#IF U HAD ANY PART IN THAT HULLO I MISS YOU

[alderaani]

hullo pls could you maybe do from the prompt list 'Staying up half the night to finish a game with them.' with jesse? or echo, i love them both very much so whoever you'd rather write would be just fantastic (: 💕

thanks Emma!!!! anything for u 💕 i’m gonna go with jesse for this one, though i’m desperate to write for my boy echo in the near future. (i am very quickly learning i can’t keep these brief to save my life, oops)

pairing is jesse x reader:

“Heard you landed your ass in here again, idiot.”

It comes out harsher than you mean, but the rush of anger-joy-relief that floods through you when you see Jesse propped up in bed, awake and laughing with one of his brothers, is like a battering ram. You put out one hand to steady yourself against the doorframe and blink, startled by the way your eyes are stinging.

“If only he’d actually landed on his ass,” Hardcase laughs. He’s lounging on the end of the bed in the bottom half of his armour, legs crossed in front of him. “Di’kut went down on his head instead.”

“Thanks, ‘Case,” Jesse sighs, before looking at you sheepishly. “I was goin’ to comm you.”

You sniff in distain and push into the room proper. “What, in three to five business days? I had to find out from one of the mechanics, Jesse.”

Jesse scowls and you feel your eyes sting again at just how small he looks against the sheets. The white bandages on his chest and wrapped around his skull are stark against the rich brown of his skin. You don’t think you have really breathed in the last three days, not since contact with Torrent went down and it suddenly hit you that you might never get to speak to him again.

“How is this my fault? I was karking unconscious and you’re going to hold that against me?”

“Well,” Hardcase says, eyes darting between the pair of you. He shoves himself off the bed, clapping a hand on Jesse’s blanketed leg. “Sounds like my cue to check out. The boys are settin’ up a round of sabacc in the barracks, don’t wanna hold ‘em up.”

You wave absently to him as he leaves, not taking your eyes off of Jesse’s as your chest fills with fire. You open your mouth to snap back, but the pure weariness that flashes across Jesse’s face sinks in like a knife between your ribs and suddenly you’re just tired.

You collapse into the vacant chair beside his bed and put your face in your hands.

“Kriff, Jess, I’m sorry.” You huff out a little laugh. “I came here to cheer you up, believe it or not.”

Looking up, you’re in time to see Jesse’s face soften. He reaches out and knocks his fist gently against your temple.

“Bold strategy you’re usin’.”

You swallow tightly and keep your eyes on the blankets when you make your next admission, choking the words out. “I didn’t mean to get mad. You just really fuckin’ scared me this time.”

Jesse chuckles weakly. “Think I scared myself. I…I really thought that was it, for a moment.”

You breathe out, long and slow, and try to push away the could-have-beens. He’s here, he’s whole, and he’s alive. Each one of those things is its own blessing. Some part of you still feels like it’s stuck in the awful silence of your comm station as you typed in code after code and prayed, unable to reach any of them and only being able to think about Jesse. His laugh, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way it makes your stomach tie itself into knots, and the ache in your gut when you thought you’d lost the chance to tell him any of it.

You’re used to being haunted by thoughts of him, but now all your memories have a slightly bitter edge, soured by the possibility that they’d almost been all you had. It’s harder than you expected to let that go, even if you’ve always known you might have to.

“I’m damn glad it wasn’t,” is what you get out eventually. “This place’d be boring without you.”

Jesse quirks a smile. You just want to hold on to him, kiss that smile straight off his stupid face, and can’t bring yourself to care that you’re staring. “Maker, I know, I’m bored already and I’m only stuck in the medbay. What’ve you got for me?”

You reach into the bag at your feet and pull out a card deck and a bottle of blumfruit juice. “I couldn’t bring the boys, but at least I’ve brought the cards, right?”

The way that Jesse’s whole face lights up makes the knot in your chest loosen. You dig around a bit more and pull out Jesse’s razor kit – there’s a fine layer of visible stubble growing on the unbandaged bits of his head. Aside from his huge Republic cog tattoo and the fact the stubble’s dark, he’s starting to look eerily like Rex.

