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moonchildstyles · 1 month

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pleasing

y/n is harry's best friend and she'd never received a valentine's present like this one before.

wordcount: 9.5k+

—————

Just as she finished patting in her skincare for the night, (Y/N)'s phone vibrated for where she had it plugged in, in her bedroom. There was only one person that would be calling her this late at night.

Dismissing the products she had scattered on her bathroom counter, she rushed back into her room. Upon the screen was a blurry, distorted picture of her best friend with his hair on top of his head in different spikes, thanks for a heaping of sticky hair gel and free time during a snowstorm. His name was plastered across the top, the peapod emoji right next to it. She didn't hesitate before she answered the call.

"Harry?" she sang after pressing her phone to her ear.

"Hey, are you busy?"

"I'm just getting ready for bed. Why?"

"Can I FaceTime you?"

She barely had time to give a yes before the call switched to a FaceTime in her hand, her screen lighting up a beat later. In front of her was the top half of his face, revealing only his eyes and up. His hair was pulled back with a claw clip, the angle showing off the length of his lashes and the furrow of his brow.

(Y/N) could see herself in the small box in the corner of the screen, showing off a rather similar angle to what he was giving, though she thought hers was much less flattering somehow.

"Hello?"

The furrow in her best friend's brow decreased at the sound of her voice, giving away the smile that was spreading across his lips even if she couldn't see it on screen.

"Can y'see me?" he asked, his voice sounding muffled and far away.

"Yes, but I can barely hear you. Are you covering your speakers?"

Her world went askew as Harry shuffled his phone in his hand, his mouth set in a comical frown for a glimpse before he righted his grip and was back with the half view of his face. "Sorry, can y'hear me now?"

She hummed a confirmation, smiling to the camera. "What did you want to show me?"

Harry's cheeks lifted, giving away the hint of a dimple in the corner of the frame. "I have new samples."

A gasp fell from (Y/N) lips, excitement filling her. "For the collection?! Or different ones?"

"For the collection."

Her excitement only rose at the new information. "Let me see!" she bubbled, eagerly curling up on her bed, ready to spend the next hour poring over the new development with Harry.

After a small struggle and a lagging view of Harry's face, the camera suddenly turned to show a view of prototype nail polish bottles and first prints of shimmery nail stickers laid out on his black bedding.

Even in the low light of his room, (Y/N) could see flecks of glitter in a few of the polishes, the stickers glimmering in the shapes of hearts and flowers. The colors themselves ranged from quiet pastels to vivid brights, some left creamy, others containing barely-there shimmers, and the remainders boasting chunky bright glitters. The collection was large, containing two sets of polishes: one set was full of delicate pastels ranging in the pink family, with the other championing rich, clinging colors. The first iterations of the polish packaging came with the iconic spheres on the tops of the bottles, though this collection featured watercolor petals draped over the shape, leaving the illusion of flowers encased in the bottle all in the same color as the polish inside.

"What do you think?"

(Y/N) was sure he could see the wide set to her eyes, the way she was practically fawning over them already. "H, I love it! This is for the Valentine's collection, right?"

"Something like that, yeah," he answered, his smile evident in his voice, "I figured y'liked the pink ones."

"I do," she chirped, bringing her phone closer as if she could gain a clearer look of each shade that way. "Put your phone closer, I want to see the colors and the stickers better."

Harry did just that without hesitation, bringing his phone to his bed, though he went a step further and picked up the stickers to show off in front of the camera.

Gasping, (Y/N)'s brows bounced over her eyes when she took in the sticker sheet.

"Harry."

"What?"

"Are those bows?!"

He only laughed.

—————

"Goodnight, (Y/N). I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Talk to you tomorrow, H," (Y/N) yawned, unabashedly showing off a downturned angle of the moment while Harry watched on. "Let me know if you want to get dinner later this week. Love you."

His heart squeezed in his chest at her casual declaration. "Love you, too."

With that, the video of her sleepy face disappeared, showing only the simple photo he had saved to his lockscreen. Harry's gaze lingered on the empty space for a heartbeat, just a split second away from calling her back despite the late hour and the fact she'd been half asleep before he'd suggested she head to bed. He forced himself to lock his phone and set it on his bedside table, keeping it out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

Still spread out on his bed, where he had sprawled out his limbs and grew comfortable amongst the bedding, were the new Pleasing products he had been so eager to show off. Everything was still in the test package, nothing completely finalized or one hundred percent polished just yet, but he'd been too excited. He'd shared the concept with (Y/N) ages ago, right after he'd made it out of a meeting with Harry Lambert and Molly, unable to keep the secret under wraps—especially when he found his own inspiration for the collection.

(Y/N).

It had been Molly's idea to unveil a Valentine's themed collection after the small set of apparel that would be released around his birthday, hoping to tap into another facet of him that was so beloved to the public. She had in mind something that would commemorate the love songs he was so famous for; the kind of sweetheart, love-sick energy that he often utilized to make his most memorable lyrics and showcased on stage.

As she had gone on, sharing what kind of feeling she wanted to invoke for the season's rollout, Harry was only thinking of his own inspiration.

It was the same thing that inspired his music, his attitude, his want to improve and be more and more than he started as.

His best friend.

He saw his own idea for the collection coming in flashes of her favorite colors, the shade of the dress she wore to his birthday party, the hue of her eyes, the colors that falling in love with her made him see in the world. He could see her with her fingernails proudly painted in his brand, the way she always did when Pleasing made something new just so she could support him. There were already prototypes of new apparel, manicure stickers, and campaign designs forming in his head.

Harry had come away from that meeting with plenty of ideas to think on, and lyrics forming that he hoped he wouldn't forget before he had a chance to write them down.

Months later, he had enough ideas for more than one micro-collection. Each one had been passed by Molly and Harry Lambert—both being excited and surprised that there was so much to be used and saved for later collections—leaving with a duo of aesthetics they planned on basing the campaign around.

That was what he had shown (Y/N) tonight, and was now spread across his bedspread as he tried to calm down his winding heart after their late night call. He kept seeing her face when she spotted the romantic set that was directly inspired by her, the way her eyes lit up when she took in the shades of pink and the shimmery accents. That had been the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he received the initial samples.

Collecting each piece, he took his time pulling each bottle, rolling them in his hands with bubbles floating through the polish. He wondered if (Y/N) would catch the connections when he revealed the names to her. He wondered if she would know that he named this shimmery soft pink Woman with her in mind, including inspiration from a song he penned that now was soaked in her memory. The buttery yellow with golden reflects dubbed Home, would she know that was based on the golden dress she wore the first time she saw him on tour? The rich, creamy red he'd called Feast, he hoped she'd see the lipstick she wore the first time they met in the shade.

He lingered over the bottles, all eight shades invoking a specific memory that went into the creation. Carefully replacing them in the drawer with the rest of his Pleasing pieces, ensuring nothing clinked together too hard with the sticker bundle staying together, he allowed himself a moment with the full collection under the bright light of his bathroom. It was near perfect, seeing it all together. All that was left to sample was the apparel that had been drafted up a few weeks prior with Harry Lambert's guidance, and the extra accessories they were debating on adding in the collection.

He had a feeling (Y/N) would fight to take the samples from him. The idea had a small smile spreading on his lips by the time he was flicking his bathroom light off and padding back to his room.

By the time Harry bundled himself in his bedding, his phone settled away in his bedside table, he shuttered his eyes though he could still see the ghost of (Y/N)'s excited face on the inside of his eyelids. Just as much as he hoped she would notice the names of the polishes, catch the fact that the stickers were an ode to her, the apparel made with her form in mind, scents formulated to sweep over her skin, he feared she wouldn't notice in the same way she'd never noticed him in the way he wanted.

Did she remember the yellow dress she wore to the first live show she could make it to? (Y/N) barely ever wore lipstick these days, did she even have that tube of red anymore? Did she ever listen to Woman and hear the words he was too scared to say to her every time she introduced him to a new boyfriend?

The idea needled at the center of his chest just as it always had when he was reminded that he was years into an infatuation that had no sign of ending either from sweet reciprocation or his heart moving on.

Nonetheless, he thought, grasping at positivity as always, he was going to revel in the reactions she gave him as if it were for himself. Those delicate compliments and the joyous excitement, he would hold tight as if they were for who he was and not something that he made.

And, probably try to convince her to be a part of the product shoot.

—————

i'm here !! 🍣🍣

(Y/N) pocketed her phone as she approached the small gate surrounding Harry's home, the concrete divider and plethora of greenery giving privacy to the space. The bag of takeaway sushi hung at her side, the hood of her coat lifted over her head in case there was anyone around hoping to spot a glimpse of Harry's personal life and spin whatever tale.

She didn't have to check if her text went through, having to wait only a moment before she heard him make his way from his front door and going through the protective greenery. "(Y/N)," he sang through the trees, the syllables of her name sifting through the plants.

"Harry," she reciprocated, a smile spreading across her lips at the familiar greeting.

Swinging open the gate, Harry welcomed her in with his hair held back in a familiar flower clip and dimples thumbed into his cheeks. She quickly stepped over the threshold, heading towards his porch while he locked the gate behind her. Only a beat after the click of the lock sounded, he fell into step beside her, hooking an arm around her shoulders.

"Hi," he smiled, dimples clear on his cheeks as he gazed down at her.

"Hi," she answered, her own features curling and softening. Feeling his eyes on her face, she took on the responsibility of guiding them towards the front door without stumbling through his garden. "Sorry I'm late. The sushi place was packed for some reason today."

"Yeah?" he sounded, voice decidedly softer than just a beat before, "'M sorry. I would have gone if I'd known it would be that busy."

"It's alright," she told him, leading them through his front door to which he dropped his arm from around her to instead shut and lock the door, "I just figured it wouldn't be so bad since they just opened, but everyone else probably had the same idea."

Placing the takeaway bag on the coffee table, (Y/N) shed her jacket and the knitted beanie covering her head. She had another question on her lips as she turned to face Harry once more, though that line died once she took in his outfit for the day.

"What are you wearing?"

A small smile spread over his lips at her words though he didn't offer his own response.

His legs were covered in athletic joggers, the same heather green ones he always seems to be wearing lately, but that wasn't what caught her attention. Draped over his torso was a delicately pink crewneck, thick and warm, with Pleasing scripted across the center of the chest in a mauve shimmer.

"That's new, isn't it?" she prodded, stepping towards him with her eyes on the shimmering puff print on the crewneck. He had mentioned something about adding apparel to the polish collection she'd been shown last week, but he didn't offer any specific details.

"Maybe," he teased, "Do you like it?"

Reaching his arms out, he let her see the full piece, including the glittery stitching that ran through the garment and drew her eyes along his form. She stepped towards him, running a finger along the seam at the cuff of the sleeve.

"I love it," she smiled, "I didn't know you were making these."

"I know—I wanted it to be a surprise," he told her, his arm flexing under her fingertip before dropping back to his side with his hands sliding into his pockets, "I know you've been wanting a pink one since the first set came out, so I thought it was finally time."

"For Valentine's Day?" she bubbled, thinking back to the samples he'd shown off to her the week before.

Something flashed over his eyes as they dropped from hers, taking in the rest of her features. "Something like that, yeah."

"Do you have any more?" Before he even answered, she couldn't help herself but to start edging towards the stairs bordering the wall behind her.

A plume of laughter fell from Harry's lips, catching her with his palm landing on her arms before she could scurry away. "No," he drawled as he pulled her back towards him, "But, you can have this one if y'want."

"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes wide as she fixed her gaze on him, hands on his chest over the puff print of the lettering. "I don't want to take it if this is the only one you're testing right now."

Harry shrugged her off, his hands on her arms sliding down in a lingering drag before they finally fell back to his sides. "'S alright. No one knows yet, anyway."

Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his to peruse over the glimmering neckline of the crewneck. "I don't want you to get it in trouble, though, if you give it away."

He scrunched his features, shaking his head as if what she said was completely incredulous. "(Y/N), I made it for you."

His words were cemented as he began pulling the piece off completely, leaving him in only the vintage shirt he'd had on underneath, the print faded and unfamiliar. He shoved the garment in her arms, a waft of his scent enveloping her.

(Y/N) hesitated for long enough that Harry had to have noticed, prompting him to set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Really, lovie. 'S alright. I don't want y'to have to wait to get your own."

Relenting, she fell into his chest, Harry wrapping his arms around her with a laugh rumbling his chest under her cheek. "Thanks, H. I promise I won't wear it out or anything until you announce it, though."

She could feel him smile when he buried his nose into her hair, his arms pulsing around her a snug embrace.

For a brief moment, (Y/N) let her eyes close as she sunk into his arms. The fragrance of his washing detergent and the lingering scent of his cologne that had sunk into every fiber of his home washed over her. There were times she could see her friendship with Harry moving into territory she'd been too fearful to even explore in her imagination, but feeling his embrace and the words I made it for you ringing in her ears, she could be coaxed to imagine a lot of things with him.

Before she could run too far away in her head, she drew away with a bright smile, hoping he didn't catch the warmth under her skin.

"We need to eat before our soup gets cold," she told him, stepping towards the couch with her new crewneck in her arms.

Harry followed after her, becoming a warm shadow as he took his seat next to her. It wasn't until all of the containers were distributed out from the bag, and (Y/N)'s new sweatshirt was folded carefully at her side that he peeked at her from where he was stirring his miso soup.

"I do have one condition with the crewneck," he murmured, taking a spoonful of tofu and seaweed. (Y/N), her own mouth full with a wonton, raised her brow in response. Taking his time to swallow, his words hanging in the air for a beat, Harry finally followed up with, "We might need an extra model for the Valentine's campaign."

"Okay," (Y/N) mumbled, a furrow pinching at her brows. "Do you need me to ask someone? I think I still have a couple of numbers of some of the people from your music videos if you want me to reach out."

