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minaturefics · 1 year

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Alive & Alight

Request/prompt from @tolkien-fantasy: Aragorn or Eomer x Reader but the reader is a disabled girl who can't ride horses because of her illnesses, so she becomes a leatherworker who makes saddles instead because that's the closest she can get to working with horses. She gets commissioned by Elrond/Theoden to make Brego or Hasufel a saddle and they fall head over heels for her.

A/N: It's... finally here... idk why I even try to limit myself to <3k words when things just always overflow. I tried to keep the disability vague, and based it on my understanding from a relation of mine. If anything comes off as problematic, please lmk. Hope you all enjoy it!

Eomer x disabled!Reader

Fem reader

Content warnings: Non-graphic/detailed mentions of chronic pain

5.5k words

---

The evening sun streamed through the windows into the workshop, casting long rectangles of orange across the workbenches. The sweet, earthy scent of leather lingered in the air above the sharp tang of metal. You rocked the head knife, slicing through the buttery leather. Pain shot through your body and the blade clattered to the table.

Across the room, Deormund looked up from his work, a frown on his face. His dark blonde hair was pulled up in a haphazard bun and stray strands brushed the top of his shoulders. He was burly and stout, but his brown eyes were gentle. “Girl, are you hurting again?”

“I’m alright, sir.” You stretched and shifted in your seat. “I just want to get started on this saddle before we finish for today.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and shook his head. “You’ve had enough.”

“But—”

“There is no nobility in unnecessary suffering, girl.” He laid his awl down and crossed the room. “Come, you should rest.” He ushered you over to a small table in the corner and lifted the cloth covering a basket of bread. “I’ll finish up the cutting.”

You tore off a piece of bread and stared out the window. Horses trotted by, their heads bobbing and their tails flicking. How beautiful they were, with their braided manes and glossy coats. You eyed the riders, just some simple merchants riding back to their villages, and your chest tightened. If only you were able to ride, if only your body did not ache so.

Your eyes wandered to the plains just visible through the thatched roofs. Oh, to ride unhindered through the grass, to feel the sting of the wind, to go wherever your heart desired. You sighed and comforted yourself with the knowledge that you still had the pleasure of working with horses in your craft. You could make them beautiful saddles, comfortable for both animal and rider, could see your work on the backs of the most noble horses.

Voices approached the workshop and your eyes drifted to the entrance.

“Uncle, this is unnecessary.”

“Eomer, it is time for a new saddle.”

“I do not see what is wrong with my own.”

“It is… plain. Future kings do not ride on unadorned saddles.”

Your eyes met your mentor’s and your heart sped up. The prince and the king? You tossed the half eaten bread back in the basket and replaced the cloth just as they entered the workshop. They were dressed in their formal tunics, the gold embellishments glinting against the rich green velvet. Theoden was grinning, but Eomer’s lips were pressed in a hard line.

“Your highness,” Deormund tugged his dirty apron off and bowed deeply.

You forced yourself to stand, wincing as you did so. You managed a short curtsey before the dull throb of pain began to grow.

Theoden gestured at the rickety chair. “Please, sit. I understand that you suffer from an illness.”

Eomer’s eyes drifted over to you and your breath hitched in your throat. He seemed to fill the room in a way that was not evident when you saw him from afar. He was tall, taller than his uncle, and his broad frame seemed to make the room smaller. His gaze fixed you where you stood and for a moment all you could do was stare back into his hazel eyes.

You glanced away, willing your heart to slow, as you lowered yourself back down.

What were they doing at the workshop? It was rare of the king and his family to personally visit merchants and craftsmen. Was it the saddle you had made for one of the Marshals of the Riddermark? Were they dissatisfied? Your fingers twitched on your lap, wishing you had one of your tools to fiddle with.

“I’ve come to convince my nephew to have a new saddle made.” Theoden shot a look at Eomer. “I thought perhaps if he saw the level of craftsmanship that went into the saddles you make he would be won over.”

Deormund nodded and walked over to the bench where the half-finished saddles sat. “These are all hand-carved by our young lady over there.”

Eomer’s eyes met yours again, intense but with a spark of curiosity in them. He joined Deormund by the bench and cast his eyes over the saddles. You fidgeted with your thin apron. Would they be to his liking? To have one of your saddles on the horse of the prince, the future king of Rohan… It would be an honour of the highest regard, one of the greatest compliments to your work and skill. You swallowed as you watched his face.

His brows slowly relaxed and his jaw loosened. He reached a hand out and traced the ridges and grooves of the pattern. “These tell a story,” he muttered, voice full of wonder. “A woman’s journey across the plains, an encounter with another, injured. Caring, healing, building a home together.” He looked at the next one. “And this, of a young boy and his father, from travelling merchants to wealthy shop owners.”

His eyes cut to yours and you nodded. “Horses are the centre of our people. I wanted to pay homage to the way they serve us, the way we work with them. They carry more than just our bodies on their backs, they carry our lives, our stories.”

He held your gaze, his hazel eyes alight with something you could not name.

“Alright,” he said, eyes never wavering from you. “A new saddle, I’ll agree to it. But only if it’s you.”

Eomer paced his rooms, a frown on his face and his hands behind his back. Candles burned around the space, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The air was filled with Eowyn’s perfume, lavender and some Gondorian flower he could not place, and under that, something familiar and comforting that reminded him of their parents.

The last few days had brought back memories he did not know he had.

He had spoken to you about his life as part of your work for the saddle. The memories and stories had come slow and stilted at first, but encouraged by your soft eyes and smiles, they began to unspool and unfurl. His mother’s hands covering his as they stroked the horse, his father’s booming voice as he acted bedtime stories out, racing Eowyn on ponies across the fields.

You had sat there, hands folded on your lap, still and attentive, listening. Once again, he had been struck by how beautiful you were. When he had walked into the workshop and set eyes on you, his stomach had fluttered and flipped. Framed by the window, illuminated by the evening sun, you looked glorious, at home among the leather and tools.

“Daydreaming again, brother?” Eowyn said as she walked into the room and settled on the cushioned bench.

He clicked his tongue at her. “Do not tease me so. I was not daydreaming, I was… thinking.”

Eowyn snickered. “About the young lady who makes the saddles?”

His cheeks burned and he turned away from his sister. “She is… intriguing.”

“How so?”

“Have you seen her work? It is a marvel how she manages to bring stories to life on the leather. Her carving is so intricate, it is nearly unbelievable.” He spun to face her. “And when she speaks of her work, she comes alive, shines almost, like the Entwash on a summer’s day. And when she smiles, I —”

His sister laughed. “Brother, I dare say you are smitten.”

He grumbled and looked out of the window. Could anyone fault him, truly? He was surprised there was not a line of suitors lingering outside the workshop or your home.

Homes and shops dotted the hill of Edoras, flowing down from Meduseld. Little squares of light vanished into the distance and darkness and he gazed out wondering which one of those squares might have been yours. Were you whiling your evening away on your own, or was there another beside you, holding your hand, enjoying your smiles?

His stomach clenched strangely at that thought and he whirled around to face Eowyn. “How goes your project with the healing houses?”

“Well enough. The building you have allotted us is more than sufficient. Our apothecaries are not as well stocked, but the women are well trained.” Her eyes softened with understanding. “Uncle has told me she suffers from a chronic hurt. There is not much we can do, but I will be able to brew a tonic to ease the pain a little.”

“I would be most grateful,” he muttered. He sighed and joined his sister on the bench. “I am seeing her again in a few days. She has sketched out a design, I think. She wishes for me to look over it.”

“Are you nervous to see her?”

He scowled at her. “I am not nervous. I am simply… eager to see what she has come up with.”

“And I suppose your now regularly washed and oiled hair has no relation to your meetings with her?” Eowyn bit back a smile.

Eomer’s eyes darted back to the window. “Nothing at all.”

The late afternoon sun poured over Edoras and the thatched roofs below you gleamed gold. A cool wind swept through the small garden, tossing your hair and tickling the back of your neck. You leaned back against the cushions spread on the stone bench, idly playing with the glass vial he had given you, while he looked over your sketch.

“I feel as though something is missing,” he muttered. “Here, in the later sections.”

You leaned over and peered at the sheets of paper. It depicted the victory at the Black Gate, his reunion with a healed Eowyn, his return back to Edoras. The last panel showed him with his uncle and sister, standing in front of The Golden Hall.“I have never been to Gondor or seen Minas Tirith. Is there something wrong with the way I’ve drawn them?”

“I am not sure. Perhaps there is some part else that also needs to be included.” He handed the parchment back to you. “But the earlier panels are perfect. My parents, my family… you have brought their memory alive.”

You gave him a smile as your fingers tightened around the paper. You looked at the figurines, at the vistas and buildings you had drawn. “I can start on the first few sections. Then perhaps in time what is missing will come to you.”

“May I keep them? Reviewing them might help, I think. And I can show Eowyn as well.” You nodded and he rolled the papers up.

He hummed and looked out at the fields. You followed his gaze and tried not to focus on how his knee was pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth coming off him, could smell his scent of leather and sandalwood.

You thought back to the last couple of weeks, to the hours spent talking to him. There was a fire to Eomer, a passion that seemed to overflow from him, and when he told his stories, he told them with a fervour that roused your spirit. It was no wonder then, that he was one of the Marshals of the Riddermark, no wonder how so many were willing to leave with him when he was exiled.

But there was also a softness to him, a tenderness underneath it all. In the quiet of the evening, by the light of the fire, he had told you stories of his parents and his sister. How they used to terrorise the servants in the house, how they would spend time braiding each other’s hair, how their parents would take them around the villages and towns, acquainting them with their people.

It seemed that he drifted closer to you with each visit. The first time he had sat opposite you, his heavy desk like a wall between the both of you. But soon he sat in the next armchair over, and then some visits later he chose to share the cushioned bench by the window with you. The front of his knees would graze yours, or his hand would rest just a reach away.

You had heard from the gossiping maids at Meduseld that he was yet to find a partner. How was it possible that a man like him did not have countless betrothal offers and arrangements? For a time it seemed as though there were always princesses or noble ladies coming to visit Edoras, especially after Eowyn’s marriage to Faramir.

They were all regal and graceful and soft.

Eomer cleared his throat and turned back to you. “My lady, I was wondering if you had some time to spare after this.”

“I do. Would you like to discuss the design more? Or maybe look over the different leathers that we have?”

“No, ah, I was hoping you’d like to join me for dinner.” His cheeks tinged pink.

“Dinner?” Your finger tightened around the vial. What a strange thing to ask of you. It was not very common for the royal family to invite mere craftsmen and merchants for dinner. Perhaps he was just being polite since the evening was drawing near and he had taken up any time you would have had to prepare a meal.

It had been a long day; carving in the morning and sketching in the afternoon. Your body ached, and you longed for some rest. But Eomer’s eyes were so wide and hopeful, his slight smile so shy and boyish. “I… Um…”

“I understand if perhaps, I am aware you have been quite busy today, if another evening, or morning, would suit you better…”

You smiled at him. “Perhaps in a day or two? I am quite weary today.”

“Of course, of course.” He nodded, a smile growing on his face. “Simply let me know and I shall clear my schedule.”

Eomer fiddled with the reins in his hand as the carriage moved towards the small grove by the Snowbourn. There was still an hour or two before sunset and the river glittered in the strong sun. The air was cool and carried the fresh scent of dirt and grass, and subtly, from you just beside him, a smell of cloves from the balm you used on your muscles and joints.

It had been over a week since he last saw you. Your message had come the day after he saw you, deferring the dinner invitation, citing some urgent work that had come up, and he had been left anxious that you had changed your mind. He nearly drove Eowyn mad with his questions and doubts, and more than once she had chased him out of Edoras, telling him to go for a long ride.

But then your message had come a few mornings later, and he was left scrambling to prepare what he had envisioned in his mind. You had mentioned before how much you adored horses and how much you wished you could ride. It had been some months since you were last out of the city, when you and Deormund went to source some leather from the neighbouring town.

He had made certain to load the carriage seat with cushions, to bring a basket of fresh berries and cheese, to plan a path near enough to the city should you wish to return, but far enough that his horse could run unhindered. Everything to make you comfortable, everything just so he could spend some time with you away from the chatter and noise of Edoras.

Just you and him, alone.

He froze in his seat. Was it not proper to do such a thing? Was there some parent he needed to ask permission from? Or even then, were you willing to be alone with him in such a setting? Bema, he should have thought about it more, but from the moment you had accepted his invitation that afternoon his mind had run away with plans and ideas.

He fought the urge to glance at you beside him. Did you simply accept his plan because he was a prince? Perhaps you did not actually wish to come out with him, perhaps you simply felt obliged. Eowyn has berated him more than once about his forwardness and rashness. Perhaps he had overstepped without even realising.

“My lord?” you asked, and he allowed his eyes to dart to you. “Is anything the matter? You have gone stiff and quiet.”

“I was simply thinking.”

“What troubles you?”

He tugged on the reins and slowed the carriage to a halt. He turned in the narrow seat to face you. “My lady, do you truly wish to be here?” You frowned but he continued. “I do not wish for you to feel obligated to… to… accept my invitations simply because I am a prince. I would not wish to —”

You reached for his hand but your fingers curled away. You shook your head. “I feel no such thing. I assure you, I… I do wish to be here.”

His heart sped up. “Well, I am… yes, I… I am glad to hear it.”

“Now, let us go. I wish to stop by the river.” You grinned at him and his chest loosened. “But perhaps… we could go faster?” Your smile turned shy and you glanced away. “I relish the rush of wind in my face, the sight of the land hurtling by.”

“Then perhaps you should take the reins.” The worn leather sat in his open palm.

You reached out, your fingertips grazing his skin, delicate and feather-light. Your hand curled around the reigns and your smile turned sly. “Are you certain? Deormund never lets me with the reins for fear of his life.”

He laughed. “My lady, I have much experience with Eowyn’s wild steering. I beg you, do not hold back. Go as fast as you please.”

You tugged on the reins and clicked your tongue, and before he knew it, he was thrown back in his seat as you laughed above the roaring wind.

