styles from what he does in Suicideboys.

“I want to say I’m sorry.” He started, catching you by surprise. Scott never apologized; he was stubborn as fuck when it came to him being wrong. In Scott’s eyes he was always right, who was the female in your relationship, huh?

“Doesn’t matter, I’m over it.” You say before you can even stop your words from rolling off the tip of your tongue. Scott wouldn’t like that answer and it felt foreign coming from you as you turned your back to leave the trailer to let him get dressed.

“What?” His hand enclosed around your right upper arm, making you mentally groan. This is the last thing you wanted to deal with right now. “You don’t give a fuck about us?”

You let out the biggest laugh as you turn your head to look at him. “That’s rich coming from you. Scott, it’s you who doesn’t give a fuck about us. I have chased you and pleaded and what would you do?” You huffed in annoyance as he turned you to face him.

“You know I ain’t mean it like that, shawty.” He was doing his little cheesy grin, the one that would get him what he wanted as he bit on his lip.

“Get changed, you asshole.” You wanted to leave because this always happened, it was always a cycle with Scott, and you were too tired to keep going around like a merry-go-round.

He pulled your hands towards his belt, lingering your fingers over the cold metal piece. “I think I need some help.” He mumbled that grin still sitting on his lips made you want to slap it off.

You thought about leaving, but somehow you were in a trance, helping him out of his clothes to change into these new ones. He reached around you, locking the door from behind you before he pressed you up against it.

His arm outstretched beside your head, resting his hand on the door. “Suck it.” He mumbled, his other hand now holding your chin as his thumb grazed against your lower lip.

Being the good girl that you were, you slowly got to your knees and with the help of Scott had his pants around his thighs. He was semi-hard, almost waving at you. Your eyes doe-like, stared up at him as you slowly stuck your tongue out.

You tapped the head of his length against your tongue, you were going to tease him. Scott didn’t deserve to get it how he wanted it, you slowly run the tip of your tongue from the head to the base then back again before spitting at the end.

He was trying not to moan, watching your every move like a predator stalking its prey. His thumb caressed your cheek as you eased him between your lips, gently nipping your teeth against his sensitive skin. This earned you a small groan from him, this was new, you hardly ever took the upper hand when it came to sex.

“Y/N, stop teasing.” He grumbled, getting flustered by the lack of contact that he wanted. You peered up to his eyes, seeing the sparkle glistening in his eyes from the lights outside.

Scott didn’t care much for people hearing and sometimes he didn’t care if anyone saw the two of you fuck, you were his girl and only his. He grabbed your hair in an attempt to get you to do what he asked. The game you were playing with him? Dangerous as hell.

You pulled your head away, gazing up at him like a deer in the headlights. The look he always loved seeing on you. “Stop fucking playin, Y/N…” He was becoming agitated.

“Who said I was playing, Scotty?” A small smirk finally appeared on your lips as his hand moved from your face to your hair in seconds, forcing you to be face-to-face with his now hardened length.

He was throbbing, you could see it with the way it moved like it had a pulse. Your tongue touched the tip, jumping in excitement over a little bit of contact. Your lips finally making the contact that he so longed for, wrapping around his length caused Scott to groan under his breath.

“Fuck..” Those words weren’t meant to be heard especially by you. He didn’t want you knowing that he had been missing you, his stubbornness stopped him from calling and texting you, refusing to sleep with any girl that threw themselves at him.

He gripped your hair and slowly began to thrust his hips as he forced you to bob your head against them, taking the upper hand like he always done. You gagged slightly, feeling him hit the back of your throat. It had been awhile, moaning against him before he pulled himself out.

He forced you up, pinning your back against the door as he roughly pulled your pants and panties off, standing on them to keep them in place so you could take them off without falling over. Scott grabbed your hand as he fell back against the couch, pulling you on top of his lap as he then eased himself inside of you.

A low groan fell from his lips as he held your hips tightly, allowing you to move when you wanted to. The feeling of him stretching you out caused a soft whimper to burst from your throat, you had missed this feeling of him inside of you.

You began to slowly rock your hips back and forth, each time you’d build more confidence in each roll forward. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you began to spell ‘coconut’ with your hips.

“Holy shit… Y/N, you been watching videos or some shit?” His eyes peered from under the hat, licking his lips as he thought about devouring you right there and then.

You laugh under your breath which turned into a moan as Scott began to thrust up inside of you. His hands holding your hips firmly still as his hip movements became faster. His groans were filling the empty spaces as you began to rub circular motions against your clit, you refused to let him be the only one to cum.

“Fuck… I can’t hold it anymore.” He mumbled, you took the hat from off his head and placed it onto your own.

Your hips began to move faster against his own movements. Your moans becoming louder as he quickly covered your mouth, grunting as he filled you with his thick, warm load. You whimper under your breath as you feel yourself tighten around him, releasing yourself all over him.

“Shit…” He chuckled quietly under his breath before placing a couple of soft kisses to your lips. “That was good.”

You hum in response and slowly slide him out. “What can I say? I missed it.” You placed the hat back on his head and pulled your panties n pants back on before heading outside again.

Everyone was staring over as you exited the trailer. “What?” You mumbled as Kyle came over.

“The entire team heard the two of you..” He laughed, acting as if he was embarrassed for us.

“What can I say? I like to save the horses and ride me a cowboy instead.”

#$crim #scrim #g59 #wetto #$uicideboy$#suicideboysfanfic #suicideboysmut #smut #ftp #slick sloth #$uicide christ

149 notes · View notes

sillyteenagegirlinlovewithblocks · 6 months ago

Text

All my head cannons for aphmau characters.°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Zvahl family.

Laurence is Italian.

He’s 5’11

Laurence is a charmer. flowers, dinner dates , stay in dates, anything romantic he gots it.

He’s very bi and is constantly confused. ( me to laur)

Laurence was a highlighter kid.

He has really bad Separate anxiety especially from partner.

He has an iPhone 8 and will keep that thing until he dies or it is dust. I mean like the screen is falling off a little it’s cracked and laggy.

He can’t do math or tell time on an actual clock.

He’s dyslexic. ( same same)

Because he grew up on a farm imma say he’s helped multiple animals give birth.

Never really had a crush on aphmau he thought he did but he was just jealous that garroth was putting his attention into her and not him.

Ro’Meave family.

garroth switched rooms with vlyd to have the room the laurances window faces.

I like to think garrote and Laurence are next door neighbors.

Non of the ro’Meave children were allowed animals growing up but that didn’t stop Zane from having a pet spider that his parents didn’t find out about until it died but it escaping and garte killing it since he thought a random tarantula just entered there house.( not that he wouldn’t kill it anyways if he knew it was a pet)

Zenix is one of the ro’mave brothers but he has a different mom and doesn’t live with them. That’s why he hates them sm. ( fuck garte and his cheating ass ) also Zenix looks a lot like garte but he dyes his hair and does makeup to make himself not look it.

(That’s also means Zenix is secretly a blonde. )

Zianna has forced all the boys to join an activity since they were 3.

Garroth joined a bunch of different sports but then baseball stuck for him.

Zane joined cooking.

Vylad did cooking, pottery, painting, soccer, ice skating but ultimately he ended up staying in fencing.

Garroth is the tallest out of everyone and gene is second tallest.

Garroth 6’2

Rodriguez family.

Genes real name is Eugene.

Gene and Dante don’t have the same dad.

Genes dad was abusive and left when he was 4.

Dante’s dad died before he was born in the military.

Gene is super cuddly in his sleep and he often cuddles Zenix in his sleep.

Sasha has a whole album of them cuddling together.

Dante and gene have there mothers last name.

Gene 6’0

Valkrum family.

Travis is German. ( me to buddy)

Travis and his dad are best friends and talk about everything together.

Shalashaska family.

In Mcd after aphamu I become Irene or got her relic a lot of people were upset with her due to previous prayers unanswered.

Gelula family.

Zenix and gene sleep fight due to there childhoods.

Zenix has a staring problem.

He lives with his mom.

Ashida family.

So I ignore the nickname Kawaii Chan and just call her nana so that’s how I am referr to her.

She has 15 siblings.

10 Boys and 5 girls.

She's a glass child.

She a middle child.