A sheepish smile touched at the corners of Harry's lips. "No, I mean... Would you want to be a model? The shoots in a few weeks, so."

Pushing her chopsticks against the wontons floating in her soup, (Y/N) wasn't sure how to respond. "H, you know I'm not a model or anything—like, you remember that, right?"

He laughed at her remark. "Yes, I remember. This one's going to be really special, though, and a lot of fun. I want you to be in it—if you're comfortable."

She mulled over his words, rolling the short I want you around her head. "And this is a condition of taking the crewneck home with me today?"

A single dimple touched his cheek. "Something like that," he tilted his head, stirring his miso soup into a slow vortex, "I am doing you a favor, aren't I?"

She nudged his shoulder with her own, rolling her eyes. "You said it was made for me, how is it a favor to give it to me?" she teased, only shaking her head when he laughed at her.

A beat passed before Harry returned his eyes to her, his features softened and warm. "Really, it would mean a lot to me if y'were a part of this shoot. At least think about it?"

"I can do that," she compromised, seeing her best friend in front of her even if his words touched a separate part of her shoved into a box in the back of her mind, "I'll think about it, and let you know."

It was the way that his smile bloomed across his features, something bright unfurling in his eyes that (Y/N) was sure she already had her decision pocketed away.

—————

As Molly stood in front of the slew of models and talent sitting in wait for the day, Harry stood behind her as if to read the agenda in her hands even if all he really did was sweep his eyes towards (Y/N) standing at the end of the line.

"First up is the pink side of the campaign," Molly read off, presenting the information with a smile while others ran around behind her setting up for the double shoot that would be happening, "Nail techs will be coming around to make sure everyone has something on their nails—remember which group you're in so we get the correct colors on your nails. Hair and makeup will follow afterwards..."

There was more Molly was saying, the outline of the day being extra exhausting given there were two different aesthetics being achieved today, but Harry was much more focused on the extra model at the shoot.

Truly, he hadn't thought (Y/N) would accept. He knew it was much for her to be in front of a camera like this, seeing as his own need for privacy definitely had rubbed off on her, so he hadn't been surprised that she had lagged on her response for a week. It was when she had called asking about details of the shoot, wanting to know about the times and location, and just how long they would be needed on set, all followed up with a chirped I'll be there! that had surprised him. It wasn't until that call that he planned on being on set all day, having previously only meant to pop by for a few hours before leaving everyone to get the real work done without him being in the way. That was how he ended up here right at eight a.m., hair back in a pink flower clip (another accessory for the collection), and his eyes searching for (Y/N).

"Okay, everyone go pick a station and someone from hair and makeup will come help as soon as they can!" Molly dismissed everyone with a smile before turning on her heel and looking around for Harry Lambert.

Harry stood back with the sets coming together behind him as he watched the line of models scatter towards the lit up tables. There was only one that strayed behind, hands in a bundle at her waist with her wide eyes immediately fixing to him. He didn't hesitate before he stepped towards (Y/N), reaching out to her until his arm was slung over her shoulders.

"Y'alright?" he murmured to her, voice low compared to the bustle happening around the set.

"Yeah," she sighed, scanning her gaze along for the last open station, "It's just weird being on set like this when I'm not just here to watch. I don't want to mess anything up."

He shrugged his shoulders, his arm scrunching around her as he tipped his head. "You're probably going to, but 'm sure Molly or someone will be able to fix it."

It wasn't until she looked up at him with her mouth a gape and an accusatory light in her eyes that he broke with his laughter. His shrug became a comforting hug as he held her to his side. "'M kidding, lovie. You're going to be jus' fine—we're gonna take care of you, don't worry."

Harry pulled out the chair to the vanity for her, catching her reflection in the mirror. There was a part of him that, while he watched her, wanted to grab a camera and get his own shots for the campaign. There was nothing more romantic—in the Valentine's spirit—than the quiet moments with a partner; the moments that made it clear they were a team.

He was tugged out of his head when he heard her speak up. "Are you going to be hanging around for the shoot today then? Or are you going home soon?"

"I'll be here all day," he decided then, setting his hands on the back of her chair as they met eyes in the mirror.

Her gaze brightened, seemingly reflecting back the lights ringing the mirror. "Are you going to be in any of the pictures?"

It was the bubbling of her voice, the way she beamed at him that had his own lips curling into a small smile. "Maybe."

It wouldn't be hard to convince his team to let him sneak in a couple of shots. His nails were already done up anyway.

Before (Y/N) could say much more, one of the three nail techs flittered to her station. Familiar bottles of polish were tucked away in her apron, the pink bottles being placed out on the vanity as she offered (Y/N) a bright smile.

"Hi," she greeted, eyes landing on Harry for a split second before bouncing away just as quickly. "I'm Mari, I'll be doing your nails this morning. How are you?"

"I'm (Y/N). I'm doing good, thank you," she chirped, her voice decidedly higher and sweeter than when she had been speaking with Harry a moment before. He nudged her shoulder just a bit, a silent tease. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you for asking," Mari said, carefully looking at Harry through the fan of her lashes, "And you, Mr. Styles?"

"I'm good, thank you," he offered, his voice low with a pleasant smile given to Mari. He could spot the small ticks that gave away just how aware she was of him, he didn't want to make her any more nervous. "I appreciate your help today, Mari. I've seen some of your work, and 'm really excited to see what you can do for us."

Mari's tan cheeks heated with a small blush bubbling underneath, faint under her skin. "Of course. Thank you for the opportunity—really."

Harry's smile only spread wider when he felt (Y/N) nudge against his hand, her own quiet tease over his dazzling interaction.

Before she could fluster much more, with all of her supplies spread out on the vanity table, Mari concentrated on (Y/N) once more. "Do you remember which group you were in today, (Y/N)?"

"I'm actually in both groups today, but I think I'm a part of the pink shoot first," (Y/N) smiled, tilting her chin upwards to peek at Harry upside down, "Right?"

"Right," Harry affirmed. It was a lot he was putting on her plate, being in both sides of the campaign, he knew that. But, just as he had told her when he laid out the details, it meant a lot to him to see her in both aesthetics. She was the face of the collection in his mind, he couldn't imagine her not pictured in every iteration.

"Long day," Mari muttered, her features school back into a pleasant expression. She plucked her fingers through the bottles, skating over the set of pink varnishes first. "Do you have a preference for what color we use today?"

At this, (Y/N) looked to Harry once more. "Do you? I'm okay with any of them, but is there something you want me to have for the pictures, or anything?"

Instinctively, Harry looked to the creamy baby pink shade embedded with opal flecks. He nodded towards the bottle, "That one if that's alright."

"This one?" Mari clarified, picking up the bottle he had in mind.

"Yes, please," Harry smiled, looking towards (Y/N) with his raised brows to which she gave him a small giddy nod. "And some of the stickers if y'have them."

A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips. He knew she would like that detail.

"Sounds perfect," Mari bleated, asking for one of (Y/N)'s hands before she started prepping for the manicure.

With her on hand free, (Y/N) reached for the opal polish to be painted over her fingers. "Do you mind if I look?"

"Go for it," Mari smiled, concentrating on the alcohol wipe she was swiping over (Y/N)'s nail beds.

Rolling the bottle around her hand, (Y/N) smiled up at Harry. "Is this the final bottle?"

"Mhm," he hummed, a sense of pride touching at the center of his chest, "We changed a couple of things from when I last showed you, but this is it."

He watched her admire the polish, tipping the bottle to and fro as she watched the color inside bubble and shift. The glitters shown in the light, going undetected until catching a ray and sparkling a vivid pink. When he saw her tilt the bottle to catch the name stickered to the bottom, he couldn't help the pulse his hands gave to the back of her chair.

Would she notice? Was the connecting line thick enough to spot?

Labeled on the bottom of the bottle was the word lovie printed in white ink on the black sticker.

"Hey," (Y/N) called, her voice lilting, "That's me!"

She pulled the bottle towards him, showing off the proof with a warming smile on her lips.

His lungs squeezed even as he tried to play it off, squinting at the bottle as if reading it for the first time. "It is, isn't it?"

"Did you do that on purpose?" she asked, alternating her hands once Mari gave a small tap to her wrist.

"Maybe," he murmured. Did he sound as breathless as he felt?

(Y/N)'s mouth pulled into a bubbly smile—just as bright and attention grabbing as the first time he met her. "Harry," she crooned his name, the syllables cradled on her tongue, "I didn't know you did that. It's so sweet."

There was a moment where he wondered if this was the moment. Was this the moment to share that of course he would name one of these shades after her, as this whole thing was an ode to his feelings for her. Was this warehouse being used as their set the perfect place to tell her what every single shade meant to him and how it was tied to her? It wouldn't be so bad, he thought.

Instead, Harry only bashfully shrugged, tipping his shy smile towards his feet. "'M happy y'like it."

Settling her hands for Mari to begin painting, (Y/N) still kept her attention tipped towards Harry. "Is that why you wanted me to be in the shoot?" she asked, leaning towards where he was still stationed behind her chair, "So, there's, like, platonic love in there too for Valentine's?"

Harry's lungs squeezed for a different reason this time. Platonic love between friends. That's why he named a polish after her in his most romantic collection to date.

"Something like that," he settled on, hoping she didn't catch the way his smile fell just a hair.

Though (Y/N) parted her lips to offer a response, she was cut off before she could take a breath. Harry Lambert was fluttering by the stations, keeping an eye on every model readying for the campaign before he met Harry.

"Sue, would you help me bring in all the clothing, please?" he asked, a tenor of stress entering his voice.

Breaking away from (Y/N)'s chair, Harry didn't hesitate before nodding his head. "Course. Where do y'need me?"

Vaguely, Harry Lambert pointed towards the set pieces before he shook his head. "Just follow me."

Absently, Harry tossed over his shoulder to (Y/N), "I'll be right back, lovie."

When he heard a small okay peep from her, he looked towards her only to see her already blinking at him with admiration in her eyes. No wonder he felt so warm.

—————

Harry was sure his dimples were deep in his cheeks as he leaned over Molly's shoulder, looking at the photos popping up on the computer screen as every shot was uploaded. Unsurprisingly, his favorites were of (Y/N).

Her makeup and hair was done minimally in true Pleasing style, leaving everything sheer and pastel. Her nails were glimmering in the light, dreamy filters to be added to the shots that would accentuate the glitter in the varnish. She looked entirely too cozy in the large pink crewneck clad on her torso and the comfy lounge shorts hugging her hips. Though there was still a stiffness as she transitioned between poses, as if waiting for someone to yell at her to fix her stance, he could see her growing more and more comfortable among the set. She made friends with a few of the other models, making it much easier for her to fit into those group shots and allow her laughter to filter through the room.

It made him feel an undeniable hint of pride seeing her grow so comfortable in front of the camera. He knew she never much preferred being in front of the camera like this, so every small breath of progress she made had his heart glowing for her.

Watching every shot come in over Molly's shoulder, Harry was almost disappointed when the photographer called for a cut; the lighting needed to be adjusted apparently with extra props being brought in before the focus would shift to the colorful end of the campaign. He stepped back, giving however many assistants were helping out all the space they needed to take care of every minute change.

As the models scattered, (Y/N) made a beeline back towards Harry, ushering out of the way as quickly as possible. With everyone distracted, he didn't hesitate before he draped his arms around her shoulders in a loose hug.

"How are y'feeling?" he asked, offering her a quiet smile, "Y'look like you're having fun."

(Y/N) leant into him, her cheek smushed against the blocked muscle of his chest. "I am, but I'm getting tired. I don't know how you do this all the time."

A breath of laughter left his lips at her mumbling. "'S surprisingly exhausting, isn't it? Being the center of attention really takes a lot out of a person."

"No wonder you can fall asleep anywhere," she mused, playing along, "Your life is so hard."

"I've been trying to tell you," he smiled, pulsing his arms around her when he realized just how hard she was leaning into him.

She'd been on her feet from the second she had her makeup and hair finished and there were still hours left of her day, even after lunch was served. As much as he was teasing, he was sure she truly was rather exhausted with this being her first time being more than a spectator on set.

A companionable silence settled between them, Harry not needing to peek to know that she'd had shuttered her eyes while he hugged her. From the corner of his eye, there was a familiar production assistant flittering around with the polaroid camera Harry Lambert had passed off earlier in the day, tasked with documenting the day for behind-the-scenes content. Like a sixth sense, Harry swore he could feel the lens focusing on him and (Y/N), but he didn't flinch back or turn to spot the assistant.

Instead, he stayed right where he was with (Y/N) in his arms even when the camera clicked and light flashed over the space.

—————

"I'll be done in, like, ten minutes, 'kay?" Harry murmured, dropping his bag by the station (Y/N) had claimed for the day, "Lambert said there were only a couple of totes left, so I won't take long."

"Okay," (Y/N) nodded, matching his eyes in the mirror as she pulled out makeup wipes, "I should be done by then."

Harry lingered behind her for a moment, eyes bright in the reflection, before he stepped away. (Y/N) felt her skin warm in his wake, heart fumbling in its beats before she settled in her chair. She made a point to fix her attention to the makeup wipe she was skimming over her skin, keeping her eyes forward instead of following after him.

The other models had cleared out as soon as the photographer had called for a wrap, leaving production behind to clean up and clear out for the night. Harry had, of course, volunteered to help clean as much as he could for the night causing (Y/N) to stay back with him. She had helped break down stations and pack props before finally retiring to the final standing station so she could get un-ready herself.

From her peripheral, (Y/N) spotted Molly bustling around, trusty clipboard in hand. Catching her eye in the mirror, Molly finally paused her constant rushing with her muscles visibly relaxing.

"I've barely been able to talk to you today," Molly said in greeting as she approached (Y/N)'s station, gifting a small hug with an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you for helping out today."

"Of course," (Y/N) smiled, the bulbs around the mirror catching the shimmering stickers on her nails that only made her smile stretch wider. "Thank you for letting me be a part of the shoot. I had a lot of fun."