You knocked the mallet against the decorative stamp, shifting ever so slightly across the smooth leather. Mountains materialised over the plains, rising above the ocean of grass. You sighed, thinking about the evening out with Eomer racing wild across the fields. It had been exhilarating, the trundle of the carriage, nearly flying with the speed of Firefoot. And afterwards, windswept and giddy, he had taken you home.

You thought of how he lingered in the low light of the lantern hanging by your front door, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed. How he wished you goodnight, his voice low and his gaze alight with something you had not seen in his eyes before.

“Girl,” Deormund said, and you looked up. He glanced away and down at the piece of leather he was working on and fiddled with his knife. “It might not be my place to ask, but that boy…”

“You mean… the prince?”

“Yes. That boy.” He grumbled something under his breath. “Listen child, I am not one for gossip and rumours but even I cannot escape the words flying around Edoras at the moment.”

You flushed a little and glanced away. Deormund was the closest thing you had to a parent, and the weight of his words caused your stomach to turn. Did he disapprove in some way? Was it perhaps affecting the business? “Is something the matter?”

He cleared his throat and you hazarded a glance at him. His face was impassive but his eyes were concerned. “Do you truly care for him?”

Your fingers traced the outlines on the leather idly. “Yes. He is a good friend to me.”

“A friend…?”

You sighed and threw your hands up. “Yes, a friend. I do not know why you prod and poke me so. You are a practical man, sir. Of all people I’m certain that you understand that he and I will be nothing more than friends.”

Your chest tightened as the words left your mouth, the reality of it suddenly tangible in the air. You deflated in your chair, body protesting at the sudden movement from before.

“Girl —”

You shook your head. “There is no use in it. I know the work we do is important, held in high esteem even, but we are still craftsmen. And craftsmen are not equal to princes. Eomer will find another, and she will make a fine queen for him one day.”

You looked at the panel you were working on. It was one of the last ones, and after the saddle was finished, there was no reason for you and him to keep meeting. Yes, Eomer will find someone else, and all that will be left for you will be the ghost of the memories. Would he bring her into the workshop and commission a saddle for her? Will you have to watch as he gazed upon her with love in his eyes?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to push you. It is just… You have seen happier these past few weeks. I thought perhaps I would have to find a new apprentice.”

A new apprentice, of course. Even if Eomer did return your feelings, what of your work? Leather carving was not the work of a queen; there would be no doubt that you would have to give it up. But to sit in hallowed rooms, silent and still, forever staring out at the plains, what sort of life would that be?

You looked around the workshop. It was home, was it not? The worn wooden work tables, the comforting scent of leather, the tools that fit so perfectly in the palm of your hand.

Tears stung at your eyes and you blinked them away. “Do not worry, sir. There will be no need for that.”

Firefoot galloped at full speed. The grass underneath Eomer was nothing but a blur of green. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck and dampened the collar of his tunic. His heart pounded in time with his ragged breaths and he tensed his thighs, urging Firefoot to go faster.

“Enough!” Eowyn shouted as she caught up to him. “Brother, enough!”

He glanced at her. Her hair was wild, streaming with the wind, and her eyes were cold and angry. She was braced on her saddle and he knew she was ready to speed ahead and round her horse to cut him off if he did not heed her words.

He tugged on the reins and Firefoot began to slow.

“You’re going to run the horses ragged.” She huffed and shook her head. “What is the matter with you?” The horses slowed to a comfortable trot and she drew close to him. “You have been ill-tempered this whole week. Even uncle does not dare to be near you.”

“It is nothing.” He let out a sharp exhale.

“It is that carver, is it not?”

Eomer glanced at his sister. Her gaze had warmed into something soft and sympathetic. He sagged in his saddle and sighed. “Yes. I had thought perhaps… She seemed to like my company, even said so herself. And yet this whole week all of my invitations have been declined.

“She is well within her rights to do so. I am aware she does not owe me anything, but it does… sting somewhat. I do not know if I did anything wrong, if at all. I know there has been gossip circulating. Perhaps she became aware of my feelings and was frightened away? I do not know, and it drives me to madness.”

“Maybe her pain has worsened this week. She simply may not have the capacity to see you.”

“I know,” he groaned. “But in the past she has told me if that is the case. More than once she had rescheduled our earlier meetings. It is unlike her to be so reticent. Maybe I have just been mistaken about her feelings towards me.”

He stared at the horizon wishing he could just ride and ride and ride.

He had never been in love before, not properly at least. There had been little infatuations, charming women who turned his head, but nothing like the feeling that had now rooted itself inside his heart. How was he to love another when you existed in the world?

Despite himself, he had wandered down to the workshop the day before, just to catch a glimpse of you. He saw you through the window, hunched over the table, working on the saddle. How beautiful you were, your brows creased in concentration, your hands steady and skilled. And when you had laughed at something Deormund said, it took all his willpower not to sweep into the workshop and pull you into his arms.

He sighed and tipped his head back to catch the cool wind. “The saddle will be finished soon. I will not have any excuses to see her anymore, and perhaps that is for the best. It would be too painful to be by her side and not have her. And she does not need to be burdened with my unwanted feelings.”

Eowyn arched an eyebrow. “Are you certain your feelings are unwanted?”

“I think this past week is evidence of it.”

“It is evidence that perhaps she is… avoiding you. But maybe not for the reasons you think.” She gave a laugh, slightly pained and embarrassed. “When The Ring was destroyed and the sky cleared, there were a few days where Faramir kept his distance from me. He… He thought I would ride out to Cormallen to see Aragorn.”

He blinked at her. “You are suggesting that she is acting in a similar way? But I have not shown interest in anyone but her.”

“I am simply saying that you do not know her reasons for sure. It would do you both good, I think, to speak plainly.”

He nudged her foot with his and gave her a small smile. “I will miss you, sister, when you leave.”

She grinned at him. “We still have a couple weeks yet.”

You laid your tools down and swiped at the bead of sweat on your forehead. The second last panel was finished. It showed Eomer’s return to Edoras with his uncle and Eowyn, happy and victorious. You ran your fingers over his carved face and form, unable to stop the small smile from tugging at your lips even as your heart twinged.

Deormund walked over from his station and nodded at the saddle. “You did good work today, girl. Take the rest of the day off.”

You stretched and silently thanked Eowyn for her concoction; your muscles would certainly have been more achy without it. “Thank you, sir. Perhaps I will —”

A shadow darkened the entrance and both of you looked up.

Eomer stood in the doorway, flushed and slightly out of breath. “Forgive my sudden intrusion. My lady, I wish to speak to you if you can spare the time.”

Your eyes darted from him to Deormund who simply inclined his head. “Is it important, my lord?”

“I would say so, yes. Perhaps we could walk just outside the city gates? But if you are not feeling up to it then —”

“I will go with you.” You stood and tried to slow your heart. It seemed that a week apart from him did not abate your feelings for him. If anything, the sight of him just made you long to be by his side even more.

You bid Deormund farewell and followed Eomer out of the workshop. The walk down to the city gates was silent, though many openly stared as the both of you passed. You twisted your hands together and kept your gaze fixed on the plains beyond.

As you passed through the gates, Eomer let out a breath and glanced at you. “Forgive me for taking you out here. I wished to speak to you without the risk of being overheard.”

You nodded and the both of you paused a few paces from the main road. Simbelmynë waved in the breeze, the delicate blooms rippling where they dotted the barrows. The sun was low in the sky and orange spilled across the land. The end of day bustle and the neigh of horses was just audible through the open gate.

You cleared your throat. “What is it that warrants such a precaution?” You took a breath and readied yourself. Was he unhappy with the saddle so far? Had something terrible happened? Was he being sent away?

“My lady, I hope you will forgive me for being forward, but I simply must know.” He looked into your eyes, beseeching. “Have I offended you in some way? It has not escaped my notice how you have been avoiding me.”

You opened your mouth and then snapped it shut. How could you possibly tell him the truth? It would ruin what friendship you had with him. “I… You have not offended me, I assure you.”

“Then what is it?” He looked askance at you before his eyes trailed over to the barrows. “I know I have not hidden my affection for you well. That much is evident by all the rumours circulating. But if I have made you uncomfortable in any way, please let me know. I shall endeavour to rein myself in better.”

“Affection?” You gaped at him. “You…”

He gave an awkward chuckle. “Perhaps I have not been as blatant as I thought I was. Yes, I am quite fond of you. When you started declining my invitations I thought… Well, if you do not feel the same, please tell me now. I will bear you no grudge and we will never speak of it again.”

Eomer returned your feelings? Your heart fluttered but dropped the next moment. “No, I…” Your voice came out strangled. “I can’t.”

His head snapped up, his hazel eyes intense. “You cannot? I do not understand.”

“My lord, I cannot give up my work.” You clenched your skirts in your fists. “I cannot, I will not sit idle and lonely in Meduseld forever removed from what I love so dearly. Not even for you.”

His frown deepened before his face cleared into what looked like relief. “Is that your only reservation?”

You nodded and straightened, ready to counter any argument he may have. “It pains me to be apart from you, but it would hurt more should I never carve again.”

A wide grin split his face and he laughed. “I would ask no such thing of you. I have seen my own sister trapped in a gilded cage, withering and wilting. I would not place that on another.” His smile softened and he reached up, cupping your cheek.

Blood rushed to your face and your eyes fluttered shut. Did you hear correctly? That you could have both Eomer and your work? You felt him step closer and his scent filled your nose. You peered up at him, nearly unable to bear the weight of his gaze. “But… I am not suited to be a princess, let alone a future queen.”

“I could not think of anyone better suited than you. It would be fitting, would it not? That the Queen of Rohan herself saddles the very horses of her people. I know your heart, I have seen it in your work. Your love and respect for our land, our stories, our people.”

“Eomer, I am not… But I am… But what if…”

“Peace,” he whispered, dipping his head as he tipped your chin back. “I will stop your mouth.” His lips hovered a hair’s breadth away from yours, waiting for your permission.

You gave in to the pull of your heart and surged forward. His lips were soft and warm, and he kissed with a passion that left you lightheaded. He tugged you closer, pulling your body flushed against his, and sighed a little when your hand found its place on his firm chest.

He drew back to catch his breath and he laughed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “By my troth, I love you as I live and breathe.”

You giggled, giddy and delighted. “Are you glad your uncle brought you to the workshop now?”

“I was glad the moment I laid eyes on you. Ah yes, this reminds me.” He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a creased piece of paper. He unfolded it to reveal the slightly smudged sketch of the final panel you had given him weeks ago. “I think I have discovered what was missing.”

“Hm?” You glanced at him then back at the paper, a little confused. The scene looked perfect, even Meduseld was accurate down to the patterns that decorated the arches.

“You, of course.” He gave you a fond exasperated look. “Bema, I have never met another so oblivious.”

“Oh.” You laughed and pressed your face into his chest. Your feet ached and you leaned a little bit harder on him. “Eomer, may we return now? I am quite weary.”

“Of course.” His smile turned mischievous. “Shall I carry you back?”

“Eomer, there is no need, I—” You shrieked and laughed as he picked you up, his arm under your knees and the other looped around your back. “People will talk.”

He kissed your cheek and started up the road. “Let them talk, then, and let news of their future queen spread.”

---

The line Eomer says before he kisses you is from Much Ado About Nothing

Taglist: @sotwk

#eomer x reader #eomer x y/n #eomer x you #lotr fic #lotr fanfiction #lotr fanfic #eomer #request

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love-bokumono-fics · 7 months

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandom: Trio of Towns Relationships: Female Farmer/Wayne, Female Farmer/Ex-boyfriend; Characters: Wayne, Female Farmer Additional Tags: Adopted, farmer, Hurt, Love, Unrequited Love, relationships, Denial of Feelings, Fanfiction, Parents, friends, Guilt Summary: It all started with a rejection. Scarlett can't seem to get over the loss of her best friend since she rejected his confession of love. Already dealing with her own self-worth and feelings while keeping up with daily life, things soon become difficult when a familiar face from the past comes back to haunt her. Wayne struggles to let go of the only girl he loved. However, things never go the way he plans. His parents are across the world without him. Friends are constantly concerned about his well-being. He wants to change, yet she keeps pulling him back. Can they ever hope to rekindle their long-lost friendship, or will it become something more?

The Village’s Flower: Fun With Crops - by WonderBun; WIP, 2/3, 3.6k

Rating: Explicit; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandom: Magical Melody Relationships: Amanda/Alex, Amanda/Blue, Amanda/Carl, Amanda/Bob; Characters: Amanda, Carl, Bob, Blue, Ellen, Alex, Basil Additional Tags: Sex with plants, Using plants as dildos, Flirting, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Humor, farming, Jealousy, Imagination, Masturbation Summary: Amanda was happy to join the village’s farm project. She was happy to make new friends, and the work was simple enough. But then something strange started to happen to her crops.

Tumblr Posts for A Wonderful Life Characters - by actaeoncross; WIP, 32/?, 33k

Rating: Not Rated; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi Fandoms: A Wonderful Life Relationship: Multiple Characters x Reader; Characters: Celia | Seperia | Cecilia, Cody | Gordy, Daryl, Flora, Gustafa, Lumina, Marlin | Mash | Matthew, Muffy | Molly, Nami, Rock, Reader Summary: A collection of Tumblr posts for A Wonderful Life Characters x Reader prompts. The blog is an offshoot of my main and should be found under AWL Imagines.

Festivities - by TwinklingCupcake; Complete, 1/1, 1.9k

Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Categories: F/M, Gen Fandoms: Friends of Mineral Town Relationships: Claire the Farmer & Won | Huang, Claire the Farmer/Won | Huang, the romance is soooorta there; platonic in-fic but will def lead to more; Characters: Claire, Won | Huang, Zack, guest appearance by Saibara Additional Tags: Holidays, Cultural Differences Summary: Huang never participated in Mineral Town's festivals or holidays. Whatever he celebrated, he celebrated alone. That is, until a certain moon-viewing night.

The Strong Willed Gwen - by SymphonicFantasia; WIP, 70/100, 6.9k

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: Gen Fandoms: Save the Homeland, Magical Melody, Hero of Leaf Valley Relationship: Bob | Kazan/Gwen | Sara; Character: Gwen Additional Tags: Animal Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Romance, Character Study, Character Development Summary: She was aware that she was a violent girl from time to time; it was no surprise to any of the townsfolk. That was just who she was. The strong-willed, horse loving, Inn cooking Gwen—and nothing more.