“I thought you might want these tomorrow, too, I cleared them with Coric so I won’t accidentally land you in trouble.”

Jesse tilts his head a little bit and just watches you. You fight the urge to fidget and place the razor kit on the edge of the blanket; it’s hard not to shrug this off like you have a hundred times before, but you made a promise to yourself when you’d heard he’d come back alive. You won’t hide how you feel any more, and he can do what he likes with it. At least you will have given him the choice.

“You went and got these for me?” he asks eventually, his gaze pointed and calculating. You expected it – there’s a reason he’s on the Captain’s core squad – but it still makes you feel naked.

“You always bitch when your hair starts growing in,” You smile. Jesse’s expression clears, but whatever conclusion he’s come to he keeps to himself. He puts the razor on the side table and grins at you.

“The stubble itches. Now are you gonna deal us in, or what?”

You’re halfway through your first hand before you realise something crucial is missing from the set.

“Kriff, I forgot my betting chips! Sorry Jess, I can run back and get them if you like.”

Jesse picks up the bottle of blumfruit juice and gulps a mouthful, his mouth stained slightly red.

“I think I’ve got a better idea. Much more fun if we bet favours, right?”

His expression is far too innocent. You narrow your eyes at him as you accept the bottle and bring it to your lips. “What kind of favours?”

He shrugs. “Just little things. Ship duties, stuff you’ve always wanted to know…that kind of thing. I know you’ve always wanted to get back at Fives for what happened on Orto Plutonia.”

You lick your lips slowly. It’s a tempting proposition, which is dangerous for someone who is so thoroughly shit at sabacc, and for someone who’s opponent knows it.

“…Alright. But we’ve got to agree on the favour before it enters the pool.”

Jesse’s grin is sharklike. “Deal.”

Over the course of the next three hours you lose your mess hall slot, have to tell Jesse the story of how you ended up locked in the communal showers for three hours, and owe him two whole bottles of his favourite Alderaanian spirit.

In return, all you have managed to swindle is that payback on Fives, so when Jesse suggests one more round at 0300, you’re hesitant. You’re pretty sure you’re in love with him, but you still have a little dignity.

“Aw, come on. Where’s the honour in givin’ in?” Jesse grins.

“There’s no honour in marching blindly to defeat, either,” you counter, gathering up the sabacc cards to shuffle anyway. Besides, if you yawn any more you think your soul might escape your body.

“Maybe not, but I think you’ll like what I’ve got in mind.”

His face is oddly serious, and it piques your interest. Before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding and dealing out the cards again, fighting for composure when you lift yours and see the brilliant pair you’ve picked up.

“Fine, one more round. If I win you have to cover my next shift stocking ordnance,” you say quickly.

Jesse swallows, his honey brown eyes boring into you. “Sure. But if I win, I get a kiss.”

Faintly, you think someone must have opened an airlock somewhere, because you can’t breathe. You hear your lungs suck in, see the way Jesse leans a little towards you, the expression on his face almost hungry. There’s a faint ringing in your ears as you nod eagerly, your palms sweating.

What follows is possibly the longest 30 minutes of your life. It figures, really, that the one game of sabacc you desperately want to lose is the one you can’t seem to not win. When the match is up you scowl at the perfect score of 23 in your hand and toss it down onto the bed covers.

“Sorry Jesse, read ‘em and weep. I’ve got pure sabacc.”

Jesse leans over to read, but instead of looking as annoyed as you feel, he just smirks.

“Now now, cyar’ika, don’t be hasty. Let me present to you: the Idiot’s Array.”

You lean forward before you can stop yourself. “No fucking way.”

The rarest hand in the game? You’ve gotta see that.

Jesse smugly spreads out his cards. You smack him. “That’s not the Idiot’s Array!”

“It is too.”

“Then where’s the Idiot Card, genius?”

Without pausing, Jesse lifts his hands and points two thumbs at himself, grinning at you. “Right here, darlin’.”

You laugh, heat creeping up through your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You slide onto the bed and place your palms either side of Jesse’s legs, your pulse thundering under the heat of his eyes.

“Guess I owe you a kiss, then.”