Molly shifted her weight and leant against (Y/N)’s chair, her features softened. "I could tell. Harry was so worried for you this morning," she shared, "He felt bad, like he had made you say yes when you didn't really want to do this."

Wiping the light mascara off her eyes, (Y/N) shrugged, "You know it's not really my thing, but he said this one was really important to him. I'm really happy I did it, though—the collection is gorgeous, you guys really did so well with this one."

"All of the ideas were H's, so I can't really take any credit for it. Lambert and I just put it all in production," Molly shared, fondness on her features. "We only told him we wanted to do a Valentine's inspired collection, and he already had all of these ideas. We weren't planning to do a dual release, but he'd had so many that he wanted to add that it turned into what we have now."

"He didn't tell me that," (Y/N) chirped, feeling herself begin to soften. She had known Harry had a large hand in the creative side of these collections, but she hadn't known that he had brought all of the ideas to the table for this one. "I don't know where he gets all of his inspiration between writing and everything with this. He never stops."

(Y/N)'s teasing comment prompted Molly to laugh along with her, both of them familiar with how hard Harry tended to push himself both creatively and physically.

"Like, you don't know," Molly said, amusement carrying over her words.

A pinch touched at (Y/N)'s brows, her hand slowing over her skin to leave her mascara as only smudges under her eyes. "What do you mean?"

It was Molly's turn to cant her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked at (Y/N)'s reflection. "I thought that was why you decided to finally be a part of the shoot. That Harry told you."

For a heartbeat, (Y/N) swore she was in some kind of movie scene. The theatrics of the moment seemed to be blown out of proportion, if only in her eyes.

"Told me about what?"

At this, Molly seemingly realized that she may have hinted at something (Y/N) hadn't known anything about. She pursed her lips as if she wanted to keep in her next words, but both of them knew she didn't have much of a choice now that she had started on this avenue.

"That it's you—the inspiration for the collection. He wasn't very good at hiding it before he finally just told Lambert. All of the shades have something to do with you."

(Y/N) was hyper aware of Molly's words, even if the sound of her heart pumping began to flood through her ears.

Strings began to connect throughout the last month since he initially showed her the samples of the polishes. The crew neck he claimed he made with her in mind. The dual collection having four different shades of her favorite color—a fact about her he knew without a doubt. The varnish named after the pet name he had dubbed her as throughout the years, something he had immediately tied to her when she had pointed it out just that morning.

Maybe it was the new information getting to her head, but more and more pieced itself together. That lingering look he gave her in the mirror just moments earlier felt like more evidence, including the way he held her between shots today, tiny moments that didn't feel out of the ordinary for him. Now those memories could be tinted in rose as moments that were only ordinary because it was between the two of them.

"Oh," (Y/N) simply sounded, dropping her eyes from Molly's with a flutter of her lashes.

A beat passed before Molly piped up with an apology in her tone. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I thought you knew, or I wouldn't have said anything."

"No, no, don't be sorry!" (Y/N) rushed, turning in her seat to match her eyes truly, "It's okay, I'm just surprised."

Casting her eyes around the dwindling room, Molly lowered her voice by the time she matched (Y/N)'s gaze once more. "Good surprise?"

Before (Y/N) could give an answer—one she wasn't even sure of—Harry joined their group, He reached towards his bag on the vanity, lookin at the two women with a question in his eyes. "Did you need a couple more minutes?" he asked, not-so-discreetly looking at the shadows left under (Y/N)'s eyes.

She could feel her stilted smile on her lips, but (Y/N) hoped Harry wouldn't notice. "Why? Did I miss something?"

Molly made a quiet getaway with a quick pat to Harry's shoulder, taking his attention for a moment as he gave a small way and murmured his goodbye. For a split second, Molly shot (Y/N) a sheepish glance before she was hustling through the space once more.

When Harry returned to (Y/N), his gaze was scrutinizing this time, a pinch to his brows as he ducked his head to be level with her.

"I don't think so, no," he said, answering her teasing remark. Reaching out, he gently dragged his fingertips over the soft skin of her under eye, picking up some of the smudgy mess on the pads of his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat at the touch, a stillness touching her muscles she hoped he wouldn't catch. He made a show of inspecting his hands with a comically deep frown on his lips. "Thought I saw something, but, no, y'got it all. Ready to go?"

Looking at her through the fan of his lashes, (Y/N) saw the teasing gleam to his eyes, though she swore there was something more floating in his irises.

Had that always been there?

"Um," she mumbled, dropping back into the moment, "Yeah, I'm ready."

The amusement in Harry's eyes faded at her stilted answer. Creases appeared between his eyes as he gazed at her, his bag loose in his hand. "Y'alright?"

"Yeah," she attempted to chirp, hopping out of her chair, "I think the day is just catching up to me and all. Just got really tired."

"Well, then," he started, standing to the full of his height before slinging an arm over her shoulder, "let's get y'home, lovie."

When he gave a small pulse to the cuff of her shoulder, his fingers denting the soft of her arm, (Y/N) tried to remember if it always felt that charged when he touched her.

—————

"Hey, you."

Harry held back a sigh when (Y/N) reached his open arms, burying his nose into her hair as she wrapped her arms around his middle. He settled instead for shuttering his eyes and sinking into her hold. It'd been a long week since he'd seen her last after taking her home after the Pleasing shoot; both he and (Y/N) seemed to be too busy to send more than a few texts to one another throughout the day. It wasn't a secret to him that (Y/N) was the brightest party of his day, but he hadn't realized just how good he had it until she had pulled back those days.

"How are you?" (Y/N) murmured, her voice muffled from the way her cheek was squished against his chest, "I feel like I've barely talked to you since last week."

"Me too," he said, drawing away just enough to see her face with his arms a warm loop around her, "I've been alright, though. You?"

Her eyes skated down his features long enough Harry swore he could feel her gaze like a touch from her hand. His skin warmed in her wake, a pinkened blush surely rising to the surface of his cheeks.

"I've been good," she finally answered, the heartbeat between his question and her response seeming hours long instead of mere seconds. "Just tired still. I feel like I haven't recovered from last weekend, yet."

"'M not surprised, y'worked hard." Harry dropped himself back into the moment, clearing his throat. "Molly emailed me some preliminary shots the other day."

Perking up in his arms, her eyes brightening. "She did? How did they look?"

A lopsided smile poked at the corner of his mouth. "I can show you, if y'want. Jus' need to grab m'laptop from m'room."

All it took was a giddy nod from her and a quiet yes, please! that had him untangling from her arms and heading towards his room.

As much as he wanted to stay right where he was in her arms, he needed a breath of air. Perhaps distance, no matter how small it was, really did make the heart grow fonder and Harry wasn't immune to the effects.

His paces were measured as he scaled his stairs to his bedroom, grabbing his laptop from where it was charging on the side of his bed. The email in question wasn't hard to find, especially since one of his favorite shots—the polaroid one production assistant had nabbed of he and (Y/N) snuggling during a break—was now his home screen on his phone. (And, one of (Y/N)'s official shots was now her contact photo).

Heading downstairs, he found her already making herself at home on his couch. With a blanket his mom had knitted for him thrown over her legs, she was scrolling through her phone despite the streaming service pulled up on his television.

"Comfy already, lovie?" he laughed, crossing from the landing to take his own spot next to her.

"A little," she answered, decidedly reserved in her teasing. That had been much of how it was this past week, (Y/N) too distracted, or tired, or whatever it was to play with him too much. He hoped it truly was nothing more than being a little tired.

Leaning in close, he settled his laptop on his thighs as he pulled up the attachments. Beginning to card through the photos, he offered a short explanation, "They're not edited completely yet, but we've got some of the effects added. We're still picking which shots are going to be used for the site and which will be used for the socials, but it all turned out really well."

Even as every picture lit up his screen, the pad of his finger on the touchpad, Harry favored watching (Y/N)'s reactions as opposed to looking at the shots themselves. He wanted to know if she loved it as much as he did.

The bright colors cast washes of pale color over her skin, shining like the moon at times with others giving a petal softness to the high points of her face. He could tell when a picture of her appeared with the way she rolled her lips between her teeth, a quiet bashfulness softening the edges of her features.

"Wait, wait, go back," (Y/N) asked, leaning forward as if to get a closer look at a missed photo.

Peeling his gaze away from her profile, Harry looked to his laptop to see the photo that had caught her attention was the same one that he favored. An artistically framed shot of their polaroid filled his screen, the nature of the camera already giving fuzzied edges to their forms, an extra set of dreamy editing adding that much more to the sight.

"Y'like this one?" he murmured, a delicate edge to his voice.

"When did they take this one?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper for only him to hear.

"During that break, remember? Lambert and Molly had an assistant going around to get production shots, and they caught us," he smiled, reliving that moment with her in his arms and the warmth of her form against his, "We're thinking about using this in one of the social shots."

(Y/N) was silent then, her eyes flitting over every pixel that made up the photo. He hadn't expected her to go so quiet.

"But, we don't have to use it if y'don't want to," Harry carefully offered, already rearranging the composition of the offered rollout to accommodate her if she was so uncomfortable. "I can talk to Mo—"

"No, no, that's not—" she started, stumbling some through her words when she managed to meet his eyes finally, "I just... Can I ask you something?"

The connotations of the phrase had Harry's heart fumbling and palms sweating right away. "'Course. What is it?"

Hesitating as she rolled her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) let his words hang between them for a few heartbeats too long.

"Molly told me something after the shoot," she started, her words careful and calculated, "I wanted to know if it was true."

He couldn't imagine what Molly would have shared that would have had (Y/N) so cryptic and unsure. "Okay," he offered, drawling over the word.

"She said..." (Y/N) paused, dropping her eyes from his until they landed on the hollow of his throat—a safe place to look when she was too afraid of his reaction. His palms became that much more clammy. "She said something about how this collection was about... me. That you told Harry that you had all these ideas because they were from me."

In the same moment that time attempted to stop, everything in Harry's body went into overdrive. Was it safe to feel his heartbeat in the base of his throat? Was it normal to want to suck in more air than his lungs needed?

What was he supposed to say to that?

More importantly: what answer did (Y/N) want to hear?

Would she be excited to hear that yes, everything Molly had told her was true and he just didn't know how to tell her himself. It was easier to manifest it all into cute little nail polishes and matching stickers. Or did she want him to say no, Molly's imagination had run a bit too wild, or she had heard him wrong, or, or, or—

"Yes," he suddenly blurted out, his mouth ahead of his brain.

(Y/N) blinked at him. Her eyes floated back to his, bewildered at his blunt answer. "Yes, it's true?"

The dam that was his filter had too big of a crack to be properly repaired, it appeared. There was no holding back the river.

"Yes," he affirmed, a weight in his chest pushing the words out before he could offer more thought, "The—um—the yellow one with the gold glitter, it matches the dress y'wore the first time y'came to one of m'shows. And, pink is your favorite color, so I wanted to make as many different ones as we could so you'd have as many as y'wanted to wear. I don't even know if y'have this lipstick anymore, but the red was to match the one y'were wearing when we met. A-All of them are for—about you."

By the time he managed to zip his lips, there was still plenty to be said but he figured the rambling was more than enough to both humiliate himself and put (Y/N) on the spot.

The longer she didn't say anything in response, the more Harry sweat. His thoughts were nothing but a swirl heading down a drain, too heavy and incoherent to make sense of.

"(Y/N), I—I didn't m—"

As quick as he opened his mouth like a guppy, fumbling over his words, he was silenced with (Y/N) pressing her kiss to his lips.

It was startling at first, taking every ribbon holding him together unraveled, turning him into a scramble. It was only when he felt a careful smile spread over her mouth and she drew away a hair that Harry came alive.

This was what he'd dreamt of, why was he wasting it?

Molding his lips to hers, Harry tasted the soft curve of her cupid's bow when he tucked his bottom lip between her two. Faint traces of a fruity chapstick remained on her mouth, though the only taste he got was her. There was no other way to describe the fragrance other than it being (Y/N). Every soft parting and letting of their mouths gave him a rush of that essence, pulling him in deeper and deeper each time.

The laptop on his thighs was a forgotten object as he turned his body to face her, the device sliding somewhere among the cushions of his couch. His hand landed carefully on the soft of her cheek, feeling a warmth blooming in her skin under his palm. He could feel every pacing of her muscles, feeling how her body moved for no other purpose than to kiss him. It brought a pinch to his brow, an unfurling happening in his chest he couldn't even begin to unpack right then.

While it wasn't an urgent, explicit kiss, Harry didn't want to pull away first. Hours could have been spent on his couch just like this, if not for the fact (Y/N) decided she needed air more than his kiss.

Following her cue, he gave her some space when she drew away. Her skin was warm as she blinked her eyes open to match his own. He watched as a smile spread over her lips the longer she looked at him.

"You like me?"

A peal of laughter fell from Harry's lips, bursting through his chest and filling his bones.

"Maybe. Why?"

(Y/N)'s laughter filled the one place his own happiness couldn't fill quite as well: his heart.

—————

Pleasing's Cupid Collection available now.

(Y/N) barely noticed the notification sliding down the top of her screen, seeing as she was already on the main page of the brand's website. Refreshing the site, the homepage completely rearranged to showcase the dual collection now available for patrons to browse, her own face flashing in the campaign video playing at the top of the page. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

Was this how Harry felt every time he released music? Or really anything for the world to see?

With the way her heart hammered in her chest, she wasn't sure how he survived things like this.

Another notification pinged at the top of her phone. Pleasing had just made a post on Instagram.

Tapping on the dropdown, she was taken from the Pleasing page and to her instagram app. The new post popped up automatically.

The shot showcased a collection of polaroid photos, some of behind the scenes shots of official photos for the campaign and others showing candid moments between the models and production during the making of the shoot. They were all laid out on a satiny pink sheet, a dreamy filter adding gleaming lights and iridescent shifts throughout the page.