Of Arabians and Friesian Appaloosas - by SymphonicFantasia; WIP, 14/50, 2.1k

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandoms: Save the Homeland, Magical Melody, Hero of Leaf Valley Relationship: Bob | Kazan/Gwen | Sara; Characters: Bob, Gwen Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Fluffy Ending Summary: Bob has always loved Gwen. She was his life and his sunshine. His day wasn't the same if he couldn't see her smile. Ever since they were kids it has been this way and Bob wouldn't trade it for the world. And the descendant through their relationship was never an easy one.

#fresh crop monday #harvest moon #story of seasons #friends of mineral town #trio of towns #save the homeand #a wonderful life #hero of leaf valley #magical melody #we're ignoring that it's almost wednesday by the time I got this posted. time has been weird for me recently lol

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morceid · 4 years

Text

Thomas Edison Can Kiss My Ass

Dad!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Summary: The power goes out in your house, and Spencer knows how to kill the time with your kids.

Word Count: 939

Category: fluff. very much fluff.

Content Warnings: implied smut, some swearing, pregnancy mentions, implied character death

A/N: inspired by recent asks and concepts on @subspencer ! i love talking about dad spencer over there lol

You woke up to an empty bed. It was normal after Didi was born but she was now 2 years old and could go through a whole night on her own. It was just something you would have to get used to with another baby in the house.

You walked into Ollie’s nursery and saw Spencer sitting in the rocking chair, cradling the baby on his chest. You wanted to stare at the sight for hours.

“Hey. I heard him crying about an hour ago, so I came in and he kind of just fell asleep in my arms. I was able to make breakfast though. Eggs are on the counter.” He whispered as he rocked back and forth.

“I love you so much. I have to run to the store after I eat, are you gonna be okay here?”

Even though Spencer was still on call, he guest lectured online for the community college on Saturdays.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Didi will probably want to sit in with me anyways.” He smirked.

You woke up Didi and made sure she ate before heading out. The thunderstorm outside surprised you and you had to take the car instead of walking to the dollar general on the corner like normal. You only needed to get a couple of things like cereal and fruit snacks for Didi, so you were back before Spencer’s classes started to take Ollie from him.

Ollie was playing with his teething ring in his crib and you were sitting in the rocking chair next to him when the power went out. You heard a scream from Spencer’s office and picked up Ollie, holding him to your chest as you walked through the darkness and into the room you knew your distressed child was in.

Didi was sitting in Spencer’s lap, face red and wet with tears. He bounced his leg up and down, shushing her.

“Where did awl my fwends go?” the toddler whined.

“The power went out, Didi. They’ll be back later. It’s okay.” Spencer said, repeatedly kissing her forehead.

“What now?” You asked.

“Well, I’ll email my students with my phone, and Didi over here can finally dig into the rainy day box I have hidden in the closet! Come on, Didi!”

She leaped off of his lap and ran to your shared bedroom, Spencer in front of her. You sat on the couch in the living room, still holding Ollie. A moment later Spencer walked in holding quite possibly one of the largest boxes you had ever seen.

“Seriously? All of that just for a small power outage?”

“What? Power outages are fun!” He said, pulling out multiple candles and flashlights from the box.

Ollie started to fuss in your arms so you pulled your shirt down to reveal your breast and letting him latch on. It was easier to not wear a bra when Ollie was nursing instead of hassling with an extra clothing item. God, Spencer’s kids were just like him.

Didi had climbed onto the couch next to you, Spencer on the other side of her. He pulled a scrapbook out of the box and started flipping through it.

“This used to belong to your grandma, Miss Diana Reid. It has pictures of me when I was as little as you.”

“Really? Daddy, why were you so tiny?” Spencer chuckled at his daughter.

“Because, everyone is a baby at one time or another.”

“A baby? Like Ollie?”

“Yep. Exactly like Ollie. Momma was even a baby once. I can show you those pictures.”

“Oh absolutely not, Spencer. I love you but if you show our daughter that I might have to cover Ollie’s ears and have a talk with you.” You burst into laughter with the family around you.

“I can handle that.” He closed the leatherbound scrapbook and placed it back in the box, taking out a smaller, newer one, “Do you wanna see you as a baby, Didi?”

The four of you sat there, occasionally laughing at the pictures of before and afters of your pregnancies.

“I think that’s all we have so far. How about a puzzle?” Spencer dug back into the box.

You watched as Didi picked out a puzzle that would show the image of a butterfly when completed. Your family was so perfect. It was everything you had ever wanted.

Eventually you presumed you had fallen asleep, because when you woke up you were back in the bed you started your day in. Spencer had taken Ollie back to his room and put him to sleep. The exhaustion from the new baby had finally subsided for just a little bit when you realized that the bedside clock read 10:12 and that you had probably slept all day. Spencer climbed into bed behind you.

“So, Spencer, what did you do with Didi after I fell asleep?” You asked, rolling over to look at him.

“Well, we finished the puzzle, and then smelled something weird from the fridge. It was a super old take-out box. Probably from before she was even born. It was a good opportunity to teach her about mold though. I threw it out and then we read practically every book on her shelves. I ordered pizza for lunch and dinner.” Spencer had never been one to like cooking.

“Is the power still out?” You noticed the lights still weren't on, and a candle had been placed on the bedside table.

“Yep.” Spencer confirmed.

“Good. We shouldn’t have power more often.”

“And what? Go back in time and kill Thomas Edison?”

“Thomas Edison can kiss my ass.”

“Not if I do first!”

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durotoswrites · 3 years

Note

For the writing meme thingy: 🍄how do you get yourself in the mood to write? 🍑 do you/would you write smut? 📒 any fics planned?

🍄 How do you get yourself in the mood to write?

Getting in the mood to write and actually wanting to sit down and start writing are two very different things, but they're connected, so I'll explain both.

To set into “creative mode” it helps me to do these things:

Listen to music that makes me think of a character/situation in my story/stories. I've got playlists separated by character and pairing. Sometimes I also just work on curating those playlists for fun and get my brain going.

Bounce overall ideas off of my friends and husband/editor (but he's my best friend, too 💗)

Reread old chapters or recent ones and future snippets based on what I want to do.

Once I actually want to put words down, I get a little more strict with myself. I get distracted verrrry easily sometimes and I have to fight the urge to open a million more tabs when researching a small detail.

I move to instrumental music (I have playlists for different moods like “emotional”, “soft”, “sad”, etc. I usually listen to “soft” as a general soothing background sound, as I can get pretty dang emotional when I write, especially with the stuff I've been churning out lately.

So, yeah, I need tissues within reach if I get upset. (Wow, I'm not making this sound fun at all, lmao)

After sound has been established, I like to eat a snack (something with protein) because I can be under for hours, lol. Eat it and finish it. Otherwise, I get distracted.

I also like to have drinks available. I always have a bottle of water, but I also like having a hot cup of tea. I think it's the time of year for me to switch to cold barley tea.

I write while seated on a recliner with my feet up. I have my laptop on a lap desk and it's a pretty cozy setup.

I basically try to remove any excuse I have to get up once I start writing, because I am the worst procrastinator I know.

🍑Do you/would you write smut?

Heheh... heck yeah, I do. Waaaaay more than most people realize. Stuff I've actually posted? It's pretty limited. I posted a couple pieces (Let Me Love You and You're Like the Sunshine) a few years ago, but I've been practicing ever since. One of my planned stories literally has what I refer to as a “smut dump” in the draft where I've been experimenting with writing different moods. I like the intimate scenes to play a role in the overall plot or have it be a bonding experience.

Despite that, I do have a shameless Gray x Mary story I should just get out there that has zero plot, just two cuties in love. In my mind it's so naughty and kinky and I get flustered thinking about it (Mary is hot, okay?), but it's probably hella vanilla, lmao. I really am grateful that people have been really supportive about my writing smut despite what I usually write, and they've been so encouraging, too! I honestly feel like the smut I've posted is really stilted because I was so self-conscious about it. I don't feel like they are terrible for first attempts, but I have definitely grown more comfortable writing it.

Will The Shy Newcomer become explicit? I kinda really want it to, but I might separate the chapters for those who don't care for that content. Overall, I'd like to write more and post more, and I want to write more than just male x female smut as well. I have some of those in my planned pieces (more about them later).

📒 Any Fics Planned?

Firstly, I'm super tickled more than one person was interested in this. I copied the answer I wrote earlier.

Short answer: Yes. I also plan to bring more of my stories over from ffn to Ao3.

Long answer under the cut, heheh. I rambled quite a bit.

Ask me about my writing processes and stories!

I have so many WIPs that haven’t been touched in years that I’d like to finish, so new planned fics aren’t posted yet. Some of them have more adult themes than most of the stuff I’ve been writing, so I get flustered sharing them. I’ve been at a crossroads, as I feel that you can’t have growth without changing things up. On the other hand, I feel like a lot of my readers associate my works with a specific “wholesome” feel-good mood. It’s kinda nice to be known for something, although that might just be my ego talking, thinking that people recognize my work as a “type”.

Regardless, in the end, I feel growth is necessary.

I don’t want to leave a lot of unfinished WIPs waiting because they stress me out and I have too many of them already, so I’d like to have a bulk of my new stories with a good chunk written before I decide to post them.

Among those include:

A longfic featuring Pete’s farm in Forget-Me-Not Valley (A blend of HMDS with the FoMT plugin and AWL). It takes place in the same universe as The Shy Newcomer (Claire in Mineral Town) and there are a few overlapping moments, although Pete’s story starts first. Pete’s personality is verrry different from Claire’s, and his story was kind of supposed to be the yang to TSN’s yin. Pete’s best friends in his story are Ruby (not sure if I’m adding Tim yet), Nami, and Rock. Readers will be treated to a poorly-socialized pre-Mineral Town Cliff (if you think he was bad at the beginning of TSN, well… heh… he’s a wreck here).

Another planned unpublished story is a crossover of Harvest Moon and the movie “In This Corner of the World”, based on a manga of the same name by Fumiyo Kouno. It was written as a gift for a friend. I have the entire outline figured out and have slowly been filling it in. My friend asked for an AU where Claire and Cliff have an arranged marriage and live with his family in Akiyama, the hometown I had created for Cliff in The Shy Newcomer. I took the opportunity to expand the characters in his family. I have it written during the same time period and society as “In This Corner of the World”, but had decided to write a spreading disease as an allegory for war, but then COVID happened and some parts of it just got really hard to write. There are also a lot of sexually explicit content as Claire slowly grows and learns from her spouse that it’s okay to express what she wants despite sex being a taboo issue. If there’s enough interest in the story, I’ll post it, but I worry it’s a little too niche for there to be many people into it.

Pastor Carter and Doctor Trent are one of my favorite rare pair ships. I’ve had a partial draft for a story about them for a few years now, especially focusing on Trent growing up and acknowledging that he has an unhealthy addiction for things that he knows he can’t have. There are some more adult/sexual themes in this piece, too, including the main character lusting after a married woman (who also happens to be his patient) and some lemons. (Does anyone call it that anymore or is it just referred to as “smut” nowadays? Haha) I always feel so bad for neglecting the folks at the clinic in-game and wanted to write a piece that focused more on them, Trent specifically. It’s a multi-chap fic, but I don’t think I’m going to let it get as long as some of my other pieces.

I also really want to write a short romantic oneshot for every marriage candidate in Mineral Town, around 1,000 words each. So far, I have one for Cliff and one for Gray. I want to write Claire with everyone, because I think it would be fun to explore all the different personalities.

I have more installments planned for A Single Day, including a day in the life of the following characters, all with drafts in varying degrees of progress:

Anna

Doug

Nora (yes, I’m writing from the point of view of the cat living at the inn)

More to come – I think Lillia and Thomas would be especially interesting to explore

I do still have that Legend of Zelda Majora’s Mask piece I’ve been pondering where Link befriends the soul of the deku scrub child while possessed by the mask. I don’t have much written about it, but I really love the world of Majora’s Mask. Such a fun game.

I also think about the lead carpenter’s son in Ocarina of Time and that weird side quest involving the blue chicken and the son being lost to the forest. Then that unique-looking kokiri girl explaining that all who get taken in the lost woods become stalfos. Like, did the guy die? Was he sick? Did he want to die? There’s just so much going on there that would be fun to explore.

I also have played OMORI recently and have like… A LOT of feelings about it. I don’t know what I’d write, but I’m still damn impressed at how well the characters are developed in such a short game.

Other games I’ve had vague ideas about writing for include the following:

The Flame in the Flood: I’m thinking a survivalist/action story fleshing out Scout’s backstory a bit more and her thoughts as she’s traveling. I feel like she’s a very lonely person, but isn’t given the chance to really dwell on it.

Night In the Woods: I’d love to write more about Mae’s dreams and what they mean to her. She doesn’t really talk to anyone about them openly, so it’s really hard to tell her feelings about them in some regards. We know that she’s distressed about them, but I’d like to dive a little deeper. Do the nightmares end after the games does? What about Bea’s new nightmares?

Hades (Supergiant Games): I think it would be fun to write more about the events that take place before the game starts, like Zagreus’s duties in the house of Hades, and expand on the strained relationship with his father.

#ask games #writing #jake-marshall

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the-mighty-jellybean · 4 years

Text

Black & Blue

Bruise: an injury appearing as an area of discoloured skin on the body, caused by a blow or impact rupturing underlying blood vessels...

Series Summary:

‘They littered her arms like splashes of watercolor paints, Steve couldn't stop staring, she pulled at the sleeves of her cardigan when she caught him. “I fell.” she muttered, pulling the fabric tight over her fragile body. All Steve wanted to do was pick her up, and put her in a box, like you would a broken bird. He wanted to fix this little bird, but he didn't know how.’

Pairing: Doctor!Steve x Reader, Brock x Reader

Series Warning: This story is going to be quite dark and heavy, and will contain heavy themes of domestic abuse. There will be: Violence and possible Noncon, if you are uncomfortable with any of these themes, please don't read, this book won't be for you.