Jesse’s hand sneaks up to cup the back of your neck. “Yeah. Guess you do.”

[roseonhissleeve]

Bloom — Part III — Winter

REQUEST: Can u write a fan fic about the girl owning a flower shop and Harry coming in to get flowers for someone else but then they fall in love because love is beautiful like a flower

It’d been about a week since Harry had come around to the shop, and she was starting to miss him. She knew that he was spending a lot of time with his family, with it being Christmas and what-not, but she was about to close up the shop for three days to go visit her family and she was hoping to see him before the holidays.

The day before she left, her wish was granted.

“Honey, I’m home!” Harry called out into the store as he swung the door open, his voice booming in the air and announcing his presence. It took everything inside of her not to collapse into a fit of giggles, but she was busy doing a final inventory check before leaving. She had a pen tucked behind her ear and one tucked into her locks of hair that had been collected in a messy bun, not to mention the pen in her hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you don’t have any honeys here,” she teased, looking up from the checklist she had been scanning over to flash him a smile before looking back down at the sheet of paper on the counter.

“Only my main honey,” he flashed her a  grin as he walked around to the side of the counter she was on and glanced at the sheet of paper she was looking at before hopping up atop of the counter next to her. “Getting ready to go home?”

“Yep. I’m having brunch with my mum tomorrow, and then dinner tomorrow night with my dad and his new girlfriend,” she groaned, jabbing her pen into the paper particularly not-so-gently as she scribbled a check inside one of the boxes. He suddenly reached over and grabbed the pen that was behind her ear and hidden in her hair, stealing the one from her hands to top it off.

“H, what are you doing, I don’t have time for this,” she began to complain, but he had already hopped off of the counter and shoved the pens in his pockets.

“Yeh’re overthinking everything and stressing yourself out more than yeh need to, like usual.”

“Am not,” she growled, scanning over the information on the page stubbornly.

“Yeh are,” he rebutted, walking over to where she kept her stereo filled with the old CDs that she’d brought from home. One in particular called out to him, and he grabbed onto it and inserted it into the device. “An’ we’re gonna fix it.”

“Harry what’re you—” she was interrupted by the sounds of familiar music filling the air; Elton John and Kiki Dee’s Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart started filling the air. It was one of her favorite songs and he knew it—she was still holding back a smile, but then Harry decided to take it to a completely different level.

Don’t go breaking my heart, I couldn’t if I tried!

He began to dance towards her and wiggle his hips while shimmying his shoulders, definitely not in the most attractive way, but it made her giggle.

“C’mon, honey, can’t do this song without yeh,” he grinned, and when she sighed and walked out from behind the counter he knew that he had her.

Ooh-oooh, nobody knows it!

She joined in the singing, her nose scrunching up before she exhaled a belly laugh. He grabbed ahold of her hands and spun her around slowly before swaying her side to side, one of his hands relocating to rest on her hip. The store was filled with both their voices and their occasional laughter as they swayed, bopped and bounced around to the upbeat tune. Eventually the song ended, but before she had the chance to say anything he pulled something out of his back pocket and set it in her hand.

“Merry Christmas,” he announced, shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath from the performance they’d just given. Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word filled the air as her features softened with surprise at his gesture, lips curling up to reveal a smile that easily took his breath away, not for the first time.

“Harry…you didn’t have to,” she murmured, lowering her gaze to the black, velvet box that had been set in her hand.

“I know, I wanted to,” he explained, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Open it up.”

She followed his instructions and pinched the top of the box so that she could lift the lid, and when she saw what was inside it took everything inside of her to hold back the tears that were threatening to spring in her eyes.

Inside the box was a gold necklace—the pendant was a small, golden daisy.

“S’like the flowers I bought from yeh the first time I came in here. Remember?” he said, rocking back and forth on his feet nervously.

“I remember,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She continued to stare at the gift that he’d gotten for him, absolutely speechless.

“Do yeh like it?” he asked, his nerves building up at her lack of a response.

She gripped onto the box in one hand and took a step towards Harry, taking a breath before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. Her chin rested on his shoulder gently as she closed her eyes. He reciprocated the embrace, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her snug against his chest, tenderly resting his head against hers as he traced circles against the small of her back with the pads of his thumbs.

