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finelinefae · 11 months ago

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flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]

synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop.

word count: 8.6k

content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N)

read part 2 here

my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !

. . .

Y/N had been having a terrible week.

She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.

People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.

But this week was not fun.

The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.

Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.

It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.

Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.

So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.

Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.

"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.

She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.

The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.

The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.

Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.

The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.

She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.

"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.

She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.

"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.

He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."

The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."

His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."

She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."

"M allergic to flowers." He said.

"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.

"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.

He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.

Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.

He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."

Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."

"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.

"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.

"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.

"Yes." She nods.

"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."

She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.

"That's different."

"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.

"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.

"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."

Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."

He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.

He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."

She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.

"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.

Her entire face heats at the nickname.

***

The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.

She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.

When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.

Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.

After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.

She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.

Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.

It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.

She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.

"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.

At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.

Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.

She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.

At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.

She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.

The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.

Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.

"Excuse me please," she mumbled.

"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.

She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.

The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.

"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.

"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.

"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."

"Mine is." She said.

"What?"

"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.

His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."

"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.

"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.

Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.

Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.

"Is that your new girl Styles?"

"Nice one, H."

"Have fun Styles."

"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.

"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.

"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.

She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.

"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.

Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.

"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."

Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"

"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."

She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.

"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.

"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.

"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.

It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.

He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.

"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.

He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.

Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.

"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.

"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."

"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.

***

Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.

She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.

She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.

When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.

She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.

Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.

Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.

An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.

In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.

Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.

"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"

"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.

The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."

Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."

"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"

"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.

Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.

She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.

He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.

"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.

"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."

The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"

"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"

"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.

"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."

"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"

"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.

"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.

"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"

"He swore at me,"

"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."

"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.

"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."

"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."

"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.

"Wait, what? No."

"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."

"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.

"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."

Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.

All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."

"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.

The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.

"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.

"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.

Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.

"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.

He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."

"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."

"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.

"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.

"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.

"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."

"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.

"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.

"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.

"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.

She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.

"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.

"A-Are you sure?"

"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night.

It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall.

"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman.

"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her.

"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.

"Mhm," He hummed.

"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms.

"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked.

"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly.

He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy."

Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.

"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.

"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'"

"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm.

"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.

Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck. Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals.

"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear.

"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry.

"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.

She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did.

"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."

"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her.

"What?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."

"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.

"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.

"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"

"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."

"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.

"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.

Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does.

Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her.

With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.

"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying.

"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.

"Why?" She can't help but ask.

He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is."

She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?"

Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."

. . .

Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door.

An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box.

"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching.

As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.

The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened.

Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair.

"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.

"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"

She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.

He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else.

When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.

His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine.

"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.

"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?"

Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss.

He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.

"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered.

She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed.

"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"

She nods without even thinking about it, "Please,"

He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"

She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything."

His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."

"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck.

Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck.

That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket.

She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin.

Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon.

She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now.

Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots.

The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.

Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.

Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her.

Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange.

Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower,"

"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed.

"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"

Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"

He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."

"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.

He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck.

After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"

Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.

Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?"

Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"

She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him.

Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"

"A little," She huffed.

"You're too cute."

Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.

"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips.

"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt.

Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"

"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.

"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface.

"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."

She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"

"Been intimate with someone."

She smiled.

She really, really liked him.

. . .

For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things.

Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.

When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning.

In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him.

Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard.

"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat.

She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo.

Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.

"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly.

"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom.

Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it.

With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth.

It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her.

Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve.

His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.

Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"

Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush."

"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something.

"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly.

Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.

Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."

Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?"

She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes.

"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh.

"Yes daddy," She murmurs.

Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave. Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.

"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.

"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty."

"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants.

"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.

Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers.

Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."

Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.

"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it.

"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb.

"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful.

"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole.

"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck.

"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut.

Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?"

"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-"

"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand."

At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.

She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.

"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises.

Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.

"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers.

Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."

"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting."

"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.

"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.

"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"

"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired."

"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest.

"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily.

"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.

psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #one direction #writing #harry styles writing

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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

Text

loved her first

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: It's been two and a half years since you and Joel left your baby daughter in Bill and Frank's care; when a surprise thunderstorm strands the two of you in Lincoln for the night, you unexpectedly witness Joel bond with her.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. hints at Frank's deteriorating health condition, he is not bound to a wheelchair quite yet; glimpses of girldad!Joel, babygirl name reveal, angst, mention of Sarah. time jump to 2023, takes place a few months prior to Ellie coming into their lives.

word count 5.5k

A/N: um...this turned out to be more angsty than planned.

April, 2023

You watched her as she twirled around in front of the flower bushes, a small smile tugging lightly at the corners of your mouth.

Frank had mentioned before that she absolutely adored flowers; he’d also told you about how she loved being outdoors and how she would gladly, happily, abandon all of her dolls and other toys in exchange for frolicking outside. You’d had a difficult time believing him on that, but there you were, sitting just a few feet away, witnessing first hand with your very own eyes that it was actually true. She seemed to be having the time of her life spinning around and around in front of the array of colorful roses, petunias, and begonias that Bill and Frank had planted around the house right after the winter season had come and gone. It was so incredibly innocent, so endearingly pure, a beautiful sight that you already knew you would be constantly replaying on a loop in your memory for the rest of your life—memories of her were all you had. It wasn’t enough for you, though, not even fucking close; the memories of your daughter you took home were what kept you from losing your sanity, but they were nothing compared to what you actually wanted, which was to be her mother.

Because you were her mother.

You held back a small sigh, your gaze still locked on every part of her.

She wore the sweetest, springtime dress that surely must have come from the boutique—light sky blue with an intricate eyelet embroidery, a sash made from the same exact fabric tied around her waist into an adorably perfect bow at the back of it. A pair of darling, strappy white ballet flats adorned her tiny feet, and although Frank had put her into a soft, knitted white cardigan to help keep her warm against a sudden and unexpected chilly afternoon breeze that swept through the town, the child had sneakily shrugged herself out of it when she noticed he wasn’t paying attention. Noticing the dark, gloomy clouds that began to slowly but surely make their way over the neighborhood, you stood up from the table and walked over to the spot on the front lawn, right beside the porch, where she had discarded her cardigan.

Picking it up, you lightly dusted it off and made sure it was clean. You then called out to her, gently. “Hey.” You smiled as she stopped in her tracks mid-spin, looking over at you with curiosity. You beckoned her over with your hand. “Come here, sweet girl.”

She skipped over to you, and you instinctively lowered yourself to her eye level as you spoke to her.

“The sun is gone.” You pointed up towards the skies. “That means it’s time for you to put this on so you don’t get cold. Okay?”

She wrinkled her little nose, but agreed, “Okay.” She held her arms up and out to you, as if to tell you to put it on for her.

You helped her back into it, though you left it unbuttoned so as not to cover up her pretty dress. “There we go. Don’t take it off again, okay? At least not while we’re outside.” You noticed a slight look of mischief cross her features and playfully pointed your index finger at her. “I am being so serious, young lady. Promise me that you won’t take it off?”

“I won’t,” she swore. Though she spoke fairly clearly now, she still had hints of toddler pronunciation; she could enunciate several words but she was still learning to properly talk. “Promise I won’t take it off.”

You reached out, briefly touching her soft cheek. “That’s a good girl,” You murmured, letting your thumb sweet across her satin skin. Every single part of you longed for even more contact with her, you yearned with every fucking fiber in your entire being to take her into your arms and hold her close; however, there was a very fine line that was not to be crossed, much less when Bill and Frank were sitting just a few feet away. You gave her cheek a light, teasing pinch and finally found it in you to withdraw your hand away from her face.

She grinned at you and a deep, prominent dimple appeared in her left cheek. You’d first noticed it during your visit on her first birthday.

There had always been something new for you to notice during each visit; a new tooth, an additional inch to her height, the way her face was no longer as round and pudgy as it had been when she was an infant. This time around, it was her hair that had caught your attention. It fell in long, dark brown waves to just about the middle of her back.

Her voice broke into your train of thought. “Can I go play now?”

You nodded and rose to your feet. “Of course, sweet girl. Just be very careful, alright?”

“I will.” She bobbed her head up and down at you and then went right back to her twirling, letting out an adorable giggle at the way the skirt of her dress swayed along with her movement.

You made your way back over to the table and took your seat. Picking up your glass of red wine, you took a quick sip before glancing over at Frank and remarking, “Her hair’s gotten really long.” You took another sip and then set your glass down, abandoning it in favor of the white pearl that hung from the silver chain around your neck. Holding it gingerly in your hand, you thought back to the day Joel had given it to you a little over two years ago. Presenting you with your daughter’s birthstone to carry with you had to have been one of the most loving, incredible things that he’d ever done for you. It was your most prized and cherished possession and although he didn’t like you wearing it outside of the apartment, it’d been a year since the last time you had taken it off. Anyone who tried to jump you for it would get a blade lodged into their skull. “Has she had her first haircut yet?”

“Nope. She refuses to let me anywhere near her with a pair of shears. As soon as she sees them in my hand, she runs,” Frank explained. He offered you a small, fatigued smile. He’d briefly mentioned to you the night before he hadn’t been feeling all too well over the last few days, but he still insisted that you and Joel still make the trip to Lincoln for lunch. “She calls it her princess hair—she said she wants to grow it as long as Rapunzel’s.”

You hummed. “Long hair suits her,” You told him after a minute. “Doesn’t it, Joel?”

You were met with no response and turned to glance at Joel.

He sat beside you at the table, sipping silently on his glass of wine; he hadn’t seemed to have heard you, and for once, it wasn’t because the hearing in his right ear was failing him. Joel hadn’t heard you because he was too distracted. His eyes were fixed intently on the toddler, and even when you reached out and touched his arm in an attempt to get his attention, his gaze remained latched onto her. He looked on with a mixture of different, conflicting emotions—of them all, it was sadness that took center stage. Joel often tried to keep his own feelings under wraps, for your sake, more than anything. He was your partner and he was your protector, he was your shoulder to lean on and the glue that, despite the circumstances, held everything together somehow.

He kept it all from crumbling down. For you, always for you.

You appreciated Joel trying to hold strong for you, but you wished he wouldn’t, not when you knew he was hurting too—hurting over Sarah and hurting over the daughter that was right there in front of him, but whose life he was missing out on. She was growing quickly, changing so fucking much each and every time he saw her, and he could hardly stand that he wasn’t around to witness it. Glimpses of her and her life were all that you and Joel were given, and you know that killed him as much as it killed you.

“Gracie!” Bill said her name in a scolding tone. He’d been sitting in his chair with his back to her, but he knew exactly what she was up to; he had developed something of a sixth sense when it came to her. “You just had lunch, you’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t cut that out! You’d better come and sit your little butt down right now or it’s a timeout for you, missy!”

She stopped for a second, smirked at his back, and then continued to twirl around.

Joel snorted into his wine, amused by her rebelliousness.

“Honey, come on. Be good and listen to daddy.” Frank glanced tiredly over his shoulder. “You don’t want to make yourself dizzy, do you?”

Gracie stopped and let out a teeny, frustrated huff; just seconds later, a white butterfly garnered her attention and she took off across the front lawn, chasing after it.

“Jesus,” Joel muttered, shaking his head. He set his wine glass down on the table and leaned back into his chair. “Does she ever get tired? I’m exhausted just from watchin’ her run around.”

“She’s been so energetic lately,” Frank said. He picked up his fork and pushed his vegetables around on his plate; you’d noticed that he had hardly eaten any of his meal. “Sometimes we can hardly keep up with her. But the bright side of letting her run around is that when bedtime comes around, she’s just about all tuckered out. Isn’t she, Bill?”

Bill scoffed. “If we’re lucky. The kid’s like the damn Energizer Bunny.”

You giggled. Looking over at Gracie, you noticed that she was in one of the bushes and your smile faded slightly. “Oh, um, she’s—” You stopped and simply nodded your head over in her direction, worried that she would get into the roses and accidentally prick herself with a thorn.

Bill looked over his shoulder. He sighed, “She’s digging in the flowers again, Frank.”

“Oh Gracie, honey please don’t pick the flowers—”

But it was too late.

She stepped back from the bush, clutching a tiny handful of Frank’s beloved white begonias. She then ran over to her parents; she first handed a flower to Frank and then one to Bill, who, despite trying his best to keep a stern face, cracked the tiniest of smiles as he accepted it from her.

“It’s so hard to put her in time out when she does things like this,” Frank chuckled, shaking his head. He smoothed her hair back from her face, lovingly tucking it behind her ear. “You’re just the most innocent little troublemaker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Gracie gave him a tiny nod, and he let his hand drop from her hair as she turned around and walked around the table towards you. Falling into step beside your chair, she held up a flower for you.

Your entire body radiated with a pleasant warmth as you took it from her. Taking the side of her face into the palm of your hand, you leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’m going to keep this forever and ever.” And you would. You planned on pressing it into a book the moment you arrived back in the QZ.

She smiled at you and then she let her gaze flicker curiously over to Joel. You could see her debating it over in her mind—besides the polite little hello that Frank would push her to say whenever you two came over, Gracie rarely ever interacted with him. She wasn’t afraid of him, but even at the tender age of two, she could sense the man’s quiet and serious nature and she knew to keep her distance. It was something of an unspoken, mutual agreement between the two of them; Joel always kept his distance from her too.

After a minute, she finally plucked up some courage and squeezed past you. She went up to the side of Joel’s chair and placed her tiny hand on his bare forearm, giving it a gentle pat as if to call for his attention.

You could almost feel the way he momentarily froze, stiffening beneath her touch.

“Gracie, don’t—” Bill started to say, however Frank held a hand up to stop him.

“Wait, Bill,” he said, quietly. “Let her.”

“Here,” Gracie uttered softly, holding out the last begonia to him.

Joel’s heart had all but leapt up into his throat. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he lifted a hand and accepted it. When he spoke, he sounded almost breathless. “Thank you.”

“It’s pretty,” she told him, shyly nodding at the flower now in his hand.

“Very pretty,” he agreed. He paused briefly, then touched it to the tip of it to her nose. “Just like you.”

Gracie beamed at him.

Just like you and your momma, he wanted to tell her. Of course, he knew better than to say such a thing out loud in front of Bill and Frank.

“Gracie, honey, what do you say when someone says something nice to you?” Frank prompted her from across the table.

She looked at him, then bashfully turned back to Joel. “Thank you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and seconds later came the crashing sound of thunder.

Startled by the loud noise, Gracie let out a small yelp and found herself in between Joel’s legs, tugging desperately at his denim shirt. Before his mind and body could even make the connection, he picked her up and hoisted her into his lap and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, a small whimper escaping her.

Bill and Frank exchanged a look of complete shock with one another.

Even you watched on with your lips parted in absolute bewilderment.

You’d only ever seen her in his arms once—when she’d been a newborn.

“It’s alright darlin’,” Joel soothed her, lightly patting her back. “It’s nothin’ but a little bit of thunder. It’s tellin’ us that the rain is comin’ soon, and you know what that means?”

Reluctantly, Gracie pulled her face out of his neck and looked up at him with her dark brown eyes—the very same dark brown eyes she’d inherited from him. “What?”

“More flowers,” he whispered to her, giving her a small grin.

“Really?” she squeaked excitedly.

“Oh, speaking of the rain, here come those April showers.” Frank held out his hand, having felt the first drop. Before he could even utter the warning for everyone to move inside, it suddenly began to pour; the rain came down hard and fast, as if someone up in the clouds had turned on a garden hose. “Everyone in the house!”

Bill helped him out of his chair, slipping an arm around his back. You noticed him struggle alone to help Frank and quickly hurried around the table, taking his other arm, and the both of you helped him up the lawn towards the house.

