#frank is just so babygirl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thinkingaboutjaedyn · 1 month

Text

my heart over yours | j.fleming x reader

prompt: everyone has always said the friendship between jessie and you was too intimate. that the two of you were too close, but you never believed them until you got a girlfriend.

author notes: trying a slightly new style for this fic. i don't know rather to make this into a series or just a oneshot, so you can read this as a prologue or just a stand alone. anyways here's a fic for my canadian babygirl jessie 🙇🏽‍♀️ enjoy!

contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, homoerotic friendship low-key, jealous!jessie if you squint, aj not understanding shit about canada, slightly messy timeline sorry y'all 💔, super long grab a snack lay back relax

part two

playing thinkin bout you by frank ocean 🎵

you have known jessie since she was seven years old. with her moving into your neighborhood in elementary, at first you didn't try to interact with her. she was just the girl with freckles who was always outside. the shy girl in class who you would sometimes be paired up with for meaningless assignments. jessie just didn't stand out to you; she didn't talk much during class and usually kept to herself.

it was your mother that pushed you towards being friends with her. during summer vacation, your mother thought it would be an amazing idea to put you into the local girls soccer club. you have always been an energetic kid, but that summer when you turned eight was when she had enough of you running around the house.

"it will be a great opportunity. you can get all that energy out of your system," your mother said one night when you were helping her cook; standing on a stool next to her at the counter. she pinched your cheek when she mentioned your chaotic-ness. you had scrunched your nose back then. due to the sharp pang of pain from her pinch and the internal disagreement you had with her decision.

you didn't know the first thing about soccer. you hardly watched it, only when your father would tell you to come and cuddle with him while he watched chelsea matches. "they're just kicking around a ball.." you would mumble, your head resting against his chest, and he would always playfully scold you. going on and going on about how soccer is much more than just kicking around ball. you would just nod in agreement with his words when deep down you didn't have a clue what he was on about.

that girls soccer club is what sent you right into jessie's arms. the fellow canadian was excited when she spotted you at the first practice of the summer. she didn't even know you would be coming to play soccer this summer; jessie has been meaning to talk you all school year. too intimidated to say anything. you were loud, always raising your hand in class, and had tons of friends. where would she even fit? now that jessie had the opportunity to get some type of close to you, she was ready to take it.

"we have the same cleats," she said when she approached you. a bashful smile on her lips as she looked down at you on the ground. you giggled, glancing from your cleats to hers. the two pairs of cleats were the same exact ones; a nice white base with a blue nike sign on the shoes. it seemed like you two had the same taste or at least your mothers did.

you sat up, dusting off the grass from your t-shirt. jessie offers a hand to help you up that you accept. "yeah. sorry for copying you, freckles," you joke. jessie lets out a giggle. she didn't get why being called freckles by you almost made her blush back then. she's been called it plenty of times by others at school, why was it different with you?

"it's fine. to gain my forgiveness, you just have to be my friend," the freckled girl joked back. you two fall into a conversation full of nothing while waiting for practice to start. the conversation may have been meaningless at the time, but it was the start of something great.

the friendship between jessie and you grew quickly. with you carpooling with her to practice and every game that entire summer since your parents had schedules full of work. sometimes you would even sleepover jessie's house. leading you to get to know her older brother tristan; you soon grew a sister-brother like relationship with him. with you having no siblings of yours at the time, you clung to the teasing words of his and all the extra snacks he let jessie and you get at midnight when you two were supposed to be in bed.

when school came back around, there was a small fear in jessie that you would ditch her. all of your other friends were way louder than her and seemed more interesting, but that would be the furthest thing from the truth. you keep her around, introducing her to all of your friends who already knew about jessie due to her being a champ in cross-country for the elementary school.

jessie and yours friendship grew even deeper as you two became older. not just the relationship between you two, but also the relationship between your families. your mother would always invite jessie's over for her girl nights when she had the chance. jessie's father sound found out about your father's soccer obsession and they became close over that. when jessie's mother was pregnant with elysse, jessie's younger sister, your mother was the one who threw the baby shower.

you two become so apart of each other's life that it didn't make sense for the friendship to ever falter. y'all were always together to the point that some of your friends would question your friendship.

"is jessie like your girlfriend?" said clair, one of your close friends in eighth grade (not closer than jessie and you but still), while walking to class one day. you stop in your tracks. glancing at the blonde girl who's a few steps ahead of you. she looks back at you with a questioning look, "what?"

"what do you mean, what?" you look around to see if anyone else heard her words. the hall wasn't too crowded, but it definitely wasn't empty. "no. jess is not my girlfriend, just my bestfriend," you say. shrugging off her words as you walk up to catch up with her. clair gives you a look that says i don't believe you but you ignore it because what is she on about? you aren't dating jessie. she's your bestfriend, nothing more.

clair's words stuck with you for the rest of the day. why would she even think of something like that? how could she just get the guts to ask a weird question like that?

at the end of the school day when you met up with jessie at the school doors, so you two could leave, you wanted to bring it up. fortunately you don't. instead listening to jessie ramble on about her recent non-fiction obsession that she was able to read in class. her hand is interlocked with yours as you two walk towards her mother's car. she only lets go of your hand when she slips into the backseat of the truck, patting the spot next to her to signal you to hurry up and get in.