“I love it,” she exhaled.

They were both thinking one thing in that moment.

But neither of them said a word.

*

It was three days into the new year when Harry came back to see her.

He walked into the store without saying anything, but she saw him as soon as he did. She immediately grinned and walked over to him from where she stood behind the counter, and threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Hi, you.”

“Hullo. Need to buy some flowers,” he murmured, his grasp on her just a little bit tighter than usual.

“Oh, going on a date so soon into the year?” She teased, pressing a quick peck to his cheek before pulling away from their hug. He didn’t let go, however—he just kept holding onto her as if his life depended on it, and if anything his embrace tightened around her. She wasn’t complaining, but something was off.

“H…what’s wrong?” She asked hesitantly, giving him a gentle squeeze just because he seemed like he needed it.

“One o’ my mum’s friends passed last night,” he croaked out softly, burrowing his face into her shoulder as he exhaled shakily. “Need the bouquet to bring to the funeral tomorrow. I told mum I’d take care of it.”

Her heart dropped.

She didn’t know what to say.  She hugged him tighter to her as she raked her fingers through his hair softly, thumbs playing with the soft curls at the back of his neck. He shivered slightly in her embrace and she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek in response, closing her eyes as she stood there with him in her arms.

She would have given anything in that moment to ease the pain that he was feeling. She could see it on his shoulders—he was holding everything together for his mother, she knew that. He loved her dearly and he would try to be her rock during this time…but he wasn’t taking lightly to it by any means. She wanted to take all of the pain that he had to carry and bear it on her own shoulders so he would have none.

That was the moment she realized that she was in love with him.

They stood there for a long time. He held to her and she let him, thankful that there wasn’t anybody in the store and that no one seemed to have plans to interrupt. Eventually he released her, and she took his hand and walked him over behind the counter and sat him down in her chair. He sat still and didn’t say much. She pulled out a blanket from one of the closets in the back room—she kept it there for chilly winter nights when she was staying late. She wrapped the fuzzy blue blanket around him and he murmured a soft “thank you.”

She walked around to stand in front of him and cupped his face in her small palms, bringing his gaze up to hers. She read his features—his tired eyes, the tension around his lips and nose, the way that he seemed to clench his jaw—he looked exhausted.

He looked at her, and she knew that he needed to just sit and stay there for a little while.

It was the only place he felt safe at that moment.

Throughout the rest of the day a couple of customers came in and out, and were mostly undisturbed by Harry’s unpredicted presence. A couple of them said hello to him, and one of them even offered his condolences—Harry replied to each one with patience and grace, and she gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder every time.

“Wha’s this?” He asked her later that afternoon. She looked over and saw him holding a guitar, one that she’d had tucked away in the back room where she’d stored the blanket.

“I’ve been trying to learn,” she explained, walking over to lean against the counter with a little smile. “You can play it if you want.”

He said nothing, but when he sat back down he put the strap over his shoulder and settled the light brown guitar in his lap. Within minutes he was strumming and plucking soft chords in the background as she went about doing her work, and that’s how they spent the rest of the afternoon—Harry played music while she got her work done, and when she finally finished everything she had to do, he taught her a bit of guitar.

“You got the strum pattern, s’only the chords that are givin’ yeh trouble,” he explained, reaching to take her hand and guide it towards the base of the guitar where she was to strum the chords. “Okay, I’ll do the chords and you play the strums, yeah? Whenever yeh’re ready.”

She bit her lower lip in concentration as she looked down at the guitar, brows furrowed. She began to strum the strings, and without the added work of the chords she had to admit that it was a lot easier to do. Harry filled in the rest, his fingers playing the actual notes at the other end of the guitar.

“We’re doing it!” She announced, grinning as she bounced on her heels.

He smiled for the first time that entire day when he saw her face light up as they played the song together.

Wise men say, only fools rush in…but I can’t help falling in love with you.

“Beautiful,” he announced once they’d finished that first chorus, glancing up at her with a smile on his face. She grinned, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head and murmuring a quiet thank you.