Part One// Part Two// Part Three// Part Four// Part Five// Part Six// Part Seven// Part Eight// Part Nine// Part Ten// Part Eleven// Part Twelve// Part Thirteen// Part Fourteen// Part Fifteen// Part Sixteen// Part Seventeen// Part Eighteen// Part Nineteen// Part Twenty// Part Twenty-One// Part Twenty-Two// Part Twenty-Three Part Twenty-Four//

Part Twenty-Five: Last Man Standing

Chapter Warnings: Strong Language, Violence

Word Count: 5.4k

“I just can’t stop staring at her.” Steve whispered, as he stood over the small basinet that lay next to Y/N’s side of the bed. Steve was sat on the edge of the bed, Y/N had curled around his body, one hand resting on Steve’s thigh, the other was brushing her fingers along the side of Ruby’s face, her skin feeling so smooth and delicate beneath them.

“I know, I’m terrified that she’s going to just stop breathing, if I look away.” Y/N worried, watching the way she scrunched up her face, before settling once again.

“You don’t need to worry about that, sweetheart. She’s perfectly healthy, and you’re doing amazing.” Steve kissed the side of Y/N’s head, brushing some of her hair out of her face.

“You say that, yet these…” Y/N rolled onto her back, and waved her hands around her chest, “…don’t appear to want to work.”

“You just need to be a patient, sweetie. It’ll be okay.” Steve smiles, looking back at the slightly squirming infant; “Speaking of which, I think someone might be getting a little hungry.”

Steve leant forward, scooping Ruby into his arms, admiring the way she pushed her face into the material of his t-shirt, searching for something that she wasn’t going to find, with the male species.

“I can’t do it, Steve.” Y/N sighed, sitting up and taking Ruby from Steve.

“Just try for me, bubba. I’ll help you.” Steve turned so that he was now facing Y/N, helping her to roll up her shirt, Y/N moved forward allowing Steve to unhook her bra, freeing her sore breasts.

“Sit up a bit more, sweetheart.” Steve supports Ruby, whilst Y/N shuffled up, so that she was more upright.

“Okay, now just breathe, you’re putting too much thought and stress into it, just relax.” Steve guided Ruby’s head, so that it could find Y/N’s chest. For a moment, Ruby’s wobbly head, struggled to latch on, but soon she found her way to Y/N’s breast.

“See, you just need to relax.” Steve spoke softly so not to disturb the now quietly suckling baby.

Steve stroked over the light fuzz on the top of Ruby’s head, Y/N gazed into Ruby’s eyes, relieved that they resembled hers, rather than somebody else’s.

“She’s so beautiful.” Steve murmured, Y/N didn’t think that Steve had stopped admiring Ruby since she was born, he just seemed completely entranced by her.

“She truly is.” Y/N mumbled, Ruby’s eyes slowly fluttering shut, the more she drank.

“She looks just like you, from her hair, to her tiny toes.” Steve palmed the soles of Ruby’s exposed feet, her feet flexed as a reaction.

“I think she has tickly feet.” Y/N commented, after Ruby pulled her feet away from Steve’s hands.

“I love you so much.” Steve suddenly said, Y/N looked up at him, to see that Steve was looking directly into her eyes, his face serious.

“I love you too.” Y/N giggled, surprised by his sudden need to express his love.

“I’ve never been prouder of anyone in my life…you were just so incredible…you were just…”

“I get it. Stop. Please.” Y/N chuckled; Steve’s cheeks glowed with embarrassment as he dropped his chin to his chest.

“I love you too, but please stop with the compliments; it’s embarrassing.” Steve nodded, sliding back onto the other side of Y/N, wrapping his arm tightly around Y/N’s shoulder.