"i was going to get in regardless," you giggle, sitting down next to her in the backseat. you shut the door once settled, saying a few words of greeting to jessie's mother before focusing all of your attention on her.

"you weren't going fast enough for me," jessie immediately grabs your hand after you snap in your seatbelt. she couldn't help herself. the feeling of your hand against hers made her feel grounded. "sorry, princess. i'll go faster next time," you joke. leaning your head against her shoulder as jessie ignores your teasing and goes back to rambling.

it takes only fifteen minutes to reach jessie and yours neighborhood. her mom pulling up into their family driveway before hopping out. telling jessie to do her laundry once jessie gets out of the car, bringing you along with her. she holds onto both of your backbags, something she always does, claiming that she doesn't want your back to be hurting from the weight.

"okay, i got it, ma," jessie says. waiting for her mom to go into the house before following after. you're still a bit drowsy from drifting off in the truck, so you just follow along. briefly waving at your mom who you catch a glance of down the street before fully being dragged into the house. jessie drops you two's backbags near the bench in the entrance hallway before pulling you to her bedroom upstairs.

the girl has been missing you all day since you two unfortunately aren't in the same class this year. not being able to hear your voice or play with your fingers when she was bored in class has been driving her insane all that; she didn't really get why, but who cares for reasoning when it's not important in the moment?

"are you going to come to my next cross-country meet?" the freckled girl says, letting go of your hand once you two are in the privacy of her bedroom. you give a tired nod, walking over to her bed to sit on it. she gives you a sharp look, not wanting you to sit on her bed with your outside clothes. you groan but still get up and move over to her closet to look through her clothes. it was a casual thing to wear jessie's clothes. she was your bestfriend, you guys share everything.

the room falls into silence as you two change. it doesn't feel awkward to change around jessie; she has seen you get changed before in the girls soccer club locker room at away games. nothing ever felt awkward with the girl. she never made anything weird; she was jessie, your jessie. you can do whatever around her without judgement.

you slip into some cotton shorts and one of jessie's weird space t-shirts while jessie changed into a tank top and pajama pants. she moves to cut on her tv. scrolling past the different apps on the smart tv before landing on youtube; throwing on some gaming video that would just be background noise for you two.

"hm, can you pull down the blackout blinds, please?" you pout at her. coming close to give her a half hug that makes her scoff.

"only if i get a real hug," jessie says. you roll your eyes in playful annoyance before pulling her into a full hug. swaying slightly as you rub at her back. jessie lets out a content sigh, taking in the scent of your coconut bodywash. the smell always calms her, she don't know why and doesn't really care to know. the hug lasts for a long moment with neither jessie or you wanting to pull away.

but unfortunately, jessie pulls away first. you give her a mock sad look before moving past her to go lay on her bed. she pulls down her blackout blinds before laying in bed beside you.

you pull her close like you always do when you two take your daily afterschool naps. it always feels like your body slots in perfectly against hers. jessie plays with your hair, letting the silence between you two settle.

you nearly drift off, but the question from clair earlier interrupts your peaceful dip into the world of sleep. is jessie like your girlfriend? rings throughout your mind. why would clair ask that? does jessie wonder the same sometimes..? you have to ask her.

jessie is already half asleep. you can tell by her slow breathing and the way she's trying to keep her eyes open, but just keep failing. she lets out a soft hum when you start to speak,

"do you think we act like girlfriends?" you ask softly. your question makes jessie open her eyes in surprise. she narrows her eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness in the room, before her glance stops on you.

"who said that?" she mumbles. it wasn't the first time someone had suggested that jessie and you were anything, but friendly. she hears the rumors around school about how people think you two are lesbians; for some reason that thought doesn't bother her much, but she would never mention that to you. it's the one thing she keeps a secret from you, locked away in the back of her mind.

you slightly shrug, your legs tangling with hers. "clair.. she gave me a look after too when i said you were just my bestfriend.." you trail off, frowning, "like i was some liar."

jessie lets out a chuckle before pressing her face against your forehead. "just your bestfriend? wow i thought we were closer than that..." she playfully says. trying to lighten the mood and get that frown off of your lips. she can hear in your voice and she hates it.

you laugh softly, "shush. you're proving their point." you give her arm a gentle pinch, making her let out a soft ow. you two joke around for a few moments before the tiredness from the day starts to really set it in. soon enough jessie stops talking, letting her eyes close and you follow soon after. happily drifting off in her arms.