Joel stood up with Gracie still in his arms; he hurried towards the house behind the rest of you, using his hand to shield her from the rain as best as he could manage, though she ended up getting soaked, just like everyone else.

Once inside, he set her down on her feet. Another round of thunder struck, rattling the walls of the house.

Gasping, Gracie threw her arms around Joel’s leg.

Bill raised an eyebrow, pushing his drenched hair away from his face. “I’ve never seen her get this close to you before.”

“She’s just spooked, that’s all.” Joel cleared his throat awkwardly and reached down, carefully peeling her off of him. He placed his hand on her back and gently nudged her towards him. “Go to daddy.”

“Well, that’s a nice lunch ruined,” Frank sighed heavily. “Gracie, let’s get you upstairs and changed into dry clothes.” He reached down to pick her up, but struggled lifting her into his arms, a problem that you had never seen him have before; a bizarre expression crossed his face and he turned to Bill. “Help me carry her upstairs to her room?”

Bill nodded, picking her up. “Come on, kiddo.”

Crestfallen, Frank watched him as he carried her up the staircase.

“Frank? Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, placing a hand on his arm.

He nodded, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine. I think I just need some rest.” He noticed the skeptical expression on your face and before you could ask him again, he changed the subject. “You two are more than welcome to stay and wait for the storm to pass before heading out.”

Several hours later, and the torrential downpour continued on with no signs of stopping any time soon.

“We’ll be fine,” You assured Frank as you began looking in your pack for your windbreaker. You found it in the top zipper, and pulled it out; although it would hardly do anything to shield you from the cold and heavy rainfall, it would have to do. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been out and about in a storm like this.”

“Nonsense,” he said, taking the jacket out of your hands. After taking a long nap earlier that evening, he appeared to be in better spirits. He still appeared tired, but he seemed to be moving around with more ease, an indication that he had gained a bit of his strength back. “You two can spend the night down here in the guest bedroom.”

“That’s very kind, Frank. But Bill wouldn’t like that.”

“I already talked him into it. He’s not too happy, but as usual, he’ll get over it.” Frank saw you about to protest and he held up a hand. “Can you just make this easy and graciously accept the offer please?”

You chuckled. You had known him for a few years now and you knew the man was as stubborn as stubborn could be. “Alright, alright. We’ll stay the night.”

“Good.” Frank smiled and handed you your jacket back. “The guest bedroom is down the hall, second door on the left. Make yourselves right at home. If you need anything, just let me know, alright?”

Joel nodded, taking your hand in his. “We appreciate this a whole lot, Frank. Thank you.”

“Of course. You two get some sleep, alright?” He bid the two of you a final goodnight before disappearing upstairs.

With your hand still in his, Joel led the way down the hallway towards the bedroom. He opened the door and flipped on the lights; the room was on the smaller side, but it was still decently spacious, at least for you it was, especially when compared it to the tiny bedroom you and Joel shared with Tess in the QZ. Frank had furnished it with gorgeous antique furniture that you were almost certain he’d refurbished on his own. What really caught your eye, however, was the bed in the middle of the room; it was a large, queen sized bed decorated with a soft, red and gold duvet and matching pillows.

“I’m so used to that old, ripped mattress we have back at home,” You remarked with a small laugh.

Joel squeezed your hand. He was thrilled to have the chance to sleep in such a comfortable looking bed, but more importantly, he found a sense of relief that for the first time in a long time, you would be able to lay in clean sheets and rest your head on a soft pillow. “Looks like we’ll both be gettin’ a good night’s sleep for once.”

Grinning, you tilted your head up towards his, your lips meeting his in a kiss. “Guess being stormed in has its perks,” You murmured against his mouth. You dropped his hand and stepped away from him, pulling your pack off your shoulders and placing it onto the bed. Unzipping it at the top, you opened it up and started rummaging around inside of it, hoping that you had a spare t-shirt that you could sleep in. As Joel started doing the same, you couldn’t help but remark, “Gracie seems to have taken a sudden liking to you.”

He quickly shook his head. “I don’t think so—”

“Joel, she gave you a flower.”

“She gave everyone a flower,” he reminded you. “Not just me.”

“What about the way she just jumped into your arms?”

He scoffed. “The thunder startled her and I was sitting closest to her. She would have jumped into the fuckin’ Boogeyman’s arms if he had been closest to her.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculousness. “Okay, what about the fact that she wanted to sit next to you at the dinner table tonight? Or how she decided to introduce you to all of her dolls one by one?”

Joel paused from digging into his pack, his jaw clenching slightly as he mulled over his thoughts in hid mind. “Do you think Gracie senses somethin’ about me?” he asked you quietly after a minute or two of silence.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why are you asking me that? Do you think she senses something about you?”

“I’d sure as hell hope not. Wouldn’t make Bill and Frank too happy. In fact, it would move me even higher up Bill’s shit list. I can tell that he wasn’t all too happy with the way she was clingin’ to me earlier.” Joel sighed and finally looked up, turning to you. “She looks so much like us, you know. The older she gets, the more I can actually see it. She’s equal parts you, equal parts me. Makes me worry about her noticin’ it someday.”

“Joel, she’s a toddler for Christ’s sake. It’ll be years before that could even happen. And sure she looks a lot like us now, but as children get older their features start to change and—” You stopped, realizing Joel had stopped listening to you.

His eyes were fixed on something over your shoulder, his lips parted slightly.

“Joel, what are you—?” You turned around.

Gracie stood there at the door of the bedroom, which the two of you had left open. She was barefoot, wearing a light pink nightdress; she held her hands behind her back as she simply looked at you and Joel.

“Gracie? Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed? How on earth did you get down here all by yourself?” Your heart squeezed in your chest when you realized that she could have easily fallen down the stairs and gotten hurt.

“Think she’s got somethin’ there, baby,” Joel noticed. He walked over to her and lowered himself down to one knee in front of her. Although he was sure Bill wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave one of his guns or other weapons lying around unsecured, part of him couldn’t help but worry about what she had in her hands. He held out his hand. “Can I see what you’ve got there, little darlin’?”

She nodded, almost eagerly, and showed him the object she’d been holding behind her back—a children’s book.

You let out a small breath of relief. “Oh thank god.”

Joel took it from her. “Goodnight, Moon,” he read the cover out loud, feeling his heart sink deep into the pits of his stomach. Looking over his shoulder at you, he let out a sharp exhale, as if some unseen force had just knocked all the wind out of his lungs.

Concerned, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Joel? Are you okay?”

Though clearly he wasn’t, he nodded and turned back to Gracie.

“Read me the story?” she asked him shyly, shuffling from foot to foot.

“Frank already read her a bedtime story,” You explained to him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “He said he only allows her one a night.”

“Well, that’s a stupid fuckin’ rule,” Joel muttered, though he had been loud enough for you to hear.

“Joel!” You snapped, swatting at him with your other hand. “Don’t say that word in front of her!”

Joel almost laughed. “She’s two and a half years old.”

“Yeah, and probably parrot at this age,” You pointed out. “Please, just mind your mouth around her? We don’t need her picking up your rich vocabulary.”

“Bedtime story? Please?” Gracie chirped hopefully, interrupting the two of you.

Joel let out a small scoff. “You expect me to say no to that sweet little face? Not a chance.” He turned back to her. “Alright, I’ll read it to you. But you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep right after. Promise?”

She nodded excitedly. “Promise!”

Your stomach churned. “Joel, are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t want Bill and Frank getting upset with us—”

“It’s just a bedtime story,” he said. Holding the book in one hand, he rose to his feet and then scooped her up into his arms. He walked out of the bedroom and started up the staircase with you following close behind. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he asked, “Which one’s hers?”

You hesitated before answering, “Second door on the right. Joel, I’m not sure about this.”

“You act like we’re committin’ a fuckin’ crime.”

“First of all stop cursing around her and secondly, we may as well be committing a crime!” You hissed, lowering your voice. “I don’t want to break any boundaries. If Bill gets pissed enough, he could potentially never let us see her again!”

Joel shook his head. “Baby, for the last time, it’s just a fuck—it’s just bedtime story,” he quickly caught himself before another curse word could escape him. “Can you just relax? We ain’t doin’ anythin’ wrong.”

You’d never seen this side of Joel before. Usually, it was him trying to be the voice of reason, it had always been Joel telling you to use your common sense and make the right decisions, and here he was, being so stupidly stubborn.

He opened the door to Gracie’s bedroom and flipped on the lights. It looked like any ordinary little girl’s bedroom—a canopy bed, matching white furniture, a corner strewn with all kinds of toys and a bookshelf packed to the brim with fairytales in another. What surprised you was how the plain white walls had been brought to life with hand painted, large scale wildflowers that surely had to have been done by Frank.

“Daddy’s flowers,” she said, pointing her finger.

“He paints the prettiest flowers, doesn’t he?” You prompted her.

She nodded her head. “Mhm.”

“C’mon.” Joel walked over towards her bed, perching her on his hip as he reached out with his free hand to pull her covers back; he then gingerly laid her down and pulled them up to her chest, tucking her in. “You warm enough, babygirl?”

Gracie nodded. “Yes.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Teddy!”

“Teddy?” Confused, he furrowed an eyebrow and then glanced down at the stuffed brown teddy bear beside his boot. “Oh, Teddy. How did he get down here, darlin’? He’s supposed to be up here with you.” He picked the bear up, placing it right beside her. “That’s better.”

Anxiously, you dropped down into the white wicker chair beside her bed as Joel kneeled on the opposite side. His dark eyes glazed over the book in his hand, and even from where you sat, you could see the sadness flash across his face, subtle, but detectable. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he opened it and thumbed to the first page. Clearing his throat, he began reading to her. “In the great green room, there was a telephone. And a red balloon. And a picture of a cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie lingered on every word, her big doe eyes wide with fascination in the most endearing way.

You finally managed to relax and leaned back into the chair, watching the scene before you with a delicate smile on your face. Your hand instinctively went to your necklace, and you rolled the pearl between your thumb and your index finger as you drank in the sight of Joel reading to your daughter.

His daughter.

“Goodnight moon, goodnight cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie yawned and began blinking furiously.

You could tell she was trying her hardest to stay awake to the very end, but Joel’s deep voice was effortlessly lulling her to sleep.

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.” By the time Joel read the last sentence, her eyes had fluttered closed.

“And she’s out.” You lowered your voice so you wouldn’t wake her.

Joel closed the book and placed it on her nightstand. He stared at her and reached out, lightly touching his index finger to her cheek. “If you would’ve asked me two and a half years ago if I thought I’d be tuckin’ her into bed and readin’ her a bedtime story someday, I’d say you’d lost your damn fuckin’ mind.”

You laughed softly and nodded. “Oh, I know.”

“You think she’s happy here?”

Your smile faded slightly. “Of course she’s happy here. Wearing pretty dresses, picking flowers, chasing butterflies across the front yard...”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question,” Joel muttered, rising to his feet.

You stood up from the chair and walked over to him. “Bill and Frank are doing a great job at raising her under the circumstances. She’s happy, she’s healthy—and they love her so much, Joel.”

“Too bad she’ll never know that we loved her first,” he murmured.

“We did love her first.” You reached for one of his hands and took it in your own, lacing your fingers together with his. “But this is the way things have to be and we both know that.”

Joel let out a hesitant sigh. “That book she brought me to read to her,” he started to say, his voice breaking slightly, “That book was the first book that I ever read to Sarah when she was a little girl.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, your heart aching for him. “Joel...” You stopped and swallowed the thick, emotional lump that had risen in your throat. You said nothing else and reached up with your opposite hand, cradling his cheek in your palm.

“She was two years old, just like Gracie is now.” His voice wavered again and it was taking every ounce of strength he had inside of him not to crumble in front of you. He placed his hand over yours on his face. “You know that dimple in her left cheek?”

You simply nodded.

“Sarah had that exact same dimple,” Joel whispered. “Same side, same place too. And the way Gracie acts, she reminds me so much of her when she was that age. The way she smiles, the way she giggles, it all reminds me of Sarah.”

It almost shocked you, the way Joel was mentioning Sarah—the last time he had talked about her was that night in the apartment almost three years ago, when you had brought her up during an argument and it had only added fuel to the fire. You remembered being heavily pregnant with Gracie then, and Joel had confessed that he would probably never be ready to talk to you about the daughter that he’d lost. To hear him even utter her name to you again came completely out of left field.

“Maybe your sweet little butterfly sent you something to remember her by,” You told him, nodding over at the sleeping child.

Joel closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his head further into the palm of your hand. After a while, he finally opened them again and broke the silence. “Do you remember the day we left her here?”

“How can I not? It was hardest day of my entire fucking life.”

“You said that comin’ to see her, it wouldn’t be enough. That it would never be enough.” He paused, remembering, “I said it would never be enough for me either.”

“And?”

“We were right. This ain’t enough,” he admitted. “And every time that we leave here without her, it hurts just as much as it did on day one.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You blinked back the warm tears that had sprung to your eyes.

After spending a while watching Gracie as she slept, you and Joel decided it was time to head downstairs back to the guest bedroom to try and get some rest. Each of you took a turn to kiss her goodnight before shutting off the lights and quietly slipping out of her bedroom, closing the door behind you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #fic: tdtrt

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meazalykov · 6 months ago

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baby pink

sydney lohmann x reader

apart of the baby pink series

after winning against aston villa, your excitement couldn’t be contained.

as a center-back defender, scoring a golozo at arsenal had your team and the crowd blown in joy.

winning mvp for the match made you feel appreciated as well. this is your third season at arsenal and you've gotten this quite a lot, but your gratitude still shows.

as you're heading into the locker rooms, you look down at the pastel pink and baby blue kit over your body, the colors making you smile. baby pink and baby blue were your two favorite colors. so, having a kit in those colors– made exclusively for the women’s team too– made you happy.

after tonight, you’ll fly to germany to visit your girlfriend sydney lohmann, who plays at bayern munich. your three-year anniversary was coming up and nothing could ruin your happy mood about it, not even the yellow card you received in the match.

after the match, exhausted but happy from the win, you scroll through the photos taken during the game by arsenal’s photographers. usually, they will send the photos in a big digital file.

one photo in the pink and blue kit made you look like a star. you were– but you wanted to post and highlight that picture immediately.

(pretend that you're in the picture in replacement of emily fox)

y/n.l/n

liked by leahwilliamsonn, and 67,712 others

y/n.l/n the love of my life (this kit) 🩵🩷

comments

sydneylohmann so what am I.. chopped liver?

stanwaygeorgia HAHHAHA

laurafreigang ya

wosofan783 sydney you're still the love of my life dw ☺️

sydneylohmann I will ignore that caption

laurafreigang wow sydney turned into a football kit?

buehlklara yes.

gunnerwillamso32927 nobody is ruining y/n's love for pink

woso.com THE CAPTION BYE

fcbfrauenluvrr come to Munich ❤️

~view all 3,901 comments~

you giggled at all of the comments between you, your german friends, and your girlfriend. you miss sydney all of the time and can't wait to be with her.

there is a flower boutique down the street from your apartment, almost every week you'll receive a delivery of a bouquet of flowers. all from sydney-- and all pink.

sydney leaves the sweetest notes all of the time. you're grateful that your girlfriend makes an effort to show you how much she loves you from thousands of miles away.

you're enjoying the rest of your time at arsenal, since this is your last season. all of your fans don't know it yet, but some are suspecting that you'll join sydney in munich next year-- since there is no updates on a contract renewal with arsenal.

the next morning, you woke up to a knock at your door.

you groaned as you quickly rubbed your eyes and put your pink slippers on. walking out of the bedroom, you walked into the hallway into your living room to open up the front door.

the first guess of who could be at your door was caitlin and katie, who lived in the same apartment complex as you. sometimes, they come and eat breakfast with you because of how lonely you can get.

sometimes it feels like everyone on the team has a companion or partner, which leaves you feeling left out sometimes. luckily, you won't have to feel fomo for much longer with bayern's offer for you to join their club. thanks to references from sydney and georgia.