“Sure, honey. Whatever you want.”

~~~~

“So how long are you going?” Y/N bounced up and down, as she asked Steve the question. Ruby fussing in her arms.

“Thankfully it’s just half a shift, but it can always run over, but I’ll try and get home to you as soon as I can. I’ll call you when I can, to check in on you. If you have any problems then you can just give me a ring, my phone will remain in my pocket this time.” Steve winked, then leaned in to kiss Y/N fleetingly on the lips, before disappearing out the door.

Leaving Y/N with the squawking baby, and a load of housework to do.

“Wow, love you too, darling husband.” Y/N huffed, placing Ruby down in her bouncy chair, “Come on, bubs, we’ve got to work together here.”

Y/N sighed heavily as she bounced the seat up and down, eventually Ruby’s cries began to die down, turning it to soft whimpers, then Y/N grabbed her pacifier and her cries completely disappearing.

“That’s my baby.” Y/N smiled, turning to the pile of ironing in the corner of their laundry room, hands going to her hips. “Right, let the games begin.”

So far Y/N had managed to get through most of the ironing, when a knock on the front door nearly startled Ruby awake.

Y/N spun round, squinting as Ruby thrashed around a little, before resuming her regular sleep positions. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she walked to the front door, only to be greeted by their neighbour, Andy.

“Morning, Y/N.” He smiled, Y/N looked at him sceptically, he had been doing this more and more, since Y/N and Steve had moved in. Turning up after Steve had left for work, wanting to chat, or he would sometimes bring their post from their letter box for them. It was strange and the man seemed harmless, but Y/N couldn’t help but be on edge around the man she didn’t know.

“Morning Andy, how can I help you this morning?” Y/N asked shyly, hiding half her face behind the door, the safety chain still in it’s place.

“Just thought I’d tell you that there are some workmen coming in today, there’s been some problems with the gas.” Y/N eyed the man, not sure what he was saying was true.

“I’ve not had any issues, Steve would have said this morning, when he had a shower. I think it’s fine for us, but thank you, I’ll keep an eye on it.” Y/N went to shut the door, but it was abruptly stopped by Andy’s foot being wedged in the door.

“Please take your foot away, Andy.” Y/N began to panic, her hands gripping the door frame.

“I’m just saying, that there will be some workmen knocking on your door, in a few hours, just thought I’d prewarn you.” Andy seemed slightly unnerved, himself, but his foot stayed.

“Okay…I understand that…Now please remove your foot.” Y/N speaks slowly, Andy removed his foot at a similar pace, and Y/N quickly closed the door on him. Leaning back against it, her hand going to her chest, feeling the way her heart, beat rapidly against her palm.

Exhaling, she pushed herself off the door, walking towards the still sound asleep baby.

“We’re going to be okay, we can do this can’t we, Rubes. It’s just a couple of workmen, we don’t need to call daddy.” Y/N mainly spoke to herself, as her shaky fingers, pulled the blanket tighter over Ruby

“Yeah we can do this, mommy’s just being silly.” Y/N shook her head at herself, going back to the pile of clothes that still needed folding.

A few hours later, another knock came to the door, making Y/N jump, which alarmed Ruby, who was resting in Y/N’s arms, making her squeal and shriek.

“Awl Ruby, please darling.” She rocked the baby, staggering to the door, as she tried to hush the child.

“Who is it?” She called over the wails of the newborn, Ruby’s lips quivering with the amount of force she was using to cry out.

“It’s the gas man, I’ve come to look at your boiler?” A man’s rough voice spoke from the other side. Hesitating, Y/N’s hand rested on the door chain unsure if she wanted to slide that little ball of metal across, removing her one line of defence.

However, Ruby’s cries grew louder and louder, Y/N couldn’t take the crying anymore, and she felt embarrassed that the man had, had to wait so long already.

Y/N slid the chain over, and with her back to the door, turned the lock on the door, allowing it to swing open, freely.

“Sorry, she’s a newborn, the boilers in there, I need to sort her out.” Y/N explained, pointing to the laundry room, where the boiler sat, she didn’t look up from Ruby’s scarlet face, as she wondered into the bedroom bouncing the newborn in her arms, hoping to soften the cries.

“It’s okay, I’ve got a new baby in the house, I understand.” The man said behind her, Y/N barely paid attention, just briefly throwing a look over her shoulder, to see the man dressed in mainly black, with a black hat on. He bent down in the laundry room, and placed his toolbox on the ground, keeping his back to Y/N and the baby.

“Really you got any tips for a new mom, because my god I will take anything.” Y/N breathed, looking down at her screaming baby.

“Not really, we’re pretty new to this ourselves.” The man laughed, reaching into his bag to pull out some sort of equipment.

“Oh really, how old is yours?” Y/N asked, placing her pinky finger into Ruby’s mouth, it worked to calm her cries, and Y/N could now hear the man more clearly.

“It’s a little girl, and she’s only a few weeks old, I think maybe two or three.” Y/N wasn’t so keen on that answer, quirking her eyebrow.

“How do you not know how old your baby is?” Y/N asked, in a jovial voice, not wanting to appear rude.

“Oh, my wife deals with all that, I just get to cuddle her when I get home from work.” The man answered, Y/N recognised the voice, as the man’s accent slipped slightly.

“Where did you say you were from?” Y/N pulled Ruby closer to her out of natural instinct, not liking the man’s behaviour.

“Oh, I move around a lot Miss Y/L/N, but I’m from Maine originally.” Y/N’s heart speeded up, she eyed the man knelt in her laundry room, creeping towards the front door slightly.

“How did you know my name was Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N rushed.

“It was on the list of people’s gas, I needed to check.” The man mumbled, he reached into his duffel bag again, his hand remaining hidden.

“My name is Mrs Rogers, has been for a few months now, I bought this apartment under that name, so the tenancy should say that. What did you say your name was again?” Y/N’s breathing became very shallow, when the man rose from the floor, his hand following the rest of his body, revealing the handgun. The man turned, and Y/N shrieked startling Ruby, as she ran to the front door.

“Aw, princess, are you not happy to see me?” Brock laughed, watching Y/N struggle on the door, that he had previously locked.

Y/N pounded her fists onto the door, as she tugged at the handle, Ruby screaming in her arm.

“Let me out, let me out of here!” Y/N screamed banging on the front door, Ruby pressed close to her chest;

“Stay away from me!” Y/N yelled, when Brock moved from the laundry room, heading towards Y/N and the baby.

Brock approached the flailing woman, a wicked smile stretched across his face, he stopped just short of the two of them, Y/N’s eyes drifted to the kitchen counter, one of the knives Steve had used last night to make dinner, laid abandoned by the kitchen sink.

Brock followed Y/N’s gaze, spotting the knife, and his eyes snapped back to Y/N.

“What are you going to do, princess? You gonna grab that knife? Huh, finish me off properly?” Brock teased; the hand that held the gun shook slightly.

“Do you think, that you could make it to that knife before I blew a hole in your head?” Brock began to pace towards Y/N once again. Y/N shrunk back sliding down the door, holding Ruby as close as she could.

“No, please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt my baby.” Y/N cried, burring her face in Ruby’s blanket.

“Princess, I don’t want to hurt you…well I don’t want to hurt the baby, I can promise that, you…maybe not so much, but the baby, the baby will remain unharmed.” Brock grinned, grabbing Y/N by the scruff of her shirt, and heaving her onto her feet making her scream. She turned to pull on the door again, pounding on the fake wood.

Y/N hoped if she made enough noise that one of the neighbours might hear something, like they had done on that fateful night.

“Princess, the door is locked, it’s not going to open. Why do you keep trying?” Brock shook Y/N by her shirt, Y/N held Ruby close so that the movement wouldn’t make her drop her.

“I know why. It’s because you’re stupid,” Brock spat, “what are you?!” Brock bellowed, making Y/N shake, “Huh, tell me what you are, tell me!”

“I’m stupid.” Y/N squeaked, barely audible over the cries of the baby.

The sound of Y/N’s ring tone broke the air of suspense, Y/N’s head snapped to the device, and she tried to grab it, before Brock could but she couldn’t reach it in time.

Brock threw Y/N to the side, she had to be careful to catch herself, before she fell on Ruby; he moved to the phone, picking it up.

“Awe that’s sweet. Lover boy must be checking up on you.” Brock mocked, clicking the off button on the phone.

“If I don’t answer him, then he’ll come home. He gets worried about me, because he cares-“

“Just be quiet, I’m not going to be here for much longer.” Brock threw Y/N’s phone into the sink.

Brock pulled out one of the chairs, under the table, seating himself down, resting the gun on the top. Y/N slouched onto the floor, a few metres away from his feet, rocking Ruby, hoping to calm her cries.

“So, when was my daughter born then, I had to use your neighbour for months, hoping that he would get me some information about my little girl. Yet he was useless.” Brock flicked his head to Y/N, her hands shook as she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Andy?” Y/N quivered.

“Yes, that boring bastard.” Brock pretend yawned, “Made him check on you every day, yet he still didn’t tell me when the baby was born.” Brock huffed, before he sat up in the chair, spinning in it slightly so he could lean heavily on his elbows, and glared at Y/N.

“Tell me, did it hurt?” Y/N looked up at Brock, unsure of what he meant.

“Did what hurt?” She whispered.

“See what did I say, completely stupid!” Brock yelled, making Y/N flinch, and Ruby’s softening cries erupt into howls once again, “What the fuck did you think I meant. Did it hurt when you pushed that out of your pussy?”

Y/N cringed at Brock’s vulgar language, grateful that Ruby was too young to understand what was happening.

“Well!” Brock pressed.

“Umm…yes, it hurt.” Y/N didn’t know what Brock wanted her to say.

“Like really hurt, did you think you were going to die?” Brock’s face twisted up into a wicked smile.

“What do you think would hurt more, pushing out another one of my kids, or a bullet in your leg?” Brock’s tone had dropped into a sinister pitch, Y/N shuddered at his words.

“I don’t know…I don’t understand the question.” Y/N wobbled, shuffling so her knees were pulled close, shielding Ruby.

“Fucking stupid.” Brock hissed.

“It’s a fairly simple question, which would you rather want; to push one of my kids out, or be shot in the leg?” Brock snapped.

“What do you want Brock, what do you want from me?” Y/N shook.

“I want to know if it’s worth me bringing you with me, when I take that baby, or whether I should just shoot you in the leg, so that you can suffer that pain, as well as, the agony of knowing that I’m raising our baby.” Brock shrugged, as if the statement he had just made, didn’t feel as though he had already shot her.

“She’s my baby, and she’s not going anywhere with you.” Y/N seethed through her teeth, the mother bear instinct kicking into a full swing.

“Well, if I shot you in the head then you couldn’t exactly stop me, could you?” Brock stood from the chair, wondering over to Y/N’s trembling figure, holding the barrel of the gun against her temple.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her lips to Ruby’s head, holding her breath waiting for the sound to come.

“But, I couldn’t do that,” Brock lowered the gun, turning away, “I want you to suffer…like I’ve suffered.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Y/N snivelled, a little breathless, as she realised, she was now engaging with a waltz with Death, that she hadn’t practiced for.

At Y/N’s words, Brock rushed towards her, pulling Y/N back up to her feet, their faces were inches from each other.

“Because you couldn’t just take it, could you?” Flecks of Brock’s silva sprayed Y/N’s face as he spat out his words, it almost burned like venom from a snake, “You couldn’t just be a good little girl, and do as you were told, without the answering back, without the disobedience, without the adultery. Just let me fuck you where and when I want, you couldn’t let me have that could you, you couldn’t let me enjoy myself.”

“You raped me, Brock. My baby, was conceived out of hatred and violence.” Y/N choked, the way Brock lifted her up by her collar had caused the material to tighten around her neck.

“It’s our baby, and you’ve ruined my life, with your little crying rape story.” Brock put on a high-pitched voice as he accused Y/N of lying.

“Because of you, I’ve lost everything. Funny enough companies don’t usually allow suspected rapists to defend them in court. So, do you know what that means? Do you? Answer me!” Brock yelled.

“No, I don’t know what it means-what-what does it mean?” Y/N blubbered, Brock’s tone becoming more and more frightening.

“It means S.H.I.E.L.D let me go, without any clients, I was useless to them. I lost everything because of you. So, I’m going to take back what I’m owed.” Brock’s eyes dropped to the fluff of hair that was peeking out from under the blanket.

“No, no you’re not taking my baby, anywhere.” Y/N pulled against Brock’s hand, that was gripping her tightly.

“She’s mine. I deserve her.”

“As what, a consolation prize, for being a rapist?” Y/N shrieked, managing to break free of the hold Brock had on her, stumbling backwards slightly.

“As a fresh start, a new life.” Brock smiled; his eyes were still fixed on the little baby in Y/N’s arms.

“You will never take this baby from me.” Y/N glared, the need to protect her baby, was far stronger than her fear.

“Why take her away from you. Come with us. I’m sure, after some time has passed, I could learn to forgive you for what you did. I’m sure you could make it up to me, like you used to.” Brock’s eyes darted down to his crotch, and Y/N had to swallow hard to stop herself from vomiting.

“I’d sooner rip your dick off, than let you touch my daughter or me ever again.” Y/N threatened, the anger in her rising.

“You know for someone’s who’s only weapon is a little baby, you really shouldn’t be making threats, against a man, who with just one squeeze of his fingers, could blow your brains across these lovely white walls.” Brock taunted, waving the gun in his hand.

Y/N didn’t flinch, she just narrowed her eyes, wishing she could shoot daggers out of them.

Suddenly in the far distance was the sound of sirens, they appeared to be of a length away, however, they appeared to be getting closer.

“What did you do?” Brock lunges towards Y/N and before she could escape his grasp, his hand grabbed hold of her arm, and was pulling her into their bedroom.

“Nothing, how could I do anything, you’ve held me hostage for the last hour.” Y/N chided, stumbling over her own feet, as Brock tossed her into her room, barricading them both into the room by pushing the items of furniture into the bedroom. “I told you, you should have let me speak to Steve, he’s been on edge since the trial.”

“What are you doing, you do know there is a large window, right here.” Y/N points over her shoulder at the Manhattan skyline, that stand behind her.

“Shut the fuck up.” Brock retorted, pushing Y/N to the side, so that he could get to the large heavy curtains, tugging them around, leaving just a small space for him to peak out of.

“What’s your plan now? Hold us hostage?” Y/N plonked onto the bed, glancing down to look at Ruby, who was looking back at her, her lower lip wobbling a little.

“Be quiet, I’m thinking.” Brock began pacing, Y/N could see through the small gap in the curtains and could hear the sirens that were attached to the battalion of cars, that were flooding the street below.

Brock stopped mid-pace, when he spotted the picture frame on the bedside table. Bucky had gifted it to Y/N and Steve a few weeks ago; it was a framed photograph of Y/N, Steve and Ruby, it had been taken a few minutes after Ruby had been born, the two of them were smiling as they gazed at the fresh little bundle in their arms.

“The perfect family.” Brock spoke lowly, walking to the table, and picking up the frame.

“He’s the best father in the world.” Y/N argued, pulling Ruby into her once again, as Brock looked down at the frame.

“He’s not a father.” Brock raised the frame, “You’re living a lie. He will never satisfy your needs like I can, princess. He can’t look after you the way that I can.”

Brock threw the picture to the floor, the glass shattering onto the floor, he stamped onto it, a few more times, before kicking it away.

“Feel better? Does it make you feel like a man, ruining other people’s lives?” Y/N growled; her eyes fixed on the pile of glass.

“Stop talking, unless you’re going to give me that baby or agree to come with me, I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth.” Brock barked, starting to stalk the room once again.

Both of their heads whipped to the door, hearing banging coming through the wood, echoing from the front door.

“Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me, are you in there?” Sam’s voice broke through the banging, Y/N stood from the bed, opening her mouth to scream.

“One sound, and I’ll shoot you, I don’t care, who I hit.” Brock whispered harshly.

“He’ll know that I’m here. He knows that I don’t leave the house without Steve.” Y/N muttered, just as fierce.

“Brock, if you’re in there, then just come out now, before you make things worse.” Sam tried once again.

“I’m not going anywhere till I get what I came for.” Brock roared back, making Y/N shudder at the harshness of his voice.

Ruby began to fuss in Y/N’s arms, she could pick up on the tension and the anxiousness that she could feel from her mother.

“Shut her up.” Brock was growing angrier and angrier, his fists were shaking, the gun in his hand was beginning to rattle.

“That’s easier said than done.” Y/N peeled Ruby away from her chest, the little newborn starting to weep.

“What’s the time?” Y/N asked Brock, noticing the way Ruby smacked her lips together.

“Why got somewhere to be?” Brock snarled, tapping his foot.

“No, I just think that she needs a feed, and I don’t want to do it in front of you.” Y/N glared, trying to hush Ruby, who was growing hangrier and hangrier.

“Why, I’ve seen it all before.” Brock winked, again Y/N felt sick to her stomach.

“Please, just let me go in the bathroom, it’s not like I can run away from in there.” Y/N sassed.

“Just turn around, I won’t be able to see anything if you have your back to me.” Brock chided.

“I hate you.” Y/N mumbled, shuffling around so her back was to Brock.

Y/N struggled, trying to make Ruby latch on, but she just broke out into shrill cries.

“I told you to shut her up.” Brock snapped, Y/N threw a glare over her shoulder, before struggling to get Ruby to feed.

“You’re scaring her.” Y/N muttered, stroking Ruby’s cheek in an attempt to get her to be quiet.

“Scaring her, how can I scare her? She doesn’t have a fucking clue, what’s going on?” Brock bellowed, making the crying situation worse.

“Well, what is happening here? I mean what are you actually doing, there are police at the door, going by that thudding noise coming from the window, there is some kind of helicopter, just outside the glass. What is your plan now, now that you’ve got nowhere to run.” Y/N covered herself up, giving up on feeding Ruby, and just glaring at Brock, who looked like he hadn’t the faintest idea what to do next.