once secondary school came around, the thoughts around jessie and your friendship got even worse. the other students at school saw jessie holding your hand while also holding your bag on the first day of school and ran with it. even when you both actively denied it, nobody believed you two. in everyone else eyes you two were dating or at least on the way to that step.

even people within your friendgroup were skeptical. especially your closest friend (outside of jessie) sabrina who didn't get how you two were so attached. the friendship between jessie and you just felt deeper than she ever seen before.

when jessie got her first senior national team call-up, that's when sabrina's skeptical boiled over. while you have given up soccer near the end of eighth grade, jessie had kept going. she was always more serious about the sport than you were. it was just an outlet for your energy and when you slowly found other ways to get all that energy out, you didn't find the need for soccer anymore; that feeling was back in sixth grade, but you held out on leaving the girls soccer club until two years later because of jessie. soccer felt like y'all's thing and you wanted to keep it that way, but you couldn't keep playing it when you wanted to do other things, so eventually you left.

instead you started to work during the ninth grade school year and have been saving up to go to a concert for the following year in tenth grade. however when tenth grade year came around and jessie told you that she got a senior national team call-up, you were quick to use that money to get a ticket to brazil and a ticket for the first game where canada plays at the tournament. keeping it a secret from jessie to surprise her. you of course had to get some help from tristan since your mother wouldn't allow fifteen year old you go to an completely different continent, but still you were going.

"do you think she's going to like it?" you asked while studying with sabrina for a math test. it's two weeks before jessie had to go to camp in brazil; you have been keeping your surprise a secret for a while now and was ready to tell her the next time you saw her.

"i mean yeah, it's you we're talking about," sabrina replies. looking up from her notes to look at you. a frown grows on your lips as you notice her tone; like your question was dumb. "what do you mean it's me we're talking about?" you give her a confused look.

"you know what i mean. jessie would like anything you give her because she likes you," she says. empathizing the she likes you part. the frown on your lips deepen. her words carry some sort of annoyance. you don't reply, going back to reviewing your notes. when you don't say anything back sabrina quickly tries to make the situation better by saying, "it's not like i'm homophobic or something. i don't care that you're dating jessie."

"i'm not dating jessie!" you shout, quietening your voice after realizing how loud you were, "she's my bestfriend and i can't believe that you of all people would say something like that."

"stop lying to yourself, y/n! would you spend your money on going to an entirely different country for anyone else? for me? or serena? or any of our friends? i think not."

"they aren't jessie! sorry, but she's more important to me than anyone else. i want to be there when she first gets to be on the pitch," you reason, "it's not because i'm like inlove with her." not looking at sabrina afterwards, already knowing she's giving you a look of i don't believe you.

sabrina starts to fight against your words, but can't even get a sentence out before your phone starts vibrating; jessie's contract showing up on your screen. you look at sabrina before answering the phone.

"hey jess," you say as you get up and leave out of sabrina's room. not wanting her to hear the conversation between jessie and you after her weird.. accusation? you didn't know what to call it. you just knew you didn't want her to hear a word you were going to say to jessie. you go to sit on the top of the stairs. leaning your head against the wall as jessie speaks, "hey. i was missing you.. where are you?"

"sabrina's. we have this big math test, so she asked to study together," you say. jessie lets out a sigh on the other line. "oh.. i was going to ask if you could come over. i feel like i haven't seen you all day and we haven't taken our daily nap yet.. so," she says.

you giggle, jessie would never directly ask you to leave someone else's place to come to hers, it's rude but you can tell that's what she wants just from her voice alone. "i'll come over. we were almost done anyways," you say.

you can hear the smile on jessie's lips on the other line. "really? you don't have to.. but thanks," she says. you hang up afterwards. going back into sabrina's room to put your notebook back into your bag before texting your mom to come pick you up. sabrina was annoyed when you told her you were leaving, with her saying something about how you would blow off anyone for jessie. you just shrug her words off and went outside to wait on the porch for your mom. not wanting to stay in sabrina's house any longer.

it takes ten minutes, but you get from sabrina's to your own house. putting your backbag away in your room before running off to jessie's house. greeting her mother and father on the way to her room. letting all the tension from sabrina's fall from your shoulders as you step inside of her room. before you can say anything, jessie gets off of her bed and comes close to you. pulling you into a hug, she lets out a content sigh.

"been missing you all day," she mumbles into your neck. you smile, one of your hands rubbing at her upper back while the other is on her waist. you let out your own content sigh; you have been missing jessie the entire day as well. it wasn't normal for the two of you to go a few hours without eachother unless it's when jessie would get called up to youth national team camps and tournaments. even then she would call you every time she had the chance to, claiming she missed your voice.

she pulls towards her bed without letting you go. taking her arm from around your waist to push the covers on her bed over before pulling you down onto the bed with her.

"so clingy.." you whisper against her ear. she just chuckles, moving so that you both are fully on the bed before pulling the covers over you two. you're laying on top of her now, your thighs hugging her hips.