So I can't really think of more but maybe ill update if I do but for my last one Imma say Garroth got cadenza a fashion designing job because he’s rich and has friends in high places he just pestered all of them until someone was willing to take a look at her work and actually loved it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

#aphmau #garroth ro'meave #mcd laurance #garroth ro'meave x reader #mystreet laurance #mcd garroth #laurence zvhal #dante #garrothpdh #dante aphmau #nana aphmau #cadenza aphmau #vylad ro'meave #mcd vylad #zane aphmau #aphmau zenix

125 notes · View notes

ladymonterosa · 6 months ago

Text

Bound souls - Part 1

1. Maybe not everything is fine

Sitting at the back of the classroom, I tried to hide behind my cascade of red hair. Today's lesson dragged on slowly, like a winter day. The professor's words bounced off the walls, forming an indistinct murmur that couldn't penetrate the barrier of my thoughts. My mind wandered far from the yellowed pages of the classics, traveling to a more personal and troubled place.

My gaze kept falling on the screen of my iPhone, discreetly positioned next to my notebook. Occasionally, the screen lit up, but it was just a trivial notification, an app update, or a reminder. It had been weeks since I had heard from them, and every day the silence grew more deafening.

The professor's voice rose in tone to emphasize an important passage, briefly bringing me back to reality. I tried to concentrate, to grasp the thread of the discourse on William Blake's poetry, but it was like trying to hold sand in my hands. Every time a thought formed in my mind, another, more insistent one, replaced it. I glanced down at the open book, Blake's verses blurred like a forgotten dream. I picked up a pen and started doodling absentmindedly on the margins of the pages, the curved lines and small drawings reflecting my restless state of mind. A wave of frustration washed over me. My mind began to race, trying to find a plausible explanation. Maybe he was busy with his studies, or perhaps with his job as a technical assistant. But deep down, I knew something was wrong. Sure, it wasn't unusual for Jordan to ignore my messages, but when they found the time, they would respond, even if just with monosyllables. This time, though, the waiting time was longer than usual. It had been two weeks since our last meeting. I still remembered his bright smile and the warmth of his hand in mine. We had talked for hours as if the outside world didn't exist. Everything seemed so perfect. And now, this silence. A silence that felt like betrayal. Every day that passed without a word from him was like a small knife digging deeper into my heart.

I was tempted to send another message, to ask for explanations, but a voice inside me told me to stop because I knew they wouldn't appreciate it.

Sighing, I briefly closed my eyes, wondering if I had done something wrong, if there was a moment when I said or did something that pushed him away. I reviewed every conversation, every gesture, desperately trying to find an answer. But all I found was a maze of doubts and uncertainties.

The sound of a notification startled me. My heart began to beat faster as I grabbed my phone. My hands trembled slightly as I unlocked the screen, hoping with all my might that it was finally Jordan. But it wasn't the message I was waiting for. It was Marianna, sitting not far from me. Her message was brief and simple: "Everything okay?"

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and felt my shoulders drop, heavy with disappointment but also with slight relief. At least someone cared about me. I quickly replied, "Yes, everything's okay, thanks," even though I knew my clever friend wouldn't be so easily fooled.

I went back to staring at the blank screen, hoping the next sound would be the right one. At the end of the lesson, Marianna approached me with a caring smile. "Freya, is everything really okay?" she asked, putting a loving hand on my shoulder. I nodded, but my smile didn't reach my eyes.

"Come on, let's go get a smoothie at the new campus stand. They say they're delicious, and I think a break would do us good," Marianna suggested enthusiastically.

I hesitated for a moment, looking at my phone again. But then I decided she was right. Maybe a bit of distraction would help me stop obsessing over that message that wasn't coming. "Okay, let's go," I finally replied, trying to convince myself that a smoothie with Marianna was exactly what I needed right now.

*＊✿❀ ❀✿＊*

We arrived at the campus stand and ordered two fruit smoothies. Marianna chose a strawberry-banana mix, while I opted for a mango-pineapple smoothie. With our drinks in hand, we decided to go to the campus park to relax and enjoy the afternoon sun. We found a spot under a large tree and sat on the grass

I tried to focus on the conversation with Marianna, but my eyes kept returning to the screen of my iPhone. The phone remained silent, as if my words had gotten lost in the digital abyss of nothingness. Marianna noticed my distraction and, after a while, decided to confront me. Putting her smoothie down and looking me in the eyes, she asked, "Freya, what's wrong?"

I tried to force a smile, but I knew it wouldn't fool anyone. "Nothing. It's just… I've had a bit of a complicated day, but it will pass." Marianna sighed, knowing I wasn't telling the whole truth. "Freya, I know you too well. This has to do with Jordan, doesn't it?"

I could no longer avoid the question. I lowered my gaze, nervously playing with my smoothie. "Yes," I finally admitted. "I haven't heard from him in weeks. I don't know what happened. Everything seemed perfect, and then… silence."

The blonde looked at me with understanding but also with a hint of disappointment. "Freya, I've always told you what I think of Jordan. His reputation on campus isn't the best, and you know it well. They're not reliable, and they only care about themselves and their ranking. I don't want you to suffer because of someone like that."

Her words hit me like a cold shower. "But Marianna, Jordan isn't like they describe. With me, it's different, really."

She shook her head, the disappointment evident. "Maybe he made you believe so, but look where you are now. You're wasting your time and energy on someone who doesn't deserve you. You're one of the most popular and intelligent girls on campus. You deserve better, someone who is reliable and caring, not someone like Jordan who disappears without explanations."

I felt a knot tighten in my chest. "But what should I do? I can't stop hoping everything will go back to how it was."

Marianna smiled at me affectionately, but with a determination I had never seen before. "You need to think about yourself, Freya. Your happiness can't depend on someone who doesn't respect you. Find someone who appreciates you for who you are, who is there for you in difficult times, and who doesn't leave you in this limbo of uncertainty."

I took a sip of my smoothie, enjoying the sweet and refreshing taste. The mango and pineapple blended in a symphony of flavors that brought me back to reality, at least for a moment. Maybe Marianna was right. Maybe it was time to stop waiting and start living.

Seeing that her words had started to make an impact, Marianna decided to seize the moment. "Listen, there's a student party tonight. I've heard it will be a lot of fun, with live music and many of our friends. Why don't you come with me? It could be the first step to freeing yourself from the memory of Jordan and having some fun."

I hesitate for a moment, the thought of going to a party while feeling so vulnerable scares me. But then an idea takes root in my mind. I look at Marianna, her encouraging smile and her hand extended towards me. "Alright," I finally say. "Let's go to this party. Maybe you're right, a bit of distraction will do me good."

Marianna smiles, visibly relieved. "Great! It'll be fun, I promise. And who knows, maybe you'll meet someone interesting."

We exchange a mischievous smile as we get up to head back to campus. If my friend knew what I really had in mind, I'm sure she would kill me once and for all.

＊✿❀ ❀✿＊

The evening falls quickly, and I find myself in front of the mirror getting ready. I'm wearing a simple black dress that's tight in all the right places, paired with white stiletto sandals. I've decided to leave my hair down. As a final touch, I have cat eyes and bright red lipstick. Marianna is waiting for me at the door, ready and radiant.

We arrive at the club, where the energy is contagious. The music fills the air and the rhythm is irresistible. Marianna guides me through the crowd towards a group of people she knows. "Freya, meet Alex and Tom," she says, pointing to the two guys. Alex is tall and blonde, with a contagious smile, while Tom is shorter, with dark hair and lively eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Freya," says Alex, extending his hand to me. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Nice to meet you too," I reply, shaking his hand.

Tom looks at me with wide eyes. "Wait a minute... are you Freya Hill, the famous actress?"

I nod slightly, a bit embarrassed. "Yes, that's me."

Tom grins widely and pulls out a notebook and pen from his backpack. "Could I get an autograph? I'm a big fan of yours!"

I laugh and take the pen, signing the notebook. "Sure, here you go."

Tom seems over the moon, but it's Alex who really captures my attention. "It must be incredible to be a movie star and attend university at the same time. How do you manage it all?" he asks, genuinely interested.

"Yes, it's quite challenging," I respond. "But I like the idea of having a normal life and studying like everyone else."

Alex smiles, moving slightly closer. "Well, I must say that's really impressive. You know, you're even more beautiful in person."

I feel my cheeks blush slightly. "Thank you," I murmur, feeling a strange mix of nervousness and excitement.

Marianna watches the scene with a mischievous smile. "Freya, do you want something to drink? I'm going to the bar with Tom to get something."

I nod. "Yes, please. A Virgin Mojito for me."

As Marianna and Tom head towards the bar, Alex moves even closer. "So, Freya, what do you like to do when you're not on set or in class?"

I smile, feeling a bit more at ease. "Well, I like to read, especially great classics like Pride and Prejudice or Wuthering Heights. And I love traveling and taking photographs. What about you? What do you like to do in your free time?"