"hey cai-" your voice cut off when you saw a familiar face at the door.

a woman, early to mid 40s, named josie worked down at the flower boutique down from your apartment complex. she is a face you see every week at your door-- holding a huge pink bouquet.

"goodmorning josie." you smile as you, softly, take the bouquet of flowers out of her hands.

your hair was messy, considering that you gotten out of bed. however, josie has seen you looking worse during mornings where you're sick or tired from games the nights before.

"goodmorning, sydney got these for you." Josie smiled.

"yeah-- these are beautiful *sniff* and smell great too." you took a smell of the flowers. sydney got you pink flowers all of the time, just as you sent her red bouquets to her house in munich, but she changes the flowers up.

josie nodded and smiled at your observation of the flowers.

"i'm going to the airport soon to see her too-- so I'm surprised she sent me these." you commented.

"you shouldn't be-- its tuesday. have safe travels." josie says, smiling before walking away from your door.

sydney did send you your flowers every tuesday, which josie is right about.

you placed the flowers inside of a pink vase before pulling out the note card in the middle of the flowers.

"can't wait to see you later, honigbiene

-syd <3"

#sydney lohmann #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #gerwnt #arsenal #arsenal fc #arsenal women #laura freigang #georgia stanway #katie mccabe

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jiminrings · 6 months ago

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478 phase 3 part two (sneak peeks!! :D)

sneak peek 01

You have the terrifying idea in the back of your head, locked and loaded for anyone (read: Jungkook) to see if they take the additional second to ask you, that you’ll have to suffer all over again; that you’ll have to establish an ultimatum with a time limit of sorts, just so you can nullify the vacancy in you by pushing Jungkook away again.

Even now, a part of you wonders about Sora.

She’s no longer a part of your husband’s life, for good this time, yet she occupies your mind every once in a while as if she’s a bad meal on a bad day you have to stomach over and over again. You want to vomit her out completely and rid yourself of the taste of being inferior to who came before you, and yet, she lingers like a stray who knows its home.

You wonder if she’s happy with her life and how it turned out, even if Jungkook’s no longer in it despite being each other’s first for everything. You wonder if she ever thinks about Jungkook whenever it’s April 23 or when she walks past tent bars; if she’s ever married now and has a family like you and her first love do.

You wonder about Sora from time to time because if Jungkook really loved her, you fear that a little bit of it would always linger.

In the same way that you had really loved a multitude of things growing up, little bits of them would always linger even if you’ve sworn off them.

Your old obsession with tiny bottles of perfume you could only buy from boutiques (and never from malls) resurfaces whenever you visit your parents and magically, they always have a box filled up with your childhood shirts they’ve spared for Hwayoung to wear, imbued with a scent you can place to a memory, but not replicate.

The old fixation you had on patchwork blankets lingers whenever you head to the stockroom to store a PR package you could justify keeping for future purposes, only to see the unopened stacks of shirts you’ve gotten from numerous workshops, countries, and tapings as mementos throughout the years. They sit there in the dust, waiting patiently for you to take notice, but you avert your eyes as to not start a project you can’t bring yourself to finish.

The old liking you had towards the color orange stains on your fingers whenever you peel tangerines for Hwayoung, training a keen eye on her as she holds it for herself while slicing the portions you have at hand for her to eat safely.

You wonder about Sora and if she ever holds the regret of letting go of Jungkook for someone like you.

You wonder if Jungkook’s love for her, although dissolved and voided already, lingers through the existence of Eunsu — someone who’s much, much different than you, just like Sora was.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy and you stand by it, because holding Hwayoung while carrying the backpack that’s meant to sustain the both of you in a foreign country, just because you don’t want any excess baggage as you surprise Jungkook out of nowhere, has never felt lighter in your heart.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you wonder why the door to Jungkook’s hotel room is open by itself without needing a key.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you meet several pairs of eyes that either locks or avoids your own, all for a multitude of reasons.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, pupils shaking as you instinctively turn Hwayoung’s head away from the sight before you. “What’s going on?”

sneak peek 02

You know it’s going to come eventually.

You know the telltale dread that fills you up when something far bigger and beyond you is on its path to overtake you. The articles, the scrutiny, and the discourses haven’t even entered the stage yet you already feel sick because this time, it’s not only your name that’s going to be dragged into a situation you never thought would happen.

It’s also your daughter’s.

“We need to talk about Hwayoung,” you approach Jungkook as soon as you come home after your overtime, stilling in your tracks when you see Hwayoung sleeping in her pen.

Jungkook’s eyes linger on her before looking at you properly this time, the knot on his throat loosening at the prospect of what’s been bothering his mind repeatedly, but with the promise of a solution that he hasn’t arrived at, yet is bound to hurt him nonetheless.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

You sit on the far end of the baby blue floor couch as if you and Jungkook don’t share a home together.

“We look okay to her now but still,” you pause, looking down on your feet that are bruising from the heels you’ve been filming with all day and night. “I don’t want to put her in the middle of… everything that thisis.”

Jungkook nods, not only because he understands, but because he’s aware of everything, all the way from the guilt of being a husband to the guilt of being a dad.

“She’s bound to ask questions too, and even if she’s not asking them now, I feel bad having to keep her in the dark.”

“She’s still young, Jungkook. I never thought I’d say this, but I mean,” you sigh, shrugging defeatedly as you try to look for the right words. “If we keep including her in situations that she shouldn’t be a part of, we’re only bringing her closer to harm. For all we know, someone somewhere has a picture of her during the trip.”

“I-I tried my best. I moved as fast as I-…”

“I know. I also tried my best when we took the trip to you,” you exhale heavily, trying to wrap your head around the complexity of the past week alone; you can’t even understand why you pushed yourself to go back to work immediately after going back home. “I’m not saying that Hwayoung’s known already. I’m just considering the possibility because we could never be too sure.”

Jungkook knows you’re trying to get rid of the guilt that forms in him for that matter, but for everything else, he knows better than to assume of you.

“Do you…” he swallows. “Do you also think that Hwayoung needs a breather from us? Not the other way around, of course, but you know-…”

“I know what you mean,” you nod your head, the guilt of being a mom to a Hwayoung coming easily these days. “It’ll be good for her to be around other people. To be away from what we have going on.”

You and Jungkook share a guilt that’s only unique to having Hwayoung under your circumstances, and it’s a burden you want to get rid of without ever hurting her in the process.

“We can’t have my parents babysit. They read me easily and I don’t want them to know,” you confide, making your husband hang his head in shame even if it wasn’t your intention.

“My parents can’t either. They went on a cruise.”

“I don’t trust nannies,” you add, making Jungkook nod deliberately.

“Who can we trust then?” he sighs, rubbing his hand all over his face as he tries to scour his brain for people. “Who do we have in our lives that Hwayoung trusts too?”

Your head tilts after a few seconds in realization, and Jungkook’s mind drifts to his daughter’s godfather whether he likes it or not.

You and your husband have the same idea in mind, with one being less fond of it than the other.

“I’ll call Yoongi.”

dun dun DUNNNNNN :O wanna read chapter two + intermission 02, get early access to the finale when it drops, and read hundredssss of exclusive works?? u can head to my patreon :D !!!

also to get ahead of questions: chapter two, intermission 02, and the finale WILL also be up on tumblr!!! it's just that patreon citizens get early access to general fics (aka fics like 478 that are both posted on tumblr and patreon) + exclusive pieces :-)

++ if you're wondering about the posting schedule here on tumblr, i do it with a lag!! as soon as i post the finale on patreon, i'll be posting part two here ☝️🤓

#sneak peek

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deeranon · 1 month ago

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Whatever You Wish

Twisted Wonderland X Furina |

Summary: After Leona’s overblot, he is still avoidant of his family yet not as much as before. Perhaps he is willing to extend his perception of the word “family”.

Leona did not care for shopping. Shopping was Ruggie’s job. It was supposed to be, at least.

How did he find himself in the town at the bottom of the mountain? It’s simple: Ruggie was slacking off somewhere(he was working a shift at the Mostro Lounge). And Leona didn’t have time nor the patience to wait for the foolish hyena.

Why not just go to Sam’s store, then? A stupid question. If Leona was caught buying what he needed, he’d never hear the end of it from other students who clearly wanted a pummeling. Not that he really cared, but I’d be a thorn in his side.

Leona was buying gifts for his family in Sunset Savannah. Not out of kindness, no—and ew.

He had promised to come visit during a break, but was a no show once again. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it was just Farena and Cheka, but Farena’s wife knew of the supposed-to-be visit as well. Leona didn’t feel like getting on the Queen’s bad side, not to mention she was a warrior of Sunset Savanna.

Luckily Leona was always one step ahead, making the excuse of a Magift game being on the same day he was supposed to set off from the Dark Mirror. His family couldn’t argue against him being there for his team during a game. The gifts Leona planned to send were merely a formality: a way to sweeten the deal.

The townspeople at the bottom of the mountain crowded the streets, filling the cold air with such laughter and joy that Leona almost wanted to rip off his ears.

With only two more shops to go, and Leona’s good mood dead and buried twenty feet under, the man almost didn’t notice the fluff of unnatural white hair amidst the crowd of people on the other side of the street. But he did.

Standing before a shop window was Furina. Her tussled snow white hair streaked with baby blue was impossible to miss even in the largest seas of people. Her clothes were mundane compared to her natural beauty, they were monochromatic and boring—not to mention overly large. Vil was sure to have a fit if he ever saw Furina wearing the gaudy pieces of clothing, Leona surmised with a smirk.

The woman held multiple bags in her hands. Leona noted that many were from the grocery stores in town, a select few had clothing brand names on their bags. Furina stood beside a window for only a few seconds, head barely tilted enough to stare inside. Then, she continued on her way, pace quicker than needed.

When Furina was out of sight, Leona walked across the bustling street and sauntered up to the display to see just what the Ramshackle resident had been staring at. What he saw confused him.

A mannequin the size of a young adult was adorned with a plain wig, the hair covered in a rainbow of plastic ornaments and accessories. It wore a gentle white sundress that reached just below the knees and hugged the waist with a pearl colored ribbon tied into a bow at the back. The outfit was what Furina had to have been staring at, with rolls of imported silk fabric the only other thing on display, it wasn’t very hard to figure out. Looking up at the sign gave Leona all the information he needed. It was a boutique catered towards the younger generation and tourists. The prices were nothing to Leona, but they were the kind that Ruggie was sure to complain about more than he usually would.

Leona knew that Furina was practically on her own in Ramshackle, no other dorm members or people to watch out for her. She was strong in that regard. Self sufficient and incredibly smart. Otherwise Furina wouldn’t have outsmarted him before his overblot. Leona respected her for it. Though he would never admit the truth out loud.

Leona still remembered how Furina had taken control during the overblot. Vivid memories paired with the remembrance from the harsh sting of his cheek when she slapped him. Leona’s cheek had remained bruised for two entire weeks afterwards.

The day Leona met her in the garden, he didn’t think Furina was the type to not indulge herself when she wanted something.

Perhaps other views of her were only shallow at best.

Furina was long gone by the time Leona pushed away the familiar thoughts and walked away from the tourist trap to Rouge, a store brimming with makeup and homemade jewelry. Some pompous Pomefiore students had been going on and on about it after school while working on their science club experiment. Leona just so happened to overhear. Maybe he could find decent apology gifts that didn’t scream ‘I tried too hard, I’m insincere’ or ‘I didn’t try at all, sucks to be you’ in there.

With thoughts of his own past buried to deal with later, Leona opened the glass door and stepped inside the store. Bell singing gently as it closed. The shop, actually the first floor of the owner’s house, expanded into a decently sized wooden floored living room refurbished to fit rows of glass boxes filled with exquisite gem encrusted items on shelves. Polished wood tables held racks of mascara and a plethora of lipstick in so many colors Leona’s head hurt. The cashier, a child of the shop owner, greeted him with a minimal effort “welcome” before turning back to their book.

Leona lazily browsed the selection of warm colored lipsticks, walking at a snail’s pace as his mind attempted to comprehend the names of each red lipstick that looked exactly the same as the last. He was in no rush to grab something and leave, half-pleased at the thought of his dorm members losing their minds over the disappearance of their dorm leader on a weekend.

Finding nothing of particular interest with the lipstick he had picked up, it’s color dubbed “eternally young” according to the sticker taped to the table, Leona started for the eyeliner section on a different table when a light caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Leona turned to the source with the barest hint of interest. It was a set of gem inlaid hair accessories paired with two hair combs, all arranged in a plush black velvet box under the light of a window. Walking closer, Leona saw the laminated note explaining what was within the protective box and promptly ignored it.

Seven rose gold hair accessories held flowers crafted from pink tourmaline in their grasp, proudly shining in the sunlight like contented house cats.

Pearls shaped into teardrops hung from two rosy metal hair sticks shaped into sakura blossom branches in perfect bloom, rose chains weaving around the black velvet folds.

Three large tourmaline flower clips laid next to the sticks, white beads attached to golden wire shaped to imitate leaves. The three clips all had different flowers carved out. The first was a branch of the iconic sakura flower almost identical to the hair picks. The second a mix of small but intricate delphinium and lavender made of a gentle purple tourmaline swaying in an imaginary breeze. The third an imitation of freesia dotted with webs of small opal beads with the occasional yarrow flower.

Then, there was the rosy colored bobby pin with a single lily flower attached by four small claws between the petals.

Finally, there was the hair chain. It wasn’t decorated with flower shaped gems like the other items, only a branch of leaves on each clip with a singular tear shaped tourmaline hanging between the chains.

Along with the accessories came two wooden combs made from dark oak, one a wide-tooth while the other was a rake. Both had painted golden vines creeping along the handles, coiling like snakes steadily choking their prey. They were nowhere near as extravagant as the hair pieces, yet they were just as useful.

The items all came in a set, and the note went on and on in a monologue about the sentimental value as the maker carved the brushes and assembled the clips, then imbuing the accessories with a protective charm that would keep them from breaking or being too heavy. Leona skipped through it all until he found the price tag at the bottom on a smaller sticker.

10,894.99

It was dirt cheap.

After mulling over whether the accessories would seem sincere enough, Leona shrugged and called the cashier over. The person seemed surprised at actually being needed, jumping in place before looking down mournfully at their book before stepping away with a set of keys in hand. Leona walked back as they sorted through the keys one by one at a sloth’s pace.

“Gettin’ these for a lover?”

A voice broke the silence, making Leona internally groan. It was the cashier, fishing for small talk. This could not be any worse.

“Sister in law, actually.” They hummed faintly at the response, returning focus to their endeavor of finding the right key.

“Hmm. Then it wouldn’t hurt to tell you that the set is actually made for two people. Cuz’ of the two brushes,” Leona couldn’t care less. “Some of the accessories are for someone with long hair, the others made specifically for a short haired person.” Yes, Leona knew how accessories worked, please stop talking.

“If ya plan to buy all of it, you might want to save some for a later date—or a different person. Ya have any other sisters? Older, younger? You could give ‘em to her.”

That made Leona pause. He didn’t want to go through the hassle of splitting the uneven amount of accessories into ‘buy’ or ‘don’t buy’ categories, that was too much effort for something so little as this. Leona would buy the complete set, yet what would he do with the remaining accessories? They certainly weren’t his style.