Harry sighed quietly as he glanced over at the clock that was on the far wall. She took a step back while he set down the guitar and propped it against the counter, hopping off of the stool.

“S’about time I get back home,” he said reluctantly. He wanted to support Anne and the rest of the family, but it was also hard to walk away from someone that made him feel so safe at a time where he really needed it.

“Wait, you need your flowers,” she remembered before walking over to a particular shelf and grabbing a bundle. She walked back and handed them to him, offering him a small smile. “Hydrangeas. On the house.”

“Thanks,” he smiled weakly, grabbing the pot of flowers and lifting them to his nose. “Why Hydrangeas?”

“Because no matter how cold the Winter gets,” she replied, “they always bloom in the Spring.”

Part Four: Spring  

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[roseonhissleeve]

Bloom — Part I — Summer

REQUEST: Can u write a fan fic about the girl owning a flower shop and Harry coming in to get flowers for someone else but then they fall in love because love is beautiful like a flower

Started writing this oneshot and it turned into four oneshots. I changed it up a bit, but I hope you enjoy. x

The first time that Harry came to her shop, she barely said a word to him.

She knew when she opened her flower shop that Harry Styles lived nearby. It’s basically all that her friends back home could talk about when she announced where she was moving—they were diehard fans, and a few of them even begged her to take them with her so that they could meet the infamous Harry Styles.

She wasn’t shy, and she wasn’t one to get starstruck when face to face with a celebrity (not that she’d ever really met one). But the first time of many that Harry Styles walked into her flower shop, he was on a date.

His date wasn’t a big name or anything, and didn’t look familiar at all. But he was very much enthralled with her—he seemed like the kind of man to give you all his attention when he’s set aside time for you, and that was something she rarely ever really saw. She busied herself behind the counter of the shop, counting receipts and moving some stuff around so that she didn’t look like she was eavesdropping, which she wasn’t.

The shop that she owned wasn’t very big at all—it was just big enough to hold a small greenhouse garden in the back that she used to grow her flowers, as well as the storefront where she sold them (among the shipments she received from other greenhouses that were much larger than her own). It wasn’t exactly LARGE by any standards but she enjoyed it that way. Except it meant that there really wasn’t anywhere to hide, so when Harry Styles and his date decided to walk around and look at her bouquets, she couldn’t help but overhear.

“Did I tell yeh that yeh look beautiful tonight,” he said with a grin, his hand resting on his date’s face as he gazed at her features.

Don’t eavesdrop, she thought to herself, fidgeting with the pastel purple shirt that she had on.

She counted out the change that she had in her register, not processing the giggles and voices that she heard on the other side of the room. About five minutes afterwards she was interrupted by Harry’s voice, this time talking to her.

“S’cuse me,” he said, causing her to look up from her register.

The first thing she noticed were exactly how green his eyes were. Sure, she knew that they were green—her friend had a life-sized poster of him to prove it—but seeing them in person was…different. It was as if “green” alone wasn’t enough to describe them, not enough to do them justice. His eyes were the color of the first warm day after a long, cold winter. The kind where you step out into the fresh air and breathe, and you didn’t even realize how much you missed the sun until it reflected on your skin.

“How can I help you?” She asked kindly, flashing a warm smile in his direction. He was cupping a small flower pot in his large palms, one that held a trio of daisies in it.

“How much is it for these flowers?” He asked, setting it atop of the counter in front of her.

“Six pounds,” she replied, and he flashed her a smile and nodded his head a couple of times while he reached back into the pocket of his pants, searching for his wallet. While he did so she rung in the flowers in the register, the sound of the pressing buttons filling the air as she glanced over at his date who was peering out the window by the door.

“S’a nice store you have,” he commented as he held out the money to her in exact change, causing her to turn her attention away from the woman and back to his face. It took her a second to realize that he’d complimented her. “I haven’t seen it before—have yeh been here long?”

“Two weeks tomorrow,” she replied with a smile, taking his money from his grasp and ringing it into the register. Once she’d finished that she reached underneath the counter to pull out a small notepad. “Still waiting for business to pick up, but it’s been lovely so far. Definitely a nice change of scenery from my last job.”