"I love hiking. There's something special about getting lost in nature, away from the chaos of the city. And I'm a big music enthusiast. I play bass in a local band."

"Wow, that sounds fantastic," I reply. "I'd love to hear you play someday."

"Maybe we can arrange something," Alex says with a charming smile. "You know, it's rare to find someone you can talk to so easily."

I nod, feeling a connection growing between us. "Yes, it is. It's nice to meet someone interesting."

We start chatting, and I find out that Alex is not only funny but also fascinating. We talk about everything, from favorite movies to personal passions, and I realize that I'm starting to relax and enjoy the evening.

When Marianna returns with the drinks alongside Tom, she sees Alex so close to me. "It looks like you're already making progress," she whispers in my ear, making me laugh.

After drinking part of my drink, I feel the need to go to the bathroom. I excuse myself from the two guys and Marianna and head towards the club's restroom. I enter the bathroom, the noise of the music muffled by the walls. As I approach the sink to fix my hair, I look up and am left speechless.

In front of me, reflected in the mirror, is Jordan Li in her female form. My heart starts pounding, a myriad of questions and feelings overwhelming me. "Jordan... what are you doing here?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

Jordan approaches with a tense expression. "What, I can't come to a club without your permission?" she replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

My breath becomes shallow; I didn't expect to find her here, let alone so angry. "That's not what I meant. It's just... it's strange to see you here."

She steps closer with a determined stride, her eyes never leaving mine. "Strange, huh? Like that little scene you were putting on with those two? What was that, innocent fun?" Her voice is sharp, each word a jab.

I feel caught off guard. "Jordan, we were just talking. There's nothing wrong with that."

She shakes her head, her face contorted with frustration. "Just talking, sure. And I'm supposed to believe that?"

I stiffen, trying to stay calm. "They're just friends. It's none of your business, anyway."

"None of my business?" Jordan responds, raising her voice.

Anger starts to rise within me, fueled by her hypocrisy. "It's not! Jordan, you're the one who disappeared! Without a word, without explanations. And now you come here to make a scene?"

She takes a step forward, her hands clenched into fists. "I've been busy."

"Busy? Jordan, you just decided to vanish. You can't do that and expect me to wait around without knowing anything."

A heavy silence falls between us, broken only by the distant thump of the music. Jordan lowers her gaze, the tension slipping away from her body, replaced by something else. Then, she looks up again, this time with a mocking smile on her lips.

"I think I get it, you know? Tonight, you came here with a specific goal in mind. A little revenge, perhaps? You decided to pay attention to those two idiots to get noticed by me and make me pay for my lack of attention towards you."

Even though she had caught me off guard, I feign indignation. "Are you kidding? Believe me, Jordan, not everything revolves around you and your paranoias. I don't need games to show you how angry I am."

She steps forward, closing the distance between us. "Oh, really?"

Her closeness makes me feel a mix of anger and desire, but I can't give in. "I have the right to go out and have fun with whoever I want, and I don't need your approval to do it."

Jordan moves even closer, reducing the distance between us to just a few centimeters. "Maybe," she whispers as she brushes my hair with her fingertips, "Tell me... would you feel the same if I told you that I've missed you terribly these past weeks and that I want you to come back to my dorm to show you how sorry I am?"

Her warm breath touches my skin, and for a moment, the temptation to accept her proposal makes its way into my mind. But if I want to win the war, I can't be easily swayed. I gather all my strength, keeping my gaze steady on hers. "I'm tempted, I admit. But it will be another time, Jordan. Someone else will think of consoling me tonight."

"Someone else?" she repeats, her voice cracking.

"Yes," I reply decisively, leaving her speechless. But, as I turn to leave and return to the party, something, or rather someone, grabs my arm, stopping me. I turn back towards her in a fury, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

They don't respond, at least not with words. Jordan takes a deep breath, while her grip on my arm tightens. Before I can react in any way, I find myself pressed between her and the wall, with her lips on mine.

It's clear that something is wrong with me.

Every time I see they, it's as if my brain turns off the reason switch and turns on the chaos switch. My heart beats faster, my thoughts get tangled, and I'm overwhelmed by a myriad of undefined sensations. It's as if they had a power over me, a power that I can't explain or control.

Marianna is right. I should protect myself, build a wall around my heart, and keep they out forever. And yet, here I am, once again in their arms.

They always manage to get into my head, to manipulate my emotions. It's as if they had a power over me, something I can't break. She makes me feel vulnerable, confused. Every time I promise myself it will be the last, that I won't fall into her trap again. And every time I fail.

Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I'm the one who can't put an end to this story, to say enough once and for all. But how do you do it? How do you leave everything behind when every fiber of your being is tied to her? When even the mere thought of losing her completely breaks your heart?

I need to find a way to regain control, if not of my heart, then of my actions. With an effort, I push her away, breathing heavily.

"You can't always behave like this, Jordan," I say, my voice trembling.

Jordan looks at me, breathing heavily, her eyes fixed on mine. For a moment, I think she's about to say something, but then she just shakes her head. "You have five minutes," she says, her voice sharp. "Five minutes to meet me in the car and leave with me. If you decide not to, I'll leave."

Their ultimatum hit me like a punch in the stomach. I stand still, my heart pounding in my chest, as she walks away, leaving me alone in the bathroom. The door closes behind her with a sharp sound, and the noise of the music fills the space again.

Indignant at their attitude, I decide to ignore her. I walk out of the bathroom with a determined step, ready to return to my friends and enjoy the evening. Who does they think are? I hadn't realized how arrogant they were... did they really expect that with an ultimatum like that I would run away with them? If so, then they are in for an unpleasant surprise. I head towards the table, trying to push her words and touch out of my mind.

But every step I take, every sound of laughter and music around me, seems to make me rethink what she said. The way she looked at me... I can't shake it off.

When I reach the table, Marianna greets me with a smile, but I'm lost in my thoughts. "Everything okay?" she asks, noticing my troubled expression.

"Yes, everything's fine," I reply mechanically, but inside me, a battle rages. And common sense has lost.

I excuse myself again, this time without explanations. I walk away from the table, heading towards the club's exit.

As soon as I step outside, the cool night air hits me. I look around for Jordan's car and see it parked a little way off, with her leaning against the hood, arms crossed, eyes fixed on me.

I approach slowly, my heart pounding wildly. "You've decided to come," says Jordan, with a triumphant smile on her face.

"Don't be too sure of yourself," I reply, trying to keep a firm tone. But she seems to ignore my warning.

When I get close to the car, Jordan gallantly opens the door for me. "Please," she says with a theatrical gesture, the smile still on her lips.

I get in the car, feeling her gaze on me. I close the door with a slight huff, giving her a stern look. "Don't think this means you've won," I say, as she gets into the driver's seat and starts the engine.

Jordan smiles again, this time with a touch of sweetness. "I think I just did, freshman." Part 2

#gen v #jordan li #jordan li x reader #gen v fic #jordan li imagine #fanfic writing #jordan li x you

60 notes · View notes

iosnextgen · 13 days ago

Text

0 notes

scoongleboongle · 1 year ago

Text

UPDATE: I AM NOW SET!! THANK YOU!!

Due to my grandfathers passing in September, we no longer have cell service as of today because he helped to pay the family plan. I am currently applied for multiple jobs, however, I urgently need money to pay for a prepaid plan, so I can continue to have a phone number for said jobs. I should only need enough to get through the next two months, but if I'm able to get extra, I might go for a new phone as well since my iPhone is in the end of its life.

Edit; apparently my phone wasn't paid off yet, so i am gonna need $200 or $300 for a replacement 100%.

CASHAPP AND PAYPAL ARE: $LilacLulamoon/@LilacLulamoon respectively.

#mutual aid #please boost

203 notes · View notes

cierraonline · 2 months ago

Text

A Short Elf Apocalypse

Chapter three - 01x02 Light Bulb

Warning - none

masterlist | previous | next

“So, how's your first week going so far?” asked Viola Banks, the fifty-year-old mother of the twenty-three-year-old eighth-grade teacher.

“The exact answer I gave you when I was attending the school as a student,” Siren commented, opening the heavy front doors to the building of her workplace—and nightmare. “Nothing has changed, and nothing ever will, Mom.”

“Well, something did change. You aren’t a student anymore,” the optimistic voice of the older woman rang through the speaker of the teacher's iPhone. “I’m sure this feels a little like being a superhero in the dark pit hole you call a soul.”“You read through my 10th-grade diary again, didn’t you?” Siren stopped in her tracks, recognizing the reference in her mother’s words.