There was one familiar polaroid that caught her eye—one that was barely within frame but something she had seen enough times she could spot with the barest of pixels. Just barely, she could see herself leaning against the chest of someone who was almost completely cut out of the frame, leaving only a set of arms to be seen wrapped around her shoulders with her eyes closed in contentment.

Just barely, through the haze of the filter, (Y/N) could see a small tattoo on her companion's hand: a black cross.

As if being summoned by her thoughts alone, those same arms draped themselves around her from where she stood in the middle of the kitchen. Harry's chin settled on her shoulder, looking at her screen as she pulled up the comments on the photos.

"What's everyone saying?" he murmured, his lips pressing against the column of her throat in a delicate kiss.

The smile that landed on her lips was tender and instinctual, something that settled there without her permission. She didn't have to truly read any of the commented reactions to know the public's opinion.

"They love it," she told him, voice a quiet croon.

"Yeah?" His smile was audible in his tone. "I think this one's gonna be the most popular yet."

"You think so?" (Y/N) questioned, swiping out of the reactions if only to see the glimpse of their polaroid once more.

Placing a gentle hand on her cheek, Harry tipped her chin to face him. There was a gleam in his eyes that (Y/N) never realized was so familiar until the first time they kissed. There was a small tug to the corner of his lips, a single dimple denting his cheek.

"Yeah. I've jus' got a feeling."

He dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers.

—————

:)))) thank you for reading, so sorry if there's any mistakes and if theres any questions or anything you have please please send them in! I hope you enjoyed :)

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wileys-russo · 2 months

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i’ve noticed that alexia usually doesn’t wear nail polish and it gave me a thought..

imagine reader being super happy to always do her own nails with different nail polishes and designs and having them perfectly manicured even though they are short for practical reasons and then one day reader is doing her nails bc she’s bored and alexia is there watching a match as preparation like always and reader begs her to let her do her nails as well and alexia gives in because she can’t resist reader but is like 😐 the entire time even though she secretly loves it

and reader paints the nails a rose color with small red hearts because it’s cute and ale is like 😐 still

reader posts a story of it super proud of the design (bc small hearts on short nails are a pain in the ass let me tell you) and ale still acts like she couldn’t care less

butttt then refuses to let reader take it off again and keeps it the entire time even though it grows out and gets chapped and everything and next time reader does her own nails and is about to put the nail polishes away, ale is like: what about me? ☹️

tiny red hearts II a.putellas

amid the pandemic everyone picked up a hobbie in lockdown.

if it be knitting, dancing, pottery, reading, cooking, puzzles. you name it, someone had likely perfected it as an art form during those weeks and weeks locked away from society.

you were no different. you'd tried cooking, reading, jigsaws, colouring in, sudoku, but nothing really clicked.

until one day you were endlessly doom scrolling your various social medias as again, everyone was, when you stumbled across a nail art video. intrigued you'd watched it, then another, and another, and another.

then before you knew it you had package after package arriving on your doorstep and the days melted into weeks as you worked tirelessly to perfect the art.

and now, you'd done it.

which is how you came to be sitting on the floor of your apartment, bottles of polish sat in perfect colour coded order on the coffee table with all your little brushes and tools neatly lined up in front.

your bottom lip was firmly between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed deeply with concentration as your eyes squinted and your hand moved slowly and precisely.

your girlfriend of two years whom you shared your home with lay stretched out on the sofa behind your head, toned tanned arms crossed firmly across her chest.

her face was stoic and seemingly stern as ever, nothing unusual when she was reviewing game footage and given she wasn't currently able to play her studying had only increased.

you were off in your own little world and she was in hers, you coexisted but knew how not to be codependent, one of the things that made your relationship healthy was the fact that despite how long you'd been seeing one another you still spent time apart.

you would go shopping or out for drinks with your school friends you'd known for years, as alexia would often go for dinner or hikes with some of her own childhood friends.

that's not to say you weren't infatuated with one another, and whenever you did spend time apart you were increasingly clingy that night once you were reunited but when out you knew to respect one another's time and space.

with a small exhale of relief you finally finished the intricate design you'd been working on, your frown switching quickly into a grin as you slipped your hand into the UV nail lamp and waited for them to dry.

since a young age you were known to daydream, your girlfriend finding it adorable as much as amusing as you'd zone out from reality and go somewhere she never understood. sometimes alexia would just watch you with lovesick puppy dog eyes filled with nothing but pure adoration, though always in the privacy and intimacy of just one another's company.

like right now where you'd clearly drifted off somewhere as the footballers eyes glanced down toward you and her hardened features softened, corners of her mouth curled upward into a smile.

"hola princesa." you snapped right out of it as her foot moved to push at your shoulder, dragging you back down to earth as you shrugged her off and sent her a playful glare, pulling your hand out and flicking off the lamp as both of them were now dry.

"look!" you leapt up eagerly and dropped down on the lounge next to your girlfriend, wiggling your fingers proudly at the blonde who hummed.

"muy bien bebé." alexia complimented, softly kissing your cheek and turning her attention back to the television where the match had resumed, as did the stoic expression on her face.

"alee." you started with a coy smile, grabbing her hand and interlacing your fingers with a gentle squeeze. "mm?" the midfielder hummed, eyes unmoving from the screen.

"can i paint your nails amor?" you asked, alexia only letting out a puff of air from her nose as she chuckled, shaking her head. "please! you know i'm good and they'll look good." you pleaded, squeezing her hand again.

"no princesa, no nails." alexia shook her head as you huffed, moving to rest your chin on her shoulder, lazily kissing her jaw. "please? please, please, please-" you repeated over and over, peppering kisses across her face.

now as much as alexia could be at times be a fierce woman, driven and passionate and willing to do absolutely anything to achieve whatever she set her mind to, she had a fatal soft spot.

you.

alexia would do nearly everything that you asked of her, with a few sweet words in her ear and a charming smile you had the catalan wrapped around your little finger, and you knew it.

so of course it was with a deep seeded sigh that alexia gave into your demand, wordlessly placing her free hand in your lap as you beamed. clapping happily you sat up properly and grabbed her chin in your hand, pecking her lips a few times and reveling in the slight pink blush which coated her cheeks.

you sat back down on the ground and stared carefully at your arsenal of colours, taking a few moments to decide what you wanted to do before nodding happily and grabbing what you needed.

you settled back down on the lounge as again alexia moved her hand into your lap, eyes glued to the match as her eyebrows turned downward in frustration at a fumbled tackle and an easily preventable shot at the barcelona goal.

"you will get wrinkles corazón." you teased, smoothing out her eyebrows with your thumb as the tiniest of smiles flickered across her face just for a moment which wasn't missed by you.

warning her to stay still you placed her right hand down on your knee and grabbed out the first colour after tugging the coffee table closer so everything you needed was well within reach to avoid anything being knocked or falling.

much as alexia might bend over backwards to do as you asked you knew well enough if you spilled even a drop of polish on the carpet or the sofa you'd be hearing about it for days.

as you set to work your girlfriends face remained stoic, but her bright hazel eyes flickered down to you curiously every now and then, corner of her lip curling upward at the look of sheer concentration on your face and the way the tip of your tongue poked out of the side of your mouth.

finishing one hand you blew gently on the nails, unable to use the machine which was plugged in and just out of reach. though not in any rush as you awaited her first hand to dry you kept a cautious eye that she didn't move as your head dropped to her shoulder.

there was a comfortable silence between you, the only sound the occasional grunt of frustration from the taller girl whose side you were curled into, a shake of her head and something mumbled under her breath at every costly mistake.

her first hand drying you tapped her knee, gesturing for her to swing her legs into your lap so you could reach her other hand. shuffling her body she did as you asked, sliding down a little as her head thumped backward into the soft cushions behind.

you couldn't do anything to keep the smile off your face as you worked on your girlfriends nail design, incredibly happy with how it turned out as again you gently blew on her hand, settling it back into her lap to dry.

warning her about not moving you crawled up the lounge and wedged yourself in beside her, sitting half on top of her much to the older girls amusement as you pulled her other arm to drape across your shoulder allowing you to tuck yourself even tighter into her side.

checking a few moments later you were happy they were dry and sat up a little, shrugging off your girlfriends arm and eagerly taking her hands in yours.

"done." you announced happily, holding her hands up as alexia's eyes moved from the tv to her hands which made yours seem tiny, your own gaze falling to admire both the size difference and the small 11 tattooed on the back of her palm.

"i did more of a pale pink because i know you do not like them too bright, but i did tiny red hearts on each nail for barca!" you explained with a beaming smile, alexia melting at the confession as she stole a glance toward you and softened even more seeing the clear delight in your eyes.

"perfecto bebita." your girlfriend gave you a small smile not giving much away, one of her hands slipping around to cup the back of your neck and bringing you into a tender kiss.

"can i put them on my story? i think these are some of my favourites." you asked hopefully as alexia shrugged, eyes having returned back to the final few minutes of the match, seemingly unfazed.

grabbing your phone you positioned her hands on her knees, taking a few photos and editing your favourite before adding it onto your instagram and curling back up on top of your girlfriend who held you tightly, eyes flickering down to her nails with a small hidden smile every few minutes.

that next day at training was a very different story though as alexia couldn't wait to show off her nails to the rest of the team. the morning was spent with the midfielder very proudly boasting how good you were and that you were completely self taught, ignoring all the teasing remarks thrown her way about how she'd gone soft.

when you'd come to collect her that afternoon having dropped her off and borrowed her car for the day as yours was being serviced you were overwhelmed as a small group of the girls suddenly swarmed you in the carpark.

"hey hey hey back up vale!" alexia warned protectively, moving in front of you with a mean stare as a few of the younger girls cowered and hurried off to their own cars as the rest rolled their eyes.

"me next amiga! maybe little black hearts? or...letters." mapi beamed, eyes flickering toward her girlfriend who caught onto what she was wanting and blushed as you laughed.

"get your own! este es mío." alexia huffed, wrapping herself around you as her chin hooked into your shoulder and she sent her best friend a glare.

"tomorrow? you can cook me dinner as payment." you offered, mapi agreeing eagerly as you promised to also do ingrid's nails as you caught her pouting at you over her girlfriends head.

"sí, sí! before the next game chicas, promise." you laughed as pina, salma and patri swooped in next undeterred by the murderous glare given by your girlfriend who refused to unwind her arms where they wrapped tightly around your torso holding your back flush to her front.

"we are going! relax capi, you will get wrinkles." patri smirked as alexia's eyes narrowed even further and the three sprinted off and away. with a small laugh you craned your back back staring up at your girlfriend with a wide grin.

"see amor? i warned you about the frown wrinkles."

you expected alexia to allow the nails for a couple of days before she'd want to return back to normal with a clean set again, so you were surprised when anytime you'd offer to help her take it off she seemed to come up with every and any excuse not to.

by the end of day five with the rigorous gym program and workouts needed with alexia's recovery the polish was cracked and chipped, most of it worn off and faded, hearts now barely small red blobs.

it was that night alexia finally seemed eager for you to wipe them clean, again swinging her long bare legs into your lap and settling her hands on her knee for you to work on.

the removal process compared to the creation was next to nothing and before even five minutes had passed you were finished, tapping her legs to let you up to move your things back to the bathroom where they normally lived.

when you returned it was to an empty and dark living room, changing route you followed the light at the end of the hallway where you finally found your girlfriend once more.

you held a hand over your mouth to stifle the loud boom of laughter you wished you could get out, the catalan having fallen deep asleep on top of the bed, one of your favorite dramas playing in the background where she'd clearly intended the two of you to lay in bed together and watch.

with a small sigh of amusement you flitted back around the house ensuring everything was locked and off before you returned, closing the bedroom door behind you with a gentle click.

the room now only illuminated by the dim glow of the tv as you flicked off the downlight you made you way around to her side of the bed and crouched down.

"amor. amor. cari? ale." you repeated softly, moving one arm to shake her lightly when there was no response, the blondes chocolate brown eyes fluttering open tiredly as you shook her a little harder.

"hey baby, into bed?" you ran a hand through her mane of hair, moving a few loose strands off her forehead with a soft smile as the footballer sighed tiredly but sat up as you tugged down the covers allowing her to slip inside properly.

already showered and changed you ducked off to the bathroom to brush your teeth before joining her, chuckling as once more she was seemingly dead to the world, mouth ever so slightly ajar as her blonde hair sprawled across the pillow.

though as the mattress dipped, never the heaviest of sleepers alexia awoke a little, turning around to her other side and shuffling down the bed as her face pressed into your neck and her long legs tangled with yours, feet rubbing against one another.

you felt an i love you mumbled against your skin as her arms wrapped tightly around you, latching her taller body firmly onto yours making you smile and tangle a hand in her hair.

the next night you removed your own nail polish and sat down to redo it, having spent a few hours scrolling through for inspiration before it struck and within minutes you'd grabbed what you needed and settled.

though before you could even glance to the bottles of polish a body dropped down next to you and suddenly strong hands were on your hips lifting you up.

"ale!" you laughed as she set you down on her lap, long legs stretched out straight as you wiggled a little to get comfortable. "my turn first please." the girl spoke in her accented english, her hands moving around you and placing themselves on your knees.

"oh your turn?" you asked both equally pleased and surprised, turning a little so you could look up at her. "sí, mi novia so my turn." alexia smiled softly, ducking her head to press a lingering kiss against your lips.

you smiled as you pulled away, a hand softly carressing her cheek as your thumb pulled at her bottom lip, pressing another tender kiss against them with a lovesick sigh.

"of course mi amor whatever you want. so, what colour?"

#woso x reader #woso #woso community #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 3 months

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 18) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.9k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Angst; Family Drama; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You try to adapt to life without Jake beside you anymore.