The awkward suspense was broken by another phone going off; this time it was Brock’s in his pocket. Slowly sliding it out, he suspiciously answered it, not breaking his eye contact with Y/N, as he listened to the voice on the end of the phone.

“Oh, it’s you.” Brock spoke, gruffly, “…what I want is for you lot to move back, I’m going to look through the spy hole in the door, if I see a single one of your men I’m going to shoot, Y/N and the kid. I want all of your men out of the building, and that helicopter, I want it gone…”

Y/N realised that Brock was making his demands, her ears twitched as she listened intently, gently rocking Ruby, who was beginning to calm down.

“I mean it Wilson if I see a single blue flashing light, you’re going to be dealing with a double homicide.” Y/N perked up when she heard Brock use the name Wilson, she couldn’t decide whether she was still scared, or slightly relieved to know that she had friends so close.

It went quiet once more as Sam was clearly responding to Brock’s demands.

“Fine…but make it quick.” The phone was thrusted into Y/N’s face, she flinched back, but with shaky hands, she took the device, holding it to her ear.

“Hello?” She said, cautiously.

“Y/N, is that you?” Sam’s worried voice played through the mobile.

“Yeah, it’s me, Sam.” Y/N’s eyes darted to Brock, who was already staring at her.

“What’s going on, are you and the baby oka-Steve…hey…no…you can-“

“Sweetheart…Sweetheart…can you hear me, are you okay?” Suddenly Sam was pushed off the phone, and Steve breathed heavily done the line.

“I’m okay, so is Ruby, were just a little shaken up.” Y/N watched Brock’s grip pulse on the gun, as he grew more and more nervous, the longer the phone call continued.

“Has he hurt you, I swear to god, if he has-“

“No, Steve. We’re fine.”

“Steve? I didn’t agree to that.” Brock snatched the phone out of Y/N’s hand, “Listen hear Rogers; if you don’t get Wilson to move his men out of the building, I’m shooting your pretty little wife in the head, then I’m killing that baby.” Brock abruptly ended the call, before lifting the gun and pointing it at Y/N.

Y/N turned her back on Brock, attempting to shield Ruby with her body.

“Brock, please, please don’t do this…I’ll do what you want, whatever it is, I’ll do it.” Y/N begged, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You should have thought of that, when you decided to ruin my career.” Brock’s voice dripped like poison, making Y/N’s head hurt.

The soft thud that had been outside the window for quite some time, had now passed, leaving just the usual noises of Manhattan to fill the empty space. Brock lowered the gun and walked to the window, carefully angling the curtains, so that he could peek through the gap, without being spotted.

When he was satisfied with the view, he went back to the door, removing the items of furniture that were obscuring the way out.

“Stay here, don’t fucking move, or you’ll have a hole in your head.” Brock threatened, before walking out of the bedroom, to look out through the spy hole by the front door.

Brock soon returned, grabbing hold of Y/N’s arm, heaving her onto her feet.

“Don’t touch me.” Y/N snarled, ripping her arm out of his grip.

“I’ll do what I fucking want.” Brock spat, grabbing hold of Y/N’s hair, “Now fucking walk.”

Using the fist of hair, he had achieved in grasping, Brock manipulated Y/N’s head, before pushing her through the door. Once again, Y/N had to stop herself from falling on top of Ruby, steadying herself with a nearby couch.

“Wait.” Brock ordered, just as they were walking past the open planned kitchen. Brock moved in front of Y/N, to check the spy hole for the last time. Y/N’s eyes darted to the knife that still lay on the counter, as quickly as she could she grabbed it, hiding it under Ruby’s blanket that was over her chest.

Brock turned around none the wiser.

“Right, move it.” Brock pushed Y/N again back to the door.

Brock unlocked it, and Y/N twisted the handle, then she edged her way out of the apartment, eyes scanning the corridor, but feeling disheartened when there was no sign of a police officer or Steve to be found.

“Move.” The barrel of the gun was pressed in between Y/N’s shoulder blades, forcing her to move forwards, and be guided along the walkway by Brock.

“When we get to the lobby, you better do exactly as I say, or I’ll start shooting, got it?” Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, her hand sweating around the concealed blade.

Slowly they made their way to the end of the hallway, before taking a short trip down the stairwell, all the while, Y/N’s hand remained firm on the handle of the knife.

Brock grabbed the back of Y/N’s neck, making her stop in her tracks, just before the two of them walked around a corner, which would leave them in the middle of the lobby.

“Wait there.” Brock pushed Y/N behind him, whilst he craned his neck around the wall, observing the fleet of cops that waited by the door.

Y/N watched the space at the back of Brock’s neck, the exosed skin between his t-shirt and hairline.

Her grip tightened on the knife, seeing this as her chance she removed the knife from the blanket, raising it above her head, the tip wobbled slightly, from the vibrations in Y/N’s trembling hands. Holding her breath, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, bringing it down with the force of a thousand men, straight into the gap.

Brock made an odd gurgling sound, followed by some drowned groans. However, Y/N didn’t stay around to find out what was happening, cupping the back of Ruby’s head, she made a run for it, towards the doors; her and Ruby screamed all the way.

“Contact, hands in the air, put your hands in the air.” Eight or nine members of the SWAT team, with their guns held high, began to yell.

Y/N a sobbing mess, didn’t know where to look, she just needed Steve.

“Help me! Help me, please!” Y/N shrieked, Ruby was probably crying her throat raw, as she screeched just as loudly.

“Put your guns down, put your guns down!” A familiar voice broke through the group of men. A man Y/N recognised, alongside a fellow blonde, came into Y/N’s blurry vision.

“Sweetheart, sweetheart, I’m here, come to me.” Steve’s voice sounded like a songbird, Y/N broke into another sprint, before running into Steve’s open arms.

“Where is he, where is he?!” Y/N screamed and trembled, her voice cracking as her body broke out into a full tremor, not knowing how far Brock had managed to stagger, after she had severed most of his vital nerves in his neck.

Steve was holding the back of her neck, as he held her head away, so she couldn’t she see the operation that was underway.

“Where he belongs, bubba…” Steve watched as a few members of the police squad walked into the building, it wasn’t long before they returned, carrying a black bag, the size of a man.

“He’s where he belongs…in hell.”

A/N: Aye, not gonna lie, I did debate a darker ending, but I’m too emotional right now to do that, and all I want is a three-way cuddle with Bucky and Steve, and nothing else will console me.

Thank you to everyone, who enjoyed this book, it’s been a journey. There has been tears, laughter and anger, all of the best emotions and reflexes rolled into one, however; our time together has come to an end. I am going to take a little break from writing, just for a moment, because I’ve just had a busy couple few weeks, but I think I will put a Q & A post up on Monday, just to keep up with you guys.

The next book, is in the boardroom at the moment, and I’ll start working on it in a few weeks, but for now I need to chill for a sec.

For those of you who have sent me some prompts I will get round to doing them, I just as I’ve said a lot, need a rest for a bit. But you will be done at some point.

Love you all,

JellyBean xxxxx

Taglist:

@this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @cutie1365 @saiyanprincesswanie @pasaaloquepasaa @emma-is-a-nerd @traumschiffe @putinovertime @vibraniumdaisies @brownsugur @speechlessxx @winchester-wifey @buckys-forgotten-plum @lou-la-lou @candy-and-writing @lemonadygirl @marvelinsanity @captainamerica-is-bae

#steve rogers #steve x reader #steve fic #steve angst #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow #doctor!steve #doctor!steve x reader #dark fic #dark steve fic #dark marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel movies #reader insert

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awlimagines · 6 months

Text

Well, that was a New Year’s Eve kiss you won’t forget anytime soon.

It was the last day of winter in Forget-Me-Not Valley. In the city, you would have a dozen plans that would result in remaining home to ring in the New Year alone. There was a party at the Bluebird Bar tonight, but you hesitated to attend. It wasn’t that you didn’t have anything to celebrate. In a year, you had improved the farm immensely, and villagers had commented on how great you had done. But you had yet to give the Blue Feather to someone special like Takakura suggested in the summer. You twirled the item in question between your fingertips. He surely wasn’t serious about you getting married so quickly. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you glanced again at the clock. You grabbed your coat and left for the party. If this would be your last night in the valley, you’d at least go out with a bang.

DARYL

You sighed at the Bluebird’s counter. Being squeezed between Gustafa and Nami on one side and Rock and Lumina on the other did not make you feel less alone. As Rock’s elbow knocked into you again, you forced a friendly smile and made an excuse to leave. Molly managed to tear her attention away from Gordy long enough to politely argue against you going so close to midnight. You firmly stated a farewell before escaping the company of the couples and into the night. Your warm breath misted in the still-cool air as you exhaled deeply. There wasn’t anything you wanted to avoid more than making awkward eye contact with Griffin while everyone else around you shared a New Year’s kiss. Movement caught your eye as you took the first steps back to the farm. Daryl was returning to his lab. While hustling after the scientist, you thanked the goddess for the lack of ice.

“Daryl, wait,” you panted, catching him before he closed the door behind him.

Now that you had caught him, you weren’t sure what to do. You stared blankly at him, and his eyebrow rose as he impatiently waited for you to speak. You hesitated a moment longer before grabbing his lab coat and pulling the thin man into a crushing hug. You could feel him stiffen beneath you.

“W-what are you-”

“I’m going to leave the farm tomorrow,” you wailed. Over the past year, you had wasted all other opportunities to be with the others to follow the scientist you clung to. His head was too wrapped around Flora to notice your interest in him. You could feel his panic at the sound of approaching voices, and he pulled you into his lab alongside him. As he snapped the door shut, you struggled to regain control. People would get the wrong idea if they saw you clinging and crying on Daryl. A fresh wave of tears stung your eyes at the thought of telling Takakura you couldn’t marry anyone in the year. Would he kick you off the farm over that?

“I just need an hour for that, with twenty minutes and another ten, then we’ll- I think another fifteen, and that will take… three and in total,” Daryl mumbled.

“What?” you sniffed—your fears overcome by the curiosity of what Daryl was calculating.

“Yes, yes. The point is, give me one night, and I’ll change your mind. Promise,” the crazed, desperate look in his dark eyes sent your heart thudding rapidly in your chest. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you nodded to Daryl. Your silent permission was all the scientist needed to act. Like the snapped tension of a rubberband stretched beyond capacity, Daryl’s body pressed yours flush against the door. His hand glided along your neck to hold you steady as his lips hungrily claimed your own.

ROCK

You didn’t expect anyone to wear a Santa costume for a New Year’s party—especially not a little dress version. Rock proudly wore the bright red dress with a thick black belt cinched tight around his waist. He completed the look with white fishnets, fur-lined boots, and a Santa hat as he belted out “All I Want for Christmas is You” on the karaoke machine. You flushed redder than his dress when his pointed finger signaled you out as he wanted. Hurriedly, you found a space to squeeze in at the bar and request a drink. The strong liquid had just finished burning a path down your throat before Rock was at your side.

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” you asked, gesturing at his outfit and trying to ignore how warm it felt.

“No one else saw it besides my parents and Nami, though,” Rock pouted, leaning on the bar. “They didn’t even bat an eye! It would be a waste not to share. Besides, don’t you want to sit on my lap and tell me what you want?”

“Let’s go!”

You couldn’t say if it was liquid courage, desperation, or similar taunts from him over the past year, but you readily agreed. Rock froze beside you, trying to process your agreement. Checking that Molly and Griffin were busy, you grabbed the blonde’s hand to lead him to the bar’s backroom. Rock made no protest as you shoved him to sit on the bed with more confidence than you felt. His cheeky smile as he patted his lap gave you the boost needed to straddle him and press your lips hungrily into his. Rock sloppily trailed kisses down your neck as you pulled away, panting for breath. You were dimly aware of the other’s countdown as Rock’s hands pressed into your spine, holding you against him.

#harvest moon #story of seasons #story of seasons a wonderful life #harvest moon a wonderful life #sos awl #bokujou monogatari #hm awl #awl imagines #awl daryl #awl rock #awl daryl x reader #awl rock x reader #sorry for the difference in length between the two #rock doesn't feel like he needs the preamble daryl does #rock is just ready to go anytime and anywhere #i wanted to get gustafa's posted too but he's being difficult #i'll decide in the next few days how exactly how i want to finish his #and two at a time keeps the number even on the list

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awlimagines · 7 months

Text

A Polaroid Pickup - Rock

You enjoyed the fresh air as a kid. Your father’s farm was full of it if you could look past the natural stench of livestock. Things you didn’t fully understand occurred when you were small, and your mom whisked you away to the city. Now, you were far more used to the harsh yells, massive crowds, and vendors trying to make a sale. You stifled a yawn as you passed your ID card over the sensor to allow you entry to the office building.

It stretched into the sky, reaching for the heavens while swallowing hundreds in neat, bright offices. Those who sat at the top of their companies’ pyramids enjoyed sweeping city views and sunlight. The lowly peons like you got erected cubicles in the building’s belly. The company you worked for was nice enough to allow you to pin pictures into the fabric walls. You had only a few of your mother, an old pet, and an even older boyfriend. You needed to throw away that picture. You didn’t even know the boy pictured alongside you anymore.

You throw your bag under your desk to sink into your seat and swivel to face a black screen and phone. That was when the deck of cards caught your eye. Those weren’t yours. As your manager swept past, you scrambled, sliding the cards haphazardly from your desk to hide them. This was your first job. You wouldn’t risk losing it or having a mark against you for some cards. The cards left all thoughts as the phone began to ring.

It wasn’t until lunch that you remembered the cards. You reached into your bag to pay for the bland cafeteria lunch when your hand brushed the stiff cards instead. Fumbling past them for money, you juggled the tray to pay and hurried to a seat at the packed tables. You squeezed into an empty chair and rapidly shoveled your food down. As people around you left, you pulled the cards from your bag. They looked pretty new. The bent corners were probably from being shoved out of sight rather than from any use. You flipped through the cards, enjoying the stylized kings and queens.

A small Polaroid picture of you replaced the Queen of Hearts. Your blood ran cold at the sight. You were wearing the same clothes you had on now, and you sat in the same cafeteria. Bile rose in your throat as you fought back panic when a man slid into the seat across from you. His dark brown roots bled through his blonde. His blonde hair, tinged with orange, screamed the young man wasn’t experienced with dyes.

“You're a queen. Let my face be your throne,” he remarked, winking a finger-gun at you. You held up the cards and picture, asking the young man if this was from him. He eagerly confirmed it was his idea and asked if you were impressed. You almost felt bad for how quickly the HR department removed him after you reported the harassment. The young man couldn’t have been over twenty and probably just made a horrible decision.

Years later, the company suffered and downsized. You were cut from the job and traveled to Forget-Me-Not Valley. The farm was about all you had left, and you had to make it work. Takakura introduced you to the inn owners who had mentioned their son Rock when a clattering noise on the balcony above caught your attention. You glanced up in time to see the doors snapping shut.

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple,” Rock smirked, shooting you a wink and finger gun as you gathered the fall apples.

“Did you ever work in the city?”

A look of horror swept across Rock’s face as he mumbled about how he didn’t think you had recognized him. Any hint of suave he had disappeared as Rock struggled to explain his past behavior.

“I didn’t. Not until the terrible pick-up line,” you chuckled. “It’s water under the bridge, but I have to know. How did you get a picture of what I wore that day and in the cafeteria?”

“Pfft, that’s easy. You wear the same clothes like clockwork even now,” Rock brushed off, gesturing to your clothes. The blonde ran from your farm laughing as you threw apples after him, your face red.

#story of seasons #harvest moon #story of seasons a wonderful life #sos awl #bokujou monogatari #harvest moon a wonderful life #hm awl #awl imagines #awl rock #awl rock x reader #partially inspired by kinokoshoujoart's glasses day post #it'd be the transition from his awkward school years to mr cool stud #unfortunately his pickup lines never improved

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awlimagines · 7 months

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Snow Scare (Rock's First Kiss)

You frowned in disgust when you first glanced out your window. How is it that it was the beginning of Fall and snow littered the ground? The weather channel said it should melt by the afternoon, and you only hoped the snow didn’t irreparably damage your new crops. Your heart dropped the moment you opened the door. The crops were forgotten as your eyes focused on footprints etched into the crisp snow.

You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves. There were two sets of footprints. One set sank deeply into the thin layer of snow, revealing the ground in patches. The path led from Takakura’s house to the shipping box before circling back to the entrance and leaving the farm. These had to belong to Takakura and his heavy, trudging gait. That explained the least concerning set of tracks.

The other set was smaller. They led from the farm’s entrance to your side window before ending at the barn doors. Who would have reason to peer through your window while you were sleeping? You uneasily made a note to ask Van for thicker curtains. You swallowed, fighting the thudding of your heart in your chest. Should you run for town? You hesitated, considering your poor animals. You couldn’t let them be hurt. Quick steps took you to the edge of your fields to grab the discarded hoe from tilling. Your hands wrapped firmly around the smooth wood before you climbed the fence and paused at the barn doors.