“I’ll be sure to recommend yeh,” he assured her.

“Thank you,” she smiled, handing him his receipt and the note that she had written. “I wrote down some instructions. Two tablespoons of water every other day, don’t overwater. And make sure they get plenty of sun, but keep them room temperature or they’ll dry up.”

“Cheers,” he grinned, giving her a final nod before turning around to return to his date. He held the flowers out to her and she gave him a kiss on the cheek, both of them walking out of her store, only leaving behind the ringing of the bell that danced above the front door even time it opened.

That was the last time she thought she’d ever see Harry Styles.

*

The next time she saw Harry was three weeks later.

She was watering her flowers when he walked into the store. She was too focused on the song that she was humming quietly to hear the bells jingling upon the door opening, mentally jamming out to Ed Sheeran as she eyeballed how much water she was dripping into each little flower pot.

“Hullo,” he said cheerily (and quite suddenly), causing her to shriek a little jump up from her crouching position on the floor. He flashed her a dimpled grin and chuckled briefly. “M’sorry, didn’t mean to give yeh a scare.”

“It’s alright,” she said with a slight laugh. She had to admit, a small part of her was overjoyed that she was seeing him again. But it was a small part that she very much decided to ignore for the time being. “How are the flowers doing?”

“Two tablespoons every other day, it’s doing the trick,” he said, folding his arms over his chest with a grin. “I’m actually here to purchase some more, but I’m not sure which ones to go with.”

“For yourself?” She asked, mostly out of habit. She made small talk with all of her customers, and she immediately began scanning the store for flowers that she thought would suit him.

“For a date,” he clarified, causing her to stop her mental search and look at his features again. “A first date, actually. I was going to buy a bouquet at the grocery store originally, but then I thought, they’re gonna die in a week anyways. Might as well buy somethin’ tha’s gonna last, and I thought of you.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” she replied, returning to her task as she glanced around the store for something she hoped he’d like. She saw something out of the corner of her eye and turned around to walk towards it, Harry following close behind. “So the last date didn’t work out?”

“Not exactly,” he admitted, tucking his hands in his pockets as he watched her scan the row of flowers in front of them.

“Mind if I ask why?” She questioned, tongue sticking out of the corner of her lip slightly as she searched for a particular flower that she had in mind. He remained silent for a moment, and she was starting to think that she’d gone to far when he finally spoke.

“She didn’t laugh at my jokes,” he replied, and she paused her search to look over at his features. As soon as she did she read the hints of mischief on his face, giving away that he was clearly joking around. She smiled and couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, shaking her head as she spun around on her heels.

“Aha!” She exclaimed, walking across the room as soon as she located the specific type of flower that she’d been looking for. Harry followed quickly, excited about the grand reveal of what she’d been searching for so adamantly.

“Lilies,” she announced, grabbing the vase that held the handful of flowers together and turning around to set them in his hands. “Their natural lifespan is one to two weeks, so it is a very low commitment flower. Low risk, perfect for a first.”

“Perfect,” he grinned, and she led him over to the cash register to ring him up.

“I’ve been getting a lot more customers the past couple of weeks, you know,” she said as she walked around to the opposite side of the counter. It was true—in the past little while the amount of people that walked into her little shop had definitely increased, not-so-coincidentally after Harry dropped in that one fateful night. “I’ve been informed by many that you’re the one I have to thank for it.”

“Oh?” He mused, watching her as she scribbled a few words on a small notepad similar to the one that she’d given him the last time he’d seen her.

“Thank you,” she said softly, looking up at him and flashing a kind smile. He couldn’t help but smile back—and there was a part of him that made him want to do anything and everything to make that smile appear every second of every day.

“One pot of lilies, on the house,” she announced as she slid the flower pot towards him over the counter, handing him the note that she’d written with instructions similar to the last. He flashed her a grin as he took ahold of the items, tucking the note carefully into his back pocket.

“Thank you,” he said before turning around and heading for the door. “Wish me luck!”

That was the last thing he said before he headed out the front door, and the room immediately shifted and felt like it had lost a little bit of its radiance.

She could definitely get used to him being around more often.

Bloom: Part II

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