Series Master List

Master List

Dear Jake,

You probably haven’t even reached the aircraft carrier yet. You might even still be on the ground in Miramar. But I couldn’t wait. I miss you. You’ve been gone for less than five hours, and I already miss you so much. I'm not saying that to try and make you feel bad, but because it's the only thing on my mind now.

Everyone offered to take me out today to try and distract me, but I declined. I think that I just want some time to myself. I honestly don't even want to get out of bed. Maybe I’ll do some cleaning. Or who knows? Maybe I’m an accomplished knitter who hasn’t discovered her talent yet. Or maybe I’ll bake again. I don’t know.

Also, all of the tee shirts you left behind are now mine. Sorry, it’s just wife rules. You shouldn’t have married me and knocked me up if you didn’t want me to steal your stuff.

I miss you. I love you. And so does our little girl. Come home safe, Lieutenant Commander. That’s an order.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I went back to work today. Everyone tried to talk to me about you and the wedding and everything, but I just wanted to be left alone. Also, my cravings are all over the place now. And half of the stuff seems to make me throw up these days. Luckily, I still have the gum and toothbrush in my desk.

How’s everything? I assumed that you made it to the carrier by now. Or maybe you’re somewhere else entirely.

You know all of those spy movies over romanticize how sexy it is to be waiting at home for your husband to return home from some top secret mission.

It’s not sexy. It’s just annoying.

Here’s a photo of me and my bump. Don’t mind the mess in the background, I’m rearranging the whole apartment. Call it nervous organizing. It'll be cleaned up. Eventually.

She’s been a shy ever since you left. I can still feel her moving around, but even she seems to have realized that you're gone. I think that she just misses you. And I can’t blame her because I miss you too.

I love you, Jake. Come home safely.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I got the package that you bought for me. I hope that you know that if you were here, I would have given you a rerun of that time that we went to that desert concert. The one where you wouldn't remove your hands from my waist for a second. I hope that your big promotion doesn’t change how much you enjoyed it when I tied your hands up back in your truck.

Our daughter’s been moving around like crazy today ever since I played your voice for her. She doesn’t seem to be willing to kick yet, but we’ll get there in time.

I let Emma take me out today. We just took a walk around her neighborhood. Baby girl finally went to bed after that. But knowing her, she’ll wake up just in time for me to go to bed.

Here’s our photo from today. Emma took it. I can’t believe I’m going to get even bigger. You owe me a deep tissue massage on my back when you get home. And I’ll hold you to it.

We love you and miss you, Jake.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved in with Mav today. I thought I wanted to be alone, but I was wrong. Being alone with my thoughts just makes me sad and lonely and I don’t want our daughter to bake in that. She needs to inherit your smile and dimples, so I’m making a bigger effort to be happy.

Penny took me to get my nails done today. I got a light pink for our daughter, but now everyone’s assuming that we’re having a girl. I haven’t confirmed it because we didn’t discuss it before you left but don’t be shocked when you come home to a lot of pink.

I also started seriously researching some girl names. I never realized how many people I don’t like until I started trying to name our daughter. And you better speak up if any of the ones that I suggest are ones that have bad meanings to you.

I’m still digging through a whole bunch of lists but there’s such weird ones out there, Jake. And we cannot name our child something that would get us a look from her teachers. Or a stripper name.

I love you. Baby girl is behaving herself, but she misses you.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

To My Beautiful Wife,

I finally got a chance to check my email. We’re settled on the carrier now, but we’ve been doing a lot of drills and long briefings. I'm sorry that I haven't written earlier. Know that the two of you are always on my mind.

I’m glad you got your gift. I tried to record what I could think of for our baby girl. I don’t want her to miss anything. And I don’t want her keeping you up at night. Has she kicked yet? By my count, you’re hitting seven months in a day or two.

Thanks for sending me those photos. I put up one of the two of you from that photo shoot in my plane. Really brightens up the place. But it also reminds me of what I’m missing. Sometimes I have to take it down so I can focus.

I miss you. I miss our little girl. Every day, every hour, every second.

Try to relax. I know that everyone’s probably told you that a thousand times by now, but I don’t want you feeling stressed about me. I’m fine and I'll be home as soon as I can. Please tell me that you didn’t lift anything heavy while you were moving into Mav’s house. Or maybe it's better if you don't tell me.

And you can tell everyone about her. I don’t mind. It’s not like we could keep it a secret for much longer anyways. But make sure to mention that I was right.

And you have to tell me the worst names that you've seen on these lists. I left a list of baby names I liked in my nightstand. I'd research them when I couldn't sleep at night.

I love you and I love our daughter. I’ll try to be home soon.

Your Husband,

Jake

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I had my seven month appointment today. Baby girl is healthy and still measuring a little small. But her heartbeat is strong and I can tell that she’s going to be stubborn coming out. The doctor says that it’s only a matter of time before she starts kicking.

I hope that the ocean isn’t too rough and you can see the stars. I remember when Mav and I spent a month in Hawaii when I was a teenager. We saw the most beautiful stars there. What if we picked a star name for our daughter? Not Stella, though. That was our dog's name growing up and I can't name my daughter after a dog.

I didn’t lift anything. Mav wouldn’t let me. And neither would Bradley. They’re watching me like hawks these days. And no, I didn’t mean that as a bird joke. Also, I can’t name our daughter after a bird. I’m trying to end the family streak of joke names.

Mckeighleigh was the most ridiculous looking name I’ve seen so far. And we’re not naming our daughter Precious either. Or worse, Chastity. I don’t know how those nurses keep a straight face when they hear those names.

And your recording telling her to go to bed has come in handy lately. Though I did warn her that we’ll be discussing the fact that she only seems to listen to you about that when she comes out.

I love you so much Jake. You’ll be home soon, I know it. And we’ll be waiting for you when you do.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I can't fall asleep, so I’m writing to you instead. And no, it wasn’t our baby girl who kept me up. I’ve had the worst heartburn these days. And Tums don’t do shit. They say that means that our daughter will come out with a full head of hair. I say that I'd take a bald baby in exchange for better sleep.

My baby shower is in a few days. Next weekend. Emma and Phoenix said that it was going to be relatively small, and I hope that they stick to it. I’m not really in the mood to see a lot of people anymore.

I yelled at Bradley the other day for making an omelet with three eggs because he left an egg in the carton without a 'friend' because he left an egg alone in its row since there was an odd number of eggs. Apparently, I kept crying about it for a while, but in all honesty, I don’t really remember much of that conversation. I’m pretty sure that Bradley’s keeping his distance now. You probably would have enjoyed seeing his face.

I asked for a little box at my baby shower to put name suggestions in. I’m running out of ideas. I keep worrying that we’re going to name her something stupid.

Baby girl is growing bigger, and I can’t believe that I’m still going to get fatter. I’m struggling to grab things off of the floor now. Maverick got me one of those grabby things that old people use. You would probably find it hilarious.

I love you. I miss you. I’ll write to you tomorrow.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

“Thank you,” you told Emma as she handed you a lemonade.

Emma and Penny took you out for the day to spend some time out of Mav’s house. You were growing increasingly less interested in leaving your 'nest,' as Bradley nicknamed it, and they were trying their best to get you motivated to go out and continue to live your life.

You had done some shopping for a dress to wear to your baby shower and now the three of you were getting a snack before you’d head over to the Hard Deck for the rest of the afternoon. You chatted for a moment before you sighed, slowly got to your feet, and grabbed your purse from your chair.

“Bathroom?” Emma asked you.

“Where else?” you joked, walking off.

A few minutes later, as you were washing your hands at the sink, you looked up when another woman stepped inside the bathroom. You offered her a friendly smile before her familiarity suddenly struck you. Quickly drying your hands, you reached for your bag and turned to leave. But the woman stood directly in your path.

She had stripes of gray cutting through what appeared to be deep auburn hair. She carried herself with a sense of purpose. And an expensive handbag. She reminded you of some of the women you used to see at the country club that you worked at in college. The type who turned a blind eye when their pig husbands made some demeaning comment to the women on staff and were never seen without some kind of drink in their perfectly manicured hands.

“You know who I am?” Georgia Seresin asked softly.

You stared her down, gripping the strap of you bag tightly. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, and you could practically feel the rhythm in your ears. Taking a breath and releasing it, you tilted your chin up and narrowed your eyes at her.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded quietly, looking around the small public bathroom. No one else was in there except for the two of you. “Are you stalking me?”

“I came to California when my son didn’t respond to my letter.”

“I wonder why?” you wondered sarcastically.

“What did he tell you?”

“Everything,” you stated firmly. “Which is why I would appreciate it if you stopped acting like it was just a coincidence that you ran into me here, hundreds of miles from your home, when Jake is conveniently deployed.” You paused for a moment before repeating through gritted teeth, “Why are you here?”

“To talk to you. About my son.”

“What about your son?”

“I know that your child isn’t here yet, but when they’re born, perhaps you can understand how much pain it could cause a mother to miss out on their child’s wedding or the process of them expecting their first child. From a mother to a mother—”

“—I’m going to stop you right there.”

You tried to keep your tears of anger in as you thought about Jake’s expression when he told you about his childhood. When you thought about the pain that you could hear in his tone, that you could feel radiating off of him.

“Because a woman who calls herself a mother would never do the things that you did. You stole him from a poor girl who loved him. You lied to her, promising that you would take care of him and love him. And then you turned around and fed him to the wolves." Nostrils flaring and angry tears threatening to fall, you added, "Did you ever even tell him that you loved him?"

“Of course, we did,” she admonished.

“Did you? Did you tell him that you were proud of him? That you loved him no matter what happened?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice even. “Every night my mom told me that she loved me and that she was proud of me. How many times did you tell Jake that, Georgia? How is a child supposed to just know that if you don’t tell them?” Shaking your head as you let out a shaky breath, you turned back to her. “And just so you know, there won’t be a day where Jake doesn’t tell our child that he loves them. Not one.”

Georgia adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and pursed her lips together. Clearly, she wasn’t used to being spoken to in this manner, but you didn’t give a shit about her feelings.

“Did you come here to convince me to talk Jake into speaking to you again? To buy my baby from me? A combination of the two? Does your husband know that you’re here? Is he waiting outside?”

Georgia took another moment to compose herself from your questions. She glanced down at the rings on your finger before meeting your gaze again.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that Jake selected a woman as . . . outspoken as you,” Georgia stated, adjusting her handbag again. “No, my husband does not know that I’m here. And I’m not here to buy my grandchild. I’m here to try and get through to my son and I’ve realized that the best way to do that would be through you. The woman he married and is having a child of his own with.”

Your eyes flashed with annoyance at Georgia's words.

“I have no interest in having a relationship with you because Jake doesn’t have an interest in it.”

“There’s nothing I can do to persuade you to speak with him about me?” Georgia pressed, an edge of desperation in her tone.

“No, there’s not.”

“You would deny your child a set of grandparents?”

“I will protect my child from people who hurt their father.”

Forcing yourself to take a breath, you stared down Georgia for a moment. She looked far more pathetic than you knew she was comfortable with. Apparently, she thought that she would just waltz in, and you would agree with her without any pushback.

But she couldn't have been more wrong.

“You know, when Jake told me about his upbringing, I honestly felt a bit of sympathy for you, Georgia. Maybe you were convinced that being a rich housewife to a pathetic little man was a better life than being loved by a poor man. And I’m sure that your husband hasn’t been kind to you over the years.”

The rage flashed to the surface again as she turned away from you for a moment.

“But how could you look another woman in the eye and convince her to hand over an innocent baby to a man that you knew would be a horrible father? That you knew would hurt that baby?”

After a moment, you walked past Georgia, who did not move to block your path this time. You opened the door and strode out of there and you didn't dare look back. Trying to gather yourself, you looked up to see Emma and Penny a few steps away from you.

“Are you okay? We were getting worried," Emma questioned with clear concern.

“Fine. Let’s get going to the Hard Deck,” you stated, already turning towards the parking lot.

“What happened?” Penny asked, studying your expression. You didn’t reply and just kept marching towards the parking lot until Penny rested a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to slow down. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

“Jake’s mom walked into the bathroom,” you explained quietly, looking over your shoulder.

“What?"