You hoped to catch the trespasser off guard entering from the field. You took one final deep breath before bursting into the barn. Your loud entrance shocked the person, who dove into a pile of hay to hide.

“You can’t hide! I know you’re there!” you yelled, hoping you didn’t sound scared.

“Whoa, whoa! It’s okay, sorry,” Rock poked his head from the straw.

“What are you doing?!” you couldn’t help but scream. The blonde had terrified you. Rock seemed to understand this if his shocked, gaping mouth was anything to judge by.

“Surprise?” he weakly smiled and gestured toward the doors. You leaned the hoe against the wall and walked across the barn to see what he was trying to show you. Hanging on by a single thread above the doors was a bunch of mistletoe.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that?”

“Hey, they say it’s first come, first served!” Rock protested in defense. When he saw your eyebrow quirk, he thought before amending his statement. “Or maybe it was early bird gets the worm. Toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe. The point is that I’m here with the first snowfall, so you should feel grateful.”

“Grateful that you’re not a murderer?”

You fought back laughter as you watched the blonde struggle to explain his intentions. You couldn’t believe more than half a year had gone since you came to the valley. Your life had changed so much in that time, you realized as Rock babbled. You couldn’t agree with Rock’s laid-back and noncommittal views when you could lose everything again. Impulsively, you caught his face between your hands before planting a solid kiss on his lips beneath the mistletoe.

“W-what was that for?”

“You’re the one who hung the mistletoe!” you blushed in response to his red face.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d do it,” Rock mumbled. “That was my first kiss, too. You’re going to have to take responsibility now.”

#story of seasons #harvest moon #story of seasons a wonderful life #sos awl #bokujou monogatari #harvest moon a wonderful life #hm awl #awl imagines #awl rock #awl rock x reader #sorry for my prolonged absence #this is from an October prompt list and ties into the request for first kiss #i'll have something angst driven for cecilia later

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awlimagines · 3 months

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Day Ten - Rock

“Whoa, what’s all this?” Rock laughed.

His jovial smile slipped at the sight of the alligators basking in the winter sun from the confines of their enclosure. Where on earth had you brought him? Rock quickly replaced his apprehension with his usual smile when he saw worry flit across your face.

“You said you wanted to see Santa. I thought this would be the best place,” you explained, shuffling your feet.

What had he gotten himself into? The outdoor store was a hellscape in his mind. Camouflage decked the racks, and an actual fish tank was proudly in the center of the store. Rock struggled to ignore the fish casually swimming as he followed you to the line for Santa. They were much better when they were submerged out of sight in the river or ocean.

The sight of Santa raised his spirits. The man was dressed all in red with a natural beard and a twinkle in his eye. He was already a million times better than Santa of his youth. The lumbering Santa that used to visit the inn when he was a child always looked like Van with a fake beard. He grasped your hand as he eagerly bounced on his feet, drawing nearer to the front of the line.

“After seeing Santa, I thought we could pick you out some fishing gear.”

“Oh,” Rock realized. “This is where I went wrong.”

He watched as you whispered something in Santa’s ear before sharing a laugh with the jolly man. Rock would have been jealous if he wasn’t so stressed trying to figure out how to escape the fishing section (which looked like a solid third of the store). How could he tell you he hated fish and only tagged along to spend time with you?

“And what would you like for Starry Night, young man?” Santa asked.

“Santa! I have a huuuuuge request,” Rock loudly proclaimed as he sat in the big, red man’s lap, arms twining around his neck. “Please don’t put me on the naughty list! I know lying is wrong, but I wanted to spend time with Y/N, so I said I like fishing when I really, really hate fish. I’d like to get a Blue Feather from Y/N for Starry Night instead of a fishing pole.”

The blonde couldn’t fight his massive grin as he hopped off the flustered Santa’s lap over to you. Your face was beet red after his antics. He loved seeing you like this because Rock knew your thoughts were focused only on him. Didn’t they say any attention was good attention after all? Rock certainly thought so as you grabbed his hand and pulled him from the store. He idly tagged along behind you, gazing at brightly colored shops. Rock wondered where you could be headed next. He was getting hungry, so maybe you were taking him to a restaurant?

You dragged him from the sidewalk into one of the city’s many little pocket parks. Rock followed, preparing more jokes to ramble off until you laughed. The blonde flinched back as you whirled on him. He recognized the look on your face well from years of seeing the same one on his parent’s faces: exasperation. This was it. He had finally messed up the one relationship he managed to snag. Where did he mess up, though?

“I wish you had said something before that,” you frowned, still fighting the public embarrassment.

“What?” the confused man blurted out.

“T-that spectacle back there! How could you publicly say stuff like that?”

Rock’s heart dropped. Were you mad? You sounded mad, mad enough not to fall for his devilish charms. Goddess, how could he salvage this? Rock tried the trick he knew best: play dumb and that it was a joke.

“Haha, oh man! I wasn’t serious about all the blue feather stuff. I mean, unless-” Rock desperately scrambled to salvage the situation with a half-hearted chuckle.

You sighed, annoyance gone from your face as it creased with worry instead, “That’s not the problem. Do you like fishing?”

“No- I mean, yes! I-” Rock fumbled for words as his brain absorbed the question. He thought you were focused on the fiasco of him very publicly asking Santa for a proposal from you. This was about the fish? Relieved, Rock babbled out an explanation, “No, I don’t like fishing. They’re slimy and gross and freak me out. I dealt with it because I wanted to spend time with you.”

“I didn’t know you hated fish and took you to a place like that. I have to replan everything for Starry Night now,” you groaned. Rock watched you closely as you fretted over new plans. He couldn’t understand making plans in advance, but you seemed fond of doing so. Honestly, Rock enjoyed seeing you take the time to plan things with him. It made him feel wanted.

“So, does this mean you’re going propose to me?” he asked eagerly, breaking your concentration.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” you blushed at the blonde’s devious grin.

Rock’s heart jumped with joy at the implication. You were going to propose to him? When? A sly smile crossed his face as he whispered in your ear, “You know, as long as we’re getting ahead. I liked that Santa. We should bring our kids here.”

#harvest moon #story of seasons #story of seasons a wonderful life #harvest moon a wonderful life #sos awl #hm awl #bokujou monogatari #awl imagines #awl rock #awl rock x reader #12 days of christmas

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awlimagines · 10 months

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Life is sweeter than honey

I got a black belt in hangin' around

Rock’s biggest dream was never to work. The details of how to accomplish this dream were always fuzzy. Then you came into the picture. He had fun seeing and getting to know you, but with the ramshackle farm you inherited, you didn’t have much more money than him. Unlike him, you gritted your teeth and were out of the red and improving the farm within months. Rock’s biggest ambition during that time was thinking about making a fashion book. Despite the two of you butting heads over ideals of work, you were the only one who supported his idea.

He felt jealous when he overheard his parents trying to talk you towards Matthew rather than him. Rock was more upset by them worrying over you and your health for potentially choosing him with all he lacked. Why Matthew, of all people?! He was a workaholic and wouldn’t help you take a break from responsibilities or brighten your day. You’d both just work forever. What a dreadful existence. He’s happy you agree that he would be a better choice when you follow him out of the inn. The Blue Feather you give him months later has Rock confirming that you know he doesn’t work. You laugh in response, explaining you make enough for both of them. All you want him to do is continue being himself and making your days better.

Everyday summer break

Because she says that she loves me

#story of seasons a wonderful life #story of seasons #song prompt #awl rock #awl rock x reader #harvest moon a wonderful life #harvest moon #bokujou monogatari #rock x reader #sos awl #awl imagines #hm awl #sos rock #Spotify

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awlimagines · 9 months

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Two strangers in an online chat room hit it off. Turns out they’re childhood sweethearts.

This is gonna be long but is completely SFW fluff. I'm just separating into two groups and posting below the cut due to length, not content.

I really liked the prompt and now I plan to do everyone as your childhood sweetheart as well.

The city is a cold place. People kept to themselves and trudged through the press of bodies to follow their own lives. You had tried to make friends, but the relationships fell short. They ended with your working hours, and despite people promising to keep in touch, they disappeared from your life after moving. It was one of the reasons you loved getting online. The chatroom you eagerly logged into had them each day. The mysterious person behind another screen in another place understood you and cared.

Then your life was upended. The company you worked for downsized and fired you. The stiff competition for jobs with failed interviews and unchanging rent quickly drain your funds. Takakura’s letter and invitation to the farm were a beacon in the dark. You explained your plans to move to a rural community and the disconnection of your services for the time. You arrived in Forget-Me-Not Valley apprehensive about starting your life over with the only support you knew gone. You were relieved to see a familiar face, even if it was an old childhood sweetheart. They helped you adjust to your new surroundings. You soon found yourself remembering why you had fallen for them years ago.

You couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when you managed to get your services running once again. The screen revealed unread messages. Your chatroom confidant had asked if you were comfortable sharing where you were moving. You had told them your location in the city, trusting the crowds of people to mask your exact location. But their messages revealed they live in Forget-Me-Not Valley and offered assistance if it was here or Mineral Town you were moving to. You shut everything down in a panic leaving the messages on read. Who could it be? Were you ready to meet them? How would you tell your friend?

CELIA/CECILIA

You went immediately to find Cecilia. As awkward as it might be, she was the one you wanted to confide in about your dilemma. Cecilia was the most thoughtful and sincere person you knew. Any answer she gave would be the best one. You didn’t expect her to be upset when you arrived. Cecilia seemed like she was ready to burst into tears at any moment.

“I can come back later,” you hesitated.

Cecilia softly forced a smile and ushered you in and up to her room. She waved away your inquiries and insisted helping you would make her feel better. It had to be something serious if you came covered in sweat, looking as though you’d seen a ghost in the night. Cecilia sat on her bed, listening as you paced and spilled out what had just happened. How you very desperately wanted to meet this person and all your fears. When you finished, Cecilia’s shocked face dashed your hopes.

“I’m crazy, right? How could I fall for someone online that I’ve never met?”

“Um, was their username FarmingFlowers by any chance?” Cecilia whispered, stopping you in your tracks. How did she know that? You stood with your mouth hanging open as the pieces slowly fell into place.

DARYL

You spent the next day attempting to figure out what you wanted to do. You shouldn’t keep them on read without answering, but it was easier to ignore if you kept the computer off. The sheep you were brushing bleated angrily, annoyed with your constant pestering. With nothing left to keep you busy, a trip to see what experiment Daryl was working on seemed the best distraction.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he was agitated when you arrived at the lab. You opened your mouth to greet him, but he swiftly cut you off. Now wasn’t a good time, he curtly informed you snapping the door shut in your face. It hurt your feelings, but then Daryl had a temper when you were kids. You worried more that he had more work stolen from his lab. You figured you would give him a few days and try again. Maybe by then, you could resolve your problem.

After two days, you knocked on Daryl’s door. It creaked open, but Daryl didn’t appear in the opening. You cautiously opened the door wider to see him sleeping at his desk. Your eyes widened in shock, seeing the inside of his lab. You could make out lines connecting blobs of text on the chalkboard that overflowed to papers taped to the wall connected by yarn. Overcome with curiosity for his new research project - you moved in for a closer look.

Daryl’s usually messy writing was more illegible than usual across the chalkboard. You followed where the majority of threads led to a piece of paper. Scrawled on the paper was your username with circles around it. You would have thought he outgrew overstepping boundaries by this age. You snatched the page from the wall as your face flushed. Filled with embarrassment and anger at him, you shook Daryl awake.

As you heaved in another breath, searching for something else to say, he tapped the paper and asked if that was yours. Once you confirmed it was your username, the tables flipped on you. Daryl launched into how rude it was to keep someone waiting on a response. You clearly had time if you were snooping through his lab. You stood dazed, watching him remove the thread as he lectured.

“W-wait, when did you get all this?” you questioned. You had been home since those messages. You would have known if Daryl was at the farm! He frowned at your confusion before sighing and sitting you down to explain his process for how he knew it was you. He planned on seeing you to speak things over sooner but fell asleep, and then you barged in.

FLORA

You quickly recognized the girl you dragged around on adventures as a kid. Flora seemed content with her job, and her patient nature had to help with the dig site. You were bored within an hour of digging and not finding anything. The mindless digging seemed more welcoming than usual as you puzzled over who Floyd might be. You had always assumed the username was just their name. No one in the valley was named Floyd; could it be someone’s middle name? If so, which of the guys would it be?

Flora interrupted you at noon for a lunch break by the waterfall. She was agitated, you noticed. Did something happen with the creep who was hanging around the campsite? You found it hard to believe that would be the issue when you were Flora could easily beat anyone to smithereens. Flora hesitated before asking your opinion on something that was bothering her. She tucked a blonde flyaway behind her ear and asked what it meant if someone ignored her messages. The person had never done so previously but suddenly did recently, and she wondered if it was something she had done.

That sounded too eerily similar to your predicament. You frowned and asked if Flora could share more details. She shared the exact details of the recent exchange you had with Floyd.

“You’re Floyd?! Why on earth would you choose Floyd for a username?” you proclaimed in shock. Flora jumped slightly at your sudden outburst. The University gave it to her for her email as a combination of her first initial and last name for [email protected]. It seemed the most convenient to use instead of finding something else. Was that wrong?

NAMI

Nami hadn’t always been the quiet, reflective type. You could dimly remember her being a rambunctious tomboy dragging you into trouble. She became more withdrawn once the problems between her parents started. Nami had barely acknowledged when your mom packed you up to move elsewhere. Your letters never received a response, and you eventually just stopped sending them.

You were apprehensive to see her again in the valley but relieved she seemed at peace. The past years of traveling must have done her wonders. She wasn’t the wild child you remembered but remained the excellent listener she had always been. This is how you stumbled into revealing yourself. You were casually telling Nami about some of your challenges at the farm, mostly about one specific sheep who wanted your attention. His headbutts were leaving bruises, and you didn’t know how to make him stop. You didn’t know how to stop when you started spilling the tea about your shock with the chatroom.

“Why wouldn’t you want to meet them if they’ve been so important?” Nami’s question left you speechless. You shrugged your shoulders in response. Nami didn’t need to know that you were worried. You were already pining for the redhead, and the thought of meeting someone else made you nauseous in choosing one of them.

Nami frowned at your sudden silence. You watched as she moved across her room at the inn to open a drawer. She pulled out an old, battered shoebox held together with bright yellow tape telling others to keep out. Nami silently peeled the tape back and dumped the contents on the bed. You were shocked to find the letters you sent yellowed with age and worn. Nami mumbled that she didn’t know how to respond as a kid since you always seemed happy, and she wasn’t. She is glad she could support you through your rough times in the city and would like to continue. If you didn’t mind her being your online friend and you still wanted. Nami looked shocked but not uncomfortable when you enthusiastically wrapped her in a hug. You were beyond relieved she was the one.

ROCK

You waited for lunch the next day before once more opening the messages. Now with a calmer state of mind, you were immediately mad at yourself.

the.BEST.rockest.rock_ had left another message with a sad face and question mark. It was beyond obvious who in the valley your chatroom crush had been. Now you knew why Rock was so down today when you turned down his offers to hang out. You had essentially turned him down twice in less than a day. A finger tapped your mouse as you thought. It would be better to track him down now than wait longer.

You found Rock at the Goddess Spring, observing his face in the reflective water. He had a contemplative frown as he shifted to different angles. Rock’s eyes lit up when he saw you, excitedly asking if you had changed your mind. He looked hesitant and worried when you mentioned needing to talk. You could see the gears turning in his head as you explained the chatroom and apologized for not noticing sooner it was him. A piece of you might have always known or hoped it would be him.

“So, you mean-” Rock started with a huge grin growing on his face. “You’ve fallen for me a total of three different times now? Ha, I knew I was impressive! Don’t worry; I’ll keep your weakness for falling for me a secret!”