Actually, he didn’t care about what happened to the unused pieces. Ruggie would take them off his hands at some point.

Yet the cashier’s last words rang in his head. “Any other sisters? You could give ‘em to her.” ….A younger Sister. Someone else who would use them.

A loud click brought Leona out of his thoughts. The employee had finally found the correct key and had already started to lift the velvet box from the case. Shaking his head to clear it of strange thoughts, Leona pulled out his wallet to grab a handful of bills as they approached the counter. The cash register chirped as the cashier typed away, scanning the code at the bottom of the box and placing it in a supposed-to-be fancy looking bag before pausing to look up at Leona with a plastic smile.

“Cash or card?”

Instead of deeming them with an actual answer Leona said “Keep the change.” then tossed the money at the cashier, taking the bag from the counter and beelining for the front door.

Leona was already out the door and starting for his final stop, unable to hear or perhaps uncaring about the cashier’s cry of “Wait, you overpaid!” from inside.

Walking down the street, Leona found himself walking past the same tourist trap Furina had been glancing at as he headed for the port market. The dress, unchanging since the last hour and a half, still stood smugly within its sill. He ignored it, taking a sharp turn to the left so that the store would be out of sight. He had a fake apology to finish.

—

Leona would never admit it, but it brought him closure when Furina came around to visit Savanaclaw regularly. In a school full of boys, Furina had higher odds of gaining unwanted attention. Ever since his overblot, Furina occasionally tread the line of danger and reluctance to check up on him. What started out as cautious check ins steeped in distrust had turned into a weekly routine Leona almost looked forward to. Almost.

Once or twice every other day or so, Furina wandered through the dorm mirror to spend at least an hour in Leona’s presence. The other dorm members didn’t even blink or raise complaints when she appeared, not anymore. Leona had silenced them all

The chill of October had stretched into November, and Furina’s visits were growing more and more common. In the time they spent together, Leona learned things about Furina just as Furina learned about Leona. Chess was a common game the two played, though Leona had yet to beat her. Other times they simply soaked in each other’s presence. Each visit was random, yet the time spent together was precious in a way.

When Furina appeared in the middle of November, gently knocking on his door in the dead of night, Leona snapped to attention. The moment Leona wrenched his door open and let her inside, she spilled everything with a smile on her face. If Leona hadn’t known Furina for so long, he would have thought she was delirious for smiling joyfully while explaining her bet against the scamming cephalopod. Fortunately, Leona knew Furina better than that.

The smile on her face marked her fear. Furina was terrified of losing the deal. She staked not only Ramshackle, but a great deal of mora—whatever that was—and her freedom on the contract. In any other situation or if it were any other person, Leona would have called them an idiot and kicked them out after making such a deal. Not Furina, though. Never Furina.

Furina had serious problems, always raising the stakes to a dramatic level. Leona had thought the motto “high risk high reward” described her once, yet he knew there was more to her than that. In her obsession for make it or break her deals was a deeply rooted desire to prove herself better or smarter than her opponent. A need for perfection, for total control.

A mask of faked superiority.

Leona also knew Furina was desperate to break the bad habit, to stop putting so much at risk and finally let old habits die. Yet her mouth ran with the mask before her mind could catch up.

Perhaps that was a part of why Furina never let herself indulge in her own wants.

Leona wasn’t good with comforting words. Never was, never will be. Watching as Furina almost imperceptibly shook, body barely containing her stress as she sat at on the edge of the wide bed with his blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Leona knew he should do something.

Heaving a heavy breath, Leona silently stalked over to his desk scattered with hoards of jewelry. Carding through the mess, Leona opened a drawer and slid out a velvet black box. Stealthily as he could, Leona opened the box to check its contents. The hair picks along with the wide comb and sakura flower clip had been mailed to the Sunset Savannah Queen along with the other gifts. The lily bobby pin was missing from the remainder of the set(thanks, Ruggie) yet Leona was more focused on the other items. Making sure they were all accounted for, Leona closed the box and quietly wandered to his closet where a large white box lay hidden.

Inside the box was a dress. The one with the silver bow and the same color as Furina’s short snowy hair.

Taking the box from the closet, Leona turned to make sure Furina hadn’t seen him leave her side before tip toeing his way back to his bed. Furina was unresponsive even when the mattress dipped from Leona’s weight, too deep in thought to notice anything going on around her.

“Oi, listen to me.” Leona called, snapping his fingers in front of Furina’s face as her eyes glazed over and her mind ate itself with regret. “You gotta snap out of it.”

Furina recoiled slightly at the sudden sight of Leona’s hand before her face, blinking repeatedly as her trance broke. Furina looked up at Leona with confusion, moth opening to question him when he pushed two boxes into her trembling hands.

“Just open them, would you?” He interrupted, poking a single finger against her forehead. Furina paused, brain slowly calming as she registered Leona’s touch. Nodding absently, Furina looked down at the two boxes with thinly veiled curiosity.

As if she were handling a fragile porcelain teacup, Furina gently opened the long black box. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the contents inside. Two expensive looking hair charms along with a thick comb and almost necklace-like chain and leaf accessory sat inside the plush velvet box. They all shone with a proud glimmer underneath the moonlight, looking more expensive than what Furina would ever allow herself to own with her minimalistic budget.

Furina’s hands, blue as both the midnight and morning sky, shook for an entirely different reason than fear as she opened the second box.

It was the dress Furina had wanted from the store in town last week. Folded perfectly to fit in the box, the dress felt unreal even as Furina reached out to pick it up, azure and pale blue thumbs feeling the soft fabric of the long moon white sleeves shift underneath her touch.

“I-I don’t understand.” Furina stumbled, eyes filling with tears. She didn’t understand why Leona would give her such beautiful things, especially after what she has done.

“What’s there to not understand? I got these for you because you don’t have to put up a mask around me,” Leona reached out, taking a flower clip and catching the hair blocking Furina’s right eye before he locked it in place above her ear. “Whatever you desire, you can get. No one is watching you here. You’re safe, Furina.” Thinking for only a moment, Leona tilted forward, resting his chin against the crown of her tangled hair in what was possibly the most intimate act he had ever initiated.

Furina stared up at him, eyes wide from shock as she processed his words. Tears started to fall from her eyes in a steady river. Leona shifted the boxes away from Furina’s lap as her once contained shaking broke loose, entire body quaking as she cried into Leona’s chest. Her hands gripped at his clothes, wrinkling the expensive fabric and dampening it with her tears, yet he didn’t care. Leona’s toned arms wrapped around Furina’s shoulders in a protective hold, keeping her safe in his arms as he closed his eyes listened to her weep.

Leona was bad at comforting others, so perhaps silence was the best medicine.

—

Yarrow- healing and love

Freesia-innocence and friendship

Delphinium-new life

Lavender- calm, purity, devotion

Sakura-life, death, renewal

Pink Lily-admiration

Saltwater Pearl-purity, wisdom, enduring elegance, often associated with the moon

Opal-good luck,an October birth stone

Pink tourmaline-love, compassion, an October birth stone

@idkfitememate here’s the birthday special! Also no, I can’t write anything without sprinkling angst in.

#deer anon #totally doesn’t matter that Furina is 500 years older #siblings #🦌deer anon <3 #genshin impact #furina #twisted wonderland #furina de fontaine #leona kingscholar #disney twisted wonderland #TWST

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chimchiri · 1 year ago

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Poll Adventure: Rarijack Dinner

Index | [prev] - Part 04 - [next] Special thanks to @babydarkstar for putting out the great writing

Previous Poll:

~~~

“What did you have in mind?”

“Orchard’s a bit of a wreck this time of year,” AJ says, glancing out the window at the apple trees lining the hills and hanging heavy with fruit. Not too far off, Big Mac’s standing on a ladder situated under a tree; she can see Apple Bloom yelling up at him from below, barrels full of apples at her feet. She says something with that adorable, sometimes annoying little smug spark in her eye, and Big Mac shakes his head with a laugh before tossing an apple down to her. She lunges for it with her hands clasped behind her back, letting it smack her right in the face as she tries to grab it with the few front teeth she hasn’t lost to the tooth fairy yet.

Yeah. Definitely somewhere else. AJ loves her family more than anything, but—Rarity deserves to go somewhere nice. Across the house and through the open front door, she can hear Granny belting out an old song about pigs in mud—

“I’m thinkin’ we go out. You know the restaurant in town? Haven’t been in a while, and I heard there’s a new menu. How’s Saturday?”

“That sounds simply divine, darling, and I would love to…but I can’t commit to this weekend,” Rarity says regretfully, and AJ nearly drops her phone, “I’m in Manehattan the rest of the week for my new line. It is critical that I’m here to make the finishing touches. Fancy Pants is personally endorsing the reveal and there cannot be a single mishap, not one.”

“Oh—“

“Please don’t think I’m avoiding you, darling. Perhaps we can schedule something for the same time next week?”

“No!” AJ begins rather forcefully, and she clears her throat so she won’t say something else before thinking, “I meant…no big deal. How about I come to you instead? I’m sure I can find somewhere good for you—for…us.”

There’s a short pause before Rarity responds.

“Applejack, are you sure, darling? Of course I’d love to have you here…but only if it wouldn’t be too much for you. If you aren’t busy with your duties on the farm, as well. I know that the big city isn’t exactly your cup of…cider.”

“Nothin’s too much for me when it comes to you, sugar.”

AJ’s heart flutters when she hears the soft, breathy laughter of her crush over the phone.

“If you insist,” Rarity says, the smile evident in her voice, “There are a few places I could call. I’m friends with practically everyone here, you know.”

AJ shakes her head. “You just rest up and let me do the work. I’ll get everything together.”

This isn’t up for debate—she’s dead set on being a gentlewoman. If this is going to be a real date then she’ll make sure it’s a damn good one. Which includes making sure that Rarity can just enjoy the evening and not have to worry about anything.

Rarity lets out a sweet laugh, which pitches high at the end, a little too strained.

“Oh, no, there will be no resting for me. After I finish this job, I need to come up with something spectacular to wear for our date. Now that we’re going out on the town, I need something divine—something fabulous…” she trails off before continuing, “But I’ll be ready. Just let me know. Oh! When will you arrive, dear? I’m not sure I can make it to the train station to greet you…I’ll be so busy…but you know where the boutique is.”

“I’ll find you. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Not to worry, darling. I doubt I could ever work nearly as hard as you do.”

AJ rubs the back of her neck, her face hot. “Psshaw, I’m not sure about that…”

The toe of her boot scuffs the wooden floor and she stares down at it, grinning like an idiot in the silence.

“Well…shall I see you Saturday, then?” Rarity posits.

“Yeah, Saturday.”

“Alright, darling, I’ll see you then,” Rarity says softly.

“Bye Rarity.” She sounds almost shy when she says her name.

There’s a click and then the call is over. AJ swears her heart skips a beat as she stares down at her phone. This is actually happening.

It still feels like a dream, and she hopes to never wake up.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She could run a marathon with all the energy tingling up her spine.

But—

It already looks like she’s been running at full speed—she’s drenched in sweat. Well…no surprise there.

“Ugh…I should shower,” she murmurs upon noticing the stains under her arms.

~~~~

AJ thought she’d have trouble sleeping, but after finishing her chores with a spring in her step, she knocked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next morning, however, anxiety crawled its way into her chest.

She couldn’t stop daydreaming at breakfast, racking her brain for a restaurant in Manehattan. There were so many other things she had to do before that, too.

AJ didn’t really consider what it’d mean to have a date in Manehattan—she was just so sold on the fact that their date couldn’t wait.

She has some nice clothes in her closet - but do they fit a fancy restaurant in the big city?

Does she even know how to behave so she doesn’t embarrass herself and Rarity during the date? Sure, she’s polite, but she’s not versed on the social mores of Mane—

Granny snapping her fingers and hollering her name pulled AJ from her thoughts, only to find all three family members staring at her curiously.

“Sorry, Granny…what was it you said?”

“Well, it’s been s’darn long since I asked ya, I can’t remember nuthin’ I said!”

AJ didn’t tell anyone yet. For one, she wanted to pull it through on her own. But she also didn’t want anyone to gossip beforehand and cause her embarrassment. She got enough inquiring questions about her relationship status, especially from Applebloom.

After breakfast, she got to work on the chores around the farm.

Anyways, now that she could think again…

Would she need a present for Rarity?

Was there anything else she needed to prepare?

What if none of the restaurants she’d thought of end up being a good fit for Rarity?

AJ’s mind spins and spins and now she lays in the shade of an apple tree, staring up at the sky.

Well, she’ll admit it—she’s lost and has no clue where to start.

Yeah, she’ll definitely need some help…

She could ask one of her friends. She’s close enough to any of them, especially Rainbow—but Rainbow can’t keep a secret to save her life, and she’d probably just tell her to “Be awesome, duh” and that Rarity likes AJ enough that she doesn’t need to be fancy. Which…is a great sentiment, but would it help in the long run? Mm…she’s not so sure. AJ feels like it wouldn’t stay a secret for long if she told any of her friends. Would she even mind? They’re all helpful in their own ways.

Then again…she could also ask her family for support. She hopes they would keep news of her date a secret. Oof…some of those conversations might be a bit more embarrassing, now that she thinks about it...but Granny’s lived and loved, and Big Mac always gives sage advice. Applebloom is her biggest cheerleader when it comes to anything at all.

---

Tag List: @mrrrpmeow @babydarkstar @butwerebothmares @chaosdraconequus @chrysaliswife @gaywombat @mulan-but-gay @jubjub05 @dan-chan-rn @sanybaby @horserepository @justletmesnarkandbark

#polls #rarijack #applejack #rarity #mlp #my art #poll adventure: rarijack dinner #big mac #big macintosh #granny smith #applebloom

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its-vannah · 2 years ago

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Being in a relationship with Eddie Roundtree | Headcannons

A/N: Blurring the lines between the book and show rn, forgive me

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

- You and Eddie met while the band was on break between their first tour and the recording of Look at Us Now (Honeycomb)

- He was instantly smitten with you

- You were one of the first girls who looked past Billy and had a soft spot for him instead

- He finally got over Camila after meeting you, something he didn't think would ever happen

- Your relationship was still pretty new when he went on the Seven-Eight-Nine tour, so you only went to local shows, namely the ones in LA and San Francisco.

- He called you one night from his hotel room, fuming because Billy had taken his guitar out of his hands and played with Daisy. You talked him through it and eventually got him to calm down. He told you he loved you before he hung up.

- When the band started recording Aurora, you were in the sound booth every day supporting Eddie in any way you could. Chances were, Billy did something to piss him off in some way. Everyone relied on you to deescalate the situation. You'd talk to him about it and tell him not to let anyone disrespect him but that Billy was the front man at the end of the day.

- He opened up to you about going to bass and how it really affected what he thought of the band. Don't get him wrong, he loved the band, he just felt like he was out of place there.

- When the Aurora World Tour started, you came to their first few shows, standing backstage as they performed. You were out of sight of the audience, but in Eddie's line of view. Every once in a while, he'd look over at you and smile while he played. The audience took note of this and the fans who were sitting on the far right side saw you standing there. It was in the tabloids that Eddie Roundtree had a serious girlfriend the next day, something the two of you had tried to keep under wraps for a while.

- You actually received a bit of aggression from fans who claimed they were in love with Eddie. One time, when he took you out to a date on one of his off days, things got intense with a fan who was following you back to the hotel the two of you were at. The cops were called and they took care of it, but the two of you decided you would head back to LA early for your safety.