“She knew where you were?” Penny asked urgently, looking around with a protective stare. Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, she encouraged you forward again. “Come on, let’s get going.”

~~~~~

Maverick’s face darkened after you finished with your explanation about what happened at the mall. Grabbing his phone, he got up from the table with a serious expression.

“I’m going to make a call,” he stated firmly. “They can’t stalk you and your child. I don’t care who the hell that they think they are in Texas. That’s not going to fly out here. That’s not going to continue.”

“Who are you calling?” you asked as Maverick walked off.

“An old contact. I’ll be right back.”

Penny told you to just let Mav make the call as the remaining four of you remained seated at the table. You twisted your engagement ring around your finger nervously, sharing a look with Emma and Bradley, who sat across from you.

“She didn’t try to hurt me—”

“—Doesn’t matter,” Bradley interjected quickly. “It’s creepy and it’s over the line and it’s going to stop. Now. Just let Mav make his call. He'll handle it.”

“I know,” you sighed, holding your head in your hands. “Jake is going to freak out when I tell him.”

“You’re going to tell him right away?”

“I can’t hide it from him. It might take me some time to find the words, but I have to tell him.”

Penny hugged you to her side and rubbed your back with her hand, giving you the maternal support that you really needed in that moment. You sighed and leaned against her, desperately wishing that Jake would be home soon.

“Everything will be alright. We’re going to figure this out.”

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I hope that everything is running smoothly where you are. And that you read this email sooner rather than later.

Penny and Emma took me to the shops yesterday and when I was trying to leave the bathroom, I ran into your mother. She came up from Texas and she told me that she wanted to talk to me about you. Said something about using me to convince you to talk to her again. I told her that I wasn’t interested in that because you weren’t interested in that. She let me leave after that.

I don’t want to stress you out or make you feel like you have to do anything when you’re so far away, but I wanted to be honest with you. Mav’s made a few calls and he seems to think that he has a solution. Don’t stress about us, just focus on your mission and coming home safely in one piece.

We love you, Jake. And we’re safe, we’re fine. And we miss you.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Folding some fresh laundry in Maverick's house a few days later, you looked up when you heard your phone buzz. An unknown number was calling you and despite your hesitation, you answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Honey.”

“Jake?” you whispered out shakily, holding a hand to your mouth. Moving to sit, you tried to calm yourself down and not just simply sob. “How are you calling me?”

“I have my ways,” Jake replied teasingly. Growing more serious, he asked, “Are you alright?”

“We’re fine, Jake.”

“I’m so sorry, Honey. She never should have been anywhere near the two of you.”

“We’re fine,” you repeated softly. “She didn’t threaten us. If anyone was threatening anyone, it was me.”

“That’s my wife,” Jake praised, causing you to smile bashfully. “But my father wasn’t there, right? It was just my mother?”

“Yeah. She said that he didn’t know that she was there, and I didn’t see him around.”

“Good. I’ll deal with them when I get home.”

“Okay.” After a moment you asked, “How much longer do you have?”

“Less than a minute. I’m sorry, Honey, I just needed to know that the two of you were okay. They thought that I was having some kind of stroke when I read your email and I managed to convince them to let me call you.”

“At least one good thing came out of the whole shitshow,” you sighed, resting a hand on your bump. “I love—”

You froze when you felt your daughter press her foot against your hand. Jake felt his heart leap into his throat when you cut yourself off and stop talking without a clear reason.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“She’s kicking,” you whispered softly.

“What?”

“Jake, she’s kicking. Our daughter is kicking!”

“She’s kicking?”

“Yes, she’s kicking,” you laughed, before your joy dimmed and tears pooled in your eyelids. Sniffling, you croaked out, “I love you so much, Jake. We love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I miss you so fucking much, Honey. And I’m so sorry that I’m not there.”

“Hangman, time’s up,” Jake heard from behind him, causing him to look over his shoulder.

“I’ve got to go, Honey,” he replied, grinding his jaw to try and stave off the tears. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Bye, Jake.”

The line went dead, and you slowly placed your phone down. Holding your hand to your mouth, you finally let out your sobs. And about a thousand emotions that you'd tried keeping in ever since Jake was forced to leave you.

Your daughter was finally kicking, but her father wasn’t here to feel her. And the thought only made you sob harder.

Back on the carrier, Jake rubbed the tears that leaked from his eyes.

He missed it. He fucking missed it. He missed his daughter kicking for the first time. He wasn’t there when his mother showed up out of nowhere and accosted you in a public bathroom. He wasn’t going to be there for your baby shower.

Jake had anticipated that deploying while you were heavily pregnant was going to be difficult. But he didn’t realize that it was going to be impossible, killing him slowly from the inside out.

“Hangman?”

“I’m coming,” Jake called back, clearing his throat. “I’m coming.”

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businessbloggs · 1 year

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Nail less boxes in india – Newel packaging

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bitchfitch · 5 months

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After years and years of having a schedule that was more a halfhearted shrug than a neat itinerary, there was a certain peace to finally having a dinner time routine.

Rice in the cooker, wild game cuts in the oven with whatever vegetables hadn't gone off since his last trip into town. The timer set for ten minutes longer than the meal ever actually needed. His stomach couldn't handle meat still pink with a memory of life anymore.

While it cooked he'd place a tarp before the back door. The blue plastic wrinkled along the lines by which he always found it folded.

Then he'd step out into the cool evening to where his freshest trophy would be hanging just beyond the edge of the creaky porch. It a was a deer today, it's back hooves tied to the rafter so it's blood could drain from the dainty gash across it's throat. This wasn't a necessity, it just lessened the mess he would eventually have to deal with.

He untied it, and carried it to rest it in the center of the tarp before pulling the corners up to encase it in crinkly darkness. The bright green climbing rope being used to bind the package closed while he made a note to himself to dig out the hank of rope again so he could cut a new, less gnawed on, piece for tomorrow's meal time.

He could hear the thing coming up the staircase from the basement. Stairs were difficult for it, always had to crawl up them on its hands and knees. Stopping every few steps to gather itself against vertigo.

"What's cooking?" it called in a chipper voice, its bruise darkened fingers scrabling at the lower edge of the door. Its cracked nails adding to the deep gouges in the old wood. "What's cooking?" it repeated like a scratched record. Its clawing growing more frenzied as it got more and more excited at the prospect of meal time.

"Deer." he responded, dragging the bundle to the locked door.

"Einer!" it said, its voice being stolen from a long gone day at the lake, "Home," it whined with defeat borrowed from a day it never saw, then a garbled growl as it's limited repertoire of echos ran up against a concept it didn't have the words to express.

"You know that's not how it works," Einer sighs with some glimmer of fondness. "Who am I?"

"Einer!" a perfect echo of what it had said before.

"Where are we?"

"Home."

"Who are you?"

The growl came on its cue, exactly as it had every miserable day since Einer managed to trap it and establish this little test of whether or not it might be able to be reasoned with today.

"Good, good. To your spot please."

It scrambled back down the stairs, heavy thunks sounding as its excited crawling turned into more of a controlled series of falls.

Then a loud metallic racket bounded forth from the vent slats in the floor as it slapped at the ancient pipe that connected the furnace to the rest of the cabin's mostly defunct air ducts. Their way of signaling when it was well and clear away from the stairs where it might damn them both by attacking its caretaker.

He undid the bolts on the door quickly yanking it open before kicking the plastic wrapped deer down the stairs and slamming the door shut again. The unspoken race between them commencing as he rushed to get the bolts and locks latched once more before it could get up the stairs in an opportunity fueled bout of blood frenzy.

Einer won today. He's won every day so far.

Its fingers appear under the edge of the door again, its breath ragged and sounding wet with too much spit as it uselessly dug into the steel toe of his boot.

"You know where your dinner is," he took a step and waited to see if he'd be granted one moment of clarity as it came down from it's frenzy.

It churred, a soft animal sound he didn't think something so human looking should be able to make. Its fingers stilled, then disappeared back into the darkness beyond the door before returning. Its hand palm side up this time.

He was quick to crouch, carefully curling his fingers against it's. Its skin porcelain, smooth and cold against the callouses he had earned in his time caring for it.

"Einer," it said, this echo being taken from a gentle memory of two lovers in their wedding bed, before its touch disappeared and it began its clumzy trek back down the stairs.

He always stayed knelt there a little too long, wondering if it knew he lingered there. If it cared. Before standing and checking to see if his meal was over done to his liking.

#animal death #einers husband came back wrong and he Adapted instead of being a whiner about it #Get you a man on his level

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xzaddyzanakinx · 6 months

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| So, So Right | pt.1

Stepbro! Anakin Skywalker x Innocent Reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: eventual smut, inappropriate relationships

Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, Not Profread

It had been almost 4 months since your world was shattered and the pieces were glued haphazardly back together. Everything had happened alarmingly fast, one day it was just you and your mother, the next she was bringing home a stranger. He was nice, he made your mom happy and that was enough of a reason for you to love him as well.

That was until one night Obi-Wan and your mother came in to the living room where you sat typing away on your laptop for a college class. Obi-Wan cleared his throat to catch your attention, once you looked up and saw the nervous smiles on their faces you got a nauseous feeling in your stomach.

“Can we talk for a second?” Your mother asked tentatively, almost afraid to ask.

“Yeah sure. What’s up?” You raised an eyebrow and carefully put your laptop on the coffee table.

“We’ve decided it’s time for you to meet my son.” Obi-Wan smiled, “the year is almost over, he will be coming home for the summer.”

Your mind spun, this could mean the end of your normalcy. This was a serious step, of course you knew he had a son, but you had never even spoken to him, much less seen him.

“That’s a couple weeks away. Uh- well thanks for telling me?” You said confused.

“Yes but, honey, look at me.” Your mother’s sweet and calming voice pierced through the fog attempting to form in your mind. “He’s coming to visit this weekend!”

“Like this weekend? As in tomorrow?” You asked, standing up abruptly.

“Yes, he will be here tomorrow afternoon. We want to take you both out to dinner.” Obi-Wan nodded, reaching out to encourage you to walk over.

“Okay,” you forced a smile, trying to hide your nervousness, “what’s his favorite desert?”

Obi-Wan chuckled, pulling you into an embrace where you were sandwiched between him and your mother.

“Blondies.” He whispered and gave you an affectionate shoulder squeeze.

You tossed and turned all night, unable to get comfortable and desperate to turn your thoughts off. You so badly wanted to make a good impression on him. You knew enough about him to know he played Lacrosse, he was such a good player and had so much passion for it that he had considered majoring in sports management. Though quickly realized engineering and mechanics was the perfect fit for him. He was tall and pretty, a scar across his eye from his teenage years. That was it, that was all you had. Plus the fact you now knew he liked Blondies.

So the moment your alarm had went off you rolled out of bed and got to work. Baking was your passion, culinary school was the perfect fit for you. You dreamed of opening a pastry shop, and you used every spare minute to hone your skills. The process was easy, cookie dough and brownie batter, slap it all in a pan and throw it in the oven.

Now that you’d taken them out to cool, you found yourself restless and incapable of sitting still. This was going to be a long day.

Over the next few hours you packaged away the Blondies in a cute pastry box with a pink tag that you’d written ‘Anakin’ in beautiful calligraphy, showered and watched a few episodes of your favorite show, and now you sat at your vanity.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, hyping yourself up to meet the most important person in Obi-Wan’s life. Carefully applying your makeup, not too much, just enough to accentuate your natural features and lengthen your eyelashes. Painting your nails and nude-ish pink and slipping on a soft baby blue dress with matching shoes.

Descending the stairs while your hair flowed gracefully down your back in loose curls. Obi-Wan and your mother sat at the kitchen table chatting, immediately looking up when you entered the room.

“Oh! You look lovely!” Your mother clapped her hands and her lips curved into a genuine smile.

“Beautiful.” Obi-Wan beamed, he had really taken to the roll of father figure for you, and it showed in moments like these. He treated you as his own flesh and blood.

The car ride went quickly, and soon you were entering the restaurant. Watching the crowd from the waiting room, in fitted black dress pants and a black button-up stood a sandy haired boy. Obi-Wan rushed over and clapped a hand on his back, pulling him into a crushing hug. You stood with your mother, watching the scene unfold with adoration.

“Ani!” Obi-Wan outstretched his arms to gesture to you. “Here she is!”

His gaze lingered on your face before traveling down and back up, his cheeks a bit pink and his eyes wide.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you again Satine.” He nodded and took your mothers hand between his two large ones.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you.” Anakin turned to you, his height making you feel smaller than before. You introduced yourself as Anakin seemed to drink in every word.

The hostess soon called for your party, and brought you to a large round table near a floor to ceiling window. The view was gorgeous and the table setting was just as elegant. The dinner was going smoothly, Anakin was easy to get along with. He seemed genuinely interested in everything you said, you were so relieved that you didn’t even notice the hunger in his gaze.

That had been weeks ago, and it felt like an eternity. The dinner ended with a bombshell of an announcement, Obi-Wan and your mother were engaged to be married.

Now Anakin had moved in, the wedding date was set and Obi-Wan had put his house on the market. Your room was right next to Anakin’s, and you had a shared bathroom connecting the rooms. You didn’t mind, in fact you quite enjoyed being so close to him.

The friendship had blossomed beautifully, spending time with Anakin was your new favorite thing. He kept you company when you were flitting about the kitchen with your apron covered in flour, helped you with chores, read to you at night and he even walked through the neighborhood with you and quickly discovered your fear of the large dog at the end of the cul-de-sac when you practically jumped into his arms when it barked at you. He didn’t make fun of you like you expected, he held you to his chest and whispered calming words until you were ready to continue, after that his hand was practically glued to yours in a comforting grasp at all times.

Today was the beginning of his new summer job, he’d be working at the local car shop as a mechanic, he was absolutely ecstatic. Of course you were equally excited for him, but you held a bit of worry in your heart, what would you do all day without him here?

“Goodmorning princess,” he called from the shared bathroom, you almost always kept your doors open so you could easily get to his room and vice versa.