"told you i missed you.." she whispers back. closing her eyes; with you finally in her arms and the darkness of her room, jessie was getting sleepy.

the earlier conversation with sabrina is still on your mind, but you decide against bringing it up. jessie was used to people making assumptions about you two, so it would be no use to bring it up. instead you just let out a hum of acknowledgement, slowly becoming sleepy as well.

"missed you too.." you murmured before letting yourself drift off.

the rest of highschool was a whirlwind for jessie and you's friendship. when you surprised her at the chile vs canada game at the tournament in brazil, she nearly cried when she saw tristan and you after the loss against chile. you were wearing one of her old soccer jerseys, the letters on the back of it basically faded away. you had even bought her flowers that she took gratefully. that night you didn't go back to your hotel room, but to jessie's. after the loss she needed the comfort and you were the right person for it. thankfully her roommate wasn't staying in the room that night, deciding to go out with the rest of the adults in the team.

you held her in your arms, reassuring her that she played well and that the loss wasn't based off her performance. chile just played a better game than canada that evening. jessie had finally let herself cry, burying her face into your chest. she only let herself cry around you; finding it too embarrassing around others. you are the only one who can truly comfort her, it was just different with you.

that following morning, jessie slept in with you. too tired from everything that happened yesterday. the rest of the day was spent in that hotel room mostly with jessie being too tired to leave her bed and refusing to let you either. you left brazil a day before the canadian national team did, with a bunch of texts from jessie coming in when you landed back in canada.

in the same school year is when jessie got recruited by ucla. she was so confused about the recruitment process and you two spent a good hour or two looking at youtube videos about how these types of trips usually go a few days before she was meant to leave. you two spent an entire week (before jessie was even getting recruited) talking about what colleges you two wanted to attend; with you thinking about going over to england for university or maybe closer to home, right next door, in america. while jessie was unsure about where she wanted to go. the soccer college scene in america was interesting to her and made the most sense for her career. also american college sounded fun, at least that's what she got from the movies and vlogs she watched over the years. jessie didn't want to be stuck in canada forever; she wanted to branch out and see new things.

when jessie went on the trip, half of her time was split between looking around campus and getting to know the team and the rest was spent talking to you on the phone. she wished you could be there with her. the freckled girl just wanted to share every experience with you; that's what bestfriends do. you missed her dearly as well while she was away. coming over to her house three times out of the week she was gone. laying in her bed in her clothes while calling her. thankfully jessie's parents didn't care if you slept over even when jessie wasn't there, they found the closeness between jessie and you cute. your parents didn't really care either. just telling you to come down the street for dinner before letting you go back to jessie's house; knowing just how much you are attached to the freckled girl.

when jessie came back to canada, you two spent nearly two days just stuck to eachother's side. jessie telling you all about what she saw and showing you all the pictures she took, for you.

the biggest hurdle of highschool was definitely when jessie made the decision to move to vancouver. nearing the middle of eleventh grade, she told you about the decision she's been pondering about ever since her first senior call-up. just thinking about the distance that would be between you two almost made her reconsider, but she realized she needed this if she wanted to further along her career. since tristan have been living in vancouver for a good few months now and training for the national team happened there, everything fell in place for jessie to go. her parents agreed once she explained why she wanted to go. now it was time to tell you.

the day she was planning to tell you, the atmosphere felt strange between you two like you knew something big was about to happen. jessie had dragged you to the park around the time of sunset, letting her mom know that nothing would happen and that two of you would be safe. she's barely swinging as she sits on the swing. her mind lost in thought about how to bring up her leaving.

however it wasn't jessie who started the conversation, but you. the young player had been acting strange all day and even the day before that, so you knew something was up. "what is it?" you ask softly, sitting on the swing next to her.

jessie bites her lips out of nervousness before saying, "i'm leaving for vancouver in a month and i'm sorry i didn't tell you, but i want to be a pro player so bad, i have to do this." her jumbled explanation makes you let out a soft laugh; jessie is intelligent, but always struggles to explain our thoughts. when her words sunk in you let out another soft laugh, this time out of disbelief. jessie's leaving..?

"what do you mean? like for a camp right? that's fine, i'll see you in a few weeks, it's fine," you look over at her. she refuses to meet your eyes and just looks down at her feet. "i mean like.. until college," she says. you fall silent, unsure on what to say. what could even be said? what were you supposed to do? beg for her to not go do something important for her career? you couldn't, so you just shut your mouth.

looking away from her to hide the tears starting to swell up in your eyes. jessie's fighting back tears of her own. jessie and you have shared practically every moment of your lives together since elementary, while away in vancouver, would she share moments with someone else? the thought makes your stomach turn.

jessie finally gets up and comes close to you. her hand moves to wipe away the tears on your face. you look up at her before standing up, grabbing onto her hand to interlock it with yours, using it to pull her close. you hide your face in her neck, still crying.