- Camila picked you up from the airport and you couldn't help but fall apart in the passengers seat of her car. She comforted you through the strains being in a band and having adoring fans put on relationships, sharing struggles she had with Billy. It was then that you and Camila became as thick as thieves, as you were the only partners of anyone in the band—you didn't know about Karen and Graham yet and Daisy and Nicky were still waiting to come.

- You did, however, rejoin them on the road when they got back to the U.S. after a little over a month of being gone.

- Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had bought a ring at a boutique in Paris. It was at the bottom of his suitcase, tucked between his jeans.

- You were there when everything went down in Chicago. You sat in the audience this time and as soon as the show was over, you went backstage, sensing the tension between everyone. The security guard stopped you at first, but you told him you were with Eddie, but he held you back by the arms.

- Eddie saw what was happening and yelled at the security guard to "let go of his wife", not realizing what he was saying until he said it. When he let go of you, you ran to Eddie, hugging him and asking if he was okay.

- He tells you he doesn't know how much longer the band is going to last.

- That night, in his hotel room, he proposes to you. You say yes, pulling him into a kiss.

- When Eddie finds out the band broke up, he's devastated. He loved music, although the band, in his words, "had gone to shit" by the end of the tour. He revealed he'd miss the thrill of being on stage.

- You ask him what he's going to do now, and he just tells you he has to think about it. He wants to be working before the two of you get married so he can provide for you.

- When he becomes a record producer, the light in his eyes comes bac. The two of you get married a few months later. Because you loved Camila, she and Billy come with their three daughters, who are all flower girls in the wedding. At the end, trying to mend old wounds, Billy congratulates the two of you and wishes you the best. Graham also comes, bringing his girlfriend along. Warren shows up, albiet a little high, to support Eddie. Daisy doesn't want to cause any problems with Billy and Camila, so she stays away. Karen doesn't come either, already working on her own music.

- The two of you move into your own house in LA. This is the same home you bring your son into, and later your daughter.

- You and Eddie live out with music on your mind and love in your hearts, reminiscing about the good old days.

#eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree #eddie #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones and the six fanfic #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six #djats #fanfic #eddie loving #daisy jones #taylor jenkins reid

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novelizt · 2 years ago

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THE COMPLICATIONS OF A FAKE ENGAGEMENT ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

⚜ PART TWO

GENRE ➺ fluff + hoax engagement

SYNOPSIS ➺ you shouldn't be that beautiful in a bridal gown for a wedding that's fictitious to begin with

WARNING ➺ fem reader

DISCLAIMER ➺ I haven't read the books so the characterization/alignment in the books may not line up and it's been a while since i've written anything. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

NOTES ➺ inspired by the try-on wedding gown scene in “extraordinary attorney woo”

When a 17-year-old signs up to be a ghost hunter, the last thing she expects is to wind up in a bridal boutique. Especially not with her employer improvising the role of her fiancé.

Lost between fabrics of silk and satin is the story of how you ended up here. You're on the brink of insanity when Lockwood finally does his job as your make-believe fiancé. Chipping in with a compliment, blowing kisses, and raining applause. On a normal day, you could act as if all this was fine and that the flurry of frivolous women weren't tiring. But the dresses were heavy and the lights were blinding. You had his ring, and the look on his face was convincing—but twelve dresses in, and you were ready to crumple into a heap.

"Why the rush to marry?" Kelly—you think her name was—asks. She was the ringleader for the entire dress-fitting business.

She tightened the corset around you and clipped the fabric around your bust tighter. You couldn't even speak! Luckily enough, Lockwood took note of your lack of oxygen and answered for you. "We're trained agents."

Kelly pulled the cinches tighter. You wheezed your last wisp of air, gripping the fabric for release. "As in the paranormal kind?"

Lockwood's eyes shone with pride. "Exactly that! You never know what could happen on a case. Might as well marry while we're breathing, no? Oh- please let my girl breathe, she's turning blue."

The corset loosened and you sagged in visible relief. Nodding in acknowledgement, you said, "Many thanks."

"No worries, darling. Wouldn't want you dying before the flower picking." He smiled at you, and you withheld the urge to glare at him. "Have you found what you're looking for, love?"

You look at the rack and consider just lying... but there was a reason you were here. Judging by his still jumping knee, he hasn't found evidence at all.

Signing yourself to your fate, you sighed. "No..."

Kelly jumps with glee. Dragging you behind the curtains before Lockwood could get another word in. The last thing you see of him is a grateful grin. He disregards the simper you throw his way.

When he's sure you're distracting Kelly, he slips back to the file rooms. Shuffling through documents whilst keeping his ears open. It's not that hard to guess whether Kelly got you into another gown or not. The woman is exorbitant and loud.

He's got his hands on an incriminating sheet of evidence as he hears it. Kelly's compliments and your terrible attempts at buying him more time. Lockwood stuffs the sheet into his coat pocket and breaks for the lounge. In time for the velvet curtains to draw.

His eyes are adjusting to the brightened lights again. Yet, all is right when you're unveiled. Sheets of ivory silk rolling down in waves curl around your figure like it's made for you. It's less extravagant than the previous choices but it highlights you the best.

Whatever fake reaction dies in his throat and his jaw hangs open. Eyes leading up to your giggling face as Kelly pushes a row of spray roses into your hands to "complete the look." He knows all this is pretend. He can't help but wonder how different it would be if ghosts and ghouls didn't invade the world. If the pair of you were a normal boy and a normal girl. If you two weren't 17 and only here for another case. If you were actually dressed in that ivory gown, coming down an aisle as red as the curtains. In an alternate world, would it be reality?

He's considering the probability of it when you drop the roses to your midsection. Allowing his mother's old ring to gleam in the light before he pulls his eyes right back to you. He reads, "Have you found what you're looking for?" from your lips, and like a puppet on a string, he nods yes, and he's sure he mutters the word, too. But he's not thinking about the evidence in his pocket. He's thinking about you in ivory, and how much better it would be if you were his real bride instead of his fake one.

• i've been wanting to write for the lockwood & co. fandom for a while now hehe

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

#— ❨ 🌺 ❩ 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐀 ₊˚.༄#lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood fanfiction

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teddypickerry · 1 year ago

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Hi!! if you’re still doing requests would you do a loralie gilmore x fem reader one? maybe where they bond over liking metallica (sorry chris lmao) and their friendship turns into a relationship?

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍.

pairings — fem! reader x lorelai gilmore

word count — 876

warnings — literally just fluffy + flirty lorelai

a/n — first of all, never apologize to chris. secondly… WHAT UP MFS (saying that like i didn’t disappear off the face of the earth for a hot min) hope this tiny little blurb did you justice, i thought it was just cute. love you guys. thank you for messaging me + sending requests lately. you guys rock.

THE TOWN OF STARS HOLLOW was on the brink of Autumn, yet the sun was mistaking the New England town for a tropical paradise. Except the sun didn't accept the idea of paradise. Not with the continuous heat waves that had the town meetings cancelled and air conditioners blasting. Not a single long sleeve in sight despite it being the first day of September.

"This feels like a joke. This has to be a joke, right?" Lorelai Gilmore mutters as she walks down the side walk, fanning herself with her hand while trailing around in her heeled boots that felt like personal hell. Her best friend, Sookie, stood to her right wiping the bead of sweat from her forehead. "If it is, this is the cruelest joke ever."

The two regretted their walk from the Dragonfly Inn almost instantly and that thought only deepened as they walked the towns streets. Luke's seemed so far away and they were ready to give up.

"Watch out!" A voice called from the town square, as the two woman turned to see a ball coming in their direction. Lorelai moved out of the way and Sookie quickly followed, the ball nearly taking out their necks. A woman came jogging over and stopped with a quick glance at the two of them, grabbing the ball and tossing it into her arms. "Oh, sorry. That kid is not ready for soccer tryouts.”

Lorelai locked eyes with the woman who stood before her, wearing a pair of sneakers with shorts and a cut-up Metallica t-shirt. She looked like she somehow didn't break a sweat. Despite her athletic efforts. "Where did you come from, the freezer section?" Lorelai asks.

The unknown woman rubs her lips together before motioning over to the kid standing in the grass across the road. "My niece has shitty aim," She says with a quick smile.

"Well we can't all be... a… soccer player," Lorelai mutters as she realizes she doesn't know the name of a singular athletic star.

"Are you new around here?" Sookie asks the girl curiously as she searches her purse for her sunscreen. Y/N only nodded in response, "Just visiting my sister. She owns the boutique down the road."

"Oh yeah, I like going in there. It's like an episode of The Twilight Zone. I never know what's gonna happen in there," Lorelai chuckles as the woman only nods along. "Cool t-shirt, by the way."

"Metallica fan?" Y/N asks as she eyes her for a moment, noticing the pink tank top with a puppy on it. She found it hard to believe that this smiley woman would be fond of Kirk Hammett.

"Great band," Lorelai nods.

"They know how to play a tune or two," Y/N comments with a quick smirk making Lorelai smile. Clearly enjoying their little talk and what Y/N said next. "It's not too often I run into a pretty Metallica fan."

Lorelai smiles sweetly at those words making Sookie have to hide her smile of excitement with her hand. Before making an excuse to leave the two alone. "I'm gonna head to Luke's before I become bacon out here... nice meeting you."

Y/N gives her a nod as she walks past her, leaving Lorelai stood infront of her and only her. "Yeah, I'll meet you there."

She tossed the ball back over towards her niece who went back to kicking it around the gazebo. Lorelai's eyes still on her as she did so. Enjoying her figure in the summer clothing. "Well I should probably get back to her..."

"Yeah," Lorelai gives her a nod as she breaks out of the trance and looks over at the kid. "She's a cute kid."

"She is," Y/N nods as she gives Lorelai another look once her head turned. "Listen... I'm gonna be in town for a while."

"Oh?" The Inn owner says, obviously too awkward to mumble out something witty as per usual. Y/N nodded before licking her lips. "Yeah, I'll see you around?"

"Yep. It's Stars Hollow; we see everyone and everything. Not in a creepy way... but in a like, we're always looking. God, that sounded very opening scene of Halloween," Lorelai smiles awkwardly before chuckling away her nerves.

"Great movie," Y/N comments with a quick smile as she glanced down at the empty coffee cup Lorelai was holding. Questioning why she was on her second cup of hot coffee on a day like this... but noticing the sharpie'd name written on the side. "…Lorelai."

Lorelai furrows her eyebrows with another soft chuckle. "So you're stalker Michael Myers."

"No, I'm just a girl who can read," Y/N motions to the coffee cup with a nice smirk. Lorelai feels a grin grow at that as she looks over at the woman. "I'll see you later, Lorelai."

"You too, Y/N." Lorelai hums as she watches her head toward the street before turning to her with a confused look. Lorelai only grins as she starts walking to the coffee shop, "I can read too."

Y/N thinks for a moment as she crossed the street and walked back over to her niece. Noticing the ball by her feet. 'Property of Y/N Y/L/N'

"Well, damn."

#teddypickerry #gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #lorelai gilmore x fem reader #lorelai gilmore x reader #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano #rory gilmore #rory gilmore x reader #luke danes #gilmore girls fanfic

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 6 months ago

Text

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 8

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I spend most of Christmas Eve in bed relaxing and catching up on much-needed sleep after days of long, busy shifts at the cafe paired with hours of wedding and party planning, all while trying to stay in contact with my intriguing new phone pal. But much to my dismay, and appreciation, Stella refused to let me stay alone through the night. She insisted I come over for dinner and stay for Christmas. As in her words, “It would be an atrocity for my best friend to spend the holidays alone”. So, I had no choice but to kindly accept her demand.

As I walk towards the subway station my phone starts buzzing in my jacket pocket. I smile hoping it’s Jensen or Stella, but instead, it’s my boss. I sigh and brace myrself as I step out of the path of fast-passing pedestrians and lean against the brick wall of a fashion boutique.

“Stewie, Hey!” I answer as brightly as possible.

“Y/N, Hi. I know I agreed to let you have today off, and that still stands. We’re closing soon anyway. But I just wanted to let you know a package got delivered here this morning with your name on it. There something wrong with the mail at your apartment? Your neighbours stealing your packages again?”

“Uh…no. Not that I know of. I didn’t order anything.”

“Ah, well I’ll leave it in my office. You have a key, you can swing by through the back and pick it up whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m actually around the corner right now. Can I swing by now before you close?”

“Sure! I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Stewie. See you soon!” I hang up and rush down the street in the opposite direction, back towards the cafe. The sign’s already flicked to ‘closed’ when I get there, but there's light on in the kitchen so I go in.

“Stewie, it’s just me. For the package,” I call out as I walk towards the lit-up kitchen. As I get closer, the smell of fresh bread and cookies overwhelms my senses. “You know we’re closing for two days, right?” I call out as I round the corner into the spacious kitchen.

The short, round balding man, with just a few strands of grey hair, comes into view carrying a tray of shortbread biscuits straight out of the oven. His glasses, sitting on the tip of his nose, are fogged up. “Yeah, yeah. But I got a big family to feed and a tiny kitchen to do it with. I put everything I got into keeping this place open. I may as well make the most of it.”

“Good idea. So, uh, the package?” I ask as I eye off the golden biscuits, shaped like gingerbread men, wreaths, bells and candy canes. My empty stomach growls andI clear my throat to hide it, but, despite his age, old Stewie hears it.

“Help yourself. I can spare a few. Grab a takeaway container. You can even have a loaf of bread, they’ll be done soon…Wife wants me home before dark.”

“I couldn’t. They’re for your family. I’m just here for my package, remember?”

“Listen, I ain’t no Scrooge. I know your measly salary may make you think I am, but I pay you as much as I can. Outside the holidays, we’re barely making rent. Least I can do is give you a few cookies and some bread.”

“Stewie, I know you do your best for this place and all of us. We all know it. But if you insist, I do find it hard to resist your cooking. Rudie’s great, but you’re the master.”

“No need for flattery, kiddo. Go grab your package from my office and I’ll package up some cookies and bread for you.”

“Alright, thanks. You’re the best!” I smile at Stewie as I go into his office. Mamma Jo was his mother, who passed a few short months ago. She was the light of the kitchen whenever she visited to check on things. Stewie runs the place with as much passion as she did, yet he hasn’t baked since she passed, that is, until tonight. I smile, hoping he’s finally finding his passion again.

I spot a medium-sized cardboard box on the edge of the desk, I shake my head wondering what it could possibly be. Once I get close enough, I read the label.

To Y/NMamma Jo’s Coffee and Chocolateria204 5th Ave, New York, NY 10019

From Jensen Acklesc/o Management Beverly Hills, CA 90210

I quickly pull my phone out, snap a picture of the parcel and send it to Jensen.

Hey Superstar, this your doing? Thought you were in Texas?

I don’t wait for a reply, I put my phone away and go back into the kitchen with the box tucked under my arm and my overnight bag slung over my other shoulder. Stewie hands me two boxes of warm goods; I don’t look inside but they smell delicious. He looks at me dubiously as I attempt to carry it all.

“How far you headed, Kiddo?”

“Not far, it’s okay. I’ll manage,” I try to assure him, but he sees right through it. He gives me a look to say he doesn’t believe me; it’s the kind of look you would expect from a parent who’s waiting for their child to come clean. “My friend’s place in Lower Manhattan. She and her fiance invited me for Christmas so I wouldn’t be alone. Plus, I’m helping with the wedding planning.”

“If you help me pack all these up,” Stewie says gesturing at the cooling cookies and bread, “and clean up the kitchen. I’ll drive you.”

“I’m happy to help, but you do not need to drive me that far out of your way on Christmas Eve.”