You hopped up quickly and rushed to sit on the bathroom sink while he brushed his teeth. He greeted you with a sleepy kiss to your forehead, leaving a soft smile on your lips.

“Are you excited?” You asked.

“So excited.” He grinned, spitting toothpaste foam into the sink and rinsing it down.

“Good! I-I’ll bring you some lunch okay?” You said.

“Perfect. I’d miss you too much if you didn’t.” He gathered you up in his arms, hooking his forearms under your thighs to hold you close to his chest while you wrapped your legs around him, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder. He walked you over to his bedroom, gently laying you in his still-warm sheets.

“Ani?” You asked as you watched him strip from his pajama pants and sleep shirt.

“What is it babe?” He asked as he walked to his closet in just his boxers.

“What am I supposed to do all day while you’re gone?” Your lip stuck in a pout.

“We talked about this,” he said gently, sliding a white shirt over his head and throwing some jeans on the bed before making his way to you.

“I’ll be back everyday at 5:00. You’ll have from 8:00 to 5:00 to do whatever you want! Call up one of your friends, see if they want to set up a weekly hang out or something.”

He carefully tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, you could see the pain in his eyes at the thought of you being upset.

“I know. I will.” You sighed, scooting closer to rest your head on his knee.

“I gotta do this to get the experience, so I can open my own garage. How else am I gonna make sure you get that big cake shop hmm?” He caressed your cheek with his thumb, making you nod in agreement.

“You’ll see me at lunch, and once I get home, I’ll take you out to see a movie. How that sound?” He asked, taking notice of your sour expression.

You perked up at the thought, it had been a while since you’d been to the theater.

“Yes! That would make up for it I think.” You said playfully.

“Good. Now I gotta go before you convince me to stay.” He laughed, smoothing your hair and standing up.

Throwing on his jeans and a belt before tugging on his brand new pair of work boots. He took one last look at you, pressing his lips to his thumb and transferring the kiss to your bottom lip in a gentle swipe. He left you there, alone in his room. His blankets smothered you with his scent and you slowly let yourself fall asleep.

You groggily awoke to the feeling of the mattress being weighted down. A gentle hand shaking your leg to get your attention. Your sleep filled eyes barely registered the figure at the foot of the bed, Obi-Wan. You rubbed your eyes with your knuckles as he spoke.

“What’re you doing in here?” He asked.

“I came to tell Anakin bye and I fell asleep.” You laughed, sitting up.

“You almost had me worried,” he smiled, “I didn’t see you in your room when I stopped to tell you that your mom left for work and I was on my way out.”

“Sorry!” Your eyes widened, “oh I didn’t even think- I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay, don’t apologize.” He stood up, getting ready to leave. “Have a good day!” He called as he left the room.

Once you gathered the energy to pull yourself out of the cocoon you’d made in Anakin’s bed, you headed downstairs to make yourself breakfast and to assemble a bag lunch for Anakin.

You called a few friends, only one being free every week. Your childhood friend Ashley was more than happy to have a standing date with you every Thursday, she seemed excited to spend more time with you. As you ended the call you hopped into your car and set on your way to Anakin’s new job.

You stepped out onto the pavement with your old beat-up sneakers and shorts with a black crop top. The ground around you practically sizzled from the heat and you quickly made your way inside into the sweet relief of air conditioning. You strode up to the desk and tapped the bell on the counter, a man came out from the back after a few seconds.

“What can I do for you missy?” His voice was gruff and his shirt was stained beyond repair.

“I’m Anakin’s step-sister, I brought him lunch.” You lifted up the bag and smiled.

“Right, he told me you’d be coming.” He smirked, taking in your appearance before turning on his heel and yanking open a side door.

“Skywalker! Your girl is here.” He shouted, and moments later Anakin came rushing through the door, unzipping his work jumpsuit so that it hung from his hips, his white undershirt covered in sweat.

“There she is!” He grinned, enveloping you in a tight hug, breaking the embrace to place a possessive hand on the small of your back, leading you outside and back to your car.

“How is it? Is it fun? Do you like the people? Who was that guy? Is he your boss?” Your rapid fire questions had Anakin laughing as he cracked open his can of Pepsi.

“Slow down,” he grinned, pulling out his sandwich and chips. “Yes, it’s fun and all the people are super nice. And yes, that man is my boss, his name is Gary.”

“He doesn’t mind that I’m gonna be here everyday does he?” You asked.

“No, I told him you’d be bringing me lunch. He’s fine with it, gave me a teasin’ though.” He laughed.

“Why?” You questioned confused.

“Ah no big deal, he’s just jealous that I’ve got such a sweetheart like you.” His hand found yours and his thumb brushed your knuckles lovingly. “Thought it was weird my step-sis tolerated me enough to bring me food.”

“Huh? That’s mean!” You huffed, “I don’t tolerate you, I love you!”

“I know baby. I know.” He brought your knuckles to his lips and placed a chaste kiss there before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Guess I’m just lucky.” He shrugged with a teasing smirk.

You watched with adoration as he downed his food, he was starving, as if this was the only thing he’d eaten in days.

“I’m gonna have to pack you more tomorrow.” You said, dusting crumbs off his shirt. “Do you need me to bring you a snack? Are you still hungry?”

“I’ll be alright for today, we’ll just get some food before the movie tonight.” He said, taking his palm to your cheek.

He stared, his pupils blown wide as he gazed down at you leaning into his palm. He was always so soft and gentle with you, he made you feel so loved.

“C’mere.” He whispered, cradling your head now between both hands as he drew your face closer. Pressing a kiss to your nose and then to your forehead. “Thank you for always bein’ so sweet to me.”

“You deserve it.” You grinned, quickly pecking him on the cheek. “You should probably get back.”

“I know.” He sighed, putting his trash into the lunch bag and setting it in the floor board of the car.

His gaze lingered on your lips, and quickly shot over to the garage doors, all four were shut and so was the public entrance. He shook his head slightly.

“What’s wrong Ani?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing princess. Just thinking.” His voice was soft. “I love you.”

“I love you!” You responded happily, throwing your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck. A soft groan escaped his mouth at the feeling of your lips grazing accidentally across the sensitive skin.

Anakin’s head swam as he thought to himself, about the last few weeks, the way you so willingly gave him affection, how you didn’t seem to realize how your touch affected him, that you didn’t seem to understand that the attachment between the two of you was far from normal. He should be ashamed, taking advantage of your innocence like this, you didn’t know any better. He should be disgusted with his actions, with his anything but pure thoughts. But he couldn’t help himself. You were you, and that was enough of a reason for him to throw his morals and better judgment out the window.

He made a decision right then, with your arms around him and his lips pressed against the crown of your head. He was yours, you were his.

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#anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #darth vader #darth vader smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #starwars fandom #anakin skywalker x you #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #Stepbro!anakin

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koocycle · 1 year

Text

over wine | jjk | teaser part one

↳ synopsis. designer dresses, spa weekends and rare wines are no longer enough to keep your marriage afloat. with your husband gone from home and a marriage standing on shaky grounds, you stumble back to your neglected career in the hopes it’ll fulfill the void in your life. you’re ready to take the risk this time, whether that is with the emerald cut diamond around your ring finger, or without.

over cocktails and dior-bowed roses.

pairing. husband! jungkook x ex-model! fem reader

teaser word count. 2k

estimated word count. 35k+

au + genre. rich couple! au, established relationship! au, married couple! au, semi sugar daddy! au, suburban couple! au, angst, fluff and smut.

teaser warnings. mild cursing, suggestive and mature themes

send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

series masterlist

released on thursday, july 6th 2023.

Jeon Jungkook must be easy to love.

You figure he is, because anywhere the well-dressed man goes, curious eyes follow. Though you find it hard to pinpoint what exactly it is that makes the man so lovable in the eyes of your friends and neighbors. Your husband owns a great sense of fashion, in his defense. If we’re talking 10-minute trips to the only supermarket available in town, where the man makes sure his hair is slicked back and the first few buttons of his blouse are undone, then yes, Jungkook might have hit the bull's eye. It’s noticeable on people’s faces no matter where his feet carry him. Take the red-haired divorcée across the street for example, whose skirts get shorter each time she comes out to get her mail. Or take the head of the community garden every Saturday morning, who stoops a little lower each time she plucks another stock of radishes from her dirty, little yard.

Long story short, the man who got voted to grow the ‘’reddest tomatoes the neighborhood has ever seen’‘, is considered one of the hottest men on the block. Not like it ends there when he carries his good attitude with him no matter the day. As a beloved one who drives off to the office no matter the rush he’s in, Jungkook makes sure to slow the speed down and send a sweet wave to the elderly couple at the end of the street. After business hours, he would find lost mail in his letterbox, wrong packages at his porch, and missing kittens hidden in the trimmed bushes of his backyard. Yes, great guess; Jungkook in formal attire makes sure they find their way back to the rightful owner before it turns dark out. A smile on his face that’s sweeter than the candied apples he gifted Kim Namjoon’s 7-year-old the other day.

Yes, Jeon Jungkook from number 09 is the neighborhood’s heartthrob.

What is there not to love about your beloved Jungkook?

Perhaps his despicable wife?

‘‘You might want to lose the attitude before she comes back.’’ It is the first thing your husband says that is directed towards you, breaking the tense silence like nails scraping against a chalkboard. There’s a large gap between the both of you on the rather firm sofa and the silence you grant him does little to calm either of you down. The two-seater isn’t a very broad piece of furniture on itself, though it seems bigger when each of you is seated at the opposite arms. Glued to them like teenagers who got into a fight in the lunch cafeteria in between classes. You watch Jungkook slump down his seat in the corner of your eye, an arm resting over the edge in a way that makes his Blancpain watch shimmer prettily around his thick wrist.

‘‘Attitude?’’ You end up asking, glossed lips pursed together.

‘‘You know what I’m talking about.’’ He says flatly. Jungkook sounds like he couldn’t bother any less, but truth be told, the tight pause in his defense betrays him. His eyes fall to your folded arms and travel lower down your bare, crossed legs after. ‘‘You look like you don’t want to be here at all.” The Versace dress he got you hugs your hips just the way it’s supposed to and rides higher up your thigh with every minor movement you proceed to make. Ruby red polyester clashes with the neutrals in the room and you definitely seem like you don’t belong in such a formal setting, but fuck, he would have you bent over Mrs. Kang’s desk with your dress hunched around your waist if he weren’t supposed to be an angry fuck now.

You scoff at his foolish accusation. “Please, Jungkook,” a humorless chuckle dies down on your tongue when you can’t find it in you to fake it. “I was the one who had to beg you to clear your schedule for today’s appointment in the first place.”

“Then act like it. Don’t just sit here and sulk.” He bites like he had his response ready and set. Sharp eyes meet yours. “You’re acting like a child, pouting like it’s gonna get us anywhere. Seulgi is here to help us sort our shit out. At least let her do her damn job.”

Jungkook’s head slowly lolls to the back of the ivory-colored sofa when it’s off his chest, a puff of air leaving his lips like today’s session got him exhausted before it could even make its start. His eyes fall to a close as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The sight of it only makes the tight knot in your stomach grow and you can’t seem to tear your eyes off the heated man, a snarl on your lips you wish he’d notice.

“I told you, I want a second opinion.”

“And I told you, we’re not going through the hassle of finding another therapist when we got a fine one just under our nose.” Jungkook’s jaw tenses and he slumps down the sofa some more. “Give her time. She’s analyzing our relationship.”

His words trigger something inside you. They make you sit on the edge of your seat with heat rushing to your head, the Valentino Garavani mini bag falling off your lap and onto the cushions at the movement. “How much of an analysis does she need when we visit two times a week?” Your eyes fall on him. “Open your eyes, Kook. She always asks for my opinion and uses it against me a minute later. She is always on your side. We need a second opinion.”

“Just fucking drop it.” He mumbles to himself though he swears it’s for your own good. Also because the waiting area is only a door away and he doesn’t want to walk out of the heated office with judging eyes on him like last time. The walk of shame back to the car must have been the highlight of your visit. “I’m not gonna run around town and find you a straight, male therapist who’s blindly gonna agree with you the minute you flash him half a boob. Wasting our money like it’s nothing.”

Jungkook regrets saying that as soon as it’s out. He didn’t have to say that, he figures. Though when he’s met with silence and catches the roll of your eyes on his side, the pang of guilt disappears as soon as it came. You didn’t come here to argue here with him. Quite the opposite, considering your surroundings. Though it is getting hard to block that road when you aren’t one to bite your tongue either. “Of course you won’t. You love it when people suck on your dick.”

He should have seen that one coming. And he knows either one of you needs to stop barking back if you want to see any progress throughout your sessions with Mrs. Kang. Jungkook could be the bigger person if he wanted to be, but his egoism is rocket high. ‘’Say that again?’’

You fall to the back of the sofa as well, mirroring him with your arms crossed tight against your chest. “Seulgi is sucking you dry and you’re eating it up.” You mutter with gritted teeth. “Always picking your side, always defending you. . . you’re loving it and you can’t get enough.”

Jungkook says nothing and just listens to your quiet, angry mumbles at first. To him, you’re almost whining the words out like it’s going to get you anywhere. And maybe it would if the circumstances would be any different. If you weren’t forced to kill time in an empty office waiting for your couple’s therapist to return with your preferred coffee and biscuits. Kang Seulgi knows the deal by now; you like your spiced chai latte and he likes his shot of espresso so bitter that it sits on his tongue for the rest of the session.

He continues to watch you. Examine you, in some way. The sound of your rambling drawing out the more he loses himself in his own world. Issues roll off your tongue like you’re reading them off a long, unending list, and he feels like you’ve argued about these same things over and over again. Too many times for him to keep his focus when your breasts are pressed together so prettily in that dress.

You’ve had it for a while, Jungkook then recalls. A couple of years at most, but he remembers the day he bought it for you like it was last week. Initially, you told him no; you didn’t need him to buy you a dress for a price so ridiculous. He could buy you an extra large salmon bagel for lunch and you’d be the happiest woman in the room, is what you tried to convince him of. Though your eyes glimmered with adoration the minute you entered the store and held the designer piece in your hands. Moments after swearing you only wanted to see it up close and get a good feel. He remembers loving that glimmer in your eyes.

He wanted to see it more often, so Jeon Jungkook got you that Versace dress like it was nothing. You yelled and shrieked at him through the entire checkout and earned some nasty glances from the saleswomen, but he didn’t mind. He could take a hit from you. If a simple swipe of his card meant he’d see that look more often, then yes, Jungkook was willing to sell his soul for you.