“Hey, I’ve got to get some mothering in, now that you’ve moved out to live with your wife…who you’ve been married to for two years…why did you wait to move in with her again?”

“I like going at my own pace, not the standard,” Siren rolled her eyes. “But if you really want an update on how life as a teacher has been, here it is: So far, I've got this annoying little elf always trying to talk to me and make me part of her clique with her and this wannabe Sheldon.

“Who, Janine and Jacob?” Her mother cut her off. “They’re nice people. You should befriend them! I like them better than your current friends, whose only goals in life are smoking the devil’s evaporation (hookah) and shaking their tail feathers as if they’re having seizures (twerking). Janine and Jacob are the kind of friends you need.”

“Janine and Jacob are the kind of friends an Alzheimer’s patient needs, so they can forget they ever met them.” As Siren walked down the hall toward the lounge for her morning coffee, her attention was drawn to a random little girl holding her hand while staring up at the flickering lights. “And now, thanks to this crappy building, we’ve got flickering lights recreating ‘The Shining’, and I have a random child holding my hand.”

“Sounds like a beautiful day at Abbott to me,” her mother’s smile was audible through the phone.

“Yeah, so why don’t you come back?” the teacher sarcastically responded.

“Oh no, I’m packing for the Bahamas. I’m going to enjoy my retirement. Tell Barbara and Melissa I’ll have a bottle of imported wine and fine cheese waiting for them when I get back.”

“You mean that cheap wine on your kitchen counter and sliced block cheddar cheese?” Siren deflated her mother’s fancy image with reality.

“Shoot, $8 for a bottle and $5 for some cheese—it’s fancy to me. Love you, baby, have an inspiring day.”

“Love you too, Mommy.” With that, the call ended.

“You call your mommy, ‘Mommy’, too?” The girl still holding Siren’s hand looked up with wide eyes.

“Girl, don’t you have lights to be scared of?” Siren snarked.

“Oh yeah,” the little girl, probably in second grade, turned her terrified gaze back to the lights.

“Guys, the lights in the back hallway have been out for weeks,” Siren heard Janine’s squeaky, annoying voice as she entered the teacher’s lounge.

“Thank you for the update.”

“What are you wearing?”

“And we need to do something about it. Okay?” Janine stayed focused, ignoring their side comments. “Uh, Melina, from your class… Yeah, she was afraid to come to school this morning. Said it looked like ‘The Shining’, and I don’t even get how she knows that reference.”

“She loves ‘The Shining.’ It's a classic movie,” Jacob added.

“You mean her?” Siren made her presence known, holding up the hand of the girl who refused to let go.

“Melina, I thought I walked you to class already?” Janine turned to the little girl.

“But then I had to pee!” Melina exclaimed in a childlike voice. “Plus, she looked scary, so she can scare away the monsters,” she pointed to Siren. Bending down to meet the girl’s eyes with an intense stare, Siren tilted her head and said, “Boo,” nonchalantly.

“Ahhh!” The student screamed, letting go of her hand and running out the teacher’s lounge.

“Siren!” Barbara scolded her goddaughter, to which she received only a shrug in response.

“This isn’t okay, alright? And I already talked to Mr. Johnson, and he said there’s nothing he can do,” Janine brought the attention back to her concern.

“What do you want us to do about it?” Barbara asked the naïve teacher.

“It can’t be hard. It’s just screwing in a few new bulbs.”

“So why don’t you do it?” Siren walked over to make herself a cup of coffee, adding sweetened almond milk and dropping in a caramel hard candy. “Why does it have to be a group project?”

“Because we’re a team,” Janine smiled.

“And you’re the only one on the team complaining about the lights,” Siren pointed out.

“Janine, just worry about what can be controlled,” the kindergarten teacher emphasized.

“Exactly. On a hot day like this, all we can do is our own jobs anyway,” Melissa added.

“I know that’s right!” Ava walked into the lounge. “Why is it February and hotter than the devil’s bootyhole outside?”

“Climate change,” Siren and Jacob said in unison.

“We’re living in the middle of its disastrous effects,” Jacob continued. “The permafrost in Russia—”

“Nerd,” Ava fake-coughed into her fist.

“Ava, can someone from the city come and check on the back hallway lights?” Janine turned to her.

“Girl, no. Do I look like the Kool-Aid Man? I don’t have enough juice to manipulate the inner workings of City Hall,” Ava retorted. “They’ll probably come in the summer.”

“In the summer?” Janine was disheartened.

“Tough break.” Jacob walked over to the upset teacher with a container of breakfast food. “Want some egg white bites?” he offered as Melissa and Barbara left after the principal.

“No. I don’t have time to eat,” Janine replied, giving him a look up and down.

“They’re just egg white bites. You microwave them,” he called after her, before turning to the only teacher left in the lounge besides him. “Want some, Siren?”

“You got hot sauce?” Siren asked, not even looking up from her TikTok feed, filled with WNBA coverage and tattoo artists’ work.

“No,” Jacob shook his head.

“Then no.”

XXX

“Alright, I let you guys eat your breakfast and freshen up—it’s my time now,” Siren declared, walking into her classroom to see her students scattered around, sitting and ready to learn. “First lesson of the year that doubles as your English and History. Half of the class will read “The Diary of a Young Girl” by Anne Frank, and the other half will read “Chains” by Laurie Halse Anderson.”

“Why are we reading two different books?” Mason raised his hand, confused, as teachers usually had the class read the same book.

“So we can get through the reading material the board wants you to read faster and move on to the better stuff. Plus, for your first History lesson, you’ll use your assigned book as a primary source and other books in the school’s library as secondary sources for your first Socratic seminar. You’ll debate which event in history was worse: holocaust or slavery.” Siren walked behind her desk, bringing out two stacks of newly purchased books, ten of each.

“Do we get to pick which book we want to read?” Candace asked from the couch area.

“Nope. When you’re older, whether it’s for college research papers or if you want to be a lawyer, you won’t always get to defend the side you want. This will also help you knock out biases.” Siren took the first stack of books and handed them out to ten of her students at random. “This assignment will take two weeks. One week to read and gather research, and the second week to prepare your arguments and anticipate counterarguments. During English, you’ll be reading, and during History, you’ll conduct research in the library.”

“Are you going to be the judge?” Jahmil asked.

“There will be two judges—me, and a teacher I can slightly stand.”

“What are the rules?” Javon raised his hand.

“The rules are: One, no profanity. Two, no sharing argument points. Three, do not take this lesson outside of class and start harmful debates. Four, actually listen to what each side has to say.”

“Siren,” Kyle raises his hand.

“Yes, Kyle.”

“Can I talk to you outside the classroom?” The boy looked around at his peers with a nervous stance.

“Sure,” Siren nods. “In the meantime, all of you get started. First period starts now. As you read, take notes; that’s how you will be graded in the English portion.” As the class got started on their assignment, in which they were actually excited to partake, the teacher and student stepped outside for a private discussion. “What’s wrong, Kyle?”

“I–I don’t feel comfortable doing this assignment… because you know, I–I’m…”

“White?”

“Yeah.” The student nodded his head.

“Okay, let me ask you a few questions,” Siren took a seat on the hallway floor, and the student followed. “Were you there during slavery?”

“No,” Kyle shook his head.

“Were you there during the Holocaust?”

“No.”

“Do you agree with those who promoted those horrific events?”

“Of course not,” Kyle looked at the teacher as if she were crazy.

“Do you agree with modern interpretations or developments of those ideologies?”

“Huh?” He looked confused.

“Do you agree with the mindset of those who are racists or follow Nazi ideology?” Siren rephrased.

“Oh, no.”

“Then you have nothing to feel uncomfortable or guilty about due to the color of your skin. In fact, that’s why I gave you “Chains.” There’s more to being white in a classroom of predominantly Black students—there’s an opportunity to be an ally. Because one day, your classmates right now are going to be in your position, where they might be the only Black student in a predominantly white class.”

“My grandparents voted for Trump. Does that mean I’ll also have to vote Republican?” Kyle asked.

“What’s your grandparents’ favorite cereal?”

“Raisin Bran… it’s so not cool or good.”

“But you see how they might love it, but you don’t. Opinions work like that. The beautiful thing about opinions is that we’re not supposed to agree on everything, or life would be boring. They can try to force their opinions on you, but as long as you keep that big brain of yours working, your opinions will always be yours.”

“Thank you, Siren,” Kyle smiled, feeling better than he had before the conversation.

“You’re welcome. Now go inside and get started on your reading,” Siren directed him, and he got up from the floor and headed back into the class.

“Ha! And you said teaching wasn’t meant for you,” a feminine voice pulled Siren out of her concentration.