“I don’t endorse free labor, so either you get out of here now, or you stay and help and then I drive you.”

Feeling the strain in my arms already and dreading the walk in the snow, I make a decision. I sigh and put everything down on a clear counter and then start carefully boxing up cookies. Stewie nods and starts packaging the loaves of bread, croissants and other pastries on the other tray. Once we finish packaging everything, I clean the trays, bowls and utensils while Stewie wipes down the oven and benches. Working in perfect harmony, we’re finished in no time.

It takes a few trips to load everything into his delivery van parked in the back alley. Despite his insistence that it’s all for his family, I know he’ll end up sharing with his whole block and it just makes me admire him more.

After shutting off the lights and locking up, Stewie skillfully navigates out of the alley and out onto the busy street towards Lower Manhattan. I provide directions to the best of my ability, using my knowledge of the few times Nick has driven me with some –a lot of–help from the GPS on my phone. AsI’m looking at the map I notice a text come through from Jensen, but I swipe up quickly to make it go away so I can focus on providing directions.

After a while, Stewie pulls up in Stella and Nick’s driveway. I thank him sincerely, collect my things and carefully trudge through the light covering of snow to get to the front door. I wave Stewie off once Stella opens the door. I’m instantly welcomed by the warm and enticing smell of roast chicken.

“I come bearing gifts, Merry Christmas guys!” I say as I signal for Stella to take the boxes of treats. She eagerly takes them as she eyes the other box at the same time. Luckily, though the smell distracts her and she hurries into the kitchen to put the boxes down and peek inside.

Nick peeks over her shoulder. “Sourdough? That’ll be perfect to go with dinner. I’ll put the store-bought shit back.”

“Rudie or Stewie?” Stella asks critically.

“Stewie. He’s finally coming back on board after everything,” I offer happily.

“Yay!” Stella says clapping as she reaches for a cookie, but Nick slaps her hand away.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” He looks over at my still full arms and nods towards the stairs. “Guest room’s all set up for you so you don’t have to pass out on the couch this time. And if that’s a gift for us it can go under the tree.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. I’ll just go put my stuff down,” I say with a smile before slipping upstairs to the guest room. I dump my bag on the floor and the box on the bed. I stare at it curiously. Then remember the text in the car. I pull your phone out to read it, but Stella bursts in.

“I tried to make it all nice and pretty and festive for my bestest maid of honor!” She says joyfully as she points out the little Christmas tree and tinsel decorating the dresser.

“It looks amazing! You’re the best,” I say brightly, yet distracted.

“You didn’t have to get us anything you know,” she says as she gestures at the box. “You being here and organising the bridal shower and helping with the wedding is more than enough. I know money’s tight at the moment.”

“Good, 'cause it’s not from me…Jensen sent it to the cafe. Stewie called and told me to pick it up, hence all the pastries and cookies. I wasn’t meant to go in today…”

“Jensen sent you a gift?”

“I’m not sure if he did or if he got his management team to. Maybe it’s an NDA and warning? He’s in Texas and it says California so…” I finally look down at my phone screen.

It was and I amI wanted to put my address, I didBut with no NDA my agent was against itBut I promise it’s from me

“He says it’s from him, his agent just wouldn’t let him put his address,” I explain, half to Stella and half to make yourself believe it. As I’m talking another text comes through.

Open it yet, Sweetheart?

“He asked if I opened it yet?”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Stella urges as she pushes the box closer to me.

I touch the tape but then withdraw and text him back.

Should I not wait until Christmas?

After a minute his name pops up on my screen. I look hesitantly between the phone and my best friend. She nods understanding and stands up. “I’ll be downstairs, but I want details when you’re done!”

I nod and shoo her out quickly before leaning my back against the now-closed door.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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victusinveritas · 9 months ago

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Summer 1962. Rio de Janeiro. At the Veloso Bar, a block from the beach at Ipanema, two friends—the composer Antonio Carlos Jobim and the poet Vinícius de Moraes—are drinking Brahma beer and musing about their latest song collaboration.

The duo favor the place for the good brew and the even better girl-watching opportunities. Though both are married men, they’re not above a little ogling. Especially when it comes to a neighborhood girl nicknamed Helô. Eighteen-year-old Heloisa Eneida Menezes Pais Pinto is a Carioca—a native of Rio. She’s tall and tan, with emerald green eyes and long, dark wavy hair. They’ve seen her passing by, as she’s heading to the beach or coming home from school. She has a way of walking that de Moraes calls “sheer poetry.”

Legend has it that Jobim and de Moraes were so inspired by this shapely coed, they wrote a song for her right on the bar napkins. It’s a good story, but it’s not quite true.

While Helô inspired the song, it was another Carioca who carried it beyond Rio. Astrud Gilberto was just the wife of singing star João Gilberto when she entered a NYC studio in March 1963. João and Jobim were making a record with tenor saxman Stan Getz. The idea of cutting a verse on “Ipanema” in English came up, and Astrud was the only one of the Brazilians who spoke more than phrasebook English.

Astrud’s child-like vocal, devoid of vibrato and singerly mannerisms, was the perfect foil for her husband’s soft bumblebee voice. Jobim tinkled piano. Getz blew a creamy smooth tenor. Four minutes of magic went to tape.

A year later, the song was casting its quiet spell of sea and sand on the charts, washing past the Beatles’ “I Want To Hold Your Hand.” It peaked in mid-June at No. 5, selling over two million copies.

“The Girl From Ipanema” went on to become the second-most recorded popular song in history, behind “Yesterday.” Covered by an A-Z gamut of performers, it’s become the ultimate cliché of elevator music—shorthand for the entire lounge revival of the ’90s.

Over the years, Helô Pinheiro (her married name) enjoyed country-wide fame, ranking with Pelé as one of the goodwill ambassadors of Brazil. She never settled on an occupation, dabbling in acting, then running a modeling agency. In 1987, she posed nude for Playboy (and again in 2003, with her daughter Ticiane). In 2001, Helô opened the Girl From Ipanema clothing boutique in a Rio shopping center.

Shortly after, the heirs of Jobim (who died in 1994) and de Moraes (who died in 1980) filed a lawsuit, claiming Helô was only inadvertently involved in the song’s creation and didn’t have the right to use it for commercial purposes.

Helô says, “I never made a cent from ‘The Girl From Ipanema,’ nor do I claim that I should. Yet now that I’m using a legally registered trademark, they want to prohibit me from being the girl from Ipanema. I’m sure that Antonio and Vinícius would never question the use of the name.”

After much ugliness in and out of court, Helô was able to keep the name for her boutique. Today, she reflects on the early ’60s in Ipanema with nostalgia. “I like the time when everything was prettier because of love, as it says in the Portuguese version of the song. I am still touched when somebody plays the song in my honor.”

—By Bill DeMain

Image: As a teenager, Helo Pinheiro was a regular on Rio's Ipanema Beach

#the girl from ipanema #brazil #brazil mentioned #vinicius de moraes #antonio carlos jobim #music history #1960s #rio de janeiro

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dark-frosted-heart · 1 year ago

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3rd Anniversary Event - A Beast’s Dream Fulfilled by Beauty - Sariel

Sweet + Premium Ending Combo

Premium is in Sariel's POV. Emma's POV will be in purple.

As a child, Sariel didn't even know who he was so he never formed a dream. All he had was the tattoo and the feeling he couldn't put a name to. However, some of the Rats had dreams.

~~Flashback~~

A former slave asks an ex-bandit what his dream is. The ex-bandit asks the former slave if he's crazy. People like them don't get to have dreams. Still, the two continue their conversation, sharing their dreams with each other. They may be the lowest class, but that doesn't mean they're not allowed to find a purpose in life.

Sariel snaps at the two to cut the chatter and focus on the task at hand. They're target's coming.

~~End Flashback~~

Dreams were just idle chatter that Sariel didn't really care about. Actually, if he had to say he had a dream, it would be finding out who he was. He just didn't realize it until now. And never thought he'd have another.

~~~

Sariel admits that he was being a little mean to Emma today. He did, in fact, find his dream all thanks to her. Emma didn't even notice. Sariel does plan to tell her, but he first picks her up. He asks that she let him thank her first.

Emma had hurt her feet from all the walking so the two stop at a boutique owned by an acquaintance of Sariel's. He removes her shoes, applies some ointment to her feet, and bandages them. Emma didn't think he'd notice. Perhaps wearing cute shoes was a bad idea.

Emma points out that Sariel's acting sweeter than usual. Sariel replies that he's in a good mood since he did a lot of things he normally wouldn't do. Never had he thought he'd spend a day off like this. Without Emma, he never would've known the pleasures in life. He had decided to devote himself to his country, so he was far removed from any sort of entertainment.

Sariel then recalls something the king had once told him. Even back then, Sariel was always working. The king asks why he doesn't go out and have fun on his days off. Sariel asks the king if he looks like the kind of guy that likes going out to play. The king worries because he doesn't look like the type to. He's still young, yet he's working all day. The king doesn't want to restrain him like that. He suggests Sariel go out into town and find something that interests him. Sariel doesn't think it's necessary. The king says Sariel's going to end up suffocating himself. Life's pleasures are where the heart is. He hopes that he'll find it some day.

At the time, Sariel didn't think it was necessary, but now he understands what the king means. All the burdens pile up unknowingly and end up wearing him down. It's not something he noticed until he met Emma. The time spent with her eases the burdens and and replaces them with pure happiness. The desire to experience the joy he had today, perhaps that was what one could call a dream.

Sariel asks Emma what she thinks his dream is. Considering what he had said, she guesses that it's playing and having fun to the fullest. Wait no, that doesn't sound right. She accidentally inserted her own desires. Except she's correct.

Sariel tells Emma that he'd like to experience more things with her. Though he still has a lot of work, he plans to take more time off. He had the time of his life today and would like to experience it again. For Sariel who's never had the chance to experience a normal life, this is huge. Emma says it's a nice dream. But dreams are meant to be fulfilled. She kneels down to Sariel's level, takes his hands in hers, and asks that he let her help in fulfilling that dream. Sariel wouldn't have it any other way. His dream won't be able to be fulfilled without her. Nothing's worth experiencing without her.

For a moment, Sariel thinks about what it would've been like if he and Emma had met earlier in life. Maybe he would've done what the king asked.

When Sariel's with Emma, he becomes someone different. Emma wants to get to know more about that Sariel. The two will learn together in due time. He wonders if that's also considered a dream. Funny how these dreams keep popping up one after another in his adult life.

Next up, Sariel's going to buy Emma another pair of shoes. If she's going to continue to accompany him, she'll be doing a lot of walking. He suggests something comfortable.

~~~

Emma stifles a yawn on the carriage ride home and looks down at her new pair of shoes. As she struggles to stay awake, Sariel moves to sit next to her and wraps an arm around her shoulder. He tells her to sleep against his shoulder but she refuses. He then lays her head down on his lap and Emma finds herself blushing. She goes to sit up but a hand on her forehead gently keeps her down. Is she going to deprive him of this pleasure, he asks. Seeing the happiness in his eyes, Emma naturally relaxes. The repeated motion of fingers stroking her starts lulling her to sleep, but she tries to resist. She tells Sariel that she also found a new dream. To fill him with memories of her.

~~~

That night, Sariel carries a sleeping Emma back to his room, having fallen asleep on the carriage ride home. He lays her down on the bed and her brows furrow. As he starts to change her clothes, she mutters his name and grabs his clothes in her sleep as if telling him not to leave. Really, she's too adorable.

As Sariel goes to soak a towel in a bowl of water, he almost couldn't recognize his own reflection as the person staring back had too soft of an expression. If that's what it's like to have a dream, then it's not so bad.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri summary

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ladyammesia · 6 days ago

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#Breaking! :

Local amnesia patient says she can remember stuff?! "I still remember playing new style boutique 2 as a kid, but I don't remember yesterday" is all she says in response to the backlash she has received. The movies say amnesia makes you forgot everything and I blindly believe that! Here's a deep dive into her personality and more!

Welcome to my little hospital in the corner of the internet

Reminder; you are enough plus you're also the funniest kernel on the cob and if you can't see that then we'll help

Hello, my name is Ritaᥫ᭡

I'm a girl, Moroccan, Lebanese, german and a Muslim

"You're not a real Muslim for Liking this specific fandom!"

First of all, this is only fiction, you're acting like I'm worshipping a fictional God which I am not, unless it strays me away from Allah or is very explicit then it isn't a big deal. Just wanted to get that out of the way<3

This here is just a place for girl blogging and showing my hobbies including;

Sewing

Belly dancing

Online stuff

Reading and writing

Cooking and baking

I also like karaoke with my friends once in a while

Listening to music

I'm well versed in the magical girl scene (I'm still trying to watch all of Precure lmao)

I like music a lot and I'm always happy to get recommendations!! Just know I'm not some super crazy fan who knows everything (-ω-；)

I like a lot of things

I also am in a lot of fandoms

I don't want to seem like a pick me or smth for making u aware of this but I am mentally ill I have a diagnosis that I am not allowed to know and/or see/get in paper until I am older

"You're just saying that to convince yourself your different!"

I'm in fact not at least where I am it's for safety purposes but I do know a bit of what I have from other therapists and slip up's my psychiatrist had; ADHD, amnesia, extreme depression, maladaptive day dreaming, language development disorder and a few more that I can't know yet and will soon find out

If u call anyone a pick me for saying what they have of having something then you're a pick me yourself for putting others down and/or trying to make them insecure!! >-<

I hate people who call everything expressive or alternative cringe/people who call everything that isn't mainstream and following sheep like cringe

Whoever says vivid strike is a good magical girl anime needs to be locked up because that anime is just lolibait and sexualizing kids><

Please call me Janaht! Nice to meet you, this is a place for girl blogging and just living out my little girly dream but this will also be set to let everyone anonymously tell their story and connect with other, I want this to be a place for vent to people and get some kind of tips and tricks from other girls this is a reminder to not put any NSFW or something explicit in my ask box or say smth explicit I want this to be safe for everyone ⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

I write reader inserts/x reader's on a two other blogs!

Vivid strike is that anime with a white haired girl beating up three girls up btw

Dni; lolicon, shoto, pedos, Israel supporters, rude people, people who call others pick mes for having a body or interests, misogynistic people, misandrists, anti feminists, never come near my blog if this is you, people who take time out of their day to hate, people who hate other religions than their own, people who just hate religion for no reason, girls who mock other girls/put them down for having body hair acne or smth else that's mostly uncontrollable, idc if you're a girl or a guy but if you're a bad person I will not hesitate to block and report you, homophobes, people who use religion as an excuse for homophobia just because your religion doesn't support it doesn't mean you should harass someone since that's also a sin, BOTS WHO TRY TO SCAM YOU AND/OR S3X BOTS and just rude just bums in general y'all need to leave immediately Boo tomato tomato no one likes a deadbeat like you

Honorable dni mention; people who say to mentally ill people to just pray it away, how I learned it and how my semi religious mom told me; "god gave you these disorders as a test, to see how strong minded you are and if you will push through to the end" this doesn't need to be said to everyone but you have to accept that and let people talk more about their feelings

This got a bit long but I just want to be specific to make sure people are safe!! >:3

🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰

Feel free to: vent, complain about something happening to you, ask for tips from me or other girls, talk about your complicated relationship with religion (don't worry we all feel like that sometimes but you can always find your way we'll be there to help), use my ask box or text me to connect with an interest we have or to ask a question about an interest we share, using my comments or smth else to make new fellow friends with the same problem/similar people even if it means spamming me, but please don't put gore or smth in my ask box I'll allow a few things like smth from lacey games but put a trigger warning and a lot of spaces and dots to let people scroll fast without seeing it

Ex:

Continuing; I can't stress this enough but I want this to be safe and fun for everyone here so no gore weird stuff or anything that may be harmful/triggering for someone, "why would a muslim allow lgbtq people on here?" They aren't making me sin, want me to sin or want me to give up my religion that's why I allow them on here and they aren't hurting anyone (if they do then I'll block them like anyone else), more to be added

A few rules;

you may not agree with my or somebody else's views on life but that's no reason to harass them don't do that,

don't be weird and icky towards someone,

NO MEANS NO,

LEAVE ME ALONE MEANS YOU NEED TO LEAVE THAT PERSON ALONE WHEN THEY'RE LIVING THEIR LIFE WITHOUT HARMING SOMEONE,

if I don't see or miss someone who's harassing you or someone else just ping me in a reply and block and report them ASAP,

Everyone deserves respect until you're given a reason not to, if your religion does say you aren't allowed to respect someone for a sin they're doing or smth else then that's ok in my eyes but please don't harass them that's basic humanity

This blog is also supposed to be a bit like one of those "virtual older sister" places where u can say smth u r too embarrassed to say IRL to someone u can come here, go anonymous and ask what you want to ask ( example; advice tips and or tricks or just friendship advice) then I'll be here to help or find u an answer, if u have an answer for someones problem don't be shy to say it! And it's ok if u don't want to say or are too shy,

This is getting long so feel free to ask me smth if you're still confused or want to make something sure

More to be added or until I can make this cute and aesthetic<3 sorry this got so long but I'm glad u read it until here <33

Anyway if u couldn't tell I want this to be like a little hospital for people who never had someone help them learn important stuff like cooking, how to deal with girl problems, how to pick your fights etc. I also want to try and give friendship advice or let you vent lol

- xoxo Janaht

Last updated; 17:46 Friday the 3rd of January 2025

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schrijverr · 1 year ago

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I Found Myself a Cheerleader 15

Chapter 15 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, everyone’s life seems to be going in the wrong direction as Vecna rolls into town as they all seem to distance themselves from one another. Meanwhile, Robin has developed a crush on a certain cheerleader and it isn’t Steve.

On AO3.

Ships: steddie & buckingham

Warnings: internalized homophobia, homophobia mention, f-slur, bullying mention, HIV/AIDS crisis mention, racism mention, eating disorder mention