“Are you even listening?” He doesn’t notice the corners of his lips slipping up until you tug him out of his daze. The apples of his cheeks show as quick as they die down.

“Yeah,” Jungkook groans and sits up straight. “I hear you. You’re just not making any sense, babe.”

Jungkook often finds several ways to make you roll your eyes and tighten your jaw, though he rarely makes you fume with steam blowing out of your ears.

Today is one of the days where he makes you fume with steam. He can tell by the way you avoid his eye in the hopes you won’t go all feral on him. Or how your glossed lips pettily press together, the Dior Addict lip oil one step away in your lip-combo routine from cussing him out until your voice goes hoarse.

You huff quietly, clearly holding back. “How am I not making sense? You’re not listening to a word I say.”

“I listen. You just have a hard time understanding me.”

It’s a thing you guys do, the finger-point thing. And it is something you do a lot. It’s a thing where either of you hopes that the other backs up when you point for long enough. A healthy relationship doesn’t work like that, is what Seulgi told you during your last session. As if you didn’t already know. But old habits are hard to get rid of, and certainly when it comes to you two, where someone else has to lose in order to win.

You didn’t think of her words as useful and made sure to voice the complaints about your newly found couple’s therapist the entire ride back home. Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure what to do with your critical feedback. The entire session, he was just waiting for Seulgi to hand him that step-by-step handbook to a successful marriage, which he hoped was attached to her clipboard. But he knew she wouldn’t have made it so easy for you even if she had it. Not with the amount of money he pays her per session. Because if we’re going to be honest, then no, Jungkook didn’t get Seulgi either. But he was willing to learn from her and understand her. Unlike you, who just sat there and might as well have filed and groomed your nails while you were at it.

Maybe you’re scared of whatever is yet to come, he ponders. Maybe you think you’re better off than whatever the future has planned out for you and Jungkook. He doesn’t know, and he can’t figure you out either.

full version, date of release july 6th 2023.

taglist: @codeinebelle @cxcotin @hrts4kook

please send me an ask to be added to the list.

#jungkook #jungkook teaser #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jjk #koocycle

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dfortrafalgar · 29 days

Text

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader)

Red-Leg Zeff wakes up to surprising visitors.

You can read Part 1 here! Original AO3 link

Days on the open ocean were long and monotonous. It was a decent struggle to keep track of the sunrises and sunsets, but Red-Leg Zeff had developed a system, very recently at that.

Next to a parchment letter and three photographs he nailed to the wall of his captain’s quarters, he tacked up a separate piece of paper and made a tally mark for each day that passed since he received the small parcel. Each day that went by was another day of inwardly hoping to see the image of the Thousand Sunny off the deck of the Baratie. It was wishful thinking, and Zeff was a level-headed man, not one for futile hopes or daydreaming, but could you blame him? He had a grandchild and a daughter-in-law, all things considered, anyway.

The three photographs that Sanji had sent in the package were what greeted him every time he awoke, and were the last images he saw behind his eyelids as he shut in for sleep. As the days turned into weeks, and then months, and now well over a year according to his tallies, and as Zeff’s braided facial hair continued to slowly turn gray at the roots, the pictures stayed the same.

Like clockwork, Zeff rose from his stiff mattress before the sun rose in the morning, stretching his aging muscles and groaning. He gazed off across the room at the photos hung on his wall.

“Good morning, Sa–”

“CAPTAIN ZEFF, YOU’RE NEEDED ON THE BOW.”

Patty’s booming voice outside the thin wooden door sent a startled shockwave through Zeff. He jumped and yelped at the commotion. Followed by the command, a pounding on the door caused the blonde man to grumble and stomp across his small cabin towards the noise. He swung open the door, right before Patty threw his fist into the wood for the hundredth time.

“What in the fresh hell do you want? You’re gonna wake up the whole crew, you oaf.” Zeff rubbed two calloused fingertips against the bridge of his wrinkled nose.

Eagerly, with a light in his eyes, Patty waved a hand in the direction of the ship’s bow. “There’s a large vessel spotted approaching from northwest, about ten miles away. It looks like a pirate ship but we couldn’t make out the image on the sail.”

Zeff stepped into his one boot and rolled up his pants around his peg-leg, making it easier for him to walk. He firmly gripped his chef’s cap in his hand as he marched past Patty and closed his door behind the two of them, leading him out to the front of the Baratie. It took them a few moments to roam down the flights of stairs to the lower deck and dining hall, and upon opening the large double doors to the outer deck, he spotted his kitchen crew huddled around Carne, who firmly gripped a pair of binoculars in his large hands.

“What are you all doing?” Zeff’s voice boomed over the hushed whispers of the kitchen staff, who quickly turned their heads to address their captain. He pushed past the men and placed a firm hand on Carne’s shoulder, yanking him back slightly and grabbing the binoculars out of his hands, holding them up to his own eyes.

“It’s definitely a pirate ship, Captain, but my eyes are shot,” Carne eagerly noted. Zeff merely grumbled in response.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the binocular lenses, but when they did he managed to make out a fairly clear picture of a ship in the distance, now well less than ten miles away and approaching quite rapidly. Definitely a large pirate ship. It had a very odd looking nautical figurehead, almost like a sunflower he assumed, but his heart leaped into his throat when his blurry eyes focused on the primary sail which flowed outward, fully unraveled and pushing the vessel towards the Baratie.

A simple Jolly Roger, a rudimentary skull and crossbones design, with a peculiar red-banded straw hat placed on the head of the skull.

“Should we man the–” Patty began to ask, before being cut off by Zeff.

“It’s the Straw Hats. Prepare the mooring ropes and fenders, they’re going to tie up to us.” Zeff shoved the binoculars back into the chest and hands of Carne, who once again put them to his face and gazed at the sail of the ship. The rest of the kitchen staff ran to awaken the boat crew and make the necessary preparations for a vessel connection.

“Sanji?” Patty simply asked, with sudden wonder in his voice.

“Hopefully,” Carne responded, passing the binoculars to his coworker. “It’s definitely them. Look at their Jolly Roger.”

Zeff had turned his back to his two right-hand men to help the others prepare the baratie’s starboard side for the tie-up. Crew men, freshly shaken awake from their slumbers, bustled around the lower deck tossing heavy, tightly coiled ropes to each other, tying them around the deck’s bollards and laying them down to make them easier to access when the Thousand Sunny would pull up alongside. Zeff quickly found that there wasn’t much for him to do, the sight of his crew excitedly scurrying around as the news of the Straw Hats’ return to the Baratie spread like wildfire from the mouths of the men bringing a fond smile to the old man’s face.

Now within enough distance to the Straw Hats’ ship that they could hear the excited yelling of their captain perched cross-legged on the top of the figurehead, waving his hand in the air. A few of the other crew members leaned over the side of the ship, excitedly waving to the Baratie crew. Once close enough, a large, strangely built blue-haired man launched a heavy rope from the deck of the Sunny downwards towards the Baratie’s crew, who grabbed it and began to pull it taught. An orange-haired woman (Zeff thought she looked familiar) instructed the sails to be furled while the larger men of the ship helped the Baratie’s sailors moor the two vessels together. A few stragglers from the floating restaurants crew looked through their portholes at the commotion. Carne and Patty assisted the blue-haired man (were his arms made of metal?) in raising a gangway for the Straw Hats to board the Baratie, but their captain, still donned in the same straw hat that he wore when they first visited the luxury cruiser, wasted no time in launching himself off of the figurehead and landing with a hard thud on the wooden deck.

“Hey, Geezer!” His smile almost covered his entire face. “Do you have any food?”

“Luffy, seriously? Can you not wait a single minute?”

A familiar voice caused Zeff to turn his head. Through the hustle of the crews finishing their mooring duties, a head of bright blonde hair and a thin trail of gray smoke met the old chef’s view. He immediately broke out into a fond smile. Sanji was leaning precariously over the side of the Sunny, any more and he would tip over the side, a large grin on his face. Next to him was a young woman, a bit shorter than him, with a steady hand placed on his shoulder ensuring that he didn’t fall overboard. She gazed down at Zeff, and her face broke into a grin just as large as Sanji’s.

He recognized her as the woman in the photographs. She was just as beautiful in person.

The gangway was successfully tied, joining the two boats together, and the two first mates excitedly welcomed the Straw Hats aboard the Baratie. The four who had already visited almost five years prior marveled at the impressive renovations done to the vessel. New decks, refurbished dining and lounging, impressive paintwork on the outer hull. The same blue-haired man from before (his arms were made of metal!) was starstruck by the craftsmanship of the restaurant and immediately began asking questions to a few of the crewmen. A green-haired man with three swords on his hip and a shorter man with curly black hair greeted Carne and Patty with excitement, remembering the two of them from their first visit. The two women from the Straw Hats, with tangerine and black hair, quickly exited the gangway and joined their companions. Zeff watched curiously as a skeleton donned in formalwear hauled himself over the side of the Sunny, followed by a fishman. The Straw Hats were a very curious bunch, but he was filled with a giddy, child-like joy at the sight of them all, healthy, fit, and just as excited as his own crew was for the surprise reunion.

Sanji and his wife disappeared from the side of the Sunny, but quickly reappeared. Sanji was the first to step onto the gangway before turning around and taking something from his wife, who swiftly followed his lead. She looked like a natural on the water, and Zeff hummed, pleased. Sanji turned around to march down the ramp, a child held in his arms, tightly gripping his shirt in her fist. The two were the last to disembark, and immediately headed toward the Baratie's captain, who stood in mild shock as the three approached.

Sanji passed the child back to his wife so he could greet Zeff with a handshake, but he was beaten by the captain’s speed as he enveloped the smaller man in a bear hug, almost lifting him off his feet.

“Sanji,” he muttered, voice quivering. “You look incredible.”

“Hey, no crying on me now, Zeff,” Sanji returned the gesture in kind, squeezing his adopted father back and jostling the hat on the older man’s head.

The two released their warm embrace, and Sanji held out a hand towards his wife and the child in her arms. The woman stepped forward with a warm smile.

“Red-Leg Zeff, it’s an honor to finally meet you!” she said with profound enthusiasm before introducing herself. “Sanji’s been talking nonstop about this visit and how excited he’s been to see you again!”

Sanji flushed, embarrassed, but Zeff could only muster a hardy laugh. He remembered Sanji as a stubborn, hard-to-crack kid, endlessly determined and stopping at nothing to get his way, and the man who stood before him was all of that and more. He was gazing tenderly at his wife, cheeks rosy with embarrassment and adoration, a smile adorning his thin lips. Zeff was beyond proud of the man Sanji had become.

“So, who’s this little one?” he asked, cautiously approaching the child in the woman’s arms. His heart fluttered at the sight of her.

She had wavy, strawberry blonde hair and her dad’s ocean-blue eyes. A mixture of her mom and dad’s skin tone, and she was clearly developing Sanji’s facial features. The right corners of her eyebrows had a very slight upward curl. She was beautiful, and her large eyes gazed curiously at Zeff as he approached.

“Sora, this is your grandfather,” the woman said affectionately. “Say hi!” She bounced the baby on her hip.

When she came to the infantile conclusion that Zeff was indeed not a threat, her chubby cheeks wrinkled with a smile revealing a few barely there baby teeth. Zeff held out one of his thick, calloused fingers, and she eagerly reached for the man. Sanji’s wife passed the baby, Sora, over to him, and he held her like a delicate porcelain pot, like she could break at any moment. Sanji watched the action fondly.

“Her name is Sora, she’s almost two now,” he said, his voice light and airy, almost a whisper.

Zeff bounced Sora, his granddaughter, in his arms, and she released a shrill giggle which brought a smile to his face. “Sora…” He knew that was Sanji’s late mother’s name. It seemed only natural that his daughter would take the honor of bearing her name. “She’s beautiful,” he sighed, looking at his son and daughter-in-law.

Sanji looked like he was fighting back tears at the sight of his honorary father holding his daughter. His wife gently squeezed his hand, and the floodgates leaked, making her chuckle.

“He’s been a bit nervous,” she said toward Zeff.

The gruff captain stepped toward his son and ruffled his smooth blonde hair in his free hand. Sanji sniffled, picking his head up and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. His shoulders trembled slightly with the motion of his repressed crying, but he quickly shoved it down and locked eyes with the fatherly ones staring at him. Zeff didn’t need to ask any questions to know how much a moment like this meant to Sanji. A child so wronged by his family and the world, growing up with no purpose, no encouragement, losing the one source of love in his life, forced to age so rapidly to survive some of the worst experiences a human should ever have to face. To have been blessed with a crew that cared for him, fulfilling his dreams, practicing his passion, meeting one special woman who loved and supported him, and being the father of his own child, Sanji was finally content. He was finally happy, finally content.

Zeff’s voice cracked as he uttered the sentence that he knew would make Sanji crumble. “I’m so proud of you, son. Look at how far you’ve come.”

Sanji’s blue eyes welled with tears that he had been holding in since his own childhood. The commotion from the rest of the two crews faded into a muffled static as Zeff pulled Sanji’s head into his chest, holding him close. Sora’s hand lightly smacked the top of Sanji’s hair, making him laugh, but it came out as a crackled sob. His wife laughed, rubbing his back.

“I didn’t want to cry,” he uttered into Zeff’s chest, voice blank with slight resentment.

“It was inevitable,” you responded with a humorous lilt.

“I know.” He easily relented to your words, picking his head up from Zeff and placing a hand on his father’s shoulder, giving it a firm smack. “Sorry for getting your shirt all wet, old man.”

Zeff’s chest bounced with the force of his laughter. “You’re gonna pay for it, kid. You’re on dish duty.”

Sanji’s mouth fell open in a panicked retaliation, but after realizing Zeff was, in fact, joking around, his tense shoulders fell in relief. Sora reached back out toward her mom, who took her from Zeff’s grasp leaving both his hands free again. He was able to deliver a quick, encouraging slap on Sanji’s back.

“I do expect you to help prepare this feast, though. Show me how much you’ve improved since you left.” He winked at his son. “Though, I doubt you improved that much.”

“Shut up, old man! I’ll make you the best feast you’ve ever laid eyes on. A feast that could kill you!” Old habits die hard, and the family meandered towards the rest of the crew, who were now milling around the lower dining hall excited for a meal to celebrate the Straw Hats’ return, and Zeff’s new granddaughter.

Zeff clapped his hands, alerting his own crew, who frantically took their places around the ship to cater to their pirate guests. He quickly made his way into his kitchen, rustling through the main pantry for a piece of equipment he hadn’t needed to use in a very long time. He pulled out a small food processing machine, equipped with an internal blade perfect for mashing fruits and small vegetables.

“Captain, do you need anything?” Patty was rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands in the large wash basin.

“All the fresh fruit we have. The kid doesn’t have teeth yet, she needs some mush.”

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