The glitter in his golden brown eyes told you the entire valley would know by nightfall.

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awlimagines · 9 months

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SFW - Possessive Reader

MUFFY/MOLLY

You accompanied Molly to one of her friend’s weddings in the city. The day went great! Molly was thrilled to show you off along with the bouquet she caught. Afterward, the two of you left the venue for some time alone. Molly picked a little bar hidden in a corner of the city. It had rave reviews about dueling pianos on weekends. A great day until you turned from picking up your drink orders from the bar. You all but shoved through the crowd to hastily sit and link your arm with Molly’s at the table.

“Um… hi?” Molly giggled. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“…That girl over there keeps staring at you,” you seethed, glaring daggers at a girl a few tables over. You typically supported people wearing whatever they felt, but not this time. This girl’s skimpy black and sequinned outfit screamed for attention. Your arm tightened around Molly’s as her green eyes scanned the bar for who you meant. They all had their chances before Molly moved to the valley and you two started dating. It wasn’t your fault this girl was too late.

“Oh, her outfit is so cute! I love it! Where do you think she got it from?” You swore you had whiplash from how quickly your head whipped back to Molly. “Wow, it’s not like you to get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” you protested, painfully aware of the flush displaying your lie. It wasn’t your fault. Molly was the sweetest person you knew. You couldn’t risk her seeing that you were nowhere near her league. Molly’s lips tweaked up in a smile as she watched you.

“You’re so cute,” she teased, pinching your cheek. “You know I only have eyes for you, right? That I’m so in love with you it hurts?”

Her sly smile and sparkling emerald eyes turned you brighter than a tomato. Molly’s smile as she sipped her drink told you she knew she had you wrapped around her finger.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, glad the girl had at least averted her attention elsewhere from Molly.

ROCK

“Aw, babe, c’mon! It’ll be the perfect start to the summer!” Rock shamelessly begged.

You hadn’t even been married a month, and all of his buddies were getting together to meet. Rock promised all sorts of activities and fun as he told you about his friends. He was especially excited for you to meet his best friend, Jack. They used to be thick as thieves, and Rock couldn’t get through a story about them without laughing. How could you tell him no when he was this excited? What did you have to be apprehensive over? Jack was what you had to be worried over. Her body was perfectly toned and tanned as she embraced Rock.

Your emotions were stretched thin and ready to snap within days. Rock and Jack quickly fell into whatever rhythm they had before he left. You tried to ignore the voice whispering how much better she was and focus on the trip. It was hard when they kept sharing little jokes you didn’t understand. His eyes glanced her way as you tipped again from the surfboard he was trying to teach you how to use.

“I’m done! Just go surf with her,” you snapped, struggling from the salt water.

“Are you jealous?” he teased, paddling alongside you.

“No, I’m not!” you hissed, trying to ignore the tears stinging your eyes.

“Oh, you really are jealous!” His eyes were larger than dinner plates at the realization. Rock quickly slipped from his board to try and catch you. “Wait, why would you be jealous?”

This dense idiot made you so mad sometimes! You didn’t have much competition in the valley with how small it was. It helped that Rock treated most of his interactions with Lumina like she was a little sister too. But here?! Here was gorgeous Jack. She could do everything flawlessly and had all these memories with Rock. You hated this made you mad enough to cry as you all but unleashed your pent-up frustration at Rock.

“Whoa, hey. I never cared for Jack like that,” Rock reassured. He had scuttled out of the water trying to quell your fury.

“You’re the only one I’m putting work towards,” he blurted out. Rock looked relieved when you softened slightly at his words.

“I mean, nothing else besides you is worth the effort. Do you expect me to do any other labor in life?” his goofy smile you liked fixed on his face. You could see his gold eyes swim with worry beneath the bravado.

“You’re right; I should have known,” you relented. Rock waved off Jack’s calls back to the water and focused instead on showing you how to build the perfect sand castle.

#story of seasons #harvest moon #story of seasons a wonderful life #bokujou monogatari #harvest moon a wonderful life #hm awl #sos awl #awl imagines #hm muffy #sos molly #muffy x reader #awl molly x reader #awl molly #awl rock #awl rock x reader

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awlimagines · 9 months

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The Phantom of Forget-Me-Not Valley

ROCK x READER x GUSTAFA

You found yourself torn between the two men in the tiny country town.

On the one hand, the fun and fashionable Rock. You remember playing with him as children when you visited your Father’s farm. He had once plunged into the winter ocean to save your scarf. You had failed to tie it properly, and the gusting wind carried it off, leading you to cry. Rock had only laughed and said it seemed like fun when his parents chastised him, doing his best even then to brush off being remotely responsible. When you go to visit and apologize, Rock grinned and said his cold was great! So long as he was sick, his parents wouldn’t nag him about chores. You should throw more things around in Winter for him to fetch. Rock and you naturally drifted apart when you stopped visiting the farm and focused on city life instead.

On the other hand, the relaxed and calm musician Gustafa. A man who wasn’t meant to be permanent and traveled. He’d share tidbits of his travel with an enigmatic smile, leaving you craving more. In addition, Gustafa was a musical genius who could play any song on any instrument. You fell for him when you sang a line or two before stopping in embarrassment. You had never been a great singer. Gustafa was the first to compliment your voice, and when you blushed, brushing him off, offered singing lessons if you’d be interested. His voice entranced you; it was like the voice of an angel of music rather than a mere man.

While Gustafa seemed detached from everyone and had no solid opinions on anyone, Rock did not like Gustafa in the least and made it well known. He wasn’t great looking, and the lessons took as much time as your farmwork. When were you supposed to have fun with him? Rock wanted to catch up with you where he had been in the past years. He looked like a kicked puppy, tugging at your heart until you agreed that skipping one day shouldn’t hurt. Rock’s spirits immediately lifted as he dragged you to the beach to play. He said you look best when you’re laughing, and Gustafa was too much of a stick in the mud to make you giggle.

When you found Gustafa the next day near the waterfall, he was frowning slightly. He calmly asked if everything was okay, it wasn’t like you to miss lessons. You felt guilty and confessed Rock had convinced you to play hooky with him. Gustafa’s fingers on the lute’s strings halted as you rushed into an apology and promised to let him know if anything came up again. Gustafa sighed, explaining you could do what you wanted; he didn’t mean to monopolize your time. He would just like you to think carefully before going off mindlessly. Rock had no ambition and was looking at either his parents or a spouse supporting his carefree lifestyle. You were naturally talented at everything he had seen you try; Rock might set you back if you let him.

“How am I ever meant to choose between them?” you wondered, staring at the blue feather on your nightstand.

#story of seasons #harvest moon #story of seasons a wonderful life #harvest moon a wonderful life #bokujou monogatari #sos awl #hm awl #awl imagines #awl gustafa #gustafa #gustafa x reader #awl rock #hm rock #rock x reader #awl rock x reader #vanilla snippet based on Phantom of the Opera's plot #it's the storyline overall so no specific song link #you should listen to either Michael Crawford or Ramin Karimloo #they're my favorite phantoms

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awlimagines · 10 months

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How they respond to hearing you have a crush on them.

CELIA/CECILIA

Cecilia overhears Marlin grumbling to Vesta one morning about you. Though she knows it's wrong, she pauses on the stairs to listen in. He is complaining about how obvious you are in having a crush on Ceci. Marlin doesn’t think you’re a good fit for her. You distract her from work and aren’t good enough with nothing but a run-down farm to your name. Vesta laughs and says she likes your sincerity and determination. She thinks you’d be a perfect fit for Cecilia with how much progress you made on the farm in such a short time. Ceci’s face flushes at the thought; it feels like an impossible dream to think you would like her. Why would you choose her? You were close with the glamorous, outgoing Molly and accomplished young Lumina. Not to mention the last time you met, Cecilia had unloaded about an arranged marriage and her misgivings. The next time you see Cecilia, she seems hesitant to speak with you and avoids meeting your eyes. Cecilia nervously laughs when you ask what’s wrong and confesses what she overheard this morning between Marlin and Vesta. You confirm that you do have feelings for her. You were doing your best to be discreet since Cecilia had the arranged marriage date coming up, and you wanted the best for her. She quickly assures you that she has the same feelings and would always choose you over anyone else.

CODY/GORDY

Gordy is surprised when Gustafa lets slip you have a crush on him. Gustafa quickly backtracks and asks that Gordy doesn’t let you know. He was told the secret in confidence, but Gustafa thought Gordy and you would be great together. Gordy gives the thought serious consideration over the next couple of days. His work has always consumed his mind rather than love. As he worked on sorting through his feelings on this information, Gordy naturally became more attentive to observing you when you spoke with him. You didn’t seem unaware of this new focus. You blushed as the large man’s purple eyes bore into your own. Gordy realizes he has had more inspiration and motivation since you arrived in the valley. The sculpture outside his house is improving as Gordy spends time with you, and he enjoys your moments together. Is this the love that Gustafa sings about? Gordy decides to explore where these feelings lead. He starts to prolong conversations with you when he sees you. Gordy doesn’t want to rush through his feelings for you, so he can one day express them adequately with his art.

DARYL

He overhears Rock complaining to Lumina about why anyone, especially you, would have a crush on Daryl. He just doesn’t get it. Daryl had heard the term throughout his school years but never paid it much thought. He couldn’t understand why people were so wrapped in liking someone and made a note to research a ‘crush’ in more detail at the lab. A crush was a bit more than just liking someone Daryl discovered. Instead, it is an intense and usually passive infatuation. All valuable and reliable information ended with the dictionary’s definition. Daryl’s interest peeked. He wasted no time in confronting you about your crush and that he wished to observe the physiological systems at play. You blinked in surprise, shocked by the sudden request but agreed. He quickly identified that blushing and sweaty hands occurred alongside dilated pupils. You had an increased heart rate, but he could not get an accurate baseline read as it spiked each time he tried. Daryl noticed you tripped over your words with him and not with others in the valley. Daryl only needed to discover why his lab felt warmer and his stomach tight when you were around.

FLORA

Flora is flattered when she hears you have a crush on her. She had never given much thought to matters of infatuation or love. Flora likes the idea of one day getting married and having children, but her career seemed more pressing after school. Your crush helped explain how you made so much time to help at the site with a farm to run. Flora spends a few weeks working through her feelings. The last thing she wants to do is act rashly on impulse. She is uncertain if she feels love or infatuation for you. Flora enjoys your company. She wonders where you are and if you’re okay when you are late or don’t arrive at the dig site. Could this be the start of affection? She had many crushes of her own when she was a young girl. They seemed so long ago Flora wasn’t sure of her feelings, and all the pondering hadn’t helped. She would like to focus on you and see what caused her indecision. Flora soon invites you to dinner at the cafe to spend time together outside work.

GUSTAFA

You were sitting by his yurt, humming along to the chords Gustafa strummed. You reflected on how close you had gotten to Gustafa. You never expected it from the brief pointing out Takakura did. After all, Gustafa was a traveling musician. Who knew how long he would stick around here? His playing felt so relaxing to stop and listen to as you struggled. The melodies he played were like a spell to lift your troubles for snatches of time before resuming your responsibilities once more.

“What’d you think?” Gustafa’s voice roused you from thought.

“I like you.”

You watched his eyebrows shoot up in surprise from behind his glasses as you froze in wide-eyed horror. That was not what you meant to say. Mortified, you hurriedly tried to explain. You had a sinking feeling as he tugged the wide brim of his pointed hat down to hide his face further. Gustafa softly explained that your confession made things easier for him. He’s had a crush on you for a while but was worried about you not feeling the same. Gustafa asked if you’d like to meet with him for a drink at the bar that evening.

LUMINA

Lumina felt frustrated when she discovered you had a crush on her. She was obvious in dropping hints of her crush on you. At least, she thought she had been. How could she make it more clear? Lumina was scared to confess. What if she was wrong and you only thought of her as a friend? Or worse, like a sister. No, she would much rather you confess first. It needed to be before Aunt Romana found out you were who she was pining for and got involved. But how? Lumina’s eyes widened as she had a brilliant idea. You said something interesting the other day that could help move things along. The next time you came by, Lumina mentioned she had been thinking of how you didn’t know how to play an instrument. It was one of the reasons you liked to listen to her play. Lumina gazed off to the side and shuffled her feet as she offered to teach you. She was thrilled when you enthusiastically agreed to lessons. Lumina found chances to ‘accidentally’ brush hands or correct your placement as you sat squeezed together on the piano bench. Each of your blushes felt like she was inching closer to one of you admitting your feelings.

MARLIN/MATTHEW

Marlin returns to the house after speaking to you about Cecilia turning into Vesta in his most recent dream. Ceci greets him at the door with a huge grin and a sparkle in her eyes. Marlin froze in shock as she asked what you talked about. He mumbled something about hybrid crops. Marlin had barely told you and certainly didn’t want to share his dream with either of them. Cecilia let out a disappointed sigh in response. She was so sure you had confessed. Nonplussed, Marlin asked what she was talking about. Vesta says it's because you obviously like him a great deal when Ceci hesitates to answer. He grumbles that they must be mistaken; you’re that nice to everyone. His sister shakes her head, telling him he should watch you closer if he thinks that. Marlin watches you more as you pass by their farm. He doesn’t see anything different at all as you wave towards them. Marlin headed to the cafe with his hands shoved in his pockets. He had foolishly gotten his hopes up listening to Cecilia and Vesta. Marlin hoped a drink would help. He didn’t expect to see you selling from a stall. It stung to see you smile at Gordy as you passed over some flowers. He was about to turn and leave when your eyes met. Your radiant smile when you met his eyes made him realize Vesta was right. You didn’t give a smile like that to everyone.

MUFFY/MOLLY

She’s heard this before about prior guys, and nothing ever came of it. So, Molly does her best not to get her hopes up. She will not confront you but continues to act the same as before. Molly’s teasing and flirting are not limited to you as Molly continues the occasional date with city boys. She comes to you for support and a shoulder to cry on with each disastrous result. Eventually, you’re frustrated enough to tell her to stop. Molly shouldn’t keep entertaining guys that aren’t good enough for her. YOU like her and have for a while now and would treat her like the goddess she is. You avoid looking at Molly while trying to get your blush under control from such a confession. When the silence drags on, you peek at Molly to see her reaction. The tears in her green eyes cause you to panic as you fumble to comfort her and apologize. Molly brushes you off as she smiles through her tears. She was just surprised you had such strong feelings for her. Molly was scared to get her hopes up, but to hear you confess made her so happy she couldn’t stop the tears of relief. Her eyes crinkle with a giant smile as you promise this is the first and last time you’ll make her cry.

NAMI

Nami realizes she has a crush on you long before she finds out it goes both ways. At first, Nami couldn’t figure out her feelings. She traveled around so much that she didn’t usually make close connections with others. The valley had been different, and she’d stayed too long to leave at this point. Nami should have left the first day you arrived. She was proud of how great she had hidden her growing feelings or thought she was. Nami felt a bit disappointed when you left to continue your day. After watching her parents' relationship fall apart as a child, she had trouble trusting there were good ones. Galen and Nina had shown her that love could easily carry on for years. Nami wanted that. However, each time she thought to confess, her doubts would overwhelm her. When you admitted your feelings, Nami felt she could be honest too.

ROCK

“Are you sure you’re not tired? You’ve been running through my-”

“Yeah, I am tired. Your dog is such a sore loser when he loses races to me. I’m glad someone understands how taxing that is.” Rock cut off your cheesy pickup line rattling about his day on your farm. You thought this would be the easiest way to say you liked him. You could brush it off as a joke at the worst. You never expected he would interrupt you before you could finish. At least he was happy you sympathized with him, so it wasn’t a complete miss.

“Do you know CPR? Because-”

“Nah, Dr. Baddoch tried to tell me, but it seemed like a lot to remember. And he said you’d have to do compressions until a professional arrived. Do you know how far off he lives? I think it’s better left to someone else.”

Rock was driving you to frustration. Was he being this difficult on purpose? You seriously doubted it, but he foiled each pickup line.

“I bet you dinner that-”

“Dinner sounds great. We can skip the bet and just to you winning. What did you plan on-” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. If he wouldn’t stay quiet, then you’d make sure he found out another way.

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