“How long have you been sitting there?” Siren squinted her eyes at the senior teacher.

“Long enough to see the student become the teacher,” Barbara smirked, looking down at her goddaughter. “You might not have wanted to do this, but you’re really making an impact on those kids. It’s been two days, and they haven’t even given Ava trouble yet. Teaching is a calling, and you unknowingly answered. You didn’t do it because your mother forced you; you did it because it’s in your blood and heart. It’s like watching a flashback of me and your mother when we first started. I’m proud of you,” Barbara said in her saintly voice.

“Why does it feel like you’re still teaching me?” Siren tilted her head.

“Because the teaching never stops, no matter how old you are.”

XXX

The classroom was at peace. The kids were engrossed in their reading materials, while a soft, chill playlist from YouTube played in the background. Everything was going smoothly while Siren prepared for the math lesson scheduled in thirty minutes. And then disaster struck—the lights went out. Siren had a good idea who the culprit was.

“Oh no! It’s the apocalypse!” Javon jumped from his seat and started running around, pulling down the shades and looking for a flashlight.

“Javon, the power just went out; nothing serious,” Siren tried to calm the boy. “If anything, it’s just a short ‘elf apocalypse.’” Siren stated, standing up from her seat. “You guys stay here, take a break from reading, and I’ll go try not to kill an elf.” With that, she exited the classroom and headed down two flights of stairs.

“Where is she?” Siren stomped in her leather heels like Ursula, as if the sea itself parted to let her walk through in terror. In fright, everyone in the hall pointed to the shorter teacher. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You just had to put your little kid hands on anything so it fits your idea.”

“I–I just wanted—”

“I don’t care what you wanted,” Siren cut her off. “I care about what you interrupted. The light wasn’t bothering anyone besides one student who’s a little kid. Of course flickering lights scare her because it’s connected to a horror movie. All you had to do was walk her to class and follow your training on what to do when a little kid is scared: distract from the little details and look at the big picture.”

“I–I…”

“You don’t get to talk anymore because soon you’re going to make your next move, try to fix your mess, and make a bigger mess.”

“Alright, Siren, that’s enough. I’m sure Janine understands that what she did was very foolish,” Barbara tried to reign in her goddaughter’s wrath. “Listen up, everybody…”

“Listen to Barbara, y’all!” Ava shouted, frantically shouts while shaking the wooden ladder Janine was gluing herself to.

“Are you kidding me?” Janine clutched onto the ladder as she was afraid of heights.

“I should push it. Maybe you’ll break your leg, and that’ll stop you from Janine-ing up the place,” Siren glared at the frightened woman.

“This is what we’re gonna do… Everyone without power, please head to the gym,” Barbara directed the teachers.

“Head,” Ava emphasized.

“We’ll conduct classes there until this is all fixed. It’s not ideal, but it will work.”

“You heard her. Let’s go,” Ava nodded.

“Guys… I just want to say, I’m sorry, everybody,” Janine tried to apologize. “I just thought if I could get up here and get this done, then we wouldn’t have to wait and…”

“And look where it landed us, baby girl.”

“Yeah, how’d that work out for you?”

“Everybody, please, head to the gym,” Barbara announced. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry now.”

“Oh, Jesus! My branzino!” Melissa’s realization hit, and in the next second, she was running down the hall to the teacher’s lounge. “Everybody out of the way! Out of the way!”

“If someone could please help me?” Janine called out. “I feel like I’m one wobble away from death.”

“A–Alright. Okay. I got you,” Gregory moved to help but was beaten by Siren pushing one side of the ladder, causing it to fold. Janine fell a couple of feet to the floor, sprawled out.

“There,” Siren muttered before walking away.

“Thank you,” Janine whimpered in pain. “I don’t think she likes me much.”

“That would be an understatement,” Gregory added.

taglist @jules19sstuff @babytakeittothehead @calibabyyyy @crybabysdeadbunny @toxicslut-1 @starstruckdinosaurcandy @delulu-lesbian @notmeellaannyy @mystical-april @severia21 @hwh-dawn @bone-app-the-teeth @casualfoxwitch @lordfarquad-k @honeypiperpizza123 @gwendolinechristierulez @pinkininja @oculusalien @zendayasredbottoms @tacoboutstuff @jules19sstuff @siyuziii @christiniawcb @riddlette13 @thebignunfun @xxloveralways14 @lordfarquad-k @rhearipley-69 @danversrailme @amberg1998 @zzzz-zzz1 @htttpcasti @lidiyabest @wwelovergirl @lesbianpoetess @jamiemundy7773 @pixelorange06 @steampunkprincess147 @brbblog123 @h3artss44le @harajukub4rb1e @billiesrighthand @natasha29romanoff @deathvidal

28 notes · View notes

mermaidgirl30 · 8 months ago

Text

✨Dancing With Fire Part 6: Coming Home✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long to get updated, but it’s finally here! I love this story so much, and it’s one of my favorites I have ever written. Let me know what you think 🩵

Chapter Summary: You go back home to Florida for the weekend to take a break from the chaos of the ballet company and to make a decision that might take everything you’ve worked so hard to get.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Chapter Tags: Flirting, angst, fluff, reader goes back home to Florida for the weekend, tough decisions, protective Joel, sweet Joel, no use Y/N, Joel comforts reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The week went by slowly as rain drenched the crowded streets of New York. You didn’t stay a minute at your apartment all week, you only stayed with Joel at his place. Where it was safe, where it felt right, where it felt like home.

Home. You were going home today. Back to Florida where you belonged. You missed the white sandy beaches, missed your parents, missed your own bed. But you’d be there in a few hours. Home was right around the corner.

As Joel drove you to the airport, you couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful features as you watched him flex his hand around the leather steering wheel. You watched as his soft brown eyes flicked back and forth between you and the damp road up ahead, watched as he took his hand and ran it in slow circles over your thigh, watched as he slowly brought your hand up to his plush lips as he gently kissed the back of your knuckles as warmth coated your insides with nothing but love. You could stay like this forever, watching him drive while you were in the passenger seat just being in his presence. That was enough to keep you smiling.

You were pulled from your deep thoughts as Joel stopped the truck in front of the large airport, parking under an awning as he turned the engine off. He pulled the key from the ignition and turned to you slowly, giving you a soft smile as he grazed your thigh one more time.

“You ready?” he asked as he looked at you with deep brown eyes. You nodded your head up and down and gave him a gentle smile. “Let’s go then, pretty girl.”

He threw his seatbelt off and grabbed your pink rolling suitcase from the backseat as you climbed out of the truck and slammed the door shut, hurrying through the sliding doors before you got caught in the pouring rain.

Joel followed you through as he rolled your suitcase in and set it down next to you. “You got your boarding pass and your ID?” he asked as he watched you get them out of the pockets of your jeans, slipping them back in as he nodded an okay. “What about your iPhone charger? You got that?”

You laughed as you pointed to your suitcase. “It’s right in there. Wanna ask me if I got anything else?”

“Nah, think you’re golden,” he said as he flashed you a dazzling smile. He was always so beautiful when he smiled. It always made the crow’s feet pull at the corners of his bright eyes and made his dimples display which you loved.

You stayed standing there a minute, scuffing your sneakers against the polished floors as you listened to overhead announcements about outgoing flights. Joel ran his hand through his tousled curls and took a step forward, his toes meeting yours.

“You ready?” he asked as you looked up into his calm brown eyes.

“Not really,” you said as you shook your head back and forth. The truth was, flights made you nervous, and you also weren’t ready to leave him. Even if it was just for two days.

“How come? Flights make you nervous?”

“Yeah, but that’s not all. I’m also… I’m also gonna miss you,” you said quietly as you furrowed your brows together, looking at the floor as if you could see your own reflection through the shine of the tiles.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and grazed his calloused fingers down your jawline, filling you with warmth the longer he did it. “You’ll be jus’ fine, darlin’. It’s jus’ two days,” he said encouragingly as he continued to gaze at you with big brown eyes, eyes you wanted to drown in.

“Two days is an awfully long time without you…” you sighed, eyes glistening as you felt a tear trying to escape the back of your eye. You wouldn’t let it.

It was only two days. What the fuck was wrong with you? Two days. But lately you’d been spending all your time with Joel, so even days apart seemed like weeks to you now.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he huffed as he dragged his thumb along your lower lip, tracing the edge as he concentrated on your pink lips, like he was studying every inch of them to burn into his memory. “I’m gonna miss ya too, sunshine.”

With that, he pulled you into a tight hug as he threw his arms around you and you crashed against his broad chest, arms going around his back as you breathed in his fresh soap smell and of course his coffee scent.