~~~~~~~

Chapter 15: The Arrival of Vecna

After new years, Steve feels like his life has been spiraling further and further out of control. Yet he cannot do anything, but stay. He can only watch and cling on as the roller coaster continues in a way that seems safe enough, but also like it can fall apart at any moment.

It’s just been a compilation of things, honestly. It feels like his fight with Eddie was a turning point and now, in a horrible domino effect, it is all getting worse from there.

Insecurity has been creeping up on him with the words of his father in that stupid clothing boutique and the fight with Eddie that came afterwards. Eddie, who is still ignoring him. Neither of them have said a word to the other since then.

He still feels conflicted about it. He hates what he did to Eddie and he wants to tell him how he didn’t mean it, but Eddie has taken to staying behind and sending the kids ahead, so he won’t have to see Steve’s face.

Steve has stopped getting out of the car. Just watches the school entrance in case he catches a flash of curly hair that he adores so much. His heart aches to make it right, to have dimples and chocolate eyes back in his life. Another part of him thinks it might be easier to be rejected, left in the dust. To be hurt, so he can get over it. To find love elsewhere.

Chrissy fake breaks up with him two weeks into the new year. Ever since then, he has been throwing himself at every girl that has come into Family Video in an attempt to cover up for all the emotions he’s feeling, but can’t put into words.

A few girls have actually taken him up on his offer and Steve has gone through with it, because he doesn’t think a straight boy in his position would refuse. It hasn’t been the most comfortable, but nothing he hasn’t done before and it’s just a task to get through.

Chrissy and Robin both have expressed concern about his behavior, but Steve will not listen to them.

The two have been hanging out quite a bit, since they’re stuck in school together and Steve is glad they’re getting along, but it’s annoying that they now team up together. It can be quite funny when they’re just ribbing each other, but more recently they’re being concerned together, which makes Steve want to walk into the forest never to be seen again. He doesn’t know why.

Right now is such a moment, where he can feel their eyes on his back as he leads a girl through the store, putting on his charm.

Steve is pretty sure she has a boyfriend, so hopefully this won’t end in another disastrous date. And for now he tries to feel validated by how she giggles and twirls her hair. No one will question him if he goes on like this. Next time, there will be more evidence needed than a few slurs, a picture in the year book, or the fact he isn’t married yet. Next time, he’ll be safer.

It’s for the best, so he ignores the stares of Chrissy and Robin as he flirts with the girl, whose name he does not know, pretending to be disappointed but understanding when she tells him about her boyfriend.

He rings her up, having to bump Robin out of the way, before watching her go with smile in place that he drops with a sigh once she’s out the door. Robin takes the moment to pipe up: “You don’t have to keep doing that, you know that, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grits, playing dumb, because he isn’t in the mood for a lecture. He already feels uncomfortable enough in his own skin.

“We’re just worried, Stevie,” Chrissy says with those big eyes of her that Steve has always been a little weak for and she knows it.

Steve sends her a glare and scowls: “Nothing to worry about.”

“Dingus,” Robin huffs, a little annoyed by how he’s avoiding the topic. It hasn’t become a thing yet, Steve could never not show up when she needs him or vise versa, but he knows how much she hates that he’s shutting her out.

And he does feel guilty about it. Her remembers how she once confessed to him how everyone always seems to leave her behind. In the darkness of the night, Steve had promised he never would, but now he’s pushing her away.

The guilt eats at him and he doesn’t want to do a repeat of his behavior of when he fought with Eddie. He doesn’t want to fuck up like that again. So, he takes a deep breath and pleads: “I know, okay, I know. Please, just- just drop it, okay?”

It is the closest he has come to acknowledging it and Chrissy and Robin both share a look before looking back. Robin reacts first, she takes his hand and gives him a crooked smile: “Alright, dingus, okay.”

“We’re here if you want to talk,” Chrissy offers, also smiling.

Steve does not know what he did to deserve friends like this, but he feels incredibly fortunate. He smiles back and softly says: “Thanks.”

He wants to move on from the topic now, but he doesn’t know how. Luckily, Robin can practically read his mind, so she turns to Chrissy and says: “Hey, Chris, how is cheer going? Band is already practicing for the prep rally, you guys too?”

Chrissy lights up and excitedly starts talking about the new routine they’ve been working on. On another day, Steve would immediately get sucked into the topic, however, today he takes a second to recover before going to dive in.

Because he’s taking that moment, he suddenly notices how Robin is looking at Chrissy. Chrissy is smiling brightly as she talks about cheer and Robin is watching her, only following along, because she’s friends with two cheerleaders, thus has learned too much through osmosis, partially against her will. However, she doesn’t seem to mind, she’s smiling along, a little blush covering her freckles, as she stares at Chrissy.

Holy shit.

Robin has a crush on Chrissy. It just hits him as he watches her. He hasn’t heard her about Vickie for a while, but he hadn’t realized that was because she likes someone else. Because she likes Chrissy.

He isn’t subtle about his realization either. Well, he is, but not for Robin. He is still holding her hand and squeezes it in surprise when he notices, looking between the two.

She looks at him when he squeezes and sees him glancing between them. Her eyes grow wide and he can see in her eyes that if he even thinks about uttering about saying anything while Chrissy is still in a 1 mile radius of Family Video, she is going to murder him.

Steve knows the feeling, so he quickly nods to let her know he gets it, before jumping into cheer, so that Chrissy won’t notice the hiccup.

Of course he had noticed the two getting closer and retrospectively the first time Robin saw Chrissy was pretty gay with how she spluttered and was rendered quite speechless, but he never really thought about it like that. A part of him still can’t fully fathom that anyone would be attracted to either of them, even if they are objectively attractive.

However, he manages to keep being normal until Chrissy has to go home. She hugs Steve first and he squeezes her back, before he watches her hug Robin, who seemingly explodes. He hadn’t know she could blush like that and has to bite his lip not giggle at her.

Though Steve has to admit, Robin is not the worst, not like he’s seen her with other girls she has liked. She isn’t tripping over herself rambling, instead just does an awkward smile and doesn’t really hug back, as she splutters a goodbye.

They both wave as Chrissy leaves and Steve drops it the moment, she gets into the car and he turns to Robin. Robin, who is blushing and not meeting his eyes. A shit eating grin creeps up on his face and he leans against the counter next to Robin as he drawls: “So… Chrissy.”

“Oh shut up,” she squeaks, pushing him away without looking.

Steve pouts and comes right back into her space and whines: “Oh come on, you bullied me about Eddie, I told you everything. You can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

Now Robin looks at him and she doesn’t look like Robin at all. Steve stops and looks at her, frowning as he takes in how she is hunched over, bites her lip anxiously, plays with her fingers, loosing the liveliness he loves about her. Gently he asks: “Hey, you okay?”

“You’re not mad about my crush on Chrissy?” she asks in a small voice that he hates on her. He likes how she cackles and rambles, not this.

“Of course I’m not mad,” he tells her. “Why would I be mad that you like her? She is super nice and a cool girl. Was inevitable, honestly.”

“It was not,” Robin scoffs, before she asks: “Isn’t it, like, against bro code to like someone’s friend?”

“Robin, you are also Chrissy’s friend,” Steve points out.

She has the audacity to look surprised by that statement and to then ask: “I am?”

“Yeah, Robs, you are,” Steve says, unsure how she can’t know that. “You two are always hanging out together, you eat lunch together. She asks me how you’ve been when you have to work while we hang out, because I’ve seen you last.”

“Oh, I thought she only did that to me, because you’re friends and I’m just also always there,” Robin says, scratching the back of her head.

“Gods, I love you, but you’re also an idiot,” Steve informs her.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Robin pouts, but she is also grinning, which is a win.

“You can be offended later, tell me about your crush now,” Steve demands. “You finally developed taste, I have to know more.”

“Screw you, dingus,” Robin exclaims as she pushes him.

Steve wrinkles his nose and replies: “I’d rather you not.”

“Iewww,” Robin shudders, but she’s laughing too. Both of them taking a moment to giggle, before Robin sighs wistfully and says: “She’s just so pretty.” Then Robin groans and boinks her head on the counter. “And painfully straight. I listened to her talk about Tom Cruise for like an hour yesterday. The worst thing? I didn’t even mind, because she looks cute when she’s excited.”

Steve graciously suppresses the urge to laugh at her and just pats her back in a sympathetic manner, because he knows how much that sucks. “You’re gonna be okay, Robs. It sucks to have a crush on a straight person.”

“How would you know?” she asks, coming up from where she has buried her head in her arms to glare at him. “Eddie has taken to parading around with a hanky in his pocket, like I won’t know what that means. You had a chance.”

Had a chance, Steve repeats to himself, feeling a little stab. He could have if he hadn’t been so scared and such a dick. But Robin is lamenting her own crush, so he’s not going to be sad about his love life, especially because that will be an invitation to talk to him about how he’s flirting with girls everywhere and Steve knows what Robin is doing. She hopes he’ll bite and won’t ask more about her new crush that she has been trying to hide.

So, instead he doesn’t bite and just says: “I’ve had crushes on other people, you know. And I didn’t have a chance with them.”

“Who?” Robin demands, now fully dropping the gloom, much to Steve’s relief, he hates seeing her sad.

“Jonathan,” he admits, wanting to jump into a ditch and hide the moment he does.

“What?” Robin exclaims with glee in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me that, dingus. That is important to know. You had a crush on the guy that stole your girlfriend.”

“I mean, we fought and it kind of made me realize some things,” Steve shrugs in embarrassment.

“You had a crush on him because he beat you up?” Robin asks, eyes nearly falling out of her sockets as she interrogates him.

“No,” Steve scowls, crossing his arms. “And we were talking about your hopeless crush, remember?”

“We can do that later, I have to hear this,” Robin waves his protest aside. “If not because he beat you up, then why?”

“He just made me realize I didn’t want to keep being King Steve when he beat me up,” Steve explains. “And then when I went to apologize we had to run from the demogorgon and he grabbed my hand and pulled me to safety. And I realized I liked that a little more than I should.”

“Oh my god, that is the best thing I have ever heard,” Robin squeals.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Steve replies, hands over his ears.

“No, come on, this is great,” Robin grins. “I’m never going to let you forget that you had a crush on Jonathan because he held you hand.”

“Fuck off, I also held your hand, didn’t get a crush on you,” Steve pouts.

“Not really the right demographic, now am I?” Robin counters. “Unlike what you want to make everyone think. What happened there? Are you okay?”

“No, we’re not turning it around on me,” Steve snaps. “I meant it. I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just talk about your crush and let me forget about it, okay? Please.”

Something in his voice must tell her how serious he is, because she nods seriously, despite obviously not wanting to and collapses back over the counter, lamenting about Chrissy in her cheer uniform and her soft cheeks and adorable giggle.

Despite having been friends with Chrissy for about a year now, Robin mentions things that Steve has never consciously registered about her. It’s odd but interesting to look at his friend through different eyes. Like, he never really noticed Chrissy had dimples, but when he thinks about it, she totally does.

It’s actually really cute how much Robin likes Chrissy, but Steve is also scared for her. He knows Chrissy is cool about the gay thing, though that might not translate to lesbians, since Robin hasn’t come out yet. However, that does not mean, she won’t break Robin’s heart.

Steve cares about both of them very much, but he will probably choose Robin, if this crush blows up in their faces. He might not have known Robin the longest, but they’ve been through so much together. You don’t just forget about that. And, despite how he is partially ignoring it, Robin is also queer, he will always support her and understand her struggles. Even if that means loosing Chrissy in the process.

Fuck, he just hopes Chrissy is at least cool about it, or that Robin’s crush blows over before something can happen.

Over the following weeks, it seems like life hates him more and more, as it continues to get worse and worse. It’s nothing big, but life seems to get lonelier.

Robin, of course, still fills his every moment when she can, but she still has school and finals are coming up as well. So, he sees her primarily when driving her to school, or at work, or when they’re both failing to fall asleep.

Mike has never liked him, so his lessening in appearance doesn’t come as a surprise. While Dustin still comes by, but less often than he used to, swept up into Hellfire club, robotics team and the never ending homework of high school. Meanwhile, Lucas has made varsity team, so he is also busy. Steve is so proud of him, but he just hopes that the basketball team doesn’t chew him up and spit him out while Steve can’t look out for him.

Lucas and Max have also broken up, so he doesn’t hang out with Lucas at the trailer park anymore either. He still has gone by to check on her, but she isn’t around or doesn’t open the door. Whenever he is there, he can feel Eddie’s trailer judging him from behind. So, he stopped.

However, he still trains with Lucas from time to time, teaching him things about basketball that he still remembers from when he was star player on the team. Like today, just the two of them shooting hoops on the Sinclair’s driveway.

It’s Wednesday and Chrissy canceled on Steve. She has been doing that more often and Steve doesn’t know what to do about it. Whenever they do hang out, she is still herself and Robin doesn’t note much out of the ordinary if the amount of times she waxes poetry about Chrissy’s smile is anything to go off.

For now, he tries to put it out of his mind and focus on Lucas. He yells: “Don’t dribble too hard, just above the knee. Stay in control.”

Lucas switches up his dribble slightly and Steve immediately has a harder time taking the ball from him. He can see in Lucas’ grin that he notices it too. They twirl around each other for a little longer, before Lucas can make a shot.