"we still can be bestfriends right?" you sob out. you don't even understand why you asked that question. of course you two can still be bestfriends, distance may make that harder but that doesn't make your bond any different. you don't get why jessie leaving feels like a piece of your heart is being cut out; why it's so painful. jessie obviously wasn't doing much better than you as she replies, "yeah. i would never let you go." you can hear the sadness in her voice.

it takes a few moments for you both to calm down. you are the first to pull away. looking at jessie to see how she was doing. the freckled girl has tear strains down her cheeks, but also a small smile on her lips. when you two's eyes meet she starts to giggle.

"you look like a mess," she pokes your cheek. you roll your eyes before saying, "you aren't much better." you playfully poke her cheek too. jessie acts like she's going to bite your finger, giggling when you pull it back.

"just don't go around making new bestfriends, okay?" you say. jessie nods before looking around you two. the sun has already set and the streetlights are now on.

"let's go before the buses stop running," she pulls you away from the swings, towards down the street where the bus stop is. you two stand side by side, holding hands, until the bus come.

you slept over her house that night. neither of you wanting to be away from eachother after something so emotional.

the next year and half don't go as badly as you imagined. you two find time to always call and even visit eachother when able. whenever the canadian national team had games close to london, you were always quick to go if jessie was on the roster (which she usually was). time flew past quickly. with you focusing the rest of your time on doing well in school, so you could be prepared for college admissions. you decided on going to an american college after jessie told you one day that she committed to ucla. when it came time to apply to colleges, you applied for around six. with your top pick being ucla.

all of your hard work was worth it as you got into ucla. opening up your acceptance email on facetime with jessie who was ecstatic and slightly sad because she couldn't be there to celebrate with you in person, but still you two would soon be together so it was alright.

that following fall when you arrived on the ucla campus, you found jessie right away. the now eighteen year old having decided on a spot for you two to meet on campus. you two found a way to be roommates. having a blast while trying to decorate the dorm with all the stuff you two bought along; already planning to go get some more later on in the month.

getting settled into college was a challenge for you. it was different from how canadian schools worked and the ucla campus was way bigger than the secondary school you, and once jessie at one point, attended. finding all of the classes you needed to find was stressful and the huge class sizes made you uncomfortable for a small moment before you got use to it. everything wasn't all bad. ucla has a beautiful campus with tons of fun things to do. you would join a club if your major wasn't having you run around campus nearly everyday or writing papers that would lead you into the depths of the night. all the free time you had was spent with jessie.

when soccer practice started, you were always in the stands at the practice grounds. snacking on some fruit while watching some netflix show, taking your attention off of your entertainment when jessie would call for you.

"you're here to pay attention to me! not watch some show," she would say from the bottom of the stands. you always roll your eyes, but would listen to her. looking at the team push a ball around, do suicides, and other exercises wasn't the most interesting but it was fun to watch jessie be in her element. she always moved so well across the field like the movements were programmed into her. it was absolute pure skill.

the entire soccer season you somehow found a way to come to every home game. wearing one of jessie's ucla jerseys that she left in y'all's dorm. she always smiles when she spots you in the stands, giving a quick wave if it was half time. you were like her lucky charm. she played the best when you were there; maybe because she wanted to impress you? not like that's something weird, you're her bestfriend. who wouldn't want to impress their bestfriend?

jessie was one of your only friends for the majority of the first semester and half of the second semester. your major kept you busy and jessie filled in all the empty spots left over. you had two other friends outside of the canadian. a spanish exchange student by the name of gabriela who you befriended after helping her find a book section in the library one day. after that, she was determined to be your friend and you weren't going to stop her. happily studying with her when you had time which meant when you weren't studying with jessie. the other girl you befriended was a law student by the name of eva. you two always somehow ran into eachother on the huge ucla campus, so at one point you just asked her for her instagram and the rest is history. she tries to make time to hangout with you, but law school takes up so much of her day that you two usually just text. occasionally waving when you saw eachother on campus, but that was it.

jessie was still your best friend and closest friend. living in the same space strengthened the bond between you two; it just felt natural to come back into the dorm and hug jessie after a long day or for jessie to demand cuddles after a grueling practice.

it wasn't until the middle of second semester that you branched out from jessie and your other two friends. there was this huge project in one of your classes that counted towards an exam grade that you could do alone or with a partner. with how much work would be needed to be put into the project and how little time you really had to focus on just one project for one class, you decided on the partner option; much to jessie's dismay.

when you told her about how you needed to find a partner in your class for the project, she had let out a sigh. leaning back on the pillows on her bed before looking at you. "so you're going to like bring someone here?" she questioned. the soccer player cringes at the thought of someone being in y'all's space. sitting on your bed or even on the floor was too much. it wasn't like it really bothered her, the canadian just doesn't like people in her space.

"we will probably work in the library or in their dorm. i feel like ours is always a mess," you shrugged. rolling your eyes when jessie let out a sigh of relief. it wasn't really one of relief as internally jessie didn't feel so good about you spending time in someone else's dorm; she didn't get why, but does it really matter? you always studied with her and did most projects with her. of course she wouldn't be used to you having to do one with someone else.

back then jessie just shrugged off her thoughts and changed the subject to talk about how her day went. not wanting to dwell too much on a topic that now made her cringe.

you found a partner the next day. the tall blonde, sasha, who always sat next to you in class. it only made sense to ask her since you were already familiar with her. the woman had quickly agreed, claiming she didn't want to do all of that work by herself.

the rest of the semester was spent doing the project in sasha's dorm most of the time. your time was quickly consumed by her; cutting into your time with jessie, annoying the both of you. not being able to spend all of your free time with jessie was messing with you. sasha was very sweet and bubbly. way louder than jessie was. being with sasha was always a fun experience, but at the end of it you were always thinking about when you could go home.

jessie wasn't liking your attention not being on her. who would listen to her non-fiction book rambles? or stay up to three am watching 2000s classics? who else would ever play soccer with her at the park closest to ucla? no one, well no one she wanted to do those activities with. those endless moments belong to jessie and you; no one else.

"i just don't get why you're always with her," jessie says over the phone. she's in your sweater and shorts while sitting on your bed. you were out late with sasha again to finish that project. jessie hates that project; it's the reason why you weren't in bed with her right now, cuddling.

you sigh, looking at sasha who was besides you before saying, "this project is taking up much more time than i thought. wish i was there with you, i miss my bed."

"just your bed?"

"you too. shush it, freckles." jessie laughs softly after hearing you drop her childhood nickname. your short conversation is cut short by sasha who told you to help her find some more research papers to use in the project. you give jessie a small apology before hanging up.

the canadian groans when you hang up. dropping her phone down on your sheets. she lays back and just thinks about what you could be doing right now if you were here with her. your body against hers as she holds you. talking about a bunch of nothing, but it was something when it came out of your mouth.

jessie misses you; that's one thing she knows for sure.

nearing the end of the semester when sasha and you were doing the finishing touches on the project, there was more free time for you both. you wanted to spend those few extra hours with jessie since you have been mostly seeing her in the mornings before she head off to the class and late at night when you would come back to the dorm, exhausted. you miss your bestfriend dearly. too bad for you, jessie was called up for a national team camp for two upcoming friendlies.

jessie was just as disappointed as you, clinging to your side the entire day before she was meant to leave for camp. good thing you had a rare day off. it felt like old times that day, just jessie and you. after she left, you started to hang out with sasha more just because she was someone you had the most access to. eva was drowning under exams while gabriela was living her best party girl life and you were all up for partying, but not nearly every night. that left sasha who would see almost everyday without a doubt. wanting to finish the project at least three days before the deadline, so it didn't feel you two were rushing things. with jessie gone, things got weirdly deep between sasha and you.

after finishing up the work needed for the day, sasha would ask you to stay with her for an extra hour or two. just to talk while eating. you always agreed since you didn't have nothing else to do and jessie unfortunately couldn't facetime much. you and sasha would go into deep conversations about whatever came to mind. it was fun just like anything else with sasha.

however one day the energy between the blonde and you felt different like she was holding something back. you weren't shocked when at the last session of working on the project, she stopped you from leaving after two hours of talking. what you didn't expect was what came out of her mouth,

"i really like you, y/n. would you like to go on a date with me? maybe this weekend" she asks, her hand holding onto your wrist. you stay silent for a few moments before saying, "sure."

when you got back to your dorm, you didn't even understand why you said yes. it wasn't like you were particularly interested in sasha. she was great, fun, bubbly, even quite smart, she was sasha. in your mind she wasn't super attractive. not as magnetic as a certain freckles canadian in your life, but that was an unfair comparison since no one could compare to jessie in your world.

you thought to yourself that a date with sasha wouldn't be so bad. having a casual college romance wouldn't be so bad; you want to experience college love too. while you were stuck in your thoughts, your phone vibrated. you pick it up to see jessie's contact on your screen, immediately answering the call.

she's laying on her hotel bed with her face squished against the pillow. it's dark in the room with the only light being the light from the phone screen shining on her freckled face. jessie smiles when your camera shows you. "hey.." she says, sounding almost half asleep.

"hey freckles. how was training?" you ask softly. getting comfortable on your bed.

"it was alright, but uh.." jessie licks her lips before saying, "i was wondering if you were going to come to the game this weekend. it's in san diego, you know, against the usa and if you were going to drive or fly down." you let out a soft gasp of surprise as you realized you forgot; jessie asked you to come at least one of the friendlies happening between the the north american rivals earlier that week. you have even put the date down in your calendar for the san diego one. the swamp of your usual college work and that huge project must have burned that little date from your brain.

"god, jess. i was planning to but.. sasha asked me out today and said she wanted to go on a date this weekend.." before you can finish explaining, jessie is furrowing her eyebrows at your words.

there is badly hidden irritation in jessie's voice as she says,"sasha asked you what?"

author notes: okay, i lied! this will actually be a series, ending it off on a cliffhanger for right now 💔 i didn't proof read this so don't care about any grammatical or spelling errors, thanks!

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso x reader #woso fanfics

439 notes · View notes

heartthrobin · 11 months

Text

press your tulips to mine

steven grant x female!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n

an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers

summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.

Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.

Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.

He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?

In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.

Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.

Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.

Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.

Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.

He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.

Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.

Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.

The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"

Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.

By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.

There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.

Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.

Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.

It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.

"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"

Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.

The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.

Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.

"That was mortifying." He muttered back.

The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.

"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.

He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."

"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.

"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."

Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."

Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.

He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.

It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--

"Steven don't even think about it--"

Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.

As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."

Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."

Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"

Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."

"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.

"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.

"Jesus, Steven."

Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.

"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"

An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."

"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.

"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Who's birthday is it?"

Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"

"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"

"My girlfriend's."

"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"

"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.

"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."

"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.

Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"

Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"

You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"

Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.

You blushed a velvety red.

"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"

"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."

Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."

He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.

"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."

Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?

"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.

"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.

"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."

Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.

"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"

"Let her respond, Steven."

But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.

"So, uh, yeah."

"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"

Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."

You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"

"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."

You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."

"Thanks."

"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.

"Uh-- and you are?"

"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.

Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.

"It's ... it's a beautiful name."

You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."

His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."

Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.

"Good job, Stevie."

Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.

Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”

His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”

In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.

Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.

Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”

But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.

Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.

He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.

Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.

“What’s up, Stevie?”

The nickname made him shiver every time.

“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.

When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.

“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.

You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”

It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.

Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.

“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”

Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.

He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.

“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.

Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.

Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”

It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.

He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.

The day passed like most of them do.

The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.

Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.

Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.

He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.

A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--

"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."

The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.

Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."

Your eyes found him, waving a hand.

Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.

"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"

"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."

He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”

Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.

“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”

Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.

“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”

“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.

The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.

“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”

With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."

"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"

"Of course."

Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.

When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.

"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.

The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.

Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.

With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.

"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"

The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.

Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.

Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.

“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”

He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.

The silence was beginning to turn stale.

“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.

“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”

“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”

“And you’re very beautiful.”

The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”

Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”

An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”

“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“

A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.

The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.

Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.

He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.

“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.

He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.

In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.

Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.

“Steven?”

The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.

He didn’t.

Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.

Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”

If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.

“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“

He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.

“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You blinked up at him. Once, twice.

The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.

“When?”

Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?

“Now. Right now, tonight.”

The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.

“Don’t you have work?”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”

Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“

He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.

“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.

He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.

They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.

With his experience being limited to the pool of:

A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.

B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,

C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,

It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.

“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.

You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.

“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”

taglist:

@pcrushinnerd @since-im-already-here @am-3-thyst @aug-ust69 @hangmanslover @suddenlysteven @nxonlights @lwjmoonchild7 @o-zenith-o @amasdaydream @may-tulip @skarrkiie @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @lxne20 @sangwoahsbat @orihimi-19 @purple-amaranthe @autismsupermusicalassassin @mt2sssss @angie2274 @dancing-pinky-flower @y2kbratzqouturr @brekkers-desigirl @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @softdvng0dness87 @venomous-ko @grilled-steak @emily-roberts @airzonaaa @yomoms-stuff @mess-of-fandom @winter-soul @insomniacrobyn

i couldn't tag some of you, just check that your settings allow for mentions :))

1K notes · View notes

aceviscontiswife · 1 year

Note

I'm really new to Dead by Daylight and I'm really enjoying your fics. So, story prompt:

Reader is a survivor who was just gifted a new outfit by the entity that, unknown to reader includes a pair of remote control vibrating panties. Then reader shows up in a trial with the killer who reader has been flirting with and secretly crushing on and killer (who flirts right back and also has a crush on reader) finds a mysterious remote in their pocket.

I'd love Danny and Frank (separately, please) and anyone else you feel like writing.)

Survivor!Reader wearing remote controlled vibrating panties in a trial

Killers: Danny (Ghostface), Frank (Legion), Wesker.

Afab!Reader. Warnings: petnames such as dollface, babygirl, babe, and dearest. Vibrating panties (that reader was not aware of), masturbation, Wesker’s a bit of an ass at first.

•When you wake up in the cornfields of Coldwind, you don’t suspect anything at first. You were loving your new outfit, it fit you perfectly and showed off your assets. You were hoping to see Ghostface this trial, since you knew this outfit would probably send him into overdrive.

•Its only when you begin to work on a generator when you feel a light vibration against your womanhood. It sends a tingle down your spine and straight to your core. Your thighs press together in an attempt to conceal the steadily growing arousal, but it only seems to make it stronger. You had no idea what was causing this, but it had to be some cruel prank of the entity’s.

•Danny was a little confused when he found the small remote in his pocket, and after a few seconds of staring down at the remote in his hand, he pressed one of the buttons.

•It didn’t take Danny very long to find you, all by yourself, wearing the sexiest clothes Danny’s ever seen. That alone was enough to get him hard, but what he saw next nearly sent him insane. You slapped a hand over your mouth, your thighs squirming against each other as you moan against your hand. You could barely even work on the generator… That’s when Danny put two and two together, and oh man, you were in for a treat.

“Oh, dollface…” You whip around to face where the voice—Danny’s voice came from. He was standing behind you, leaning against a stack of crates with a small remote in his hand. You begin to speak, but your words are taken from you and replaced with a gasp as Danny presses one of the remotes buttons, the vibrating sensation in your panties growing even stronger. Danny laughed at the sight, pushing himself off of the crates and taking a step towards you. “Looks like the entity gave us both a gift, hmm?” Danny watches you grab onto the generator to support yourself, a strangled moan escaping your lips as he cranks up the vibrations to their highest setting. “I say we enjoy our treat.”

•When Frank found a small remote in his pocket, he immediately did what anyone would’ve done—he pressed the buttons. All of them.

•Needless to say, you were caught off guard when a there sudden strong vibrating sensation in your panties. It was a lot, also very confusing. After a few seconds, you had grown used to the sensations. It didn’t take long until you were rendered into a hazy, pleasure-filled state of bliss.

•You barely managed to get yourself to the killer shack, leaning against one of the lockers and biting down on your hand to keep quiet. Your free hand was shoved up your shirt, teasing your breasts through your bra.

•That’s how Frank found you, his eyes going wide behind the mask and his cock twitching in his pants as he watched you touch yourself. Your hips were grinding up into the air, and it was only when Frank heard a faint buzzing did he realize what was going on. It was like a flip of a switch, Frank went from shocked and a little confused to very turned on and very aware of what he was doing to you. Trial be damned, Frank was going to enjoy this alot more than killing some idiotic survivors.

“Fuck, babygirl… You couldn’t wait till the trial was over, could you?” You stop in your tracks when you hear Frank, your eyes snapping open to be met with the sight of Frank leaning against shacks doorway, remote in hand. He shakes his head when you stop, pressing one of the buttons on the remote and amplifying the vibrations in your panties. “Didn’t say you could stop, did I?” Frank groans when you begin to touch yourself again, the masked killer reaching down to rub his cock through his jeans. “Good girl… You want me to make it feel even better? I can make you feel amazing, babe.”

•At first, Wesker ignored the small remote in his pocket. He had a job to do, after all. The only distraction he allowed was you, anything else was simply not important to him. It was soon becoming hard to ignore, however, and Wesker angrily admits to himself that he needed to see what this remote did. Maybe it was a gift from the entity? Something to help him out in trials? Wesker was one of the entity’s strongest and smartest killers, he’s earned himself a reward.

•When Wesker eventually presses one of the buttons and nothing happens, he’s a… little upset. How dare the entity give him some useless piece of garbage? He was Albert Wesker, the Mastermind, not one of the Legion’s immature teenagers!

•If only he could’ve seen how you almost folded in on yourself when a surprising, strong feeling of vibrations began to surge through your panties. A gasp escapes your lips, ultimately catching the attention of your concerned teammates. You lie, telling them ‘You thought you saw the killer.’

•You’re barely able to complete the generator with your team, quickly coming up with some excuse to separate from your team, sneaking off to a secluded area of the map to deal with yourself.

•Wesker could hear faint moaning and panting coming from the Garden of Joy’s dark bedroom, and believing it to be an injured survivor, he quickly makes his way to the bedroom. What he saw inside the room wasn’t an injured survivor, it was you. Oh… that’s what the remote does? Wesker was quick to realize what was going on when he saw you on the rundown bed, hands covering your mouth and your hips jerking up into the air. He laughs, catching your attention.

“So this is what you do instead of helping your team? Tsk, so predictable.” You couldn’t stop the shameless moan that left you, as well as the breathless pleads for Wesker to help you out. He was enjoying this more than he’d admit… the sight of you like this was something Wesker had wanted to see for some while now, and it only made him even more aroused to know that he was the cause of your overwhelming pleasure. “Already so overstimulated and you haven’t even been touched…” Wesker laughs, shaking his head and taking a step towards you. “Come here, dearest… This is only the beginning.”

***

I actually had a lot of fun writing this! It was new for me, and I honestly loved it :) Hope you enjoy, love ya! ❤️

2K notes · View notes

joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

loved her first

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

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

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

word count 5.5k

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

April, 2023

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

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

Because you were her mother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel snorted into his wine, amused by her rebelliousness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it was too late.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gracie beamed at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” she squeaked excitedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel, she gave you a flower.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded excitedly. “Promise!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded her head. “Mhm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

His daughter.

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

Gracie yawned and began blinking furiously.

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

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

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

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

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

“You think she’s happy here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You simply nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

2K notes · View notes