“You be sure to text me as soon as you land, okay?” he said as he pulled back and entwined his fingers around yours as you squeezed his large hands.

“I will, I promise,” you nodded.

“Good. Jus’ try to relax a little this weekend, okay? Clear your mind. Have fun with your mother and get some sun,” he said as he trailed his thumb against the back of your hand in soothing circles, making your nerves lessen the more he did it.

“I will, Joel. Promise.”

He nodded and cupped your chin as he lifted your face to his and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, making your heart soar out the window. When he released his lips from yours, he glanced back into your eyes, studying you as he took in your dreamy stare.

“I wish I could take you with me. You don’t think you can fit in my suitcase, do you?” you teased as he squeezed your hand and chuckled lightly.

“I don’t think so, baby. Looks like you gotta go without me.”

“Yeah, guess so…” you said back quietly, eyes gazing down at the white tiles as sadness started to fill the pit of your stomach. Joel must’ve noticed because he looked like he was trying to reassure you.

“Hey, you’re gonna be jus’ fine. The flight is gonna be smooth, and you’re gonna have the best time bein’ back home. So don’t you dare give me those sad eyes, I won’t allow it,” he replied as he lifted your chin to meet his deep eyes.

“Oh, you won’t allow it? Is that right?” you laughed, challenging him to the question.

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

“So, what are you gonna do about it then?” you smirked, eyebrow raising as a small smile pulled at his lips.

“Gonna have to do this.” He cupped the back of your head and sank his lips down to yours as he caressed and gently nipped at your bottom lip, getting lost in the weight of his kiss.

You broke apart from him when you heard the overhead intercom say that Tampa was boarding in thirty minutes, meaning your time with Joel was up.

You looked up sadly as he gave you a crooked smile. “Guess you better go then. Gotta go catch your flight,” he said slowly as you nodded your head back.

“Yeah, I guess I should.”

He stepped up and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as he slid his hands down your arms, his fingers curling around yours. “Well, guess I should let you go on. Don’t wanna miss your flight.”

“No, don’t want that,” you answered back hesitantly.

He grazed his knuckles against your jawline and took a step back as all the warmth left your body the further he stepped away from you. You felt hot tears lick the edges of your eyes, but you held them in. Be strong, be strong.

“Have a safe flight, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.”

You watched him take four steps closer to the sliding doors, and you felt your heart beat unsteadily against your chest. You didn’t want him to go, but he needed to. He needed to let you get to your flight.

Without thinking, you called out his name before he could take another step toward the door. “Joel?”

He turned back toward you slowly as he knitted his eyebrows together, his honey eyes finding yours. “Yeah?” he asked, waiting for some sort of question. You had none though, you just wanted to be in his arms.

You dropped the suitcase handle and ran to him, immediately throwing your arms around his back as you knocked into his broad chest, feeling his strong arms slowly circle around you as he breathed you in deeply.

“Haven’t even made it to the door yet, and you already miss me that much?” he chuckled as he placed another kiss to the top of your head gently.

“Mhm,” you hummed, not willing to let him go just yet.

“C’mon, sunshine. You’re gonna miss your flight. You’ll be fine,” he reassured you as you unhooked your arms from him and took one hesitant step back.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” you laughed as you sighed once more, taking a good look at Joel as you memorized every golden brown fleck in his eyes and mapped out every single line on his face.

“Alright then, go on,” he instructed as he squeezed your hand once more and gently released, dropping his fingers from yours slowly.

“Bye, Joel,” you whispered as you turned, sighing at the aching feeling that was pulling hard in your gut.

Before you took another step, Joel reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back again as he circled your hips and planted his lips firmly over yours. The kiss was passionate, desperate, a wildfire that was burning out of control, but you loved it. You loved him. It was smothering any doubts and anxiety that were flooding your crowded mind, always, every time his lips were slotting against yours.

When he finally released his lips from yours, he rested his forehead against yours, pressing his lips gently to your crown as he gave you one last kiss. “I love you, pretty girl,” he whispered, sending tingles down your spine as the words sounded like music to your ears. God, you loved him so much.

“I love you too, Joel. So much,” you breathed, pressing your forehead into his for just a few more seconds, letting all your worries fade away with his gentle touch. He grabbed your hand and brushed his lips across your knuckles, saying goodbye one last time before you had to leave.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see you in two days. Remember, text me as soon as you land,” he yelled as he started heading for the door. You waved goodbye and promised to text him as soon as you got into Tampa.

You started heading for your gate and turned back around once more, taking one more good look at him. He turned around and smiled gently, pushing his curls away from his forehead as he turned to disappear through the sliding doors. You sighed as you lost sight of him and decided you needed to go.

As soon as you were through the gates, handing your ticket to the attendant and taking your window seat on board, you let your mind wander back to Joel. Maybe that would help calm your racing thoughts and nervous palpitations.

You took out your phone and slid your thumb across the unlock bar and pulled up your photo album. You clicked on the last picture and smiled as you took in you and Joel at the beach. Joel’s smile and indented dimple flashed across the screen while his strong arms were braced around your hips as he hugged you tightly to his chest. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at the picture, remembering the best beach date you’d ever had in your life. And it was all because of Joel, your sweet boyfriend, the man that had saved you from your own self. The man that reached his arm down through the raging hurricane when you were drowning and pulled you back to dry land. He was your savior, the one you were meant to find all along.

Once the plane started to take off, you relaxed into the back of the leather seat and closed your eyes. The pilot’s voice echoed around the plane, but you couldn’t hear him. All you could hear and see was Joel’s bravado voice and his sweet smile. Everything was peaceful, safe, still as you took off and faded into a deep sleep.

When you stepped out of the Tampa airport, the Florida humidity hit you with a welcome home hot breeze. The shiny sweat from the muggy air stuck to your forehead, and you knew you were home. You let the blazing sun shine down on you as you tipped your head back and welcomed the warmth on your New York pale skin. You could use the sunshine after being in the cold and stuck inside a theater all day.

The familiar silver SUV came to a complete stop in front of the Southwest Airlines sign and that small tug in your gut seemed to alert you that this was it. You were truly home. Your mom scrambled out of the car with her floral tank top and favorite Jean capris she always wore when she was lounging at home. The sight seemed to blanket you in comfort as she walked behind the car and up to the cement block where you were.

Her face lightened up as she smiled brightly and sighed out in relief. “Honey?”

“Mom!” You ran over and wrapped your arms around her back as you felt warmth consume your body. All the pent up frustration, sadness, anxiety, tiredness, and emotions flooded you all at once, and tears started spilling out of your eyes as she embraced your body.

“Mom, I missed you so much,” you cried into her shoulder, shedding all the tears on her floral tank top as she ran a hand gently down the back of your hair.

“Oh, sweetie. I missed you more. My poor baby,” she said as she wiped the free falling tears from your face. “Come on now. Let’s get you home. I’ve got some dinner ready for us. Let’s just get you settled, okay?”

You nodded as she grabbed your luggage and hauled it into the backseat. You took your place in the passenger seat as you shifted into the leather and buckled the seatbelt over your shoulder. When she was situated in the driver’s seat, you watched her start the car up as the engine rumbled to life, and then she was pulling out on the busy streets of Tampa.

“So, how was the flight?” she asked as she got over into the left hand lane.

“It was fine. I mostly slept, so it was a smooth flight.”

“Good, that’s good. I’m glad you made it safe, sweetie.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the ride was quiet as you focused on the passing palm trees that towered in the sky and on the blue, clear skies that filled the open air. Your mind started to go still as you saw the lapping ocean waves in the distance. Warm, gentle waves crashing against the shoreline as you got closer to home.

The silhouette of the shimmering water brought you back to Joel. To your first real date with him, when he held you in his strong arms on the warm sand, the way he kissed you like no one else did in your entire life, the way he made you feel everything so deeply, the way he said he loved you the other night. Suddenly you remembered you needed to text Joel.

You pulled the iPhone quickly out of your pocket and pulled up his name as it shone brightly on the lit up screen, and then you typed out the message.

You: Made it safely. Almost back to my house now.

Joel texted back a couple minutes later.

Joel: Glad you made it safely, sunshine. The flight was alright I assume?

You: It was pretty smooth. I fell asleep for most of it. You know what helped me?

Joel: What?

You: Thinking of you :)

Joel: Ahh stop. Sweetheart, you’re gonna make me blush.

You: Did I succeed, handsome? ;)

Joel: You sure did, sunshine. What am I gonna do with you?

You: I bet you’ll think of something.

Joel: Alright, alright. Just calm down or I’m gonna have to fly down there myself.

You: I dare you ;)

Joel: Haha alright you little flirt. Go enjoy the sun and sand for me. I’ll see you in two days.

You: Miss you.

Joel: I miss ya more, sweetheart. Just two days. Then I can see my girl again. Alright now, go on. I’ll talk to you before bed.

You sent him one last text with a pink heart and shoved the phone back in the pocket of your jeans with a stupid grin plastered all over your face. Joel Miller was going to be the death of you.

“And just who were you texting? Hmm?” your mom asked with a raised eyebrow as she looked over at you from the front seat.

“Oh, it was no one,” you smiled as you looked out the window to your warm, muggy beach paradise.

“Mhm, sure,” she laughed as she turned the car down a small block that would take you back home. You’d eventually tell her about Joel, but right now you wanted to keep him your little secret. If only just for a few more minutes.

When you pulled into the long driveway, the house was as still as it was the moment you left for New York. Large, cascading glass windows covered the sides of the white house. Whimsical wind chimes that you placed on the front porch floated effortlessly in the soft breeze of Florida. It’s like you never even left.

As you walked into the house, it was all the same layout. Tan leather couches splayed across the living room with the dark blue seashell rug covering the hardwood floors, the white drapes softly blowing through the open windows as salty ocean scents covered the entire house, the open kitchen with marble counters and high ceilings that you always loved sat untouched. The light blue walls with family pictures sprawled across horizontally hung bright in the sun as the widescreen tv hummed softly with low noises from the Discovery channel. This was home. You were home, finally.

“It’s just how I remembered it,” you sighed as the feeling of peace washed over you. For the moment, that’s all you felt. No anxious thoughts, no panic attacks, just the warm feeling of being home. Away from racing thoughts that filled your head with turbulence and loud noises. All that was gone for the moment.

“Nothing’s changed much since you left for New York. Same with your room. It’s just as you left it,” your mom smiled at you as you passed her up with your rolling suitcase. “I’ll let you get settled, and dinner will be ready whenever you are.”

You made your way to your room, the last door to the right of the long, lit up hallway. The one right next to the huge glass window that overlooked the ocean which was basically just a couple blocks from your house.

As you turned into your open room, you took in everything as it was before. A large glass window that was covered with light purple drapes, a queen sized bed with the same fluffy white blanket sitting draped across the pressed sheets. The fairy lights hung neatly around the edges of the walls, your little bathroom still had the same seashell mat and tropical fish stickers sprawled across the mirror, your walk-in closet still had the piles of neatly hung summer dresses that you had left for keepsakes back home. It was all how you left it, and somehow that filled a hollow hole inside you that you had been missing.

Home. It was so good to be home.

Dinner was quiet except for the small talk about things you’d missed in Florida like your dad, the neighbors across the street, the new boat your parents had bought. It made you miss home even more, but now your home was in New York, at the dance company, in that tiny, blue apartment you so desperately loved to escape from.

And then it was silent, only the scraping of metal forks against glass dishes and mouthfuls of meatballs and spaghetti. It was all good until your mom spoke those awful words you’d been trying to get around for as long as possible.

She set her glass of sparkling water down and stared at you with concerned eyes. “So, sweetie. About New York. You’ve been having a pretty rough time, haven’t you?”

You sighed and dropped your fork against the fine china as the clinking metal made you jump. “Yeah, mom. It’s been rough for some time now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you. I had it under control,” you lied. You definitely did not have it under control. In fact, the whole theater was on fire at this point.

“Oh, sweetie. I always worry about you, especially in a big state like New York.”

You picked up the metal fork again and twirled it around some noodles caked in red sauce. You completely lost your appetite, but you needed to find something to distract your racing thoughts.

“Well, talk to me, honey. Start from the beginning. Tell me everything that happened,” she insisted as she stared at you with wide eyes.

You nodded and looked up sheepishly as you started from the beginning. You told her about how hard Carlotta was on you, how Pierre basically threatened you day after day, how bitchy Cecilia and her little friends were, how absolutely overworked and overwhelmed you’d been for months. And it just got worse as time went on. Nothing but a ball of stress until he showed up and saved you. Joel. Your knight in shining armor. Your everything.

“Oh, hun. I’m so sorry you’ve been going through all that,” your mom emphasized as she reached out and put a hand over yours. “And you tried talking to Carlotta? Are there higher ups you can go to? Gosh, I need to go up there and talk to her myself and-”

“Mom. It’s okay. We - I mean I’ve got it under control, as much as I can. I’m dealing with it.” You stabbed a piece of seasoned broccoli as you looked hard at your plate, hoping you could somehow get out of talking about anymore of this mess.

“Isn’t your first big show next weekend?” she asked softly as her brows knit together in concern.

“Mhm,” you huffed as you set your fork down and leaned back into the wooden chair.

“What are you going to do, sweetie? Are you really going to go through with it? After everything you’ve already been through?” she asked sadly as her eyes bore into yours.

“I… I don’t know, mom. If I don’t, my chances of ever dancing again for a big company are over. I’ve worked my entire life for this. I don’t want to just throw that away and…”

She placed a hand softly on your wrist as you looked up with tears licking the corners of your eyes. “Honey. I know this is a tough decision, but you can’t keep dragging yourself through the mud. There’s only so much you can take until it eats you alive. I don’t want you to do this if you’re just torturing yourself.”

You bit your tongue and felt the tinge of blood run down the back of your throat, feeling your insides lock up as you nodded your head and held back tears. “I know. I just… need to think.”

“Sweetie…” She put her hand gently over yours and turned you to where you were facing her. “I know you’ve worked your whole life for this. I know you love dancing, and I know how good you are at it. I want to see you up on that New York stage more than anyone else, but not at the cost of my daughter.”

You took in the weight of her words, eyes bright with held back tears as you nodded in her direction. She placed a hand gently on the side of your face and started again. “You know, you could always move back to Florida. I’m sure there’s…”

“No!” Her eyes went wide as your sharp yell echoed across the open kitchen. Your heart sped up at the thought of leaving New York. You couldn’t leave. Not without Joel.

“No? Sweetie, why the urgency?”

“I…” You tried to hold back, but it was no use. You’d have to tell her about Joel at some point, so why not now? “I… I met someone.”

She sat up straighter in her kitchen chair with her eyes wide, mouth parted open as a small smile crept up to her pink lips. “Met someone? Tell me everything! What’s his name, what’s he like?” she asked excitedly as she nearly bounced right out of her chair with her plate of spaghetti surely to follow after her.

You leaned against the sleek table and propped one elbow up as you leaned your chin against your flexed knuckle. “His name’s Joel. He’s tall, has these big, beautiful brown doe eyes you can just get lost in. He’s so sweet and charming and protective and handsome. And he’s… he’s, well… perfect.”

Your mom watched you carefully, watching the way your eyes glowed when you talked about him, watching the way your body seemed to melt into itself as you said his name again, repeating it like a dreamy song you could get lost in.

“Ahh. I know that look, sweetie. You’re in love, aren’t you?” she teased as she grabbed your hand and squeezed firmly, smiling her pearly whites to you as her feet shifted up and down.

“How do you know?” you asked as you raised your eyebrows in question.

“Hun, I’ve been there before. I know what falling in love feels like, and it’s that face right there that you’re making. And that smile, that warm smile. And the way you talk about him? My goodness. I’ve never seen that look on you before. You’re positively glowing.”

You giggled out as you could feel your face turn bright pink. “Yeah, mom. I do love him, a lot.”

“Well, I’m so happy for you, sweetie. He better treat you good. And I want to meet this man, next time I’m in New York. Is that understood?” she laughed as she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“Okay, mom. Of course you can meet him.”

“Perfect.” She pushed back and kept her hands in yours for just a second longer. “I’m so glad you came home, sweetie.”

“Me too, mom. Me too.” You finished off dinner and talked to your mom more about Joel, telling her how he was older and had a daughter, which she took well.

After a few hours of catching up, you got ready for bed and practically threw yourself into the warm, silky sheets. You could barely keep your eyes open, but you needed to text Joel goodnight. You slid the phone from your mahogany nightstand and typed his name out as you started making a cute little goodnight text for Joel.

You: Hope you’re enjoying your night, handsome.

It didn’t take long for your phone to vibrate against your silk sheets as you brought it back up to your face.

Joel: Not as much as I’d be enjoying it if you were here, gorgeous.

You giggled out as you sent another text.

You: Think so?

Joel: I know so.

You brought the fluffy blanket up to your chin and bit your bottom lip as you thought of dreamy brown eyes and thick arms.

You: Well, I’ll be home in no time. Just a couple days, right?

Joel: Home. You mean with me?

Your breath hitched at the question. Was he asking if home was with him? You tapped your fingers against the side of the iPhone and sent a response.

You: I mean…

Joel: Use your words, sweetheart. Did you mean with me? In my house?

In his house… you really wanted that. You felt that. Like he was home, like maybe his home was also now yours. It practically was but…

You: Joel, you… you feel like home. You are home.

You watched the bubbles slowly go back and forth against the bottom of the screen as you waited and waited and waited, until finally you got a response back.

Joel: Sweetheart, there’s nothing more I want than to have you in my arms, in my house. You feel like home, too.

You threw your head back against the fluffy pillow and smiled brightly, your lips hurting from how massive your smile was. You could feel your toes curl and your cheeks burn as you read his message over and over and over again. It’d never get old, you’d print the text out and carve it into your heart so it’d always be with you. Home. He was home.

You said your goodnights to each other and then rolled over to look out your window, hearing the faint noise of rolling waves and the sea breeze tapping against the glass. You closed your eyes and gently got pulled under the waves as sleep took you fast, but you dreamed of deep brown eyes and broad shoulders that night. And that itself made you sleep that much better.

You ended up sleeping in till 10:00 am, welcomed with the warmth of the glowing sunshine against your window pane as you awoke to the smell of fresh bacon and eggs. You quickly slipped out of bed and found your pink fuzzy slippers as you exited your room.

When you entered into the open kitchen, the humid breeze blew in from the open glass windows as your mom used the spatula to mix up the scrambled eggs. “Good morning, sweetie! How’d you sleep?”

“Actually, great. It was really nice to sleep in my actual bed again.” You grabbed a piece of crispy bacon and popped a piece into your mouth as you let the savory flavor slide down your throat.

“I’m so glad to hear it. So, what’s your plans for the day? I was thinking maybe we could go grab lunch and go shopping.” You watched her flip her flowing hair over her shoulder as she smiled your way.

“Yeah, I’d like that. But I think this morning I’m just gonna go take a walk on the beach. Clear my head a little,” you murmured through a piece of crispy bacon.

She came around the slab of the marble countertop and rested a hand on your shoulder as she brought you in for a big hug. “I think that’s a great idea. Nothing better to clear your head than a walk on the beach.”

After she went back to finishing breakfast, the two of you talked more about New York, about the ballet, about your choices. None of it was fun, but you guessed it was good to get it off your chest. Now you just had to make that hard decision. The one you didn’t want to make.

When breakfast was over and after you helped clean the dishes, you got ready for the day and threw on a pair of denim shorts and a pink tank top and decided to head down to the beach. It was only a five minute walk, not far at all. When you stepped outside, you smelled the salt water blow through your hair, felt the humid air you were so used to living with in Florida, and the sunshine bathed your pale skin in some much needed Vitamin D your body had been begging for.

As soon as your bare feet hit the soft sand, you felt as if you were home. This was your favorite thing. The white sand, the smell of saltwater, the sounds of crashing waves, the sights of soaring seagulls and pelicans. This is what you had been missing, the ocean, Florida, home.

You found a smooth pile of soft sand and plopped down as you dug your heels into the warm, white surface. You closed your eyes and breathed in deep, trying not to dwell on the fact that you were so close to show time, the final stretch for the next few months. Could you do it? Could you bear the fact that you’d have to dance next to Pierre and Cecilia, while taking strict orders from Carlotta? Was it worth it? Worth your sanity?

You covered your feet under the warm grains of sand, wishing you could slowly sink and become the grainy flecks of sand, wishing you didn’t have to worry about the theater, about your overbearing peers, about anything related to dancing. You just wanted to float off into the distance, let the lapping waves carry you away to a place where you didn’t have to think at all, where you could just exist and be yourself, whoever that may be now. You kind of got lost in the chaos of it all, in the darkness and in your own drowning mind. You just wished all the screaming voices in your head would just stop, that every scrap of doubt would disappear, leave you alone for just a minute, a second, really. But that was too much to ask. The only person that could take all the panic and chaos away was Joel. Your guiding light, your lover…

You took the next few minutes trying to unthread the jumbled thoughts in the mess of your head, trying to figure out just what you wanted, what you were willing to do. You loved dancing, you truly did, but there was that nagging voice in your head, the one that said it was too much, too mind bending, too fucked. And maybe you didn’t want to continue on, maybe you’d just give up on all your hopes and dreams because they weren’t yours anymore. At least not in that theater with those people. Maybe you just needed to…

Suddenly, your phone started buzzing in the pocket of your denim jeans and when you went to retrieve it, it was Joel’s name that lit up across the phone screen. You eagerly answered and held the phone up to your ear as you took a deep breath and kept your voice steady. “Hey, handsome,” you answered as a small smile curled against the gloss of your lips.

“Hi, sweetheart. How’s Florida treatin’ ya?” His voice was warm, calm, deep as you took in his Southern drawl, wishing you could feel it blowing down the back of your neck right at this very second.

“It’s good. Currently just sitting at the beach, basking up the sun,” you smiled as you heard him chuckle.

“Better than the New York beaches, hmm?” he asked as you could practically see his brows furrow up with that smug smirk you so loved to kiss.

“Mmm nothing beats the white sandy beaches here. Except maybe you,” you giggled as you heard that warm breath blow through the end of the line. God, you wished he could hold you right now.

“Is that so, sunshine?” he chuckled through the phone.

“Yes,” you smiled as you drew a little heart with your index finger through the soft white sand.

“Such a sweet girl,” he drawled as you brought your knees to your chest and smiled dreamily as you stared out into the blue sea.

“So, I might’ve mentioned you to my mom last night at dinner,” you said nervously as you awaited his answer.

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm. You know, she wants to meet you.”

“Well, how ‘bout that? Think we’ll jus’ have to see that through then.”

“Yeah?” you asked with a hitch of your breath.

“Yeah, we’ll make it happen.”

“Okay,” you smiled as the sun warmed your skin.

He took a minute before he said anything else, and you knew it was coming. The question you came here to decide, if you wanted to continue on or not. You felt your stomach drop as if you were anchored down to the ocean floor, chained in darkness with no way to escape. You felt it then. The nerves pulling through you, that impending doom feeling you’d felt so often at the ballet company. It was here. You had to decide what you wanted.

“Did you decide yet? What you wanna do?” His voice was careful as he spoke the words, like he was walking on broken glass.

You sunk your feet further into the warm sand, your eyes staring out on the blue horizon as you brought your knees further into your chest. This was it. The final decision. You knew what you had to do. You knew. You were just too afraid to say it out loud because that’d make it real.

“I… I…”

“It’s finished.”

“What?” Your breath hitched as you gasped out. What was finished?

“The video. It got sent to Carlotta.”

Your eyes went wide as his words. He did it? He really did it? “What do you mean you sent it?”

He took a breath and spoke. “I went to the theater this morning and talked with one of the security guys. He was able to pull up the footage of Pierre well… slapping you and pushing you down.” You winced at the reminder of that awful day, but gulped down any tears that might’ve spilled and let him continue.

“He has a list of phone numbers and was able to get Carlotta’s. So he was able to send her the video. It’s done, sunshine. That’s proof enough. I don’t think he’s gonna be able to stay in the ballet. Come Monday, if she saw it, he may very well be kicked out of the show.”

You gasped out as you looked out toward the shiny blue ocean, releasing all the terror and anxieties of before. Joel did it. Joel really was your knight in shining armor. “Joel…”

“I had to do somethin’. I couldn’t just stand and watch you suffer anymore. I had to do this, baby. No one is gonna mess with my girl as long as I’m around. Nobody.”

“I… Joel, thank you. I don’t know what to say, I’m speechless. I…”

“It’s okay, baby girl. You don’t gotta say anythin’. Jus’ know I’m always watchin’ out for you. Always, my love.”

Always. My love.

“So, what’s it gonna be, sunshine?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked hard out on the horizon, mustering up any and all courage you could. You let out a long sigh before you said anything else. So what were you going to do? You didn’t know. You didn’t know.

“I… don’t know.”

Tags: @burntheedges @jasminedragoon @littlevenicebitch69 @joelalorian @tuquoquebrute @akah565 @dugiioh @amyispxnk @blueseastorm @pedrostories @keylimebeag @msjarvis

#joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au #joel miller fanfiction #soft joel miller #joel miller au #dancing with fire #ballet au #joel miller angst #joel miller comfort #joel miller pedro pascal

60 notes · View notes