Both of them turn to watch as the ball arcs through the air, before bouncing on the rim once, twice, before falling next to it and rolling away with a slight bounce. Steve grimaces and forces a cheer in his voice as he says: “You’ll get it next time.”

He goes to get the ball, leaving Lucas a second the wallow in private, before turning back. In that time, Lucas has slumped on the steps of the house in a way that suggest that he isn’t getting up again. He seems done for the day, but the defeated pose doesn’t sit right with Steve.

So, he sits down next to Lucas and lets the quiet hang over them for a second. Then he asks: “You doing okay?”

The boy next to him sighs in a way that makes him seem way older than he should be. He shrugs, then pauses, before shaking his head. “Not really, no.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve offers. He might not be the best at comforting, but he at least knows what Lucas has been through, what he has seen. Sometimes it’s enough to be understood.

“Max has been distant lately,” Lucas says. “She barely talks to us in the hallways of school and we never see her anywhere else. It’s like she’s a ghost sometimes. I don’t know what’s happening. She seemed fine a few weeks ago.”

Steve has noticed the same thing, but he doesn’t want to worry Lucas more when it’s obviously eating at him. So he takes a moment to think. Then he replies: “Max is a tough cookie. She just needs a little bit. Billy’s birthday is coming up, I’m sure that must mess with her a little. She’ll reach out again when she’s ready.”

“You really think so?” Lucas asks, finally looking up from where he’d hung his head. It’s a little like he’s perking up with the glimmer of hope.

In all honesty, Steve isn’t sure. He likes to think she will, but he could be wrong. However, he doesn’t want to rip away the hope he has given Lucas, so he just smiles: “Yeah, I do.”

Lucas smiles back and Steve feels a little guilty, but also glad to see him smile like that. Lucas has already been through much, much more than he should. He wants Lucas to be happy. He still remembers how terrified he looked as Billy had him pinned. It still appears in his nightmares, the what if he hadn’t been on time plaguing him.

So, he pushes away the guilt and moves the topic to something more fun. “You’re becoming really good at avoiding my blocks. A little more and I won’t stand a chance against you.”

“Thanks,” Lucas huffs with a small laugh. “Now if only coach saw that and I could be on the court next game instead of being a bench warmer.”

“Don’t be to hard on yourself, man,” Steve tells him. “You already made varsity in your freshman year, that’s huge. Most don’t make it until the second semester sophomore and then they’re still bench warmers, because coach wants to give the older players scouting chances. Trust me, next year you’re going to be star player.”

“You think so?” Lucas asks.

“Yeah, I do,” Steve says, this time not lying. Lucas is a talent. He adds as a joke: “I might not have been on the team in a while, but I still remember Jason’s try outs for varsity when I was star player in junior year. All his talk is a recent development.”

Lucas is smiling at the start of the sentence, but as he goes on, he sees something dim in how he holds himself. Steve doesn’t think he said anything to get that reaction and frowns: “Hey, where is your mind going off to?”

“The team,” Lucas says, sounding a little hesitant.

Steve still remembers what dicks the team used to be, both when he was on it and when he got bullied away. His heart stops beating as a fear seizes him. “Are they being assholes to you?” he asks immediately. “Because I still have the nail bat and I can have a talk with them.”

“No, no, not that,” Lucas quickly says, which is good to hear, but there is something in his tone that makes Steve suspicious.

“But…” he prompts when Lucas keeps his lips together as if he is keeping something in.

Lucas looks away and rubs the back of his head. He lets out a deep breath, hyping himself up, before looking back at Steve and admitting: “They’re just saying really messed up things about you.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Steve says out loud, he didn’t expect that. Well, he did. He had just hoped the shine would have worn off by the time the kids got Hawkins High, but apparently it’s still bad enough that it got to Lucas. Though Chrissy mentioned how Jason seemingly still has it out for him ever since she rejected him for Steve.

A flash of embarrassment goes through him as he imagines what the others on the basketball team might have said about him. He is well aware of what rumors those boys spread. About how he’s a fag, and a whore fag at that. That he’ll get on his knees for anyone willing to give him the time of day. That he was a filthy queer that stared in the locker rooms. That he was a pussy that hid behind a group of girls. How easily he goes down after a punch. How easily he takes it.

He has heard it all when he still walked those halls. He learned to ignore it and he learned to lie about it to the kids, because he didn’t want them to ever hear that about him. To have the image he held with them be tainted. But they had.

At least Lucas had, because if Max had heard Billy didn’t keep his promise, she would have been upset with Steve and come to him. And Dustin obviously wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut about it.

Fuck, Lucas knows those rumors.

Lucas has heard how Steve might be gay, something he has kept away from all the kids except Will, because Will needed to know it. And now he is still in that limbo, where he knows it about himself, but is working so hard to keep others from seeing.

What if Lucas is looking closer? What if he has guessed? What if all of them know? What if they’re all disgusted by it and that’s why they’ve gotten too busy to hang around Steve anymore?

He doesn’t know what Lucas sees in his face, but he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up. Yet, he tries to comfort Steve with: “It’s not too bad.”

An involuntary laugh escapes Steve at the placating lie, the disbelief obvious. There is no way it’s not still terrible, but the fact that Lucas is trying to comfort him, eases his nerves a bit.

“Okay, so it is quite bad,” Lucas winces, wringing his hands. “Why didn’t you ever tell us what was happening at school?”

Steve scoffs, can’t help the reaction, and says: “Lucas, I would never drop my shit on a bunch of kids. You all had enough to deal with. I was doing fine anyway. It wasn’t that bad.”

“They’re calling you all sorts of slurs and saying that you’re going to die of AIDS, how is that okay, Steve?” Lucas exclaims, startling Steve with the volume of the outburst.

“Well, it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter,” Steve snaps back.

He doesn’t want to think about how he knows exactly what slurs Lucas is talking about, how they have always clung to him, adding weight to all that drags him down, because he knows they’re true, how he’s been scared shitless of AIDS ever since he last saw his father, even though he has been extra safe when he does fuck, and how those are girls, which make him uncomfortable, a thing he also doesn’t want to think about.

Lucas reels back again by how forcefully Steve says them and Steve internally cringes at how that probably doesn’t help his point, though he keeps a poker face despite it.

He studies Steve for a second and Steve practically holds his breath as he keeps it up, he hopes that Lucas will drop it. He doesn’t, instead, Lucas gets a little quieter. He looks at the ground, then glances back up at Steve and softly says: “But it still hurts, doesn’t it?”

The comment goes deeper than this conversation. It is a cry for recognition. A plea to be heard. To be seen in a pain. A pain that Lucas thinks they might share.

Steve might not be the smartest, but he’s also not an idiot. He knows why Billy went after Lucas but not Dustin for hanging around his sister, knows that fag isn’t the only slur the basketball team throws around, knows that Lucas will hear that too, even if they don’t target him directly and how that can still hurt.

And while he doesn’t want to say anything that might be suspicious, Lucas is one of his kids and he needs to not be alone right now, so he matches Lucas’ quiet tone and admits: “Yeah, it does hurt, a lot. And it fucking sucks.”

Lucas looks relieved by the admission, though an air of sadness still hangs around them. Neither of them can fully know what the other is going through, but for a moment they aren’t alone in their misery and sometimes that can be enough. Lucas huffs out a small laugh and agreed: “It does fucking suck.”

“Don’t tell your mom I used that word,” Steve jokingly threatens. He is glad he was able to help Lucas feel better, but he needs this conversation to be over now. To not have Lucas go poking further than this.

“I won’t,” Lucas laughs. “Besides, she’s heard worse from Dustin.”

“Dustin got some of that from me, I have to be honest there,” Steve comments with a grin, making Lucas laugh more.

Steve wants to move on to other things, however, something is still gnawing on him. He is not there to protect these kids and he cares so much about them, so he needs to be assured that Lucas will be okay on his own in the basketball team. “The others aren’t targeting you, right?”

“No,” Lucas assures him. “Patrick has taken me under his wing a bit, which is nice. He’s also black and good friends with Jason, so they mostly leave us be.” He’s quiet for a second, then adds: “It’s some of the other kids that get targeted. I never really do anything and I feel like I’m the worst because of it.”

“Don’t,” Steve immediately says and Lucas looks surprised, as if he expected Steve to say something different. After all the times Steve threw himself between them and danger that is pretty valid, but that is so much different than this. That isn’t a permanent slight in the eyes of the town, Steve knows how that feels. It is very much not the same.

“Don’t?” Lucas repeats with a confused frown.

“It’s not worth it, trust me,” Steve tells him. “The next time they rag on a poor kid, who also doesn’t deserve it or talk shit about me, you stay quiet, you hear me? You keep your mouth shut. Me and some random kid, aren’t worth being an outcast over. I know it sucks, but it’s how to survive high school. Promise me?”

“Okay, yeah, I promise,” Lucas says, unsettled by the intensity.

Steve isn’t under the illusion that he is the first to say this to Lucas. His parents must be worried sick about him as well, but Lucas might be more willing to listen to Steve than his uncool parents, especially since Steve has a hero status in Lucas’ mind. So, he says it anyway.

“Good, just keep your head down and stick to Patrick,” Steve nods. “Patrick cool?”

“Yeah,” Lucas says with a small smile. “He’s a little withdrawn, but he has this sick fade away long shot that he’s been teaching me.”

“Sounds great. Show me?” Steve asks, getting up and holding the ball out to Lucas. It’s a way to get out of their heads again, away from the heavy conversation, something Steve thinks they both need right now.

Fortunately, Lucas takes the ball with a grin, both of them getting back in position, so that Lucas can show off the shot. It’s a fun way to forget about all the bad and Steve sees himself in Lucas, how he used sports to get out of his head for a bit. That afternoon, he vows to go to all of his games, even if he’s on the bench every time.

Over the following weeks, Steve is there at all Lucas’ games as the team slowly climbs their way up through the championships. Steve has to admit they’re good, they might stand a chance at winning this year.

Meanwhile, life goes on in other places as well, in its own rickety way.

Chrissy cancels more and more, it’s been weeks since they stunted together, even if they finally got their handstand stunt. Steve misses it more than he wants to admits. Misses Chrissy even more, only glimpsing at her during Lucas’ games, her smiles looking fake and her cheer uniform loose.

Steve worries about her, but knows it isn’t his place to talk about her struggles with Robin. So, he just gives Robin a little too many snacks and hopes she knows how to share. However, Chrissy is no longer sitting with Robin during lunch, another worrying development that has other consequences as well.

“She totally knows!” Case in point. Robin is hanging over the counter, looking defeated. She has been the only person not falling apart around Steve and he needs her to be okay. He hates to see her sad like this. Especially when he can’t fix it.

“How would she know?” he counters, knowing it’s not enough, but having to try anyway.

Robin glares at him, before throwing her hands about: “I don’t know, dingus. Maybe I stared at her too long or said something embarrassing and weird, because I keep on humiliating myself around her and she caught on and now she hates me.”

“Chrissy doesn’t hate you,” Steve insists. He is 99% sure of that, despite the lack of contact between them now. There is something else going on with her, he just doesn’t know what and that bothers him to all hell.

“Did she tell you that?” Robin counters.

“You know she didn’t,” Steve glares at her, before taking a deep calming breath. They both have been on edge and the last thing he wants to do, is snap at her and have yet another friendship fall apart.

Robin is observing him and when he looks at her again, normally this time, she says: “Sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”

“It’s okay,” he sighs. “It’s not like you’re in control of her pulling away.”

“And what if I am? What if I’m right and she did notice my crush on her and now she’s disgusted and pulling away? What then?” Robin rambles anxiously.

“Then she’s a dick and we don’t want to be friends with her,” Steve states, because that is obvious in his brain. “But that’s not the reason, she’s too nice for that.”

“You sure?” Robin asks.

“I’m sure,” Steve confirms.

They’re both quiet for a second, then Robin speaks up, her voice an odd mix of disbelief, awe and skepticism, as she asks: “You would really drop her if she wasn’t okay with my crush?”

It’s an echo of when Steve figured her out, when she was unsure if Steve would be okay with it and it still amazes him that she doesn’t know that he would do anything for her. “Yeah, I would. Of course, I would. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Robin shrugs, not meeting his eyes. “You two have been friends longer than we have. I wouldn't hold it against you.”

“Robs, 1) if she is homophobic, I don’t want to be friends with her and 2) you’re my platonic soulmate, I’m always going to put you first,” he says, putting as much intent and genuineness in his voice as he can in the hope she’ll believe him.

“Platonic soulmates, eh?” she grins, not fully acknowledging it, but tentatively daring to believe by not countering it or questioning him.

“With a capital P,” Steve grins back. “You’re stuck with me now, Buckley.”

“I’m holding you to that, Stevie,” she replies, knowing he doesn’t like his last name.

The next day are the championships. Steve is in Family Video alone, waiting until he can go clock out and get the girl he’s bringing for show. He’s a little self aware around the basketball team since his talk with Lucas, so it will be good to be seen with a girl on his arm.

He’s bored out of his mind, so glad when the phone rings. He picks up: “You’ve reached Family Video, this is Steve. How-”

“Yeah, Steve,” Dustin cuts of his standard greeting. “I need you to play DnD with me and the rest of Hellfire tonight.”

“What? Why?” Steve replies, unsure why they would be playing tonight.

“Because it’s the ending of the campaign and we need someone else,” Dustin says. “Eddie is on our ass to find someone, please.”

At the mention of Eddie’s name, a shiver goes through his body. He cannot face Eddie. Not like that. The need to hide away comes over him and he throws out: “No, I can’t, I have a date.”

“Just move your date this one time,” Dustin demands. “Come on.”

Usually Steve is a pushover and would easily bend to that demand, but he can’t. Lucas is playing tonight, it’s the championship. And it’s Eddie. Eddie, who hates him. Eddie, who makes him feel things. And he just can’t.

His brain goes to a patented method and a little meanly he says: “What? To hang out with you and Eddie “The Freak” Munson? Uh, yeah, I’ll pass.”

The moment he says it, he hates himself. He vowed not to do this anymore and now he is. Fuck, why is he like that?

Dustin doesn’t notice, luckily, and just says: “You’re just jealous because I have another older male friend.”

And a part of Steve is jealous. Jealous that Dustin gets to hang out with Eddie without feeling like he wants to explode, either from horniness, fear or embarrassing mushy feelings. Feelings that also make him want to hide away.

He knows he has them, that they won’t go away, but every time he thinks he can accept that, another voice speaks up and crushes it. It’s a constant battle and at this point, he isn’t even sure what team he’s on.

But he doesn’t tell Dustin that, instead he says: “Iew. Ugh. Whatever,” before making up some story about really digging this girl, whose name he has already forgotten, before pretending a customer comes in, so he can hang up on Dustin.

It’s not until, he’s getting ready to go for the game, that he is centered enough to realize that Dustin was looking for a replacement for Lucas. That Eddie isn’t postponing the session so Lucas can be there and make the championship.

If they were still friends, he would’ve said something about it to Eddie. Then he realizes that this might be Eddie outing his anger at Steve and all his jockiness that he showed Eddie when he stomped all over him. And he feels a little sicks with it.

Fuck, hopefully spring break will be what they all need to get off this roller coaster again. A little bit of a break away from it all will be good for them.

A/N:

Robin being surprised that Steve wants to be her friend, that she is also friends with Chrissy, that they want her around, it’s breaking my heart </3

Also Lucas deserves so much more and the Duffers keep doing him dirty, I’m so mad about that actually >:(

(Disclaimer: I am white and probably not the best to write about this, but it wanted to note the fact that Lucas is dealing with other shit too in there as well. Hopefully that came across okay and if I said anything offensive, please let